Page 59 of Wizards & Weavers
He was right. The cavern trembled with all the might of an earthquake as the elemental crashed against the stone floor. Braiden blocked his ears against the earth-shattering clamor as the giant’s body splintered into a thousand pieces.
He shielded himself from the spray of ice fragments and frost, his sweater and gear blocking him from the worst of it. Something came skidding along the floor, then scraped to a stop by his feet. A piece of the giant? When he looked again, it was one of its enormous fingers, crooked as if to point accusingly at Braiden’s face.
“We did it!” Elyssandra cried. “You did it, Braiden!”
Warren raised his staff, shaking it in the air. “Giant slayer. You’re a giant slayer now, Braiden.”
A thrill of laughter erupted from Braiden’s chest, the sheer relief of his body knowing it had survived to live another day.
“I don’t know about that,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck, carefully negotiating the splinter-strewn floor to reunite with his friends.
“That was a brilliant plan,” Augustin said, the sound of his voice growing closer as he sped toward the ground, boots clicking on stone when he made his soft landing. “And brilliantly executed, too. See what we can accomplish together?”
Braiden nodded, grinning despite the cold and exhaustion sapping at his bones. “Together. We did this together.”
Like a real adventuring party, he thought. He held a hand to his head, giddy with disbelief, or maybe much more tired than he’d guessed.
Warren threw an arm across Braiden’s shoulders, squeezing him in half of a hug.
“My friend killed a giant. This guy, am I right? Giant slayer.”
Braiden shook his head and laughed again, somehow less tickled by the title and more warmed by the idea that Warren considered him a friend.
“A giantelemental,” Augustin corrected, holding up one finger. “Which isn’t to diminish Braiden’s feat here, but that’s one feat too many for one day. There’s no chance another elemental of that size could possibly crystallize overnight. I propose we stop to rest.”
Warren blinked, then gazed around the cavern. “Is this some kind of human humor I’m not accustomed to yet? You want us to set up camp here in this freezing cold?” He thumbed the scarf that Braiden had conjured for him. “And this was very helpful, but it’s fraying fast. Maybe the magic is fading.”
“Not to worry,” Elyssandra said, slightly smug as she reached under her cowl to search for her cottage hairpin. “I happen to have a little trick that can help with our — oh, no. Braiden!”
He stumbled to the ground, his feet falling out from under him, a nasty spill only prevented by the strength of Augustin’s arms. The wizard caught him by the waist, hooked one arm under his elbow, and propped him up.
Braiden chuckled. “The scarf’s not the only thing that’s fraying fast. I think I expended too much of my magic.”
Elyssandra whipped her cowl off her head, extracted the correct hairpin, then stabbed its prongs into the ground. Warren watched and shook his head. She smiled up at him.
“Just trust me. And don’t worry, Braiden. We’ll get you in bed soon. Let me clear away some of this elemental stuff. No more tripping for you, clumsy.”
She kicked at the ground, scattering the icy debris. Warren shrugged and joined in, clearing a circle around the hairpin. And then Augustin exclaimed out loud.
“Stop. Wait. Don’t touch that thing.”
Braiden blinked hard, trying to focus on whatever ‘that thing’ was. Surely they weren’t about to find jewels and gemstones secreted inside the fallen elemental. Unliked the smaller ones from before, this one had been made almost entirely of ice. They were far more likely to find other stuff in there, none of it very valuable — some frozen fish, maybe? A patch of algae?
Augustin strained forward, caught between the responsibility of helping Braiden stay upright and the desire to examine something on the ground. Braiden hobbled along with him, deeply tired, but just curious enough to observe.
“It can’t be,” Augustin breathed. “A whistle stone. It must have been embedded in the giant’s maw. As one of its teeth, perhaps?”
Behind them, Warren cooed in wonder as the hairpin flourished and grew into a full cottage. Braiden searched the ground, spotting the only thing of interest among the shattered debris.
“Is it that thing over there?” he asked, pointing at an odd porous lump of rock.
It looked like something used in the bath to smooth away tough skin. Granny Bethilda used to keep one by the tub. A pumice stone, only this was perfectly spherical. And was it whistling, too?
Augustin bent over to scoop up the stone. It was definitely whistling, emitting a low, pleasant tune as it blew endlessly out of a multitude of tiny openings.
“That’s it?” Braiden asked. “Why is that so remarkable?”
Augustin beamed. “You’ll see for yourself very soon. I can’t believe it. I knew we would find one of these down here. There must be more.” He gazed toward the far end of the cavern, a dreamy look misting his eyes. “More greater elementals. More whistle stones.”
