Ralph and the Pixie

Numb with shock, feeling as though he were reeling in the midst of some horrific nightmare, his mind barely registered that the girl had thrown herself into his arms, weeping hysterically, crying something about her mother and father. In a daze, mechanically and hardly aware of what he was doing, he led Nevana to his horse, removed a blanket, wrapped her in it, and tried to take stock of what had happened to her. He was dimly aware that she was led away from him, to where Doc was working on the wounded.

Pran seemed to instinctively understand something, and drew Ralph away, saying words that only half-registered on his mind.

‘That was well done! But we have to find the others. They are not here. Do you understand me, Ralph? Malina, Deborah, my wife . . . they are not here.’

Swallowing, Ralph looked into the Elf’s eyes, saw an empathy there that made his own burn.

‘I didn’t mean to kill him! It was an accident!’

Pran nodded, his gaze wandering.

‘You prevented a murder, Ralph. And a rape. But the others are not here. We have to find them. They need us. They need you.’

Shaking his head, as though the act in itself would help gather his wits, Ralph suddenly remembered something, looking to the Elf apprehensively.