by J. McSpadden
"What's going on?" Peter yelled from the great hall's entrance, stumbling over the uneven ground.
"Peter, no—"
"Lunci?!" Peter bent down and picked his grandson up without difficulty, then turned to Marcus, whose mouth was agape in horror. "Send word to Romeo Village and White Wall. The beasts have come for her. Make sure to send out a rider to Vesyon, but no written message. We can't have any lost notes getting back to the King Regent."
"Yes, a-all right," Marcus stuttered, running back to the great hall with instructions for everyone to go back to their homes and remain there.
"What can I do?" Camille asked in a haze of panic as Peter took off in the direction of his cabin. Her voice wobbled and her knees crunched against one another as she stumbled after him.
"If we drain the poison in time, we might be able to save him," Peter called out over the rain.
"Drain the what? Poison?"
"Quick—to the house! The Chimera will be back soon!"
The square was chaotic, a rolling sea of bodies desperate for sanctuary. In the far distance, Camille heard loud metallic clangs so deafening that they vibrated in her bones: it was a warning that meant another Chimera had been sighted. The clanging bells strained for attention over the wild cries of panic as the villagers clamored into the closest buildings they could reach.
Camille didn't ask any more questions; instead, she followed closely on Peter's heel as he raced down the frenzied street toward their cabin. His eyes roved down every side street, and Neeko was pacing frantically outside his front door when they arrived.
As soon as they were inside, Peter set Lunci down on the wooden table before yanking supplies from his chest drawers, scattering bowls, plates, and cups in the process. "Get a fire going, we need to keep him warm. I'm not sure we got to him in time."
"What do you mean?" Camille asked, shoving heavy logs into the fireplace and desperately trying to make a spark burst to life. Her hands were steady as a rock, but her focus kept pulling her back to Lunci's greying skin and the gruesome gashes across his chest. After seven strikes against the flint stone, she was finally able to coax a spark into a rolling flame. Heat billowed against her cold skin, but she barely felt it.
"You said there was poison," Camille said, striding to the table. "From what?"
Peter turned around, a large bowl in one hand and dagger in the other. "Lunci's been bitten by a Chimera. If we don't clean the wound and drain the poison, he'll..." Peter trailed off and lifted Lunci's arm, dragging the sharp dagger along his delicate skin until blood flowed in a steady stream onto the floor.
"What're you doing!" Camille asked as Peter moved to the other arm and did the same thing.
"I'm draining him as much as I can. Now go to the butchery—in a small ice box you'll find five containers filled with blood and a red case next to it. Grab those and set the kettle over the stove."
Camille did as he instructed, soon depositing the items beside Peter and checking the kettle for steam. Peter moved around Lunci's limp form like a trained doctor, cutting the blood-stained shirt from Lunci's body to reveal several puss-filled puncture wounds. Peter wiped each boil with a cloth and lanced them with a small silver dagger. "Water! Pour it into a cup for me!"
Camille did so, and Peter poured the steaming water on Lunci's infected chest, dousing the wounds until they ran clear.
"I'm so sorry—I should've been watching him," Camille mumbled, her throat nearly as tight as her fists.
Peter's eyes flicked up to hers for a moment. "Camille, there are a lot of things I haven't been able to tell you—to prepare you for. But I can tell you right now that this isn't your fault."
As Camille opened her mouth to respond, a medley of terrifying howls rang through the village. At the eerie call, Lunci burst to life, echoing their sound through a gargle of mucus. Peter grasped the red box and pulled out a silk, tube-shaped bag attached to what appeared to be a snake fang with twine and beeswax.
"Hold this," he barked, handing her a small glass bottle of clear liquid as well as a bag full of blood. "I need you to slowly pour the liquid into this bag." He held out the device with a drawstring closure at the top requesting she pour the blood inside. It reminded Camille of the icing tubes Jyllel used on her decorative cakes. This contraption, in contrast, had a nasty looking fang jutting out the end.
"Get the next one ready," Peter said as he yanked the wax stopper off the fang end and jammed it into the crook of Lunci's arm. He gently squeezed the bag of blood forcing it through the hollowness of the fang into Lunci's body at an alarming speed.
When the first bag was almost empty, Lunci sat straight up with a piercing scream, his yellowed eyes wild and completely bloodshot.
"Quick! Camille, hold him down!"
She dashed over to Lunci and grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to pin the nine-year-old to the table. He thrashed against her, bellowing a garbled stream of cries and slamming his head repeatedly on the table's wooden planks.
"Keep his arm steady!" Peter screamed, replacing the empty bag with the second sack filled with blood.
"How will this help?!" Camille yelled over Lunci. "He's so strong right now!"
"I'm replacing his blood and injecting an antidote!"
The second bag of blood seemed to help, as Lunci ceased his thrashing and howls to instead dissolve into a whimpering, twitching mess.
Camille's arms ached from the strain of holding Lunci down. "Will he be all right?"
Peter prepared the third bag for use, filling it with the clear antidote before sliding the fang tip into Lunci's arm and squeezing the liquid into his body. "We'll have to wait and see. If the fever sets in, it's over." Despite Peter's calm tone, Camille could see how his fingers shook.
A soft, persistent scratching against the front door pulled her attention away from the dying boy on the table. Before either of them could peek out the peephole, the door burst open in a whirl of frigid wind and sleet.
"Is he all right?!" A voice growled gruffly from underneath a heaping coat of bear fur. A massive black hood kept the man's face obscured in shadow as he moved into the small quarters of the house and slammed the door behind him. His hands brushed over Lunci's tiny face and narrow neck, moving as gently as if Lunci were a trampled baby bird.
"I believe I got most of the poison out, but I just don't know. I don't know if I made it in time. The boy is so little," Peter said, voice hitching at the end.
"How long's it been?"
"Twenty minutes, maybe less."
The stranger removed some of his heavy furs and pulled back the hood to reveal a man not much older than twenty. His face, though tanned and lightly bearded, held a boyish youthful quality. Long black hair tumbled in a mess of tangles hitting just above the shoulders, but it was his grey irises that caught Camille's attention the most. She knew those eyes.
"Where did it happen?" the man asked, seemingly unaware of Camille's presence near the fireplace. She’d backed away from the table when the stranger burst into the room.
"The town square, just outside the main hall. Vesyon—the entire village could have been slaughtered. Thank Mother Ma'Nada that didn't happen," Peter ground out, wiping at the wetness in the corners of his eyes.
"The pack moved south from Charlie Town. I was in Whiskey Wharf when I received word from Langhorn," Vesyon said as he handed Peter a strip of crumpled paper. "I came as quick as I could, but they moved south toward Dun L'er faster than I imagined was possible."
"How'd you know about the attack?" Peter asked, squeezing the blood bag to hasten its absorption.
Peter shook his head but kept his focus on Lunci.
Vesyon paused, watching the old man as he worked. "On my way here, Neeko found me," he continued. "I'd warned him to locate me as soon as he saw the Chimera closing in. He found me this morning enroute to you."
"Neeko? But he was out yesterday afternoon with..." Peter blanched, his brow furrowing with sudden understanding. He aimed a questioning glare at
Camille, and she promptly looked down at her feet in shame. "It's starting, then. The Chimera is on the move, and they found what the high court’s been looking for. It won't be long before the King Regent hears about this."
"Someone must've aided the beasts in their search. I believe more than one is behind it," Vesyon said to Peter, before turning to regard Camille with indifference. "Have you followed my orders, Peter?"
"I have. She's been training."
Vesyon nodded and ambled toward her. "Do you know who I am?" He leaned toward her, his dominating stature causing her instincts to prickle in defense. Her fists unwillingly clenched at her sides as a tingle of acute awareness flooded her system.
"No," Camille said, standing to her full height and remaining a good half-foot shorter than the man. "Should I?"
Another echoing call pierced through the air, this one much closer than before. Neeko's fur stood on end, and he growled deep in his chest; Camille had never seen him so unnerved.
"There isn't time to explain what's happening. We need to leave. Now." The man moved deftly away from her, collecting his fur cloak and wrapping it about his shoulders before marching toward the front door.
"Absolutely not! I'm not leaving Lunci like this," Camille refused, crossing her arms and backing away from the hulking man. "Peter needs me."
Camille looked to the old man and her heart fissured—there was a shift swirling behind those blue eyes— a tremor of mistrust. It was then that she knew she was mistaken. He no longer wanted her to stay. She should've told him about the Chimera, should've known that the beast would come back and destroy everything she held dear.
"Where are her things?" Vesyon asked, oblivious to Camille's mounting despair.
She opened her mouth to snap that she didn't own a damn thing, but Peter responded for her. "Outside, north wall, under the house."
She wanted to scream, to utter words that would blast away any chance she'd have of ever being welcomed back. The monster inside her chest bellowed in rage, begging to be released, but something about Vesyon's austerity stopped her dead in her tracks. Whether it was his familiar eyes or his powerful aura, she held her tongue as he moved toward the door.
"I don't know if I'll make it back," Vesyon said to Peter, jerking open the front door.
"Just get across the river," Peter replied. "I'll handle my part of the deal if you handle yours."
Camille cocked her head at their cryptic exchange, but Vesyon was already moving through the doorway before she could question his intentions.
"Grab only what you can carry," Vesyon commanded over his shoulder as he left. Neeko followed in quick pursuit, the front door slamming behind the man and cat in a whirl of sleet and bitter wind.
Camille's eyes tore away from the door to land sharply on Peter's soft blue irises. "Please don't make me leave. I didn't mean to keep the Chimera I saw a secret; I didn't mean to betray you."
"There's nothing you can say to change the course of the evening," Peter said, turning to face Lunci before she could read his expression. "You need to grab your things and leave."
"Why? I can stay. I can protect you," Camille pleaded, her hand outstretched in desperation as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes unwillingly.
"I'm sorry, but you can't stay here. It's not safe. Vesyon will take you to the next village."
Camille sighed, her hand filled with the weight of understanding falling back to her side. She grabbed her hunting gear, her cloak lined in thick black fur, and her favorite dagger, shuddering all the while. In her broken memories, Camille only ever remembered Peter and Lunci, but she recognized the feeling of complete loss. She grasped the doorknob and steadied herself, stealing one final glance at Lunci sprawled on the table, his skin a healthier shade of peach and his chest softly rising and falling.
"Ad Astra per Aspera, Camille. Always remember that," Peter said from his grandson's side, unable to look away from her. "Go now, while you still can." His expression, though sharp and determined, seemingly brimmed with heartache as she watched several tears slip down his weather cheeks.
They stared at each other for a long, silent moment before Camille walked out into the black depths of the night.
Chapter Seven
Strangers in the Forest
Camille collided with Neeko the moment she stepped out of Peter's home, and the ordinarily sleek cat puffed with annoyance at her delay in leaving.
"I had to say goodbye," Camille bit out, blaming her tingling nasal cavity on the brisk chill and not the tears threatening to fall in rapid succession. Neeko wasn't moved by her excuse in the least. He mewled sharply and disappeared around the side of the cabin, apparently expecting her to accompany him.
Camille squelched her way over, the mud sucking at her boots with each step. A blast of rain pounded against her hood, running down her shoulders and arms in icy rivulets. The worsening storm’s barrage muted the sounds of the village, but she felt just as vulnerable and open to the shadows of the forest as she felt removed from it.
"Took you long enough," Vesyon said from the shadows. He stepped into view from an open gap beneath Peter's home, snug and removed beneath bright green shrubbery skirting the edges of the foundation.
"I had to say goodbye," Camille snapped back, unable to keep the sharp sting of abandonment from her voice. Despite the unavoidable turn of the evening, and the clear understanding that she was no longer able to stay with Peter, she still felt as though she had been deserted. She had lived in happy comfort with Peter for over eleven moons and in a single night she had not only lost her home but also the only two people she had known as family.
Glancing up through her downcast lashes, she noticed Vesyon surveying her with sharp, glinting eyes. His lips twitched, appearing as though he wanted to say something, but remained silent. He hastily handed her a sheathed sword, several glinting daggers, a worn leather belt, and a pack filled with supplies.
"These aren't mine," Camille said as she fingered the intricate weapons in awe. Vesyon grunted in reply as he bent down to right his boots and adjust the many weapons he had clipped to his belt. "Well thanks, I guess," Camille said almost to herself as she inspected the weapons more carefully before wrapping the belt around her hips, securely holstering the sword and daggers and pulling the pack tightly against her back.
"We need to go," he said, rain droplets catching on the fur coat draped over his shoulders like little glossy bugs, running the length of his upper body before losing their grip and crashing into the mud. The massive hood hung low over his hair, protecting his face from an onslaught of water. His silhouette appeared bearish in contrast to the sleek form beneath the layers of fur.
"Where are we going?" Camille asked, trying to engage him, but his stoic stature remained coolly silent. She was gliding her hand appreciatively over the shiny silver hilt of the sword, inlaid with fiery red rubies, when she heard the warning howls of an impending attack and froze in place. Her face snapped to Vesyon in apprehension but he remained calm, detached and void of emotion as the storm raged above them.
"They're here. Let's move."
"The Chimera?"
A second growl rumbled even closer, and Vesyon took off at a clipped run south toward the Dun L’er forest edge.
"Where are we going?" Camille bellowed as she vaulted over a fallen tree trunk and lurched into the maze of the forest—her forest.
"We need to get over the river!"
An overwhelming sense of desperation took over, and she felt her steps slowing, slipping out of rhythm. She craved a moment, just a single second, to offer her goodbyes to the life she'd had.
"And what about after that?!" Camille shot back, trying to keep her annoyance in check.
"Out of Sierra Village," he grunted over his shoulder as he continued to move in swift, even strides. "You brought far too much attention to yourself here. I thought someone of your stature would've been more careful."
"Excuse me? You have no right to treat me like a child—you d
on't even know me! And how are you so sure the Chimera are following us? We might've outrun them!"
As they entered a small clearing, Vesyon suddenly spun and growled at her mere inches from her face. "You've always been a hothead, Camille, but right now I need you to shut your mouth and follow my lead! You're either with me, or you're supper for them. Decide!"
The sharp spark in his slate stare made her stumble backward a few steps. Her back rammed into a rough trunk of a pine halting her movements and jarring her senses. His words came without sugar or tenderness; his meaning punched her straight in the gut. She had to make a choice, and there was no time to catch her bearings: leave with Vesyon and abandon Sierra Village or stay and find herself without a home.
Her eyes met his in resignation, a quick breath of understanding puffing from between her lips. "Fine."
Vesyon turned toward Neeko, sitting patiently at their feet. He whispered a short message to the sleek feline, and the cat sped away into the night as Vesyon faced west.
"Where's he going?" Camille snapped, feeling suddenly abandoned by the only friend she had left.
"To warn Romeo Village of what's coming." He said, ignoring Camille's obvious discomfort, before moving west into the dark depths of the forest. Camille followed without question, uncertain of what else she could do.
"He'll never forgive me," Camille mumbled as they marched at a swift pace through the underbrush. Immediately, she wished she could take back the unexpected words of vulnerability. Her eyes snapped up to Vesyon, seeing only a portion of his profile— assessing his reaction but he seemed as neutral as ever.
Together they moved, their boots a bare whisper through the layer of wet leaves. Camille walked in sync behind him through the thick growth of trees for almost a half mile before he responded to her. "Perhaps Peter isn't the one you need forgiveness from."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Camille snapped back at him, unable to control her reaction.
Vesyon sighed and stopped to face her again. The barrier holding back his emotion faltered, and for a mere moment, she registered sympathy swimming in the grey of his stony expression. He stood only a few feet from her but closed the distance as he reached a bare hand up to her cheek and pushed a flyaway curl behind her ear, his warm breath feathering across her cold cheeks. "I can see you’re feeling guilty, Camille. You're searching for forgiveness, but you won’t find it in Sierra Village."
