by Lena Austin
Kella quirked a sardonic smile at her. “Yes, not only is that gate closer to the Valley walls, but it is a more discreet exit for me.”
Sedna walked her companionably to the gate, making note of the plants Kella pointed out. “I’ll see you in three days, my dear. I’ll be there starting at dawn.” She drew a paper from the pocket of her robe. “Here’s a map to get you there. It’s not difficult.”
Kella nodded, and teleported away.
Once she stood near the Valley shield, Kella hunted up a convenient rock about the size of her palm. “Okay, Tanne. You say rock holds magic reasonably well. Let’s see if I can create a thing that holds an emergency supply for me. I may need it.”
She fed power into the rock until the quartz within it glowed, even without mage sight. She created a saddlebag, stuffed the rock and map within, and threw it over her shoulders. She manifested parchment and pen, and scrawled a quick note. Teleporting it to be found on the kitchen table would have to do.
“Now comes the tricky part. Instead of a Unicorn, I must take on the guise of a creature I’ve only seen in picture books: a horse.” She gazed at the Valley that was her home and sent a silent prayer that she’d see it again. “All right, Kella. Quit stalling. A horse is little more than a dull-colored Unicorn with no horn, and not as pretty. Brown is not a bad color, and a horn is nothing but fingernails grown long and shaped funny. You can be a hornless brown Unicorn.”
She felt the familiar twinge of change, and trotted over to check her appearance in a nearby small pond. That will do. Ugly, but unremarkable is better.
She looked at her home, mentally squared her shoulders, and stepped through into the dangerous world of humans.
Chapter Seventeen
Kella oriented herself using her memory of the map. It wasn’t difficult to find the landmarks she needed, so she began to trot in that general direction. There was a village to be skirted, which she found easily enough, and kept to the woods surrounding it.
Moving through scrubby undergrowth slowed her down, but it was better than using the track carved by humans. They were to be avoided at all costs. Flying might have been better, except she would have no way to carry her rock or map. Teleporting was also out of the question. There simply wasn’t the magical energy to make it possible. The Valley gathered it all, according to legend. This horse shape was the best compromise she could come up with.
Late into the night, she found the human horde. It wasn’t difficult. They’d made fires and slept in cloth shelters. Seen from her perch on a ledge that jutted out from the mountain track she’d been using, they sprawled like a small ant colony, trampling down a fine meadow. There were humans posted on the perimeter, half asleep while standing up, each leaning on a long pole with a large, wicked point of metal at the top.
The smell of burning meat and bone was sickening, as was the stench of the trenches where a few staggered out of their shelters to relieve themselves. She backed away from the edge hastily and waited until a breeze cleared her nostrils.
This mountain trail would be a good way to get the villagers out. If she guessed correctly, the humans had only arrived that evening, judging by the way the horses below looked tired and dusty. She hoped someone would allow them to go bathe or get a drink, poor things. They were all tied up, and some even had ropes around their ankles. Pitiful. Why didn’t they chew themselves free?
No matter. Freeing them wasn’t her responsibility. Maybe they were friends with the humans and content to remain. She moved on, placing her hooves carefully to avoid making noise. It would be a bother to be thought one of those horses and be confined.
When she could go no further without rest, she found a small sheltered glade and grazed, then slept. Tanne had been right. Grass wasn’t appetizing, but it was filling.
She trotted into the Vampire village at dawn, apparently causing quite a stir. Rather than risk ending up hobbled with ropes, she made a game of it, enticing all who tried to catch her until she reached the village square. By now, the hubbub had roused the mayor, dressed in his medallion of office and holding a steaming mug.
“What’s going on here?” he shouted.
Kella stopped her game and transformed. An audible gasp rang out from the crowd, and those who’d been reaching out to catch her snatched their hands back as if burned.
She performed her best curtsey, and smiled winningly. “Good morning, Your Honor. My name is Kella, and I bring grave news. This village will be attacked by humans tomorrow morning!”
The mayor paled and stepped back a pace before regaining his composure. “What do you mean, young lady? We are all humans here!” He was visibly sweating, but the collective intake of breath and mutters of “Humans! Oh, no!” from the crowd were more telling.
Kella bared her fangs. “Don’t play games with me, Sirrah! I am here to lead to safety those willing to go.”
The mayor flicked his eyes over the crowd. “We will hear what you have to say in Council, Kella.” He bowed and led her across the village green to the building that was probably the main hall, above a large stone tavern.
More important to Kella, she saw people sprinting off in all directions, and knots of others talking. Knowing politics well from her time in the priesthood, Kella knew how decisions could be delayed by talking them to death.
She made her voice as carrying as she dared. “I’ll not spend all day attempting to convince you, Mayor. Tonight at sunset, I will meet here on the green anyone willing to go. They must take only what they can carry.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw some of those who remained look up and nod at her, as if to say, “We understand.” More people left, some at a dead run.
Others separated themselves from the knots of Vampires and followed the mayor and Kella. By their prosperous manner of dress, she assumed they were the village council.
A matron whose dress and apron were richly embroidered marched right up and began to walk with Kella. She smiled and introduced herself as “Marget, Embroiderers’ Guild. We should talk sometime. I love the pattern on your apron.”
Kella smiled at a kindred spirit. “It is my own design.”
Marget nodded appreciatively. “Then, indeed, I’ll look forward to it. I must know where you got that good, strong scarlet color.”
She might have said more, but the mayor quelled her with a look. Marget’s mischievous wink at Kella was undeterred. She muttered, barely moving her lips. “I’ll see you at dusk.” Then she moved on to take her place at the end of the table.
Kella was left standing in the center of the U-shaped table and made to repeat her tale. When she described the location of the human army, one young man rose and bowed himself out without a word. Undoubtedly, he was going to fly out and verify her words. The others who remained questioned her sharply on every detail she knew. How she’d found out about this village, how she knew where the army was, and how she proposed to lead the people to safety. Some scoffed, but more listened.
Finally, after a sharp word from Marget, a chair was brought for her. The innkeeper appeared with a tray of food and a goblet of fresh, still-warm blood. Kella drained the goblet with polite thanks and nibbled from the tray.
Morning became afternoon before the young man returned and burst into the room. His terrified shout of “Humans! She spoke the truth! A veritable army approaches!” galvanized the last skeptics.
At last, the council believed. They began to argue, some wishing to remain and act as if nothing could possibly be wrong, hoping to fool the humans into believing they’d made a mistake.
Kella’s weariness began to tell on her. She drooped in her chair until Marget rose from her seat. “I’ve things to pack. If you fools wish to argue your lives away, feel free to do so. I’m taking the safe route.”
She yanked Kella up by the arm and pulled her from the room. Kella stumbled behind her, down the stairs and out the door, until they stepped into a fine cottage with a real porch. Kella looked with longing at the large couch t
hat comprised the living area.
Marget gave her a shove toward it. “Go take some rest, my dear. I’ve things to do, but if you’ve done what you say, then you are surely dead on your feet. Sleep! I doubt my little bit of packing will disturb you. I’ll wake you in time for a bite to eat before dusk. That I promise.”
Kella didn’t argue. She flung herself down on the cushions, and nestled her head on one embroidered with hummingbirds. She was asleep in a matter of moments.
* * * * *
Marget looked very different when she shook Kella awake. Instead of a rich gown, she was sensibly garbed in a tunic, long divided skirt, and boots. A bulging pack stood ready beside the door, and plates of toasted cheese on bread waited next to steaming bowls on the table. They ate in silence.
Marget finished first and threw her bowl in the sink without rinsing it. “First time in my life I haven’t cleaned up after dinner!” she laughed. While Kella repeated her actions, Marget swung her pack on her back and picked up a staff propped by the door.
The same young man who’d flown out to verify her story waited on the stoop. He got to his feet and bowed. “My name is Jem. I hope you don’t mind that I sat here.”
“Thank you, Jem. Your support is appreciated,” Kella began, uncomfortable under his frankly appraising stare.
“I’ve an idea, if you don’t mind my saying so, Lady,” he offered.
“Stop that, Jem.” Marget’s tone was acerbic. “Make your offer and stop staring at Kella like she’s a choice meal.”
Jem blushed and shuffled his feet. “Sorry. Um, some of us are better at bat form, so I gathered a few to act as scouts. Those who are better at lupine form are sharing our packs, carrying one for themselves and one for those who fly.”
Kella smiled, earning another blush from Jem. “An excellent notion!”
Marget put in, “Jem is holding the place of his father, the Carters’ Guildmaster. He does well in organizing things.”
“Thank you, Aunt Marget. Now, I’ve one more suggestion. Kella, you came here as a horse. We’ve a few younglings more than can be carried by lupines. Would you be willing to carry a few in their bat form? I’ve brought a blanket to give them something to cling to, and strong ropes to tie it firmly to your middle.” He lost some of his confidence. “If you’d be so kind?”
Kella clapped her hands together and applauded. “Jem, that’s brilliant. I’ll be happy to do it. You’re in charge of the scouts.” She started to walk to where a fair-sized throng of some thirty adults waited. Little ones played, uncaring or oblivious to the situation.
Marget and Jem marched on either side. Marget leaned over slightly toward Kella. “I’ll manage the lupines. You just lead us to safety. We can always rebuild in your Valley.”
Kella nodded, then walked over to stand on a convenient stump. Marget and Jem separated to stand at opposite ends of the crowd.
Kella wasted no time in stirring speeches. “Everyone who flies well, go stand with Jem. Those who prefer lupine, go stand with Marget. All the younglings who are too small to run or fly beside their mothers, I will carry on my back in bat form. Mothers, please stay with them until they are secured.”
The crowd separated, leaving a few young mothers with babes-in-arms in the middle. Kella pointed to the mountain track she had used to come in. “We will take the mountain trail, since the humans block the pass. We must be stealthy and silent as fog. If legends are correct, humans prefer to attack at dawn.” There were emphatic nods. “If we travel through the night, we might be behind them and out of sight before the sun rises.”
“How long before we get to this Valley of yours?” someone shouted from the back.
Apparently, those few of the Council present had filled in a few details from the meeting. “I got here in a day. I’d imagine it will take us one or two to return. I’d prefer one, if we can manage it.”
“We’ve reason to run and fly our hearts out!” another voice cried. There were shouts of agreement.
“Then let’s make speed.” Kella jumped down and transformed, Jem running up with rope and blanket in hand.
“I’ve another idea,” Jem whispered. “Let an adolescent ride on your back in human form. That way, the humans will see a horse that is ‘owned’ by someone. They won’t try to steal you then.”
Kella nodded her agreement. Jem beckoned, and a young boy ran forward. Jem boosted him up, and the boy grabbed a handful of mane. The babies were transformed by their mothers and placed on Kella’s blanket. In the growing dark, the blanket only looked a little lumpy. It would work.
No further words were needed. Kella moved off, as bats and wolves replaced human forms in the darkness. Other lights stayed on in certain cottages, and Kella couldn’t help but feel pity for those too stubborn or naïve, who chose to remain. She wished them luck.
The flock of bats swarmed ahead, led by one she assumed was Jem. The wolves ran ahead and waited at the edge of the forest at the base of the mountains, their eyes shining in the darkness. Only a few Vampires remained to pace beside, or flit overhead. Kella assumed those were the parents of the infants she carried.
Silence was maintained as the group made their way deep into the mountains. As they passed on the trail above the human army, some wolves looked over the ledge, whined softly, and ran on. Kella placed her feet very carefully, for even this late at night, one stone going over the edge or being stuck in her hooves would be disastrous.
It was an edgy, dangerous night. The moon rose, a mere sliver in the sky, and made its slow way on its course. Kella herself began to stumble with weariness, and the occasional movement of stone and suppressed yip told her she wasn’t the only one barely able to go on.
When the moon was little more than a tip over the mountaintops, they came to a clearing in a scrubby pine forest. There, in the darkness, Jem waited in human form.
“We cannot go on, Kella.” He spoke softly, but with his words, many of the wolves dropped down into the pine needles littering the forest floor. The tiny squeaks of bats above her head told her where the flyers had lodged themselves.
She nodded her head, and didn’t bother to transform. It was too much effort. The boy on her back clambered down and dropped lightly into a pile of needles. He was asleep where he fell. Mothers silently came forward and removed their babes, but left them in bat form. A few blankets appeared, and were shared out among the old and the children. Many of those who’d chosen lupine curled up with their noses in their tails, praying their fur would keep them warm enough to survive the cold mountain air.
Jem spread Kella’s blanket out on her back, and left her with a courtly bow. He flew up to join the colony of bats huddled together in the branches. Kella couldn’t see Marget, but assumed she was one of the weary wolves curled up like furry cushions in a strange pine forest bed.
Alone with her thoughts, Kella shivered despite the blanket. She missed the warmth of the Valley, and the warmth of Tanne’s body next to hers.
The boy whom she had carried had transformed and now cuddled up with his mother in lupine form. Her mate curled up beside them both. The mother sniffed her brave son and licked his head, causing him to sigh in his sleep and squirm closer. She looked at Kella with serenity in her eyes, then put her head down to sleep.
Kella envied them for a brief instant. Homeless and on the run, yet that little family was happy simply to be together.
She suppressed that longing for a family ruthlessly. She’d been told long ago that she’d never bear children, and now she’d guaranteed it by loving one not of her own race. Tanne was a Unicorn, first and last, no matter what form he took. Even his falcon form had a tiny horn button among the feathers. There would be no children for Kella, but oh, how she longed for that simple joy. Not only had the Vampire healers told her she’d likely never bear her own, but Tanne was not a Vampire.
She shook her head. She’d made her choice, and she would live with it. Because living without Tanne was unthinkable.
Chapter Eig
hteen
Kella awoke to the sounds of birds beginning their morning wakeup songs. A few wolves already shook themselves awake, tongues lolling out with thirst. The nearest available water source Kella knew of was in the Valley, and she was sorry for making everyone do without. Someone with good sense transformed and shared a small bowl of water with the thirsty young ones, knowing their needs came first.
Marget transformed and walked over, Jem close behind. A few interested adults joined in the conference. Kella transformed to human so that she could speak, not knowing if any had the gift of mind-speech.
Marget spoke first. “I assume there’s no water not in the hands of humans hereabouts.”
Kella shook her head. “The human army has control of the nearest, I think, and the next is a well in a human village. We dare not.” She thought longingly of her ubiquitous mug of tea, and squelched that wish firmly.
Jem squared his shoulders and smiled grimly. “Well, we won’t die ‑‑ just be damned uncomfortable.”
Kella looked longingly down the mountain to the area she knew the Valley was in. “We made good time last night. I think we’ll be there late tonight or early tomorrow morning. Do you think we can hold out for so long?” There were so many to care for, and some so young! The weight of responsibility felt like a boulder in her heart.
Jem sighed. “Yes, but the thirst and fatigue won’t be easy. As much as I might prefer to send a few agile climbers up to the snow line to bring back snow to melt, and perhaps a few more to hunt, I don’t think an excursion would be wise.”
Marget looked thoughtfully down from the mountain. “We’ve a few extra flyers. Spread them out, and perhaps we might find a small spring in the forest below.” She pointed. “Do you see the patch of bare rock, about halfway through? Can your scouts meet us there? If we make speed, such a place is a good stopping spot to count heads and rest before the final push.”
Kella and Jem looked where she indicated. Both nodded.
