The Trials of Alar

The Trials of Alar R. J. Firetail OTHER WORKS BY R. J. FIRETAIL: THE ALAR SAGA The Tale of Alar For Vertram. Thanks for all your help. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Text Copyright © 2024 by R. J. Firetail Cover Art Copyright © 2024 by Sara “Caribou” Miles Published by Red Drake Books, an imprint of Ash Tree Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Visit ashtreemedia.com Prologue Evening’s shadows lengthened in the broadleaf forests of Corallia. A light breeze rustled the budding spring foliage as a solitary figure cloaked in black dashed through the trees. He stopped every so often to look around and sniff the air. He couldn’t risk being followed. Not when things were shaping up the way they were. This was far too important. He carried on with practiced speed and stealth until he eventually came to a large boulder at the base of a cliff. He cast one final look around, then pressed against the boulder until it rolled to the side, revealing a dark hole just large enough for a gray squirrel like him to slip quickly and noiselessly inside. The boulder fell smoothly back into place behind him. His eyes were slow to adjust to the blackness of the cavern, but he knew the way, and continued at a brisk pace with his nose for a guide. He followed the passage down as the air became mustier and the walls slimier. After some time the cavern grew lighter, and he could hear low voices. Rounding a massive stalagmite column that glistened with moisture in the dim light, he found two other hooded gray squirrels on either side of him and a dagger at his throat. “Password,” said one. “Artiba reigns,” replied the newcomer calmly. “The chief awaits your report,” said the guard, sheathing his blade. They proceeded into a larger chamber where the last of the day’s light streamed in through a large hole in the cavern ceiling and reflected off the surface of a calm, clear lake below. They skirted the edge of the lake and came to a sheltered area with a small table and a couple of chairs in it. In one of these chairs sat yet another figure, who looked up as the three came in. “Report,” he said in a deep, commanding voice. “It will take place soon,” replied the newcomer. “I just got word from our source that an emissary left for Parras this morning.” “Then within a month, I should say, our time will come.” “Aye, sir. Any more orders?” The chief looked down in thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, that is all. It is not for us to make the first move this time. It is only for us to wait and see what the future may bring.” He said no more and dismissed them with a wave of a paw. The three saluted and left at once. Outwardly they displayed the same calmness that they had possessed before, though inside they could not help but feel deeply apprehensive that their fate was no longer in their paws.