Free The Long Journey Home (The Legend of Vanx Malic Book 8) by M. R. Mathias Page B

of sprites approached her, fluttering around her head like butterflies, she tried to duck away. Then she heard their chirpy message, and her heart flooded with hope.
    Moonsy hurried down into the Nexus formed by the Heart Tree’s roots to hear what the Troika Sven had to say. The sprites said that the council of ancient elves detected the magic of Vanx Malic. Just the idea that her lover and friends could still be alive was music to her pointed ears.
    If the sprite that brought her the news hadn’t confused the message, which sometimes happened due to the flighty, forgetful nature of the creatures, then Vanx had just used the Hoar Witch’s controlling crystal from not so great a distance away.
    Moonsy was hoping Elva Toyon, the head of the council, would tell her they were all at Dragon Isle again or similar news. She raced through the Underland caveways until she was among the worshipers gathered in the great cavern around the slightly glowing root columns that formedthe Nexus. Hope was thick in the air, for every fae there loved Vanx of Malic, Chelda, and mighty Sir Poopsalot, who had carried their greatest, General Foxwise Posey-Thorn, into battle against the Hoar Witch and her monsters.
    But Moonsy knew hope was sometimes futile.
    Gallarael had lost hope. Moonsy heard she was living in Orendyn as the Princess of Parydon, and cared not what happened to her former closest friends. The one time she’d returned, after hearing rumors of Vanx appearing and then returning through the tower, she was hopeful. His not being there broke her heart, which was already broken after losing their child.
    Moonsy decided not to judge the woman. She was a changeling and a Princess and had lost her previous lover, her father, a child, and now the hope of her new lover’s return in a short period of time. It all had to add up to confusion at best. Such was the way Moonsy felt when she saw the uncertain looks on the faces of the seven ancients that made up the Troika Sven.
    “Slow down, dear,” Elva Toyon, the voice of the council, spoke calmingly. “We felt the Hoar Witch’s crystal being used, but from underwater. This may not be good.”
    “Where from?” Moonsy asked, refusing to give up. “Where did you sense them?”
    “We sensed the crystal, General. Not them.” Elva Toyon gave her a stern look. “Do not let your emotion cloud your judgment or distract you from your duty.”
    “My duty is to go retrieve the Glaive of Gladiolus.” Moonsy’s eyes lit up. “There is a good chance that it was or is near Vanx Malic’s crystal.”
    This clearly surprised the Troika, for they hadn’t been thinking about retrieving the baby king’s blade yet.
    Elva gave her a wink, and broad smile swept across her face. “See there. There is a need to summon the great hawks. Does anyone disagree?” the leader of the Troika asked the group. “Three, I’d think, as tradition dictates. General Moonsy, pick your successor, then pick twoof King Longroot’s bravest elves. A few of the pixed will ride with you, as our eyes and ears. Gather everything you’ll need for several days of flight.”
    “Flight?” Moonsy asked. She’d heard of the great hawks and a great battle the elves had once helped them win. It was a great hawk that had once picked up General Posey-Thorn, nearly drowned at the shore of Three Tower Lake, after he retrieved a shard for Queen Corydalis. In her wildest dreams, Moonsy never thought to ever be flying on one herself.
    “Yes, Moonsy,” Elva Toyan said with authority. “From a bird’s-eye view, you will be able to see more than any other way. The great hawks’ vision is especially keen, and since Vanx Malic and the crystal didn’t likely get to be in the sea unless they were just on a ship, maybe we can find them.”
    “Now it is you who have confused feelings with duty,” one of the Troika Sven said in what might have been a joking manner. “But the sending wasn’t so deep in the water. After long