Where are they . . .

     Yeinar was amazed.  He moved among them as one of their own.  None sniffed, looked, howled, or moved.  “Maybe this stuff works,” he said to himself as he entered the cave.  A single figure was in the cave.
      “Yeinar, I see you have remembered the secrets from your youth,” he heard from the darkness.  You seek refuge in the dark, but trust nothing in the light.  How can you help Mal-Nai in this manner?  She reveals who you are and yet you continue to question.  What will it take for you to trust?  Yes, you will be safe here until nightfall.  Tell no one what you saw.  The pack will leave with me.”
     Cleinags caught up with Yeinar.  “How did you get in the cave and what is that awful smell?  You look as pretty as you smell.  Did you fall in the bush?”
      “Never mind,” said Yeinar, “we made it in the cave.  That is all that matters, now.  There are plenty of provisions and fresh water.  It is time to sleep for now.  We must continue our journey toward Gruashe’s home and then the haleakala flower after dark.”
      The pebble continued to glow in Mal-Nai’s hand as her captor carried her through the forest.  As hard as she tried, she could not open her eyes.  She could barely wiggle one toe on her left foot.  She really did not know what use a single toe on a crippled foot would be, but she continued to wiggle it to remind herself she was still a part of something.  She was still a living creature who could move; breathing was somewhat questionable, but she had a single, solitary toe that was free!  It represented strength; it represented power; it represented self-reliance; it represented a connection with her soul.  It meant, at least for now, she was alive!
     Before what seemed like two days, but in actuality, was four hours, seventeen minutes (Mal-Nai became very adept at knowing how much time had passed in her hiding places in the kingdom), apparently she was finally placed on the ground.  She again attempted to open her eyes and again nothing.  She carefully placed the pebble in her pocket.  Mal-Nai reached her hands to her eyes and to her dismay, discovered they were indeed open, yet still not working.  Instinctively, she rubbed them thinking something must have surely gotten in them, but they seemed to be clear.  She reached around the room and shouted a greeting, but no one responded.  She was alone or no one wanted to admit to being there with her.
      She felt helpless.  These were all too familiar feelings.  She suddenly felt sick, then panicky then sick again.  “Could this possible be?  Oh, please, do not let it be … I really do not have anything left, if this …, please I can … not … do … this … any … more …,” said Mal-Nai.
       “I was waiting for you to say that,” the voice resonated in the room.  Mal-Nai recognized the voice, but it was different somehow.  She did not know how she knew it.  “Wee-One,” the voice said.  This time a bit kinder and gentler, befitting the name.  She could sense the tone and almost place the voice, but it was as if she were hearing it through a tunnel of rocks and water.
      “That is it!” she said to herself.  “Poppie,” she exclaimed.  “Where have you been?  What happened to my eyes?  I want to see you.  Where are you?  Please let me give you a hug.”
      “Oh, my sweet little one, I am afraid I cannot.  If I disclose myself to you, then he wins.  This is for the best.  Please trust me.  Your friends are fine.  You must walk this part of the path alone.  Remember, your peace is found among the living.  I must leave you now.  You must rest.  We will eat and when you wake, your sight will return.
      “Poppie, please, just one hug, like when I was a little girl.  You always helped me feel so safe.”
“Wee-One, I am not what you think.  I do not wish to harm you.”
       “I trust you, Poppie.  You are strong, but gentle.”  With that final plea, he reached and gave Mal-Nai a hug, carefully trying not to squeeze her too tightly.  She buried her head in his warm chest and she wept.  She giggled as she once did as a little girl.  “Poppie, thank you.  I knew you could not harm me, you silly boy.  I trust you, even though now you are a big old telwraliks (tel-ray-likes).  I know things will be better after I find the haleakala flower.
       “My child it is not your job to fix me.  I must protect you.  Remember all is not as it seems.  Thank you for your trust.  This will keep you safe.”  As Poppie continued to hold her, Mal-Nai fell asleep.
        As Mal-Nai awoke, she rubbed her eyes and could see she was in a small cottage.  Her favorite lillyfruits were on the tiny table.  She cried when she noticed her mlooks had been removed.  She looked down at her deformed feet with tears streaming down her face.  A search of the cottage on her hands and knees proved useless, as her mlooks could not be found . . .