First Quest: The Mentalists series Book One

by E. Molloy

  "You do not trust me to hold up my end, or is this a father's plea to see his son one last time?" she asked, another small twitch showing at the corner of her lips.

  Ragen licked his nose, something he often found himself doing when he was irritated (as a wolf, anyway). "Yes to both of those," he replied simply.

  She seemed to consider the option a while, her still and expressionless form looking straight forward at him. Their noses were nearly at the same level, though he did stand a good distance away from her. With a simple nod, she replied, "He will find you."

  "That before or after I do whatever you want?"

  "Before."

  His heart skipped. "Okay. What do you need?"

  "Lead them out of the forest."

  "Out? Wait...you're letting us leave? Both of us?"

  "Only you."

  Ragen paused. "I don't go anywhere without her, you know that."

  The witch took a long breath, and then shook her head. "She will be free to leave, but she will not. It is her decision, not mine. You will understand. Lead them out of the forest. Get to the castle and save the princess."

  "You mean save the princess and get to the castle."

  She shook her head once, as if to disagree. "Get to the castle. Then save the princess."

  He didn't have the patience to play this game. Ragen sniffed at the air. He had work to do and a goal to work towards, and a hell of a lot of drive to get away from her. Locating the scent of his companions, he found his destination. Then recalled an unfortunate obstacle: the fairies. No matter how hard he sniffed at the air, he couldn't pinpoint their location.

  "What about the fae..." he started, turning to face an empty forest. The witch had gone, and just behind where she had been sitting were twin trees that didn't belong. Each was about as wide as a person, and their branches split at the middle like two arms reaching up toward the sky. About six feet up, he could make out what appeared to be faces, their features contorted in horror.

  There was a small part of him that felt victorious, but his hair stood on end the longer he stared into the terrifying expressions of those who had faced something with more power than should be allowed to exist. He sighed. "Can't say I didn't warn ya," he muttered to the trees, tearing his eyes away from the gruesome sight and hurrying off toward the scent of his companions. He thought he heard a groan behind him as he left.

  Chapter 19

  The forest was silent; Daveth's untrained human ears picked up nothing in the distance save for the raven shuffling on the branch above him. It had come to sit closer when Daveth crouched against the tree. He had laid Lillian down on the ground next to him, but was still watching her carefully. Her feet were bloodied, and she had bruises on all of her joints and her cheeks. Though it had been at least half an hour since she'd moved, she was still sweating heavily, and tears still streamed down her cheeks.

  He was still trying to figure out how he was going to get the Princess to safety without having to leave his sword behind, and whether or not he should wait for Ragen. The bird wasn't pushing forward, and he was told to follow her. So far that had worked out, but he was starting to get anxious.

  The bird let out a caw, and Daveth looked up at her. "Well what do you want me to do?" he said, louder than he should have. A rustle in the bushes nearby sounded as response. His legs straightened instinctively, and he stood fists at the ready. He popped the button lock off of the sheathe on the fur vest he wore, retrieving the small knife that Ragen had given him earlier. Lillian was unconscious, but she let out a groan. The timing couldn't have been more unfortunate, and right as she did the bushes began to shuffle faster.

  He couldn't fight those people, whatever they were. Fairies or people, he was still just running around mostly naked with a knife he'd never trained with toting a defenseless and unconscious princess through the dark forest. What had this day come down to? The sun had started peeking through the leaves overhead, and he was able to at least see a little bit better, though the contrast of light and dark was making it harder for him to see in the dark spots.

  Through the bush rolled a ball of green slime and feathers, covered in leathery patches. The ball uncoiled as it slowed down and went onto all fours, beady yellow eyes peering over at the princess, then shooting up to Daveth. "It okay?"

  "Glop? W...what are you doing here?"

  "It left without us," the swamp rat shrugged. "We smelled it, found it. Brought a shiny in case." The creature toyed with the chain around its neck, letting out a gurgling purr.

  Daveth let his guard down a bit, then hurriedly tried to think of how this would make things easier. They needed to get out of these woods, or at least as far away from those things as possible. The raven overhead screeched in protest of the little creature, but Daveth mostly ignored her.

  "Listen, we need to get out of here. Can you get my sword and meet me back here?" he asked. The bird screamed angrily again, but Glop nodded. Apparently the creature didn't need to be told where to go as it sniffed the air and darted off gracefully into the woods. After a few minutes of waiting, Glop reappeared with the sword. "Messy ground," he said, pointing to where he'd come from.

  "The fairies are gone, though?" Daveth hadn't even thought of that before sending his friend out there.

  The creature nodded. "Messy messy," he said, still holding onto the sword.

  "Do you think you can carry that for me for a bit?" Daveth asked, bending down to lift Lillian into his arms. The bird screeched in even louder protest, and Glop looked back to her and mimicked the sound perfectly. She ruffled her feathers, and the feathers at the swamp rat's ears ruffled subtly as well. His cheeks puffed up and a bubble of slime grew out of his nose and popped. The bird turned her head away, and Daveth just watched on trying not to gag. After the display, Glop looked at the sword curiously. The sun glinted off of the blade and his mouth opened wide in the scariest sharp-toothed grin Daveth had ever seen. The hair on his arms stood up, as Glop replied, "We can carry shinies, yes."

  Glop hugged the weapon tight to his chest, the thick slime and skin-clothing protecting his fragile skin from the blades. The long sword was taller than Glop, and he had to lift it in his arms to keep it off the ground. He looked incredibly satisfied, despite the seemingly uncomfortable position he was in.

  "So much thanks, it gives us shinies."

  "No, Glop, it's still mine. I just need you to carry it while I carry Lillian," he said, finally standing with the princess in his arms.

  The creature's tone remained excited. "Oh we knows, we gives them back we promise. We just likes to hold them sometimes. Shinies." He let out a purr again as he rubbed his oily head on the blade.

  "Great, that works out great, Glop," Daveth replied, not really caring how happy the thing was about their situation. The raven cawed again, this time flying off the way she had tried to go before when Daveth had stopped. They couldn't wait for Ragen any longer. Hopefully he'd catch up soon. If not, the oddball group was going to have to continue on their own.

  The princess wasn't heavy, but the weight of the past few days and his lack of rest were starting to get to him. The farther they walked from the site of struggle, the more he calmed down, and the more the toll of the events began to take form as his adrenaline dissipated. The headache and muscle soreness he could deal with, but it was the cold that he was most worried about. With only the vest, and without direct sunlight to keep him warmed, he was starting to shiver. This, of course, only hurt his body more. He thought that Lillian must be cold, too, but he didn't really have anything to give her to warm her up. Holding her in his own cold arms wasn't going to be enough.

  The group walked for what seemed like forever, the raven leading the way on the branches above, flying and taking perch a few trees down every time Daveth caught up. Glop would say something every so often, whispering to the sword that he carried. Daveth lost himself to thought. For all intents and purposes, he was alone right now. With an unconscious person in his arms, and two animals th
at clearly weren't interested in having conversations. It was probably for the best, though.

  He needed a plan. Get them out of the forest. Get the princess back to the castle. It all seemed easy enough, when he thought it like that. He didn't even know if he'd be able to give her a proper return home, without his armor and the notice to his order on hand. She'd probably leave him at the gates; maybe even have him arrested for putting her life in danger. He really had managed to mess everything up. If someone else had come for her, Sir Jonathon or Sir Leopold, perhaps, then things would have probably been easier for her. One of them would have swept her off her feet and whisked her away to the castle in true knightly fashion. She'd be drinking tea and fantasizing about her hero instead of lying here in his arms, bloodied and stained with tears and dirt.

  Somewhere in his thinking, a deep voice sounded behind him. "Good job, kid," it said, and a strong hand slapped on his shoulder before he had chance to even register the voice. He whipped around; the raven cawed and flew toward him, landing on the shoulder of the burly man behind him.

  "Ragen?" he asked, relief and distrust fighting for his attention. "How did you..."

  "It's a real long story," he said, pointing off to a small clearing that Daveth hadn’t even noticed in his wandering. The raven took off, flying to it as he continued. "She doesn't look too good," he said, turning his eyes down to the Princess.

  Daveth wanted to be kind, but now that the concern for Ragen's life had passed, he wanted answers. "You were the wolf," he said, an accusation.

  "We've got a lot of ground to cover in a little time, in more ways than one. First things first, though, yeah? We gotta get her cleaned up and treated, get you something to wear so you're not walking around all naked and crap, and get some food in all of our bellies."

  "What we need to do is get to the castle. They'll be able to treat her there and then-"

  "You're thinking too big, kid. One step at a time. The castle is still three days away, not considering what we might run into on the way."

  Daveth narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, what we might run into?"

  Ragen sighed a bit and ran a hand through his short dark hair. "Listen, if you've gotta know everything, then you're never going to notice when something's important. Just trust me for now, alright?" The raven took off from the man's shoulder, flying into a small opening in the trees ahead.

  Daveth relented. Frankly, he didn't have the energy to argue right now, and he'd already proven himself in some fashion. The conversation Daveth had overheard with the fairies, though, still lingered in his mind. Without another word, he followed Ragen, who followed the bird.

  When they got to the clearing, he saw the bird neatly stacking up twigs on the ground in the center of the clearing. The sun shone down on the area through the trees above, and Daveth's skin instantly warmed when it touched him. He laid the princess down gently on the ground under the sun, near the sticks but not too close. Glop came up to him with the sword, still hugging it in his arms like a stuffed bear.

  "It needs them now?" he asked, sounding disappointed, but dutifully ready to give it up if need be.

  "You can keep it for a while if you want," Daveth replied, not really caring what the thing did with the weapon, so long as it stayed close.

  Ragen interjected, "No, rat, you're gonna help me with something. Just put it down by the kid and come with me."

  Glop and Daveth shared a look, Glop's one of fear and Daveth's one of confusion. He knew Ragen didn't like the thing, so why would he trust him to help with something? The swamp rat's eyes began to ooze that strange yellow fluid, and he gently set the weapon at Daveth's side as though the sword was a baby being put to sleep.

  "Ragen," Daveth demanded, turning his head to face him. "You owe me an explanation."

  The man sighed again. "Relentless, aren't you? That's a good quality. I promise I'll tell ya everything, after we get this all set up proper."

  "How can I trust you until then?"

  Ragen thought, his eyes fixed on Daveth's for what seemed like far longer than it should have taken to answer that question. "You can't. Just remember to always watch out for yourself, kid. Even if I gave you a good reason, hold on to that doubt. It'll save your life one day."

  "Everything," Daveth reminded him, "You will tell me everything." He wanted no details left out. Ragen nodded in response, and rushed off into the woods. His feet didn't make a sound as he left, though the sloshing sound of Glop rolling after him in his ball of goop sort of did away with his stealth factor.

  The bird remained and, once the sticks all seemed to be in a place she approved of, she cawed at Daveth and hopped back from the pile. He was still kneeling over Lillian. It felt like, if he stepped too far back, something was just going to come and swoop her away. Still, he knew he needed to get a fire going. Beneath the stacked sticks was what looked like a nest of twigs and kindling. The bird really knew its stuff, somehow. He was done questioning the things that didn't make sense to him. Well, that was, until Ragen got back.

  He set to the task of lighting the fire, and wanted nothing more afterwards than to curl up next to it and fall asleep. The thought alone made him feel useless, though, and Daveth looked around the woods to see what else he could do. While he didn't want to get too far from Lillian, they still needed food, water, clothes, and he couldn't just sit there while the other two went out to gather everything. He'd be waiting all day.

  The bird, seeming to know exactly what he was thinking, came and rested on the girl's chest. It puffed up defensively, dark feathers soaking in the warmth of the fire as it nested on her chest.

  "Thanks," he said, feeling silly talking to an animal as soon as he did. But he had already begun to question how much an animal she even was. He was certain that Ragen was the wolf. If that was true, was it possible the bird was a person, too? She hadn't spoken, though, and the wolf had. Questions he expected answers to soon.

  He decided that the best thing to do would be to get more wood for the fire: real wood, not sticks and twigs that would burn out in no time. Without anything to chop his own wood, he'd just have to hope he could find something. He didn't go far from camp, and, after about half an hour, all that he had managed to find were more sticks and twigs. He had to set his standards lower, finding smaller and smaller kindling the longer he searched. He returned with his measly armful of a few small branches, and dozens of tiny sticks.

  The bird looked like it had fallen asleep on her chest, puffed up in a big black ball. When he got closer, though, he could see the wide orange eye staring directly at him, and felt a little better that it hadn't been so careless. As he set the sticks down near the fire, he heard the rustling of branches behind him. When he turned, Glop and Ragen were walking into the clearing, both with their arms full to their chins with what looked like cloth with twigs lined with berries resting on top. The hooved feet of a large creature hung over each of Ragen's shoulder, his head ducked down slightly to keep it from falling off of his back.

  "What's all this?" Daveth asked, incredulous that they could have gotten all of that stuff in so little time.

  Ragen dropped his pile next to Daveth, shrugging one of the hooved sets of legs off of his shoulder and grabbing the other pair with both big hands. Blood trickled down his arm.

  "I always leave some supplies near my camp sites. That way I don't have to carry a bunch of junk all over the forest with me." He turned and dropped what Daveth could now see was a deer to the ground, kneeling over it with his back to the fire. Pulling a knife, he set about doing something to the deer's stomach that Daveth couldn't see, which was probably for the best. Glop hurriedly set his stack next to Ragen's, then rushed to the hunter's side and stared hungrily at their catch.

  "Not yet, rat. You get leftovers." Glops eyes lit up at the promise, and he danced in place. A disgusting glob of drool oozed from his mouth as he watched the man's every move with the meat.

  "I got some...wood," Daveth admitted. "It's not much, but I didn
't want to get too far from camp."

  "Good job, kid," Ragen said, but didn't seem to care too much about the pile. He didn't even look. "There's some clothes there for ya. They won't fit right, not until you grow into them, but it's better than walking around in your underwear."

  The young man's eyes went to the pile that Glop had dropped, assuming that was the right one. The other seemed to be mostly linens, but this one was leathers and had a belt with reinforced loops all around it. He immediately stood and started to get dressed. The pants were too long, and he had to struggle with the tight leather at the bottom to fold them up. Over that, the tunic didn't feel any looser than his armor had before, and was significantly more comfortable and easier to move in than he'd expected it to be. The boots were another matter, fitting almost perfectly to his feet. He wondered where the man could have gotten them, as his feet were gigantic.

  "It's all pretty big, but it should work," he said to himself.

  "You can always just walk around naked, if you like that better," Ragen replied with a chuckle, tossing a hunk of red bleeding meat onto the ground next to him. Glop whined with his hands over his mouth as his long black tongue licked between webbed fingers.

  "I didn't mean it like that. Thank you. I do appreciate it."

  "You could appreciate it harder by starting to set up those beds. Specifically for the girl, there. There's a thing of water in between the sheets somewhere."

  Daveth dug in the pile until he felt something hard, and wrapped his hand around what felt like cloth. When he produced the item, it was wrapped up in a cloth and rope. Untying the rope, he saw the flask inside. He opened it, and poured some water on the cloth. Looking down at Lillian, it felt like at any moment she should wake up. He'd been pretty certain that she never would, until now. Now, it felt like if he just breathed too loudly, she'd bolt out of her slumber and lecture him for putting his hands on her.