Tond, Book Three: The Journey Northward

By Steven E. Scribner

Having learned the origin of the monster Gaeshug-Tairánda, Rolan now continues his adventure. He teams up with people from other parts of Tond who have their own interests in the quest:
Tayon, the loremaster who had made the fateful decision that had facilitated the monster’s creation and now wants to learn how to fight it;
Ai-Leena, Queen of the Tower of Dawn, placed on the throne in a coup by Tayon in an attempt to right the wrongs done in the Imperium – but there are those who do not wish her rule to continue;
S’Tam, Lord of Arsh in the Emb Lands, at first seeking vengeance for the death of a family member, then learning the power of the Sword of Law;
Nammar, the mysterious Taennishmen, sent to help Tayon but now seemingly abandoned by the very power that sent him.
Along the way, they encounter grosks, gruntags, a hate-filled mob, a many-tentacled fire creature, strange music that turns “enemy tones” into friends; and they make a soul-altering journey into the world of the Taennishmen.
And, gradually, they uncover Gaeshug-Tairánda’s dreadful secret – a secret that could mean a bitter and sudden end to the world of Tond.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steven E. Scribner
• Release date: Aug 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370306183

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Tond: Book Three

The Northward Journey

Copyright 2017 Steven E. Scribner

Published by Steven E. Scribner at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover art:

Drennic abrastract art symbolizing darkness coming to a cold and barren land; the four-pointed star of the ahíinor loremasters; and the archaic Fyorian inscription (Chapter Eleven), in its original non-ruined state:

Ter lam ahíinandu no krendáuhandu

Túar Ak-Trándulein nel syámerkumb

Marn kíilaa hándu ni ahíináalish

anáarishlo chabándash.

"The second manufacturing site of mechanas

founded by Túar Ak-Trándulein

May the works produced at this site

be of benefit to all."

Table of Contents

Synopsis of Books One and Two

Chapter One: The Eye and Shillayne

Chapter Two: The Tower of Dawn

Chapter Three: The End of the Crystal

Chapter Four: Flyfires to the North

Chapter Five: In the House of Ral

Chapter Six: Perils

Chapter Seven: Prophecies

Chapter Eight: The Bridge to Nowhere

Chapter Nine: A Message from the Lúmukor

Chapter Ten: Dark Plans Uncovered

Chapter Eleven: Passage to Borrogg

Chapter Twelve: The Kadak-Kakara

Chapter Thirteen: The Dark Land

Chapter Fourteen: Journey’s End

Glossary of Tondish Words

About the Author

Other Books by Steven E. Scribner

Connect with Steven E. Scribner

Synopsis of Books One and Two

Mechanas are self-contained technological objects left by an ancient industrialized civilization. They are usually hard to recognize, being disguised as everyday items in the world of Tond. But the Fyorian loremasters know the lore of the mechanas and use them to hold off aggression from the hostile Karjan Imperium to the south. Each loremaster has two or three mechanas of his own.

The loremasters are at first unaware of a great danger that is developing.

Somewhere in northern Tond, a wandering loremaster named Tayon Dar-Taeminos meets a Taennishman named Nammar, who explains that Tayon is in danger from invasion by mordhs (mordhándala), serpent-like beings from another world who have a plan to create a powerful monster and so doing, take over Tond. Nammar explains that Tayon carries some great and powerful mechana which can stop their invasion. At first Tayon does not believe Nammar’s story, and goes his way.

Tayon finds himself threatened wherever he turns, and at last begins to realize that Nammar is correct. Unable to discover what his great mechana is, however, he decides to make one of his own. During a series of adventures, highlighting Tayon’s skills as a swordfighter, he meets two other loremasters, Alrin and Tlaen (known as TL), who help him with his quest. Alrin knows the location of what had been a mechana manufacturing site; it is probably still capable of producing something new.

Unbeknownst to all three, they are being watched, both by mordhs and by a group of Karjans (led by Roagh) who wish to restore the old, violent military rule to the Imperium. Nammar warns Tayon not to make his own mechana, but Tayon ignores him and uses a flyfire to fly to the Tower of Kings in the Imperium, where the manufacturing site was located. Nammar persuades Alrin and TL to abandon the plans, but Tayon goes ahead and forges the Circle of Shining. No sooner is he finished, than Roagh and his henchmen attack. Roagh uses the power from the Circle to change his servants into hideous semi-humans called grosks, and himself into a shape-changing monster called Gaeshug-Tairanda (atrocities, too evil for name). Tayon escapes, though he suspects that Roagh may have deliberately let him do so. Mordhs attack in a huge wave, many fusing into the body of the monster and making it larger and more powerful. TL is killed while fleeing. Tayon finally realizes that his sword is the mechana which Nammar had spoken of: it is the Sword of Law, which was made by a much earlier civilization (the Gleph) and thus could not at first be recognized as a mechana. It is very powerful. Tayon attacks Gaeshug-Tairanda with it, but the monster vanishes.

Fifteen years later, Rolan and Arnul, half-brothers and sons of the Fyorian loremaster Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis, hear some startling news about the northern region of Tond called Borrogg. Arnul, the younger of the two, makes a mystery-challenge: they must find out the truth, or (according to legend) be driven mad. They sneak into another loremaster’s room and use the Fiery Eye, one of the mechanas, to look at Borrogg. Something takes control of the Eye, and creates a portal – out of which lunges a ferocious grosk. The grosk stings Rolan with its poisonous tail, kills another loremaster and kidnaps Arnul by dragging him back through the portal and closing it from the other side.

After Rolan recovers from the poison, some loremasters discuss with him what they have found out about the grosk and where it might have taken Arnul. Grosks (and Gaeshug-Tairánda) apparently now are hiding in Borrogg. The monster has kept itself hidden there since Tayon attacked it with the Sword, and they know very little else about it. Rolan decides to go on a quest to find out more and rescue his brother, if he is in Borrogg.

Following clues left earlier by the dead loremaster, Rolan leaves behind his sweetheart Shillayne, and first travels south towards the Tower of Dawn, the only city-state in the Karjan Imperium that is friendly with the Fyorians. Another loremaster (Hanroy) and his family travel with Rolan, acting as guides – they were heading south through the Imperium on their own journey. During the trip Rolan falls ill and begins to change physically; it is discovered that the grosk has placed a mechana in his body when it stung him. This mechana secretes a substance that alters the spiral of life (DNA) and is changing him into a grosk himself. Also, Rolan and the others find that they are being followed by at least one gruntag, another type of creature associated with Gaeshug-Tairánda; it is using another mechana to control Rolan’s transformation.

After a few incidents, Rolan arrives at the border of the Imperium. He meets Tayon, who confirms the clues that there are in fact people in the Tower of Dawn who can help. Tayon and Rolan, and the others, take a boat up the river Cheihar toward the Tower. They are ambushed by gruntags and mordhs – in the ensuing battle, Rolan changes more. The creatures are defeated temporarily. But, Tayon decides that he must try to remove the grosk crystal that is causing Rolan to change; otherwise the metamorphosis may be complete before they reach the Tower. This surgery is difficult and dangerous on a boat, but there is no choice since the riverbanks are probably being patrolled by gruntags. Tayon uses an herbal preparation to put Rolan into a deep sleep while he and Nammar perform the operation. He also uses another mechana that will create a dream in Rolan’s mind that will tell how Gaeshug-Tairánda was created, and thus impart information to help him fight the monster.

Chapter One

The Eye and Shillayne

Keyn r’estráu estráahiis.

Always expect the unexpected.

(Fyorian proverb)

Council Town, Rohándal; Fourth Month, Fyorian Year 614

Shillayne waited up until everyone else had gone to sleep, then lit her candle, left her room and went into the hall. It was about four weeks after Rolan had left from the inn with Hanroy's family; Keldar had since departed for his home in Xóa Eyuhand, and there was another loremaster staying at the inn now.

Quietly, she padded down the hallway, and out into the front room. The night watchman was there by the fireplace, playing a game of ten-ball with himself. First he knocked the balls on one side, scratching down the score on a piece of wood that he had brought with him, and repeated the same from the other side.

Good evening, Rindar, said Shillayne. Who's winning?

The man flinched and glared at her. Shillayne Ras-Marutháen, what are you doing awake? Everyone has gone to bed.

I'm just going to the kitchen, what, with that herb-bread that Mommy made today, I couldn't sleep, I just had to have some more.

Then help yourself. And by the way, I'm winning.

I thought so, she replied, and she walked out into the kitchen, found a single remaining loaf of the herb-bread, tore off a piece, bit into it, and peered around a corner back out into the front room. Rindar was playing the other side, with his back toward her; silently she snuck out behind him and down into the other hallway and up the stairs.

Just around the corner she waited, stuffing the bread into her mouth. She continued down the hall.

The fourth door on the right was the loremaster’s room; she stopped. She put her ear to the door. The only sound from within was an occasional snore. That was good. She put out her hand and carefully, quietly, opened the door. She proceeded in, leaving her candle outside, but leaving the door ajar so that a little light shone in.

The loremaster's room was dark. The feeble light from the candle outside the door did little to illuminate even part of it; but she did not dare to bring the candle inside. Instead she squatted down and retreated into a corner, trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the near darkness.

There was a snuffling and a creaking from the far side of the room. She held her breath. Had the loremaster heard her? She waited, expecting to see a candle or one of those lights they call glowballs. She wondered if she should just forget this whole idea and dash out the door.

No light appeared. Instead she heard heavy snoring.

She let her breath go. Her eyes were beginning to adjust. She could see the horizontal form of the loremaster sleeping on his mattress against the far wall. And she could see the dark form of a chair. And next to the chair, she could see an uncertain, shapeless blob on the floor with a long stick beside it; probably his pack and walking-staff.

And she could see what she was looking for.

There was the table, and on it were a number of objects that gleamed slightly in the candlelight. Mechanas. (It was true, then, that ahíinor always set their mechanas out on a table at night. It was said that they could catch fire if contained in a small space continuously.) She rose to her feet slowly and proceeded over to them. She remembered what Keldar had said, "Oh yes, that one is a short knife. It's not really a knife but it looks like one; but it's not very sharp. Why are you so curious about such things? The ways of the ahíinor are not meant for the eyes of women." Well that's what you think, Keldar; you were talking about bending the rules anyway.

Hopefully this loremaster would have the one she was looking for. She inspected the metallic and crystalline objects. Two of them, in fact, were knives; one was a little longer than the other; she chose the shortest. This is not stealing, she told herself; I’m going to give it back. She put it in her pocket and left the room, closing the door behind her. She took her candle and tiptoed to the end of the hallway and peered out again into the front room.

Rindar was facing the other way; obviously he'd finished the ten-ball game and was tired; he was staring into the fire and seemed to be in deep thought.

Shillayne went back into the kitchen. She found the bread again and tore off another piece (it was delicious even though that's not why she had really gotten up) and turned around to leave; a sudden motion startled her.

Meeerowwrrrrr! Whiskers, the cat, ran by her feet chasing something much smaller. She twisted trying to avoid the smaller thing that came right at her; it dodged at the last second (with Whiskers on its tail) but she felt a muscle twist in her ankle as she regained her posture (and the cat disappeared beneath a stack of wooden boxes). Ouch, that smarts... She wiggled her ankle. It hurt a little but there was no harm done.

Hurt a little. That reminded her; yes, she might like some of that too, to wash down the bread. She'd sampled it when her mother had made it and she'd taken it up to Rolan's room; it was so delicious she almost wished she'd get sick to need some of it. Well, one could drink a little if one wasn't sick, anyway. She found the jug of healing-wine (it was still about a quarter full, though others had tried it too), took a goblet and filled it about half-full; it was too strong for more than that. She took a sip; yum. She took the goblet and the piece of bread in one hand and the candle in the other, and proceeded back out into the front room, limping slightly.

Good night, Rindar, she said to the night watchman.

Rindar was staring at her. Are you alright? You’re limping, and I heard the cat yowl.

I’m fine.

Well then, good night; you didn't eat up all of the bread, did you? You were in the kitchen a long time.

No, I wasn't there long at all.

Rindar shrugged.

Back in her own room, Shillayne set the candle and the goblet down on the table; she stuffed the last little bit of bread into her mouth, and took the knife out from her pocket. She studied it, turning it from side to side, letting its metal surface glint in the candlelight. It certainly didn't look like it held hidden powers, but that was the way of the loremasters. Glowballs didn't look like impressive either.

She set it down on the table next to the goblet, and went over to her bookshelf. There were five printed books there, her treasures from school (she had finished a year before but still had friends from there). In one of those books, which she hadn't used in oh so many years... there it was, how to read the Fyorian talwehéinnaa alphabet. She took the book down, opened the pages. Yes, there it was. She took out the piece of crinkly parchment she'd hidden there and scanned its writing. This had better be the right formula; it had taken her a week to put it together using her dad’s dictionary of Old Fyorian, the language of the Ancients. She remembered what Keldar had said to her, "Well I don't know why you're curious about such things, but it's fairly simple, really; to open a mechana, you just tell it what you want it to do in the language of the Ancients. If you want to open a water crystal, for example, you tell it to 'please open the springs', or better yet, 'please explosively open the springs'; the Ancients were fond of emphasis like that, though it sounds odd to our ears." So to use this mechana, she'd looked up Please (trúmitii) kindle (káva) lore-fire (ahíi kulláa). There didn't seem to be a word like explosively, but she remembered hearing in school that some Old Fyorian words could be emphasized by repeating them with the sound mi- in between. The result sounded poetic; it had the same particular lilt as some of the Ancients' poetry that she'd read in school; if it wasn't one of the Ancients’ formulae, it should be. So it should work.

She took the knife in her hand, and said the words quietly to it. "Trúmitii káva mi-káva ahíi kulláa."

It worked. The knife flashed a green light, then went dark again.

It didn't work. Nothing else happened.

She sighed. Well it had worked partially; there must be something else to it. Keldar hadn't told her all, which of course made sense; if they went around telling people how to use mechanas there would be no reason to have a Loremasters' Order.

She took another sip, and then decided to try the formula one more time. She said it again to the knife.

The glare was so sudden and sharp and unexpected that she dropped the knife and it clattered to the floor. She scrambled for it in the sudden light. There was a large blaze in the center of the room now. She froze; this was the lore-power of the ahíinor, and she had opened the mechana! She found the knife, glowing bright green, and picked it up.

She set her wineglass down on her small cabinet. She turned to face the blaze, and saw that it was indeed suspended off of the floor about a foot; and there was a section in the center of it that was going translucent. No, not translucent; the flames were changing colors there, and they were forming something; yes, it was a scene, a darkened landscape, with the moon and stars above.

Yes! This was the Fiery Eye! It worked, and it didn't take years of training to use it.

The scene was of the desert at night. She knew that part of the desert; it was right outside the town, slightly to the east. She had even been there once at night, following Whiskers one time to see where cats went at night (nowhere in particular, she had discovered, only to a gathering of five or so other cats; and she'd gotten a long lecture when she got back).

Well anyway, she didn't want to look there now. She needed to turn the Eye southward...

Then she realized that she didn't know how to move the Eye; she hadn't asked Keldar that. She sighed. Oh well, she had tried; she'd have to find some other way to find Rolan... Better just close the mechana and return it to the sleeping ahíinor. But she hated to give up now, she'd taken so long to get that information from Keldar. And besides, she realized with a sudden shock, she didn't know how to close the mechana either. She searched her memory for any Old Fyorian word that meant anything like close or stop.

Wait. The scene was beginning to move on its own. Slowly at first, but with increasing speed, it slid across the sands of the desert. The moon stayed on the left side, and she remembered that the moon should be setting now; so the view was heading north. She didn't want it to go north; she wanted it to go south because that's the direction in which Rolan had headed...

North. Now what did that remind her of? North. What was north; she'd been north. Kaii: Land of Forests. The Drennlands: islands in the mist. Borrogg. Borrogg! Horror struck her. This may have been the very mechana which had looked at Borrogg and unleashed the grosk!

Close it! Find out how to close it! Try the same words. Try to say close, or put out, or extinguish'...! She didn't know any of those words in Old Fyorian. Try saying it in modern Fyorian, maybe the Eye wouldn't know the difference.

The scene had left the desert and was traveling across grasslands. Mountains began to loom up in the distance. She shouted, quite loudly, "Trúmitii réndas mi réndas ahíi kulláa!" No, that was not right; the flame continued unchanged; and the scene continued to move in the same direction. She was gazing down at a canyon in the mountains, and then she was looking at a prairie, and then another range of mountains appeared and soon the view was over them. Then the image faded into blackness.

She had to leave. Leave the room. There might be a grosk waiting there behind the now-invisible image. It might jump out at her. She grabbed her goblet of healing-wine (didn't want that to go to waste) and scrambled for the door. Wait. She'd get in trouble for stealing the mechana. Well, better that than a grosk. She opened the door and stepped out, but took one last look at the Eye.

And she stopped abruptly. What was this, that she was looking at? The scene had reappeared, but clearly this was not Borrogg. A beautiful green land, and it appeared sunlit, but it was in fact lit by thousands of points of brilliant light, like stars, on the leaves of the trees. Such beautiful trees; full and brightly green and broad-leaved, and there were red-and-blue birds perched in the branches. Sitting below the branches, relaxing on the full lush grass, were several people; tan-skinned and sandy-haired Fyorians, two dark-haired Karjans, and three brown-skinned people who must be Emb. They were laughing and enjoying themselves, eating fruit (such large fruit, those grapes must be the size of oranges), and drinking something from wine-bottles, something sparkling clear like the purest water. A unicorn-deer appeared, and a bluebird the size of a cat was riding it; one of the Fyorians laughed and petted the deer. It put its head down in the grass and plucked a white flower, which it dropped in his lap.

Shillayne froze before the scene; never had she seen or imagined a place so beautiful. And yet as she watched, she could feel that there was a menace there; that every leaf of every tree, every blade of impossibly green grass, every brightly-colored flower, was somehow wrong. And the people in the scene were not aware of it.

The scene went blank again, and then the fire exploded into fragments and filaments of burning light. The blast struck her in the face like a brick, and she fell backwards. She dashed for the door again; at the same time blackness formed in the center of the room and a huge toothy monstrosity lunged out of it. A grosk. She screamed and (she was never sure later if this was a reflex) threw the glass of healing-wine right at the creature's face. It yowled like an injured cat, and it sputtered and dripped. Its tail whipped around and impaled the door with a thud. The wood splintered; but the grosk could not find her. She leapt out into the hall with a cry of GROSK!!! and slammed the door.

Rindar bounded down the hall to her rescue with his sword drawn.

There's a grosk in there, she wheezed. And no, it's not a nightmare. I let it in. She fell onto him and pounded on his chest. "I let it in! I sneaked a mechana in there when nobody was looking and I let the grosk in! Never again! Never again will I play with ahíinor powers...!"

Rindar just said matter-of-factly, I don't hear anything in there.

It's a grosk! A grosk, do you understand!? The same that killed the old loremaster and kidnapped Rolan's brother!

There's nothing in there now, replied Rindar, opening the door. Shillayne peered in, half-cowering, expecting the tail to whip out or the teeth to slice through the air. Instead, there was nothing. But Rindar yelled and backed away.

It's – it's in there, he stuttered, his eyes wide. It's dead.

What?

It's dead.

Shillayne opened the door wider and stared into the flickering candlelight. She stifled a yell. The grosk lay there on the floor, across the table which it had crushed as it lunged. It was a monster twice the size of a man, metallic shiny dark-green, covered with scales like molars; its gaping jaw open and slack, its poisonous tongue hanging out. Its red eye stared at her, yet there was no movement, and there was no malevolence in that eye. The creature did not move.

Cautiously Rindar went forward into the room and raised his sword; still the creature did not move. Let's make sure, Shillayne said. She grabbed Rindar’s sword-handle out of his hand, and stabbed the blade deep into it into the creature’s ribcage. The grosk never moved.

Then she stared at broken, empty wine-goblet on the floor, and she understood. This healing-wine is groskbane, she said. It's poisonous to grosks! I need to go to Xóa Eyuhand and find Keldar. We need to find a way to tell Rolan. Rindar, let me use the fastest horse that the stableman has. Oh —first I have to return the mechana...

Chapter Two

The Tower of Dawn

Tayas dzajdaka kaelchkf watsats hmagkf chiweyhar; pran tm tsol, hondrakch, ont hotrak, hondrakkwech, pfrendukch, kmt pfretuk, pfrendukkwech. Ta’ach gwejlanicha hrakezh, tsa’eth hrajgezhnok hannok hrakezhnok. Tayas mejpalikfa tsl rukkf hwiwatsats, Ragezhi, ta’ach wadzadza.

Six towers stand along the Great River Cheihar; from east to west: those of the Dawn, the Noonday Sun, Dusk, Moonrise, the Midnight Moon, and the Setting Moon. In each dwells a hrakezh-lord who rules over that part of the Imperium. The seventh tower, of Kings, was where the hrakezh met for a parliament, but that tower is now ruined.

(From a Karjannic guide for the traveler)

Hwatsats Hondrakch (The Tower of Dawn), the Imperium; Fifth Month, Fyorian Year 614 (Karjan Year 2130)

The dream of Tayon’s story was over, and Rolan awoke on a day so sunlit and sparkling that for a moment he thought he was back in the council chamber in the presence of the Circle of Shining. No, it was just ordinary sunlight, and the blue sky arched overhead, were birds winging by within it; and off in the distance a formation of four or five silvery Floaters drifted in the clear air. The steady rhythm of the rowers told him that he was still on the boat, and as he sat up he saw the glint of light off of the water of the river.

The rowing stopped momentarily, and they all looked at him with wide and happy eyes. Odd, but the colors in their eyes and in their faces and in their clothes seemed unusually bright and glittering. Don’t let the boat slip! Keep rowing! commanded someone. Some laughter scattered around the boat, and the rhythm of the oars resumed.

Hanroy approached, holding in his hand a pale green crystal stained with irregular red and brown encrustations. He held it up for Rolan to see.

We got it. This was in your side. It’s harmless like this, when out of someone’s flesh. But, it took us all night to get it out. We didn’t want to do any more damage to your flesh. Tayon and Nammar were pretty skillful. I think you’ll heal very quickly. But I see you are okay now. He stared at Rolan, then commented, Your eyes are not quite right yet. Does the light look a little bright? That won’t last, but actually I’ve heard that it’s quite pleasant. Anyway we’re almost there. Then he turned to the others in the boat, some of whom were sleeping, slouched over the benches in very uncomfortable positions. He’s awake! Hanroy shouted and there was a commotion as everyone jumped up and looked and the boat rocked from all the sudden movement.

Andri, Hanroy’s wife, was the first awake and she sat up looking sleepy and relieved. The Taennishman awoke next, but his awakening was something different from what Rolan had seen before; instantly he was completely alert, almost as if sleep was not a condition for him, but something he had been doing, and now he was doing something else. He sat up. S’Tam, who had seemingly not been asleep, was gazing out over the sunlit river. He slapped one of Nammar’s hands in what was obviously an Emb gesture of triumph, and then he did the same to Hanroy. Rolan held out his right hand to receive the same slap, but S’Tam said, "Wait until later; I might hurt you now. Besides, that claw might hurt me."

Rolan glanced at his hand, and saw the greenish coloration and and elongated finger with a sharp claw – results of the grosk-crystal. He shuddered. Tayon had not known if the hand would return to normal once the crystal was removed. S’Tam had just made light of it, though; maybe the Emb was hopeful that there would be a cure.

"Hwandzats’ch!" exclaimed one of the Karjan women, interrupting Rolan’s thoughts. He wondered what the Karjannic word meant and turned his gaze to where she was pointing. They were approaching a hill on the left of the river, surrounded by a high stone wall, and covered not with vegetation but with innumerable wooden buildings, all low to the ground but built in successive rows up the side of the hill. And at the summit, standing above everything, was a grey and white stone spire, much taller than a tree, shimmering in the noon light.

The Tower of Dawn! proclaimed Hanroy.

You have an amazing knack for stating the obvious, said Tayon, approaching from the rear. He had also just awakened, and was still stretching as he spoke. He gave some orders in Karjannic, and the rowers changed their rhythm; the boat began to inch toward the shore near the city of the tower. Horn calls went up from somewhere in the city and were answered by a number of clattering gongs. Tayon and Nammar went to the front of the boat. From a pack at his feet, Tayon produced an instrument made of a curled brown animal horn, decorated with gold and carved with patterns of foliage; he blew into it twice and