But Jackamo had always been more of a dreamer.  And if he was flying his mind would wander to other things and he couldn’t keep focused on what was before him.  It was probably that heart of a dreamer that let him hear the call from Royal.  Others of a more realistic nature would have passed over it as meant for someone else and not for them, if they heard it at all.

When he realized that the call was coming from the Banshee Forest, he faltered and almost turned around and ignored the cries.  But the plead was so constant.  “Help us, help us, please, please, please.  Spiders, banshees, sorrow, loss, help, help, please, please.”  It would not go away and seemed to get more persistent, repeating over and over again.

“I’m going to regret this.  I know it.  I just know it.”  Jackamo said to himself as he continued on into the forest.  He did not think of himself as brave or courageous, only driven on by that obsessive call drumming through his brain and echoing through his heart.  If he could have stopped it without doing anything, he would have just gone home.  But he couldn’t.  So on he went.

While Jackamo was heading into the forest, Marble and the remaining Banshees had returned to the group.  “The sooner we set out the better.  I think that you would travel better on the back of spiders.  It would take too long on foot.”  Marble said.

“Whatever you think.”  Royal said, although gasps of horror had risen from more than one in the group.

“They will not harm you.  I have told them they are to help us in this.  I would not suggest you try riding a spider at any other time, though.”  Marble pointed out.

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