When the Gem awakens to call a Hero, the world is ill prepared...and its fate is placed in the hands of a 17 year old boy, named Wendell.
Some will say this is nothing but a tale of fiction.
Let them think as they may.
After all...I can't fix stupid.
Previously: Attacked in the dark, our hero and his companions help a farmer and his children flee from danger. Wendell is wounded, and the party makes a hasty retreat into the wilderness.
<— Read Previous Chapter | Read Next Chapter —>
Life’s trials can often blind us and become unbearable. It may even seem at times that there is no hope for us.
But that’s the lie. There’s always hope.
It just might not come in the form you imagined.
Evan’s anger and determination were little match for the fury of the storm. He waded through snow, which had grown to mid calf. With his arms tightly folded around his chest, the lead rope hung loosely over his shoulder as he guided the stallion forward. I followed close behind in the stallions tracks, tugging on the mares rope. She didn’t want to be here either.
I had no idea how much time had passed since we first entered the storm. Everything was white. Blurry. Even the trees, full of brilliant color hours ago, were now hidden under sheets of ice.
“WE CAN’T KEEP GOING!” Evan shouted, but I could barely hear him. The stallion was covered in a heavy layer of frost, and carried what looked to be three white cocoons. Evan stumbled back to the horse and tried desperately to brush the snow from his siblings.
I trudged up behind him.
“WE’RE GOING TO DIE OUT HERE!” the blacksmith yelled, holding his folded arm up as a shield from the wind. He swayed in place, and finally had to reach out to steady himself against the horse. We had no idea where we were going…and no way to tell where we were. We were counting on Evan’s faint memory of traveling to Woodside.
As for me, I kept my head down and tried to look cold.
I felt helpless, watching the frozen blacksmith sway in exhaustion. Blue skin, purple lips, ready to fall. What could I do? As cold as it was, the wind and the snow had little effect upon me. My mägoweave protected me from the elements.
Mägoweave.
“TAKE OFF YOUR TUNIC!” I yelled into the wind.
Evan stood there, struggling to keep his legs locked.
I wasn’t sure he had even heard him, so I reached out and grabbed the frozen blacksmiths tunic and pulled him closer, shaking the fist full of leather. “TAKE THIS OFF!” I shouted again.
“ARE…YOU…INSANE!?” Evan cried back. He started to turn away.
Grabbing his tunic, I pulled him back and leaned in close. “MY SHIRT IS MAGIC. IT’S MADE TO KEEP YOU WARM — PUT IT ON!”
Evan’s face wasn’t just blue, it looked painful. Ice hanging from his hair, nose, and eyelashes. He shook his head. “GIVE IT TO ONE OF THEM!”
“NO,” I insisted, “YOU NEED TO LEAD US — WE NEED YOU ALIVE…OR WE ALL DIE!”
There was glimmer of understanding in his face, but then he frowned. “WHAT ABOUT YOU?”
That…was a good question. Honestly, I could only guess. I had no clue how the magic cloth worked, or whether it would work at all on someone else. What I did know, was that Ithari would do all she could to sustain me. That meant it was worth a try. “I’LL BE FINE,” I shouted back, “JUST TRADE ME!”
The blacksmith didn’t hesitate. Peeling his tunic from his skin, he exchanged the wet, frozen leather for the smiley face T-shirt. He huddled close to the stallion, turning his head in towards its fur, shaking violently.
I’d completely forgotten to hide Ithari from prying eyes. The heavy snowflakes plinked against the surface of the gem as I struggled to pull the tunic over my torso. The sleet slid down my arms and into my armpits. My body shivered violently as if doused in ice water from head to toe. It was a lot colder than I thought it would be!
The blacksmith however, pulled the black T-Shirt over his chest and almost immediately stood erect. He turned around and looked at me, his face filled with wonder.
“I’M WARM!” he shouted. The grin on his face was unmistakable. “WELL, WARMER ANYWAY!” The smiley was frozen in place, and not by the sleet, either.
“WELL, IM NOT!” I shrieked back, “SO GET MOVING!”
Help Me.
My legs buckled beneath me.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
It was the child’s voice. The voice from my dream.
“DID YOU HEAR THAT?” I yelled at Evan.
The blacksmith squinted, “HEAR WHAT?”
I could feel my heartbeat up in my throat. A pulse spreading over my shoulders and down my spine. Looking around was useless in this weather, and I had to blink away the ice on my lashes.
Help Me.
I will, I thought to myself. I’ll help you. Tell me where you are. Gripping the mare for stability in the wind, I clenched my eyes tight and tried to hold that feeling I experienced when the child’s voice rang in my mind and heart. Show me how to get to you!
The wind seemed to howl in protest.
I looked upward and shouted “SHOW ME!”
“SHOW YOU WHAT?” Evan shouted back.
Keeping hold of the mares lead rope, I pushed past the blacksmith and plunged into the storm.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Evan cried after me, but I didn’t stop. Something tugged on my heart. A feeling that grew stronger in a specific direction. So I followed that feeling and guided the mare behind me.
As long as I kept my head high, pulling the horse along and listening to my heart more than my ears, I knew where to go. Crazy, I realize that, but I swear I just…knew it. Almost like a tiny string was taped to my chest, and someone was softly tugging me through the storm.
The wind wailed and howled relentlessly, but after a time I could no longer hear its how or feel it bite. All I noticed was the soft, concerning sound of a child’s weeping.
We came to a benchmark of trees and down into what looked to be a glowing ravine.
I’m coming! I shouted in my own mind… Hold on!
I could see a bright, pulsing light…yellow and orange, dancing together. As we got closer to the light, the snow dissipated, though the wind remained.
The whole sky was on fire.
And then I heard it. Through the wind…
Drums.
Evan push through the snow, up beside Wendell, staring into the flames. His expression fell as he looked about, then glanced back the way they had traveled.
“Wendell,” he said soberly.
“Yeah?” I said. The heat felt so good on my cold face and chest, I failed to notice the archways, doorways, the scattered wagons…all burning.
“This is Woodside,” Evan said. He pointed at a stone arch. “That is,” he started, but caught himself, “was…the main gate to town.”
I looked at him curiously. “Woodside is close to Til-Thorin?”
Again the drums sounded.
Evan pulled the stallion closer to the flames and quickly brushed the snow from his family. “It means were minutes from the Keep…but by the look of Woodside…”
I gulped. “Closer than we want to be.”
The drums reverberated through the sleet, like a taunting pulse from a deep well. It made my hands tremble. It was strange, looking at the smiley face on Evan, with no animation. No life to the eyes or mouth, no hearts bubbling up around the head. It just sat there, lifeless, draped over the blacksmith’s chest.
I felt naked.
Miriam and Livi shuttered as the blanket was pulled from them. Evan helped them both slide from the stallion. To get closer to the flames.
“Get yourself warm — we need to leave as quickly as possible.” He shook the snow from the blanket and handed it to his mother. “Hold this to the fire, I’ll get Hiram.” His brother’s face was so blue. Reaching up, Evan wrapped his arms around the tiny frame and pulled Hiram from the horse.
“Help him, Wendell,” Miriam pleaded, “please.” Her tone was stressed, desperate. She looked at me in a way I hadn’t seen before. Was she asking me to actually heal Hiram? …on purpose?
“But…,” I started, not sure what to say — but Evan cut me off.
“My mother said you had some kind of healing effect on Hiram.” He kicked the snow out of his path, revealing the grass and dirt below. “I don’t care what you do," he said, "or how you do it — just help my brother.” For the first time since we’d met, there wasn’t a hint of anger. Evan’s tone wasn’t accusing, rough, or even loud. It showed in the blacksmith’s expression.
He looked afraid.
Draping his arm around his little brother, Evan rubbed Hiram’s shoulders vigorously. “Please,” he added softly. When he looked up at me, all I saw was a loving brother who was powerless. A person willing to give anything if asked, for the sake of a loved one.
Dropping the horses lead rope, I kneeled down next to Hiram. I had no idea what to do, but Miriam looked hopeful. So I put an arm around the boy, propping him up to face the warmth of the fire. “You with me, Hiram?” I said.
Slowly, Hiram rolled his head up, his purple lips spreading wide in a weak and awkward grin.
I grinned back. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
The call of the drums was soon met by another, and another.
Livi tugged on her mother’s tunic, pointing skyward.
“Boys?” Miriam whispered tensely, “I think the storm is stopping.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally! Let’s take advantage of that and get out of…”
Evan looked nervously at me as the drums abruptly ceased.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Oh crap.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
I scooped up Hiram as fast as he could and dashed toward the mare.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
The horse screamed. Its neck yanked back, legs twitching as it fell, collapsing dead at my feet.
A greasy black arrow pierced its rib cage.
The stallion reared and whined loudly, almost drowning out the chinking sound of metal bouncing across the fresh powder.
It drew our attention to the trees.
Two giants carried longbows, one re-notching an arrow. The third dragged his sword through the snow, leaving a narrow trail behind him. The vallen fanned out, bowman on either side. Black eyes watched warily as the swordsman drew closer to the dead horse.
“Looks like we’s got meat for camp,” it grinned. But the expression didn’t last long. Its eyes narrowed to slits, off-colored lips pulling back into a sneer as it studied the females. “But we’s got tastier delights to keeps a secret,” it breathed hungrily. Saliva dripped over its teeth and into the snow. Lifting the longsword firmly in one hand, it walked towards Miriam.
With a loud neigh, King reared up, clawing at the swordsman.
This gave Evan an opportunity to sprint to his war hammer as it slid off the stallion’s back.
The vallen flinched and stumbled back, black hooves clipping his face and chest, taking chunks of skin. The giant didn’t fall. With a mighty swing, the sword arched high and fell. Blood sprayed across the powder, a gaping neck wound melting red patches at our feet. King collapsed and twitched, unable to make a sound.
The bowmen laughed. It sounded like the gurgles of drowning men.
Evan leapt over the stallion’s body, hammer clutched tightly in both hands. The sudden burst of movement surprised the sword-wielding giant, but not enough. Before the blacksmith could swing, a heavy hand jammed his elbow as the sword hilt struck him across the jaw. The hammer flew from Evan’s grip, his body following close behind.
The blacksmith slid to a halt in the ice…just feet from a burning building.
One of the archers sniffed the air, eyes fixed squarely on me.
What do I do? What do I do? Hiram was nearly limp in my arms. I had to do something.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
My heart raced, my mind a close second. The closest weapon was Evan’s hammer, but it was too far away. Both horses were dead. Evan wasn’t moving. Hiram wounded.
HELP ME! I pleaded silently. Ithari, I don’t know what to do!?
My heartbeat resounded in my ears, drowning out the crackling of the fire. It drowned out the laughter of the sickening green and puss-yellow skinned vallen. It even muffled Miriam’s screams as the swordsman lifted Livi up by her hair.
Livi.
Miriam clawed at the soldiers arms. A back-handed slap knocked her to the ground.
Slowly I lowered Hiram to the ground, looking frantically for options.
“You!” snapped a bowman, striding forward. “What you’s got there, eh?” he gurgled, then grabbed Hiram by the neck. The boy gasped, legs dangling and kicking as he was lifted to be inspected.
“Leave him alo —,” I started to protest, but was immediately kicked in the ribs. The heavy boot hit me like a tank. My body slid across the snow, out of control, until a small rock wall stopped me. My knees folded into my chest on impact.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
I blinked the snow from my eyes.
The bowman turned Hiram around and sniffed at the bandages. “This one’s spoiled, he is,” it grumbled, dropping the boy into the snow.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
“Then we eats it last,” barked the swordsman, sniffing Livi closely. The little girl had her mouth open as if to scream, but nothing came out. She kicked and clawed at the vallen’s face, without effect. The giant licked his lips and made mocking snaps at the child’s feet as she squirmed. “We’s got plenty of meats to have before we reports back!” It cast a longing glance at Miriam and shuttered, clicking his teeth together. “Plenty.”
The bowman suddenly howled, falling to his knees.
“Let…her…go,” Hiram snarled, pushing a dagger deeper into the vallen’s side. He was hanging on the weapon, his body weight forcing the slim blade to inch its way further into the wound. Sweat rolled from the boys brow, teeth clenched in open anger.
I shook the stars from my vision, sucked in air, and pushed myself up to my knees.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
The wounded bowman spun and snatched up Hiram by his neck and collarbones. Yellow-green fingers squeezed. Hiram squirmed, his tiny hands raking at the giant’s hand to no avail. With a tug, the creature pulled the rusted knife free from his side. Black ooze dripped into the snow.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Get up Wendell, I commanded myself. My eyes were fixed on Hiram.
He hung there, completely defenseless, yet the snarl of anger never left his face.
No, not another. Please don’t. My heart pounded faster, wanting to jump from my chest. Move! Move! “Move!” I yelled aloud, throwing my body at Hiram in a full sprint.
“Maybe we eats you first!” hissed the bowman.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Everything slowed.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
…and the moist blade slid into Hiram’s stomach.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
A high-pitched shriek pierced the air.
It was a long, single-note cry, ripping at ears and spine.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Livi.
Her gaze was fixed on Hiram as his body collapsed to the ground, the long knife wedged in his bowels.
I dove over Hiram and tackled the bowman across the knees. The giants legs locked, the momentum carrying us both back into the bloody snow surrounding the stallion. We rolled once, slipping through the gelling blood. For a moment I wasn’t sure what was happening, other than I was suddenly on top.
All I could hear was Livi screaming.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
So I punched…with everything I had.
Bones broke. Blood splattered into my eyes.
…so I closed them.
Thick fingers with jagged nails clawed at my face. Fire raked over my flesh.
…I kept punching.
The clawing stopped.
“RRAAARGHHH!!” Evan screamed, lunging at the swordsman from behind. With his reclaimed hammer, the blacksmith drove the thick spike of the weapon through the vallen’s boot. The giant roared in pain, casting Livi aside. She landed hard on her backside, but only ceased her shrieking to take another breath.
Tha-THUMP-THUMP!
The blacksmith followed the giants momentum as it fell backwards. He planted a second mighty blow of the spike into the forearm of its sword hand. Metal sunk through flesh and exploded bone.
“YAAAAH!” it gurgled. The longsword clattered to the ground.
Evan pressed his advantage.
The hammer fell unmercifully upon the giants head, chest and defending arm. Tears mingled with sweat and rage as the blacksmith pierced his enemy with a dozen wounds. The war hammer vibrated like a tuning fork as it rebounded off the swordmans skull.
Miriam lunged after Livi, but the child sprinted, ignoring the blood and gore, and collapsed at Hiram’s side. Her screams faded to frantic sobs. Her shoulders shook as she sucked air in chunks, only to shudder and sob again. Tiny fingers tried desperately to push down on the blood, pumping up around the edge of the blade protruding from his stomach. The warm red liquid soaked her hands. Pushed up, between her fingers.
"Don’t leave me," Livi sobbed. "Please Hiram, don’t leave."
“Hiram!” Evan cried. The falling snow swirled in the air as the blacksmith dropped to the ground, just feet from his brother. “AHHRRRR!” he wailed, gripping his leg, an arrow protruding from his thigh. The thick black shaft stuck out either side of his trousers, the barbed tip covered in a crimson red.
We’d forgotten the second bowman.
During the confusion, the vallen soldier had failed to find a clear shot without wounding his own. Now that his comrades were dead, there was no such hesitation. The bowman fell back to the tree line and quickly nocked another arrow.
“More meat…,” it raised the bow, “for…,” it took aim at the blacksmith’s chest, “mea —”
A brief, short whistle streaked over my head. The vallen bowman arched backwards and fell into the snow, an arrow through his face. Dead fingers released the shot harmlessly into the air.
Sparks and ash tumbling over the ice as three men and a girl, silhouettes against the flames, pushed through the smoke of Woodside. The tallest male was wrapped in grey furs, carrying an immense longbow. He was bald, ears pierced with more than a dozen rings, and a wide red stripe across his eyes and cheekbones. He notched another arrow, cautiously scanning the area.
The girl stood close to the archer, only reaching his mid thigh in height. Her braided black hair was so long, it looped several times around her neck, like a scarf. Her dark brown trousers and tunic were overlaid with knives. Another set was strapped to her forearms and a third tucked into her boots. She noticed Hiram and immediately moved to his side.
“Let me help,” she said to Miriam. Pulling on a strap around her torso, it revealed a pouch. Kneeling beside Livi, small hands lifted even smaller hands from the wound. The stranger pulled a ball of cloth from the pouch and put it between her teeth. With a flick of her wrist and a grunt from Hiram, the vallen’s knife was cast aside.
The largest of the men pushed through the snow towards Evan and I. His chest was nearly bare, revealing a round, hairy belly, though he wore fur skin trousers, boots, and vambraces. His thick, brown cloak dragged through the snow, pulling the blood behind him. When he reached the blacksmith, he set down an enormous two-handed hammer beside him.
A round, jovial face, covered in a full red-speckled beard, studied Evans leg and promptly frowned. “That looks like it hurts.” Without waiting for a reply, the big man grabbed the arrow tip between his fingers, snapped it in two, and yanked the shaft through the wound.
It all happened so fast, Evan didn’t have time to cry out. His face went pale, eyes rolling back into his head. He fell over into the snow, unconscious.
The big man looked at me and nodded. “A lot.”
“W-who are you?” I stammered.
“One moment,” he replied, and lifted up the chain mail shirt of the vallen at my feet. Yanking free a large section of the smelly tunic, he flipped it over and over, between his fingers, folding it into a thick strip roughly two inches wide.
“Vasta,” he said, then wrapped the cloth around Evan’s wound.
“Heal him,” whimpered Miriam.
It was a moment before I realized she was staring directly at me. She softly rocked back and forth, Hiram’s head in her lap, ignoring everyone else.
“Heal him,” she repeated.
I looked around at the strangers, then back at the woman who had cared for my own wounds. “I…” but I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to help Hiram. Desperately wanted to heal him, but I didn’t know how.
“We need to move,” said the last stranger, a short, stout man, with a giant trident-type spear. He scanned the forest and said firmly, “Now.”
“Heal him!” Miriam pleaded again, her voice straining with urgency. “You have the power to save my child!”
“I…can’t,” I choked.
“You are the Gnolaum!” she cried aloud. Her face contorted in pain and anguish, fingers raking at Hiram’s tunic. “You are the greatest of all mägo!”
The strangers looked between one another. Vasta turned Evan onto his back and cast a wary glance at his female companion. “Kiljua — what’s she talking about?”
The girl placed a free hand on Hiram’s forehead, but it was immediately slapped away.
“You have not the skill to save my son — do not pretend!” Miriam cried. She nodded in my direction. “Only he has the skill!”
Like a jungle cat, she slid out from behind her son and lunged across the snow and gore. Her expression was wild…eyes wide, with a fierce anger burning behind them. Completely caught off guard, she knocked me onto my back. Her grip was so tight, I felt nails biting into my flesh.
“HEAL HIM!” she screamed…and tore open the leather tunic protecting my chest.
The Ithari sparkled brightly.
I should have hidden the gem when I changed with Evan in the blizzard.
Miriam rose to her feet, straddling my chest.
She looked at the gem longingly. Painfully. Then crying, she pleaded again. “Heal him.”
I looked into eyes withering between desperation and hope. Her brows quivered, pulling at the lines in her face.
“Please,” she begged,…then just above a whisper, “he’s just a child.”
It was the moment I’d dreaded. The moment I had feared. I was not the real hero and there was nothing I could do to avoid the truth of that fact.
“Miriam," I strained, just above a whisper, "With all my heart, I wish I could." I tried to blink the tears from my eyes. "I don’t know how.”
“He’s gone,” sighed Kiljua, her hand on Hiram’s neck. She stood upright and backed away from the body. “I’m sorry.”
Miriam stood over me, her eyes lingering, and I couldn’t look away from her.
She didn’t blink. She didn’t speak.
When she stepped away from me, she walked silently to her daughter. Dropping to her knees, she enveloped Livi in her arms, and tucked her own head into Livi’s neck.
They wept.
I sat upright, just as Evan gained consciousness.
“What…hap…” he started to say, but his attention was drawn to the sobbing. He looked to his mother and sister huddled together…and then his gaze fell upon his little brother.
“No,” he breathed. His lips quivered. “Please…no,” he whispered. Tears rolled silently down his blood stained cheeks. When he looked to me, his eyes dropped to the gem nestled in the middle of my flesh.
I pulled the torn leather awkwardly across my chest to cover Ithari.
“Let’s go,” said the man with the spear. “Get them up. Bear, help the boy.” The snow crunched beneath his fur boots as he walked towards the tree line, using the trident as a walking staff.
“Got him,” replied Vasta. Grabbing his stone hammer he rose to his feet and held out a hand to Evan.
“Will you take my son’s body?” murmured Miriam. She still cradled Livi against her chest. Tears streamed down her face as she stared into the flames of the village.
“I’m sorry,” replied Kiljua, “it would put us all at risk.”
Miriam nodded. She quickly wiped the water from her face with the dirty bandages around her hands. She helped Livi to her feet. Holding her daughter tightly against her, she said, “Then cast his body into the flames.”
“Mother!” cried Evan.
Her face was cold. Unfeeling. “That is not my son. That is a shell. But I will not have these,” and she cast a brief glance at the giant bodies lying prone, “things, consume his flesh!”
Kiljua looked to the man with the trident. “Keiha?”
His broad shoulders slumped at the sight of Miriam. He nodded.
The archer stabbed his bow into a clean patch of ice. Kneeling besides Hiram’s body, he tenderly slid his hands under the boys shoulders and legs. It surprised me when he leaned forward and touched his lips to Hirams forehead. “Sleep in peace, Child of the Highlands. Valon Jumala varjelkoon sinua. May the God of light keep you.” He stood and faced Miriam, head bowed. “Who is it that gave life to this boy?”
Pain wracked her face. “I am,” she said.
“Then as you gave him life, so you have power to seal him up,” he answered, then lowered the body, so Miriam could reach Hiram’s head and face.
Kissing the tips of her first two fingers on her right hand, she stroked her son’s eyelids and then wiped a sign across his brow. “May thy spirit rest in peace as thy body returns to dust. I seal you up until judgement, when all shall be made whole and justice shall find its foes.” She stepped back, gripping Livi tightly.
The archer walked to the edge of the flames and tossed Hiram’s body into the closest building still ablaze. He watched for a moment…as if waiting. Then, with a single nod, he turned, snatched up his bow, and bowed graciously to Miriam. “I am Nyoli, little mother,” he said. "Allow me to bring you and…," he nodded at Livi, "yours…to safety." Then he held out his hand to the little girl.
Livi took it.
Evan leaned heavily on Vasta’s arm, eyes fixed on where the archer had tossed Hiram’s body. He said nothing.
“Forgive me, little one,” he huge man whispered, “but we must travel fast.” Before the blacksmith could reply, the burly man scooped him up over a shoulder and sprinted after Keiha.
Kiljua stared at me.
Try as I might, I couldn’t completely cover the Ithari with the meager shreds of the tunic hanging from my chest. She stared at me openly. No blinking. No shame. It was not a harsh expression, either. There was no malice, fear, or judgement in her face. In fact, she didn’t even seem curious.
She simply…stared.
“Yes,” she said finally, readjusting the small pack hanging from her shoulder. She tucked it back under her cloak.
I looked at her, puzzled. “Yes,…what?”
“We will keep your secret,” she said.
There was no emotion or tell-tale signs to read. But strangely, I didn’t feel uncomfortable in front of her.
I snatched up Evan’s war hammer, left beside the body of the swordsman.
“Silmä inakmään,” I whispered…and Ithari faded from view.
It took a couple minutes of sprinting before Kiljua and I caught up with the party. We moved at a quick pace, pushing through the snow, which was almost knee high. Livi was clinging to the archer’s neck, standing in the strap of his quiver as he ran. Miriam was hard-pressed to keep up, staggering fourth in line, to take advantage of a somewhat leveled path. Evan, on the other hand, was biting his cheek in pain as the behemoth who carried him bounced along, jarring the blacksmith down to his teeth.
Through the trees we sprinted, weaving in and out of the frosted pines and oaks. Up over ridges, leaving most of the snow behind, we stopped at the edge of an immense field. Rolling hills of open crop fields, spanning who knows how many acres.
I gasped at the innumerable fires blazing in the night air. A sea of tents erected at the foot of our destination. Wedged between two jagged mountains was a mighty castle. The structure looked as if it had been carved straight out of the cliffs themselves. Small flickers of light littered the tops of the vast curtain wall.
“That’s Til-Thorin?” I asked softly.
“It is,” replied Kiljua.
I gulped. "But it’s…so far away. Past all of… them."
Kiljua put a finger to her lips, and nudged me forward.
Each step we took wrenched my stomach. There was no way we’d be able to get past the invading army without being caught. No way to get into the castle alive. The only road leading up to the keep was overrun with what looked like thousands of soldiers.
My heart sank.
I was too late.
We made a wide arch away from the encampments, weaving our way through the forest. It was a challenge at first, moving without sunlight or torch. Several times we stopped short, Keiha signaling us to drop to the ground. He and Kiljua would creep off into the brush to investigate, while Vasta and Nyoli would watch over us. I wasn’t sure what they would be able to do if we got caught, but I thought it best to stay silent, regardless.
Once Kiljua came back wiping a blade clean on her pant leg.
I decided not to ask.
We finally stopped outside of a small, dense grove of trees set against the side of the mountain. Keiha ushered us behind the grove, placing the Rocky Mountain at our backs.
Evan was set down onto a nearby tree trunk. Vasta, who seemed to be breathing without difficulty, leaned his hammer up against the fallen wood, and knelt down to adjust the blacksmith’s bandage.
Miriam collapsed onto her knees, gasping hungrily for air.
The Ithari provided all the endurance I needed to keep up, but I still wasn’t used to this much exertion. The familiar warmth of her power washed through me, making my skin tingle. My eyes had already adjusted to the starlight, and I wondered…were there other abilities my body would adjust to over time?
“Where are we doing out here?” I asked. “The enemy is between us and Til-Thorin. There’s no way we can make it into the Keep…” but I hesitated. I didn’t know if all of us could sneak past…but after what happened at the stream, I was pretty sure I could.
“Is that so?” said a voice from the darkness of the grove.
It startled me, as it did Evan and Miriam — but our new companions ignored it. They remained focused on their duties.
Another rustle, this time from above…and a figure slid down the trunk of a nearby tree. He wore cloth and leather, which helped him to blend into his surroundings. Five more emerged from the grove — figures shifting into focus.
…and I never heard them approaching.
Four men and a woman stepped into the moonlight. Her hair was long and wound around her neck, identical to Kiljua’s.
Help me.
I jumped up away from the rock, startled, and stumbled over my own feet. With a grunt, I landed on my backside in the dirt.
The voice! The child’s voice.
It was so clear. So close.
Where are you? I thought.
My abrupt reactions caught everyone’s attention, including a stifled chuckle from Kiljua.
“Is that him?” asked a shorter man, squinting behind one good eye. His other eye was hidden behind a rough-cut patch of leather. His shoulders and torso were wrapped in black furs. He scratched his peppered beard with one of the axes he gripped tightly.
Keiha nodded. “Yeah, Animal, that’s him.”
Animal snorted. “Right on time. How about that?”
I frowned at both of them. On time? On time for what?!
The woman at Animal’s side walked briskly to Evan. She knelt down next to Vasta, who seemed to be struggling with the bandage. “Need help?”
The big man grunted, his massive fingers fumbling with the blood soaked knot. “I’m a blacksmith, not a nurse, Diyana. I don’t need help — I need someone to take over.”
She laughed gently and shoved him aside. “Oh, quit your whining.” Looking up to Evan, Diyana gave him a reassuring smile. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”
“He can be treated behind the walls,” growled Animal. “Let’s get them inside.”
“How are we going to do that?” I said. “Did you miss the problem? The front gates are crawling with the enemy’s army!”
Bushy, black eyebrows rolled forward like waves upon Animals forehead. I couldn’t decide if he looked more like a bear or a wolf. “Then I guess it would be smart to use a side door,” he sneered.
Lifting Evan once more in his huge arms, Vasta backed away from Diyana.
Slipping her fingers behind the log Evan had been sitting upon, she fiddled with something that made an unusual clicking sound.
I heard a pop, then metal scraping against stone.
A cloud of dust burst from under the rim of the tree trunk. Diyana lifted the top slat of wood and held it open.
She held a finger to her lips and listened.
Taking a small rock, she dropped it down the hole and listened again. After several minutes, she glanced back at the group and patted the trunk.
“Everyone in, single file.”
Vasta leaned over the opening and lowered Evan down the hole. “It’s not a drop, lad — just watch the incline. I’m right behind you.”
The big man grabbed his hammer and climbed in, followed by the three men next to Animal. Two muscular men with hands and arms wrapped in cloth, and a third — an older man with a long ponytail and a cane. They each hopped down without hesitation.
Nyoli hefted Livi onto his shoulder. “Come with me, little one.” He smiled at her and winked, tapping his long finger under her chin. “We’ll find you blankets and food, eh?” Still sniffing and breathing erratically, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face from the cold wind.
When I stepped forward to climb down, Animal put a hand to my chest. “You stay with me,” he said roughly. It wasn’t a request. “Hold it open for Diyana,” he ordered.
I obeyed, because I have good manners…letting the older woman slip down into the tunnel.
Miriam walked slowly towards the trunk, eyes fixed on the opening. There was no life in her movement or expression. Her arms hung limply at her sides, hair moist and matted to her face and neck.
I wanted to say something.
My stomach turned as she slowly lifted a leg into the tunnel.
She had to understand that I didn’t know how to…
“Miriam,” I whispered, gripping the lid so tight, my knuckles went white.
She stopped her motion, swaying lightly, like a marionette, hanging from strings. Her sunken eyes looked up at me.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help Hiram,” I said, but the words got caught in my throat and I choked on them. “I just…I didn’t…”
Not sure what to do, I reached out and gently put a hand on her forearm.
Without blinking, she spit in my face.
<— Read Previous Chapter | Read Next Chapter —>
Author Notes
Oh…my…goodness…posted with 60 SECONDS to spare!???
Jaime
Welp,... this is the first time I plopped a chapter up without time for an edit.
... which I will do once the power comes back on. Hahaha.
Life is amazing, isn't it?