Auraus turned to Dusk. “Why do you think that being is roaring like that, Dusk? Do you think he is yelling to companions for help?”
His head snapped around to look at her, and he regarded her with a surprised but pleased expression on his face.
“Well, my dear, I am not sure,” he replied. “I have never heard anything like that before. Perhaps it is some sort of magical item that allows him to roar like that. And we can only hope that he has someone to call for aid. We will find out soon enough.”
The caged captives watched as the bundle was dragged over to the central fire pit of their most recent stop and held upright there. Auraus could not hear the words that the Miscere Ogre mage said over all the noise the being was making, but whatever he said only made the being angrier. Bascom, an indefinable expression on his face, reached into one of his many belt pouches on his hair belt and pulled out a small case. Opening it slowly, he took out a dart from it. The new prisoner gave a terrifying hunting-cat roar and struggled hard enough to nearly fall out of the guards’ hold. The mage stuck the dart into the captive’s neck and watched with satisfaction as the struggles got feebler and soon ceased altogether.
Mereik gasped. “Did Bascom kill the captive?”
Dusk shook his head. “Unlikely, since the Goblins went to the trouble of capturing the being. I would guess it is some sort of powerful sleep drug to make it easier to deal with the individual. Herbalists and alchemists can do wonders with plants, as some Priestesses can.”
Auraus nodded confirmation. “Priests and Priestesses can concoct many kinds of remedies if we are taught that path, as I was. Sleeping draughts like that, while a little rarer to make, can be done with the right ingredients.”
They watched as Bascom poured a vial onto the sticky strands and had the being removed from the net. This gave the captives their first real glimpse of the poor unfortunate.
“It looks like a ‘he’,” remarked Mereik as the prisoner was peeled out of the woven web with his back to them. The others nodded agreement. “But what is that thing hanging off of his, mmm, belt?”
As the body was turned over on the dirt in their direction and the hat fell off his head, Auraus realized with astonishment that the fur shirt they all thought the being was wearing was not, in fact, a shirt; and that the face was definitely not a Surface-elf. The face was elongated into a cross between a Surface-elf and a large cat, with a cat’s ears perched on his head. His eyes were now closed, but it could be seen that the sockets for the eyes were larger than normal. The tan and dark brown markings of a cougar were on the short fur that covered the whole of his body, which was shaped like a thick, sturdy elf’s. He had hands after a fashion, but his bare feet were definitely far more paw-like.
Which made that ‘thing’ Mereik had remarked on, a tail.
CHAPTER 10
“What is it?!” Auraus gasped.
“It looks like a cat creature of some kind,” replied Thoronis guardedly.
“I would have to agree with you there, my friend,” said Dusk, “but I have never heard of such a–being? Animal?”
The caged companions watched the cat creature be collared with the standard leather slave collar and stripped of all possessions.
“He must be more ‘being’ than ‘animal’,” noted Mereik as the items were tossed into a careless pile, “else he would not be wearing belted pants and a hat, or carrying a pouch and wineskin.”
“You are probably right,” replied Thoronis. “Look out; they are bringing him to us.”
Auraus’ white and gold feathers hackled, and she nervously backed up to the far side of the cage.
Dusk came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Do not worry, Auraus. He is a captive like us. I am sure there will be no reason to fear a fellow prisoner.”
She relaxed a little at Dusk’s words, but still watched warily as the unconscious figure was dumped into the cage. She could not say why, but there was something primal in her that was reacting badly to–whatever this was. Mereik went and slid her lap under the new captive’s head while the two Surface-elves rearranged his limbs to make him more comfortable. Auraus stayed where she was, carefully watching the unconscious body lest it leap up an attack her without cause.
“Can your Priestess herb lore tell us how long it will take for him to wake up?” Dusk asked.
“I–I do not know. It depends on what Bascom used, how much was used on him, and other things like that,” she replied, a nervous quaver in her voice that she could not quite control.
“Well, then, I guess we will just have to wait for our new companion to wake up on his own. Anybody have any ideas or heard any rumors about what he might be?”
Mereik smiled a little smile. “Not after meeting Auraus, I do not.”
“What do you mean by that?” Auraus asked the Gnome curiously.
“I had heard about your race from stories told to me by my parents as a little one, but I never thought you were real until I saw you for myself. So if my myths can become real, who is to say there are not other real races out there who might also be considered legends?”
“Do you know of any such legends about beings such as he is?”
Mereik cocked her head at Auraus. “Well, no, but that does not mean there are not any.”
“Right. Anybody else?” Dusk interjected.
Headshakes all around answered him.
“Well, I guess we will just have to ask him when he awakens.”
Not too much later the mountain-cat-elf creature stirred, and Dusk saw Auraus press herself as tight against the bars as far away as she could manage. She jumped when the creature’s eyes flew open, and she cringed all the way to the floor with her arms covering her head when he leapt up and over to the cage bars and rattled them while roaring. Dusk backed away to the left side of the cage to where she was, keeping the Wind-rider protectively behind him, as Thoronis pulled Mereik to her feet and backed them away as far as they could to the other side of the cage. The roars attracted Bascom’s attention, and he swaggered over.
“Well now, I am glad you are awake, kitty. You have been a very bad cat to escape before I was ready to present you to my Lady, but as you have ended up back with me, I will forgive you.”
“You! You! I will kill you if it is the last thing I do! Let me out of here!” the mountain-cat-elf howled.
“Temper, temper! I bet my Lady will like you. She likes a challenge in taming her pets,” Bascom grinned nastily at him.
The Miscere Ogre mage proceeded to outline the ‘deal’ he gave all his prisoners, punctuated by angry snarls and futile swipes of the creature’s claws between the bars of their enclosure. Bascom finished his speech and left, unfazed by the mountain-cat-elf’s actions. The furry captive gave one last angry shake of the bars, then noticed that he had cage mates. When he saw three wary faces, and Auraus’ plainly frightened one, he calmed down; though it was plain to see it was something of an effort to do.
“Do not worry,” he finally half said, half growled. “I will not hurt any of you. I am not a wild animal—well, at least I was not born one.”
Mereik peered around Thoronis. “What do you mean by that?”
“My name is Ragar Hoerned, and I am a Surface-elf. Or rather, I was one until recently.”
“Were you gods-cursed?” Thoronis inquired.
“Cursed? Me? No, though I guess I look like I have been.” He ran a stubby finger of his paw-like hand under Bascom’s leather collar and grimaced.
Dusk commented to Thoronis, “I have heard of god curses before, but I have not heard of any that left the recipient in a half-state before. Usually it is an all-the-way change.”
“Excuse me, I am standing right here. You do not need to discuss me in the third person. It is impolite,” Ragar said, his ears lying flat and his whiskers and tail twitching in annoyance. “I might say the same thing about half states about you—I have never seen a Surface-elf with your eye color before.”
Dusk’s face reddene
d a little with embarrassment. “You are right, and I am sorry.”
Ragar made a face, and then continued. “What I am is the unfortunate result of the madness of that Miscere Ogre mage outside. I was a Surface-elf who was changed by magic into what you see before you.”
“Well, that should be able to be reversed, should it not?” ventured Mereik as she came out from behind Thoronis.
Auraus, Dusk noted, stayed firmly behind him.
Ragar shook his head. “I do not believe so, except maybe by another full mage, or perhaps dragon or god-level magic. Let me tell you my story, and you can judge for yourselves.”
He took a deep breath. “As I said, my name is Ragar Hoerned. I was a hunter and fur dealer who had been part of a caravan traveling through these mountains. Our caravan was attacked by that Miscere Ogre and a bunch of Goblin guards, senselessly as far as I could tell. The last thing I knew in that fight was this large lightning bolt that struck down from a clear blue sky and knocked me out. When I awoke, I found that I was alone in a large stone tower room and had been put into a metal cage like an animal. The Miscere Ogre standing outside my cage introduced himself as Bascom Bloodknife, and said he wanted to tell me a story he had learned about some creatures called Winged Elves. He told me the Winged Elves had been created when a Wind-rider and an Elf had prayed to be true-mated, and the Gods in their wisdom merged the two different beings into two of a new race.”
Auraus, still behind Dusk, surprisingly said with timidity, “That is not quite right.”
“Whatever,” Ragar grunted, and she fell silent. “Anyway, he said he wanted to invent a new race for his Lady, but since he did not have divine means to make it happened, he would have to rely on his magic.”
“For his lady, or his Lady?” Dusk mused. “Is she his employer, or is she something more? Either way, I suppose it does not matter. Apparently enslaving sentients for whatever this parley is, is not enough. Bascom also has to modify some them with magic into beings unrecognizable as Elven.”
He tapped his fingers on his lips in thought. His cage mates, minus Ragar, looked horrified.
“But he cannot do that to us—can he?” cried Auraus, peeking out to crane her neck up at the mountain-cat-elf.
“Is that going to be our fate?” gasped Mereik.
Dusk said slowly, “I do not think so. Bascom told Auraus and I that we are to be part of a parley—whatever that means. And since you are with us, probably that is to be your fate as well. What I am finding rather strange is the parallel between his actions and the story of Caelestis’ ascension, which had many people praying for Her and Her Mate’s souls. Why would he need to make a new race of beings for his lady—or Lady, perhaps—if he needs to give away, or trade away, people to whomever he parleys with? It does not make sense.”
“But why the new race?” asked Mereik.
“Full mages have the power to do things that many people can only dream of. Perhaps he has a touch of madness that he thinks to create and give Ragar to this Lady Morsca as a gift.”
Ragar growled, “Then I have this ‘lady’ to thank for my transformation? Just give me a slow count to one hundred alone with her, and I will make sure no one ever has to worry about her again! Who is she, and where?”
“Her name is Morsca, but that is all we know,” Dusk replied.
Mereik asked Ragar, “How did you get captured here when you were imprisoned somewhere else?”
“Let me finish my story, then,” Ragar said bluntly. “Time after time, I was taken out of my cage and immobilized in a laboratory by being strapped to a sturdy table. The mage cast spells on me that changed me slowly. Eventually I had company when another caravan was caught and some of its survivors were brought and imprisoned in cages beside me. Finally I caught a lucky break. During the last session of magic—only a couple of days ago—Bascom made a mistake. He miscast the spell that was to put me back to sleep before taking me back down to my cage. But I pretended it had worked. Fortunately something called him away as he was unstrapping me, and he left me there, probably feeling secure in the knowledge that I was not going anywhere. When I heard the grinding of stone somewhere above me, which to me indicated some sort of door was opening, I wasted no time in escaping the tower. I got outside in time to see him fly away on a magic carpet.
“After I had been traveling for a couple of hours, I regretted my impulsive decision to escape without any provisions or equipment I could grab on my way out. Luckily, I came across a hunter whose prey had gotten the best of him and I scavenged what I could from the body. I have been free only two days,” he ended bitterly, punching the bars of the cage for emphasis, “and I have been captured by Bascom again! It is so unfair!”
CHAPTER 11
Mereik came over to soothe him, touching his arm in camaraderie. “We understand about Life not being fair. We are here, too. You have had a hard time of it, and I am sorry for your pain.”
Ragar quirked his face in what Auraus hoped was a smile. “Oh, I am not in pain now. In fact, I am getting used to this body. It just keeps surprising me from time to time, as I find I have instincts I did not know I had.”
“Such as?” Auraus asked anxiously.
“Such as I like my meat raw now, instead of cooked. And I scent, hear, and move like a hunting cat, it seems. If there is anything else, though, I do not know it yet.”
Dusk said, “For what it is worth, we welcome you to our little company, even if none of us want to be here. I am Dusk, the Wind-rider is Auraus, the Surface-elf is Thoronis, and the Gnome is Mereik. Mereik, why not fill our new friend in on some of Bascom’s, ah, past practices with us here?”
Auraus shuddered in remembrance as Mereik took Ragar aside. Dusk knelt down and tried to coax her into his arms to comfort her. She refused at first, but sought them out hurriedly when low growls came from the mountain-cat-elf as the Gnome spoke to him.
“What is wrong, Auraus?” Dusk asked her, stroking her soft white and gold wings. “You have been on edge ever since you saw Ragar.”
“He makes me feel somehow edgy,” she replied hesitantly.
“Why? He is a captive, just like you.”
“He is not just like me, or like us!” Auraus said, panic all of a sudden rising like a wave in her. “He is a mountain lion or something. You heard him say that he has got instincts he does not even know about yet. He is magically twisted, which will probably have affected his mind, and he will end up viewing us as a food source or something, and I cannot escape him because I cannot fly away!” She ended her rant in a wail, burying her head in Dusk’s shoulder.
The cage fell dead silent, but Auraus could not summon up enough energy to care. She heard Mereik whisper low and fast, but could not catch what was said. Then padded footsteps approached her, and she trembled.
Ragar’s voice said, “Auraus. It is true I am cat-like, and also true that I do not know the full capacity of my body yet. But please remember that I was a Surface-elf once, and that I still feel like a Surface-elf inside. Do not judge me by my outward appearance. Big cats may be natural hunters in the wild, but I am not an animal. I will not harm you or anyone here, and I now understand that it is fear and sickness that makes you think and speak the way you did. I hope that in the future we can be friends.”
Auraus lifted her head and looked at him, but did not leave the safety of Dusk’s arms.
“Auraus?” the amber-eyed Surface-elf prompted.
She sighed. “I am sorry for what I said, Ragar. I–did not mean to hurt you.”
Dusk gave her a little hug. “Well, now that things are smoothed over, I wonder what will happen next?”
Dusk was answered as the cage cart got underway with a forward lurch of the wagon, which sent everyone tumbling to the floor. As the afternoon passed and the wagons traveled on, the Miscere Surface-elf noticed with worry that Auraus grew lethargic again. It seemed that having been reassured that the mountain-cat-elf would not attack her out of hand, her spirit felt free to wander off. Dusk sat
and talked to her about nothing in particular, asking the sort of questions that he could guess the answers to, and continued to encourage her with thoughts of Quiris and Caelestis. Mereik and Thoronis helped at first, but as the hours dragged on and there was no sign of recognition from her, they gradually stopped helping.
Ragar shook his head at the Miscere Surface-elf’s efforts all afternoon. That night after camp had been made and Auraus was no longer awake, the mountain-cat-elf took him aside.
“Why do you try so hard, Dusk? She gives no response, like one who is dying.”
“She IS dying, Ragar. And I do not want her to die. Not only because I have been charged to watch over her, but because she is my friend and companion of long standing,” Dusk said sadly.
“Would affection have anything to do with your efforts? Do you know her that well?” Ragar asked with curiosity.
“You do not have to know someone that well to have that kind of affection for him or her, Ragar. But yes, she and I know each other well—she grew up in my home settlement, and has been a trusted companion of my bandit-raiding fellowship for the last couple of seasonals.”
“Bandit raiders?” Ragar asked, diverted from his line of questioning.
“Yes, the Grey Riders. Nearly two seasonals ago, we formed a group on our own to find out why the Garrend Mountains had become less hospitable to caravans and travelers in the last four seasonals. I saw a pattern of disappearances where no settlement official saw one, apparently, and I was determined to investigate it.”
Ragar gave a quirky smile. “And now you know.”
Dusk sighed. “Yes. And now I know. Unfortunately.”
“But that does not explain your efforts with the Wind-rider.”
The Grey Riders' Search Page 5
