The Northern Approach

by Jim Galford

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” the orc demanded, pointing a meaty finger at Estin accusingly. “Do you realize how much this has cost us all?”

  “I needed help,” Estin offered meekly, though he knew having a bloodstained fox wildling hiding behind him was hardly convincing. “I didn’t think I could face them alone—”

  “This isn’t about living or dying or saving each and every one of us!” On’esquin shouted back. “Some of us will probably die! Accept that and stick to the plan. We go north and try to find a way to stop Dorralt before his armies crush everything. We do this while doing anything we can to keep the mists from spreading. This is the plan…the only plan. For that, we need more power than any of us has ever possessed. That is why you were given a gift, Estin. That is what you have squandered! Oramain is gone…likely fleeing straight back to Dorralt. I can feel the damage doing this has caused to your body and spirit, and I may as well forget you being any help as well. This was a waste, Estin. A complete waste. Your whole life’s training was thrown away for a few hours of memories.”

  Estin glanced over his shoulder at Feanne, finding she no longer appeared afraid of On’esquin. Instead, she had begun to regard him in a manner Estin recognized…she was looking at him as prey. He needed to diffuse things quickly or she would try to kill the man and that would not end well for anyone.

  “We’ll be fine in a few days,” Estin offered. “I’ll be back to full strength with some rest. Give me tonight to say good-bye again, and we move on tomorrow…after…”

  On’esquin rolled his eyes and muttered to himself in a language Estin did not know before walking away to sit down in a huff near one of the trees.

  “Should I tear his face off?” asked Feanne, her mouth near Estin’s ear. Had she said nearly anything else, he would have happily closed his eyes and listened to her forever, but the calm hostility was frightening from a female that had always been passionate in everything.

  “No, you should not,” he told her, turning around to face her. He had to ignore the stink of dried blood on her, coating her whole body, so he focused on her face, clinging to her hands for support. “He means well. He’s a friend who’s angry.”

  Feanne frowned and gave On’esquin a sidelong glance, but nodded acceptingly. “And you’re a friend too?” Feanne asked a moment later. “The tree-lady acted like I should know you. I’m so confused…”

  Estin swallowed hard and replied, “Yes. I’m a friend. We’ve been friends a long time, Feanne. Maybe we can talk about that another time. Are you tired?”

  She thought a moment and then nodded. Without warning she reached up and raked her claws across his chest, drawing blood and shredding his shirt.

  Clenching his jaw to keep from screaming, Estin nearly collapsed, clutching at the deep cuts. He heard the others hop to their feet and fan out around him and Feanne, likely intending to attack her.

  “You bleed the way the dead people should’ve,” Feanne said absently, touching one of her claws to her tongue as Estin waved off Yoska and On’esquin. She smiled slightly as she tasted the blood. “It hurts you…they didn’t feel pain. This makes so much more sense to me.”

  Estin pushed through the burning of his skin, fighting tears as he tugged his magic into the wounds to mend them. Even as the wounds closed, his muscles and joints hurt from the effort and he felt as though he had contracted a horrible disease. Fever blurred his vision, forcing him to stop trying to heal himself. The wounds were not quite closed, but it was all he could manage.

  “Why hurt me?” Estin asked, once he could think clearly again. “I’ve tried to help you.”

  Feanne cocked her head and then seemed to notice the others, still ready to strike. Lowering her head and ears meekly, she whispered, “I wasn’t sure how things should react when I hurt them. Now I know. I didn’t think it through.”

  To Estin she looked contrite to the point of tears. Despite his exhaustion and lingering pain, he could not stay angry with her. Whatever had wiped out her memories had taken much of who she was with it. She was a child in an adult’s body, trying to quickly figure out how the world worked.

  “Come here,” he said as he settled onto a patch of moss and softer dirt with fewer sharp stones, while the others slowly relaxed. “We both need some sleep. Please stay by me, just for tonight. It’s safer. I won’t hurt you and all I want is someone to be near me.”

  Estin chose to leave out that it was likely safer for her than for him.

  Giving him a confused look, Feanne hesitated but soon nestled into the crook of his arm, putting her head down on his chest. It was difficult to remain calm, knowing soon she would be gone. Still, it was all he was ever going to have again, so he was willing to accept it. In a few hours, she would return to ash. Bittersweet or not, he breathed in Feanne’s scent, something he had begun to forget in the long weeks since she had died. In his heart he dreaded forgetting again.

  Closing his eyes, Estin hugged Feanne close and tried to sleep, hoping he would be able to make it through the next morning when she was gone.

  *

  Estin woke late in the morning, when the sun had come up enough that it shone through the trees’ boughs on his face. Groaning at the intrusion on his dreams, he reached out to his side, trying to pull Feanne close again. When his hands found nothing but dirt, he opened his eyes and knew there would be no more sleep for some time. He half-expected to find her bones beside him, but there was nothing. There was little more than a matted section of ground where she had been lying.

  Sitting up, Estin saw Yoska had prepared a small fire he was tending to, trying to warm a tin of tea. The gypsy was watching it intently, staring at the lip of the tin, lost in thought until he noticed Estin was awake.

  Smiling consolingly, he gestured for Estin to join him. “Ah, you wake finally, yes?” the man said, poking the tin with his finger and wincing. He sucked his finger and sighed, giving Estin a little smirk. It was a welcome change from the night before, when Estin had thought Yoska would have stabbed him. “Green man is sulking in woods and complaining about his many-centuries plan, while others are out hunting for breakfast. I have gone too many days dry and thought some gypsy tea might help make headache go away.”

  Estin thanked Yoska and got up, trying not to wince as his legs—and specifically, his hip—throbbed. Too many years of fighting and running were starting to take their toll on him, as were the injuries that had never fully healed. He was only ten and feeling like thirty years old. The effort of using so much magic during the evening made it far worse, and despite the last spell he had attempted, his chest burned painfully where thin lines from Feanne’s claws still bled. Touching them, he found the skin hot with infection.

  “You look like I feel,” Yoska noted, tapping the tin with a cup. “Water refuses to boil. I blame this on the magic you used last night. Is gypsy legend that making zombies causes plague and seven years bad luck. I am not saying I am superstitious, but is good enough reason to blame my headache on you, yes?”

  Sitting down hard, Estin could not make himself meet Yoska’s eyes. “Please don’t keep bringing it up. On’esquin will have more than enough to yell at me about. She was not a zombie…though I know she wasn’t herself. I’m sorry if it bothered you.”

  “Yes, yes, the green man gets very grumpy about this. I think you need good news to have good day, yes? Would it be enough to know that angry dead woman did not find us?”

  “Would that be enough if one of your wives came back for only one night and didn’t know who you were? Would you be in any condition to be happy after seeing your memories of her destroyed by your own arrogance?” asked Estin, joining Yoska in staring at the water that had begun to steam lazily.

  “Fair point, this. We move on to more good news, I think. Raeln has returned with a lovely morsel…and breakfast.”

  Estin smiled in spite of himself, turning and expecting to see Dalania with Raeln. Instead, he watched in shock as Feanne strolled into their c
amp at Raeln’s side, wearing a somewhat patched outfit that appeared to have been badly stitched together from garments each of them had in their packs. Both she and Raeln carried several squirrels and rabbits, as well as what appeared to be fruit tucked into the knotted fronts of their shirts.

  “I apologize,” Raeln said to Estin as he came up beside the fire and sat down the animals and fruit. “You were still sleeping and On’esquin was in no mood for hunting. She wanted to get out and see more of the woods. She also desperately needed cleaning and clothing. We chose not to wake you.”

  “You dressed and bathed my…you groomed Feanne?” Estin asked, feeling his temper begin to rise. The thought of another male touching Feanne…

  “Calm yourself, Estin,” Raeln replied quickly, laughing at some joke Estin was not in on. “I would not dream of imposing myself. Trust me in that. I merely wanted her ready to travel. Nothing has been done to her and I promise that nothing will. I swear that I would not touch her like that.”

  Estin struggled to keep calm. He was absolutely enthralled by watching Feanne now that she was clean and appeared happy, but at the same time, he was horrified at having another male wildling anywhere near her so long as she could not remember her past. Still, he knew his mate—probably better than she knew herself at this point—and had to trust that if she was going to recover and be who she was, she would need to do it in her own time…which she apparently now had more of.

  “How are you still here?” he finally managed to say, taking Feanne’s wrist as she sat down her own collected food.

  Feanne snarled and snatched her hand away, glaring angrily at Estin. “Keep your hands away from my food, prey,” she growled, baring her teeth. “You’ll eat when we say you can.”

  Any joy at having Feanne still around faded away, and the knife of guilt plunged deeper into his chest.

  Without answering his question, she backed away, giving him another annoyed glance as she went to the far side of the fire. Pulling her legs under herself, she wiped mud from her paws and watched him with open hostility.

  “She was awake when I got up,” Raeln confessed, sitting down near Estin and keeping his voice low. From what Estin could see, Feanne’s narrowed eyes darted between him and Raeln, clearly understanding they were talking about her. “On’esquin seemed to have an answer as to why, but he didn’t give it. I’m sorry, Estin…we’ll all do what we can. I’m even more sorry for my reaction last night. I can see now that whatever this is, it isn’t what the Turessians have been doing.”

  “Sorry doesn’t forgive what I’ve done to her,” said Estin softly, wrapping his tail around himself. It was a childish gesture of self-protection, but he could not help it. Worse still, that gesture seemed to annoy Feanne even more and her muzzle twitched as she watched him. “I’ve destroyed the very thing I tried to bring back. I’ve wronged her and destroyed a piece of myself in the process.”

  Raeln gave him a worried look. “I understand you wanted to help and thought you were doing the right thing. This is exactly why I have no intention of asking you to bring my family and friends back to say good-bye. There’s too much that can go wrong. Magic is not the hand of a god righting the wrongs of the world. It is just another feeble attempt to change things that are already bad.”

  Estin opened his mouth to say something, but then noticed the fox Dalania had disguised herself as, standing near the edge of the woods. She padded into the clearing, keeping her head low in an attempt to avoid any extra attention.

  “Thought she’d run off by now,” Raeln said, sounding somewhat concerned. “Where’s the other woman that helped last night? I wanted to thank her.”

  The fox’s surprise return was nearly forgotten as On’esquin came marching back into the area, glaring angrily first at Estin, then at Feanne, and finally at the fox. Sighing, the orc shook his head and pointed at the fox. “You! Enough of this,” he called out and Dalania froze, slowly looking his way. “Stop the games, child of the fae. I humored your deceptions for weeks…I will not continue. Either show yourself or leave.”

  The animal sank a little lower to the ground and finally stood up and closed her eyes. As she had the last time Estin had seen her change, Dalania’s body twisted and reshaped itself violently, returning her to her mostly human form. Getting up off the ground, she brushed herself off and gave Raeln a wink. Estin heard the man growl in reply, though he was not certain why…or why he was not more surprised to see the change.

  “How long have you known?” Dalania asked On’esquin as she came over to the fire and sat down near it, but as far as she could get from any of the men, which put her somewhat near Feanne.

  On’esquin waited until the woman had taken a seat before replying. “I’ve known since we left that lake. Your magic works on me as well as anyone else’s does, which is to say that it doesn’t. I’ll have you know, seeing through a shapeshift disguise makes you look ridiculous, running around on all fours like that. I could see your true form the whole time, with a shadow of the fox blurring a little at the edges.”

  Dalania blushed a deep crimson, made somewhat odd-looking with her green-tinted skin. Nervously, she wrung her hands as several leaves fell off of the vines that covered her body.

  “And you,” On’esquin went on, turning his accusing finger on Estin. “I cannot stress enough how big of a mistake you have made.”

  “Then explain it to me, instead of getting upset,” snapped Estin, no longer wanting to dodge the issue. “Tell me all the ways I’ve wronged the world.”

  “All right, let me simplify our situation. You gave up all the power you had at your disposal,” replied On’esquin, talking as though speaking to a child. “You still feel weak? Yes? That is because all of the magic I gave you is gone. You used it recklessly and tore it free of your own body. Now the spirit I had possess your body is gone, lost to who knows where. Given that Feanne is still here, I’m guessing you also weakened your natural abilities greatly. Whatever magic was left over is feeding her to keep her alive. You will not recover anytime soon, if ever, Estin. Your talent for magic was all but given up for this. You sacrificed everything but your life.”

  Estin instinctively reached for his magic within his mind, finding it elusive and difficult to reach. It felt as though he were wading through a bog to try to touch the flows of magic that had always been readily available, since the day Asrahn had taught him the art. Such a simple gesture made him feel sick to his stomach.

  “I thought as much,” On’esquin added, having seen something in Estin’s reaction. “To make matters worse, this was not temporary. She is still here.”

  Feanne glared at On’esquin and said quietly, “She can hear you and she’s not amused.”

  Ignoring her, On’esquin continued. “What is she, Estin? Did she possess some natural ability to heal or recover from injury? There is something keeping her body from falling apart again, beyond her spirit leeching off of your magic. Simply casting the spell wrong would have drained you until you died, but your condition is not deteriorating, which tells me that she has something special about her that supplements the magic.”

  Estin looked over at Feanne, who was watching him intently, obviously wanting to know more about herself. In her disoriented condition, that was the last thing he wanted to talk about around her, but he saw no other way. He would have to be very careful with what he did say, or she would become far angrier.

  “She’s a lycanthrope…a were-fox. She heals very quickly and always has. It’s supposedly a curse of sort, like the one that affects werewolves, except more…um…fox. That was why I wanted to use the power you gave me to bring her back. She is the strongest of us.”

  “She was,” On’esquin retorted, while Feanne gave Estin a look that told him she did not believe a word of what he was saying. “You brought her back and now that curse is keeping her alive. I doubt she will be able to do much more than breathe for some time. I do not claim to understand the magic keeping her alive, but to me, she is a…a t
hing, little different from the zombies we fought out there, other than having a pulse.”

  Without a word Feanne leapt to her feet and ran into the woods, though On’esquin did not seem to notice.

  Estin began to get up to go after her, but Raeln put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll calm her down and bring her back. You settle matters here.”

  Estin watched in dismay as Raeln took off into the woods after Feanne. He was so tired and so afraid that he had done the wrong thing, selfishly bringing her back when he should not have even considered it. His doubts and fear consumed him, drowning out On’esquin’s ongoing ranting, slowly blurring into a seething anger. Estin was angry at himself, angry at the world for taking Feanne away, and most of all he was angry at the war that had brought about so much pain and suffering for so many people. That anger suddenly rose up against On’esquin as the man continued to rant about Estin’s decision, though Estin had long since stopped listening to the words.

  Getting up off the ground, Estin found himself already midmotion as he struck On’esquin across the jaw and followed it up by pushing the man over backward. Judging by the look on On’esquin’s face, Estin had caught him by surprise, and he came down with a grunt hard enough that he kicked up dust around the fire pit, while Yoska attempted to cover his tea.

  “I’ve had enough!” Estin shouted at On’esquin. “I walked away from you once and I’ll do it again. A little gratitude for saving your life wouldn’t be out of the question. My instincts told me to leave you all and run, but I came back for you anyway. What is really wrong, On’esquin? It obviously isn’t me. I’ve done everything you asked, right up until I had the chance to save a life. Tell me what you want of me.”

  Rolling back onto his feet despite his heavy armor, On’esquin stepped up close to Estin, his anger only barely controlled. “We’ve fought before, Estin,” he warned, his voice low. “Do not push your luck. Your son isn’t here to save you this time.”