“Then why did you kill Puj?” Fist asked.
“No! Not me! It was Beard,” Glug swore, his face white with fear and loss of blood. “I killed you, but he killed her! I telled him not to!”
“Then why did he do it?” Fist demanded. He swung back his mace. “Why!”
The ogre cowered, raising his arms over his head. “Sh-she fighted us! Puj scratched Beard. Hitted Beard.” He raised his arm to show Fist a wicked set of teeth marks. “She bited me!”
“So you choked her!” Fist shouted.
“No! It was Beard!”
Fist’s hand tightened on the handle of his mace. Glug was probably telling the truth, but Fist couldn’t forget the way Puj had tried to rub away the bruises on her arms. Bruises that Glug had given her.
Maryanne walked past Fist and crouched next to the Glug’s injured leg. She examined the metal mechanism. “It’s a trap for bears. Probably left by a human.”
“Yes.” He had seen such traps before. Fist cocked his head at her. Why was she bringing that up?
“This is a good spot for a trap like this,” the gnome said, looking around. “Smart placement. Along the animal trail and by the stream.”
“It will not come off!” whimpered Glug.
“Squirrel tricked him,” Fist said. He was sure of it. That was why Squirrel had been hopping around on the rocks and letting them see him. “He must have seen the trap and led Glug onto it.”
“It was effective,” she said appreciatively. “This thing’s got him cut down to the bone. Sheared right through his tendons.”
“It hurts!” the ogre agreed.
Maryanne pulled one of her knives. She looked up at Fist. “You want me to take care of this?”
Fist understood now. She was offering him a way to back out. “No. I will do it.”
“Y-you will fix my leg, ghost of Fist? With your magics?” Glug said hopefully. Then he saw Fist swing his mace back and his eyes widened. “No! I will go back to Crag. I will be a good Thunder People now!”
“No you won’t.” Fist swung his mace with all the strength and speed he could muster. The ridged side of the mace struck Glug between the eyes, crushing the ogre’s head against the rock behind him.
Fist wiped the head of his mace off on the ogre’s furs before putting the weapon away. It had not been an honorable way to kill Glug, but it had been necessary. The bite mark on the ogre’s forearm had proved it. If he would fight Puj, he would fight other women.
“It had to be done,” Maryanne agreed, standing up and putting her knife away.
“I know,” Fist replied. “One more.”
He turned and followed the stream into the cliff face. The passage was narrow, but passable. Later in the spring, when the snow in the peaks had melted, the stream would be a torrent, gushing from the fissure. For now the water was little more than a trickle and was covered with a thin sheet of ice. Fist could see where Beard had broken the ice on his way through.
Fist reached through the bond and saw Beard hadn’t stopped after leaving his friend behind. He was still traveling to the north. Squirrel, Glug is dead.
Good, Squirrel replied, but Fist didn’t sense any satisfaction in the creature’s thoughts. Squirrel was scampering along behind Beard, watching as the ogre, breathing heavily and gripping his side, hurried up a twisting trail.
Glug was the one that tried to kill me, Fist added.
I saw it, Squirrel replied.
You did a good job, trapping Glug like that, Fist said. It was smart.
He was stupid, Squirrel said. The part of the mountainside he was in was covered in pine trees. Beard rested against one of them to catch his breath before moving on.
Fist chewed his lip. We are coming. Leave Beard to me.
No, Squirrel said. I do it!
Why? Fist said in frustration.
I saw, Squirrel said and Fist caught a flash of memories; Puj fighting the ogres; Puj yelling Fist’s name; Squirrel jumping on Beard and being swatted away; Squirrel in a panic, unable to do anything while Beard strangled her.
The intensity of the memories caused Fist to stumble. He caught the wall of the fissure to steady himself. It’s not your fault. They were too big. They are ogres and you are a-.
I am not a squirrel anymore, Squirrel said and shut off the connection.
Chapter Nineteen
The stream bed sloped upwards, growing gradually steeper with each step. It was a particularly hard climb towards the end. Maryanne managed it quite easily, but Fist struggled. The weight of the shield on his back dragged on him. His body had been through a lot in the last day and his muscles trembled with exertion. By the time he reached the top, his vision swam.
Fist and Maryanne exited the fissure and found themselves looking up at yet another ridge. The mountainside ahead was covered in pine trees. Fist could see the narrow trail twisting through them. He slumped to the ground, breathing heavily.
“That’s,” he gasped, pointing westward to the top of the incline. “That’s where Squirrel and Beard were.”
“When?” Maryanne asked, peering up at the ridge. She raised her hand to her brow, shading her eyes from the low-hanging sun.
“Just after we left Glug,” Fist said. His head throbbed with every heartbeat. It was all he could do to sit up straight.
“When we were at the bottom of the chasm?” The gnome swore. “Somehow he managed to gain ground on us. Where are they now?”
Fist closed his eyes and concentrated, still breathing heavy. “On the other side. Squirrel’s . . . chasing him. Trying to make him tired. I don’t know why, but Beard’s . . . scared of him.”
“Smart Squirrel. Beard must see him and think we’re right behind him,” Maryanne said. She crouched next to Fist. “You alright?”
“Tired,” Fist said. “My head hurts.”
“Here,” she said. The gnome reached into a pouch at her waist and pulled out another piece of dried meat like she had given him that morning.
Fist took it from her. “That spicy stuff? What is it?”
“Kyrkon’s special trail rations,” she said. “It’s pure life magic. All grown in the Pruball homeland. The meat’s from pigs raised on only elven apples and grain. The spices are from Kyrkon’s own garden. That little piece right there will make wounds heal faster and give you enough energy to last a day.” Maryanne shrugged and added, “That is, if you haven’t been healed from major injuries twice in one day.”
“Thanks,” Fist said. He put the meat in his mouth and chewed. Once again, his mouth was on fire. “Hot!”
She laughed and nodded. “That’s an elf thing. Kyrkon’s crazy for it. Him and old Bill have contests to see who can make their food spicier. If it wasn’t for Sarine’s cooking, I think I’d go crazy. She’s old and can’t take the heat like they can.”
Maryanne watched Fist grimace and chew with a slight smile on her face. She reached out and ruffled Fist’s hair. “You know it’s amazing you’re alive right now after what that ogre did to you.”
Fist swallowed and sucked the cold mountain air in over his tongue. “I had Locksher nearby.”
“No. You don’t understand. I was the one who pulled the rock off you. The side of your head was smashed in. You were so far gone that when Squirrel brought Locksher over, the little guy could barely walk straight. I thought the wizard was gonna say it was too late,” she shook her head. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries healed up in different ways and I tell you, that man worked a miracle bringing you back.”
Fist winced. He had been pretty rude to Locksher when he woke up. “I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.” The food was working already. He felt energy flooding his limbs and his headache had faded to a dull throb. He stood. “We need to keep going.”
The trail ahead was a steep one. Fist couldn’t understand how Beard had managed it with broken ribs. By the time they reached the top, the sun had dipped behind the mountain.
The air grew colder and the wind picked up. The pink suns
et sky darkened quickly as a bank of clouds rolled in. They pressed on, heading down the other side until it was so dark Fist could barely see the trail. He nearly tripped on a tree root and had to stop.
“How is your night vision?” Fist asked. “Gnomes see good in the dark, right?”
“I’m not a cat,” Maryanne replied. “Who taught you that? It’s imps that see good in the dark.”
“Oh. Sorry,” Fist said. “I could make us a light with my magic. But Beard would be able to see us coming,”
“Where’s he at now?” she wondered.
“They’re just as far away as before,” Fist said. Beard had already stumbled several times in the dark. Squirrel kept getting close to him and chattering, trying to startle the ogre and make him fall. Now the ogre had put his back to a tree and had a branch in his hand, ready to swing if Squirrel got too close. “But he has stopped moving.”
“What do we do then, Fist? Do we keep going or do we wait out the night and see if we can catch him in the morning?” she asked.
Fist thought about it. He hated to draw this out any longer than he had to, but continuing on in this terrain without light could be dangerous. He could heal Maryanne if she got hurt, but he couldn’t heal himself. He sighed. “We can wait. But I don’t want to risk a fire.”
A stiff cold breeze kicked up, causing Maryanne to shiver. “Let’s find someplace out of the wind then.”
That was easier said than done with the light as far gone as it was, but they got lucky. Not far off of the trail was a place to shelter in. Maryanne called it a cave, though it was actually just a crack in the mountainside that was mostly covered by a huge fallen rock.
The gnome slipped inside first to make sure it was big enough and that it was unoccupied. Moments later, she ducked her head out. “It’s good in here.”
Fist was barely able to squeeze his large frame through the crack. He had to take his shield off of his back so that he would fit, but once inside, the space was a bit better. He wasn’t able to stand up all the way but there was just enough room for both of them to sit.
Fist leaned his shield against the entrance to help keep out more of the wind. Then he scooted up against the rear wall and sat cross-legged, letting the bottom of his winter robes pool out around him. It wasn’t all that uncomfortable. The wall even sloped a bit, allowing him to lean back.
Maryanne sat across from him, her back against the opposite wall, her feet barely touching his knees. They were now out of the wind, but the air was still icy cold. Fist pulled up his hood. The magic of the robes was a fantastic insulator and he was quite comfortable.
Fist closed his eyes and prepared to contact Justan, when he heard a soft rattling sound. It took Fist a moment to identify its source and then he realized that it was the sound of Maryanne’s teeth chattering. “Are you still cold?”
“I figured we’d be back with the others by now,” she said. “My armor keeps me pretty warm when I’m moving around, but now that I’m sitting still . . .”
“My robes are runed to keep out the cold,” Fist said. “They are big enough for you to share with me.”
“Why Fist! Are you asking me to come over there and snuggle?” Maryanne asked, her voice filled with sly amusement.
Fist’s cheeks reddened. Things had seemed so normal between them that he had all but forgotten that she liked him. “I-I can take it off and you can use it.”
“No. Then you would be cold,” she said with a chuckle. “I was just having a little fun with you. Of course I would like to share with you.”
Fist laughed nervously and unbuckled the harnesses he wore over his robes. He set his mace to the side and opened the front of his robe so that she could slide in next to him.
The gnome scooted in close, but paused. “Your breastplate is cold.”
“Oh,” Fist said. He had forgotten that Bettie’s magic that kept the armor from getting too hot or cold only applied to the inside. He unbuckled that as well, and set it to the side.
Maryanne slid in front of him and leaned back against his chest, her legs drawn up in front of her. Fist drew the robe closed around them. It just fit.
She reached up and placed a cold hand against the side of his face. A shudder passed through her slim body. “My you are warm.”
“You’re just really cold,” he said, fighting back a gasp at her icy touch.
She leaned her head back and rested her cheek against the side of his neck. Her face was really cold too. “You’re nervous having me this close to you.”
Fist had no idea how to react to the bluntness of that statement. “I . . . just don’t know you all that well.”
“No. You’ve gotten to know me pretty well over the last couple weeks,” she said. “I think you just don’t know how to act around women.”
“I do too,” Fist said defensively. “I’ve been around lots of women,”
“You were nervous around Puj too,” Maryanne pointed out.
“She was an ogress,” he replied. “She was part of something I didn’t want to be a part of. I mean, she expected things and I didn’t want her to have the wrong idea.”
“I noticed that the two of you had gotten pretty close last night,” the gnome said.
“Well that . . . nothing happened,” Fist felt his heart lurch as he once again remembered how nice it had felt to be held by her, to be kissed by her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I had a talk with her the other day,” Maryanne said. “Puj came right up to me and offered to share you with me.” Fist choked and Maryanne chuckled. “I’m serious. She offered me a deal. We would take turns. Switch off every other day.”
Fist sputtered. “Do you see what I mean? That’s why I didn’t want to put her in my tribe. She expected me to act like any other ogre. I tried to explain it to her, but she just couldn’t understand! We were too different.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” the gnome replied. “I think Puj would’ve understood your ways eventually. Yesterday, when she asked me to help her make you stew, she told me that she liked you. Do you want to know why?”
Fist sighed, pretty sure what she was going to say. “She thought I had a strong butt?”
“Well . . . she did mention that and I had to agree with her,” Maryanne admitted. “But last night, she told me that the reason she liked you was because you were better than the other ogres. ‘Gooder’ is how she put it. It took her awhile to come to understand that, but she did.”
Fist’s lip quivered. He tried to swallow back the knot that swelled in his throat. Tears came unbidden to his eyes. “This is all my fault. She would still be alive if I had been smarter about this.”
“Oh, you sweet man,” Maryanne said, placing her hand against his face again. Her touch wasn’t cold anymore. She looked up at him even though she couldn’t make out his features in the dark. “Stop blaming yourself. You couldn’t have known what would happen. This isn’t on you. This is on Beard. And that’s why we are going to hunt him down.”
Fist nodded in thanks and she removed her hand. He really wanted to speak with Justan right then. He cleared his throat. “I guess we should talk to our bonding wizards, let them know what happened.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed. “Sarine is going to be horrified by what happened.”
“Good luck,” Fist said. He closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching through the bond. It didn’t take long. Justan was waiting.
Fist, are you alright? I’ve felt like something was wrong ever since I woke up this morning. I’ve tried to reach you several times.
Sorry, Fist said. It felt good to know that Justan had somehow been aware that Fist needed him. It’s been a bad day.
Fist told Justan what had happened, starting with the day before and his battle with Beard. He then told him about Puj’s death. He knew that Deathclaw and Gwyrtha were listening in because he felt their shock and dismay.
Poor girl, said Gwyrtha sadly.
Fist, I’m so sorry,
Justan said. I wish I could have been there with you.
What happened to the ogres that attacked you? asked Deathclaw. Did you kill them?
They ran away, he said. Me and Maryanne have been chasing them down. We caught up with one, but Beard is still alive. Squirrel is watching him.
Are you okay, Fist? Gwyrtha asked.
I will be fine, Fist said. I’m just tired. So many healings and so little sleep with all those dreams I’ve been having. I have little energy.
Take mine, suggested Gwyrtha.
It took Fist a moment to figure out what she meant. Oh! Thank you, Gwyrtha. But can you do that from way over there?
Justan can, she said enthusiastically. Justan was usually able to transfer some of the rogue horse’s energy to the rest of his bonded when they needed it, but they hadn’t tried it from long distance like this.
Well, it’s a good idea, Justan said. We won’t know unless we try.
The long miles between them stretched the bond so thin that only a small amount of their thoughts were able to pass through. This limited what they could do. Things like healing were all but impossible. Master Coal had taught them that there was nothing that could be done about it, but Fist and Justan bent their wills on widening that connection anyway. The both pushed and at first it seemed as if the wizard had been right. Their efforts made very little difference until Gwyrtha threw the weight of her power behind them.
The bond widened dramatically. Justan was able to slide a large portion of his consciousness through. Not as much as he was able to do when Fist was close by, but enough that he was able to see the traces of the magic that had healed the ogre. Fist could feel his surprise. Locksher did this? Wow. I had no idea he was that good. That was some extensive damage.
Maryanne told me that too, Fist said.
I think I might be able to strengthen the work he did with Gwyrtha’s energy. Justan fed a trickle of power through the bond and Fist felt the last vestiges of his headache fade. His exhaustion melted away. You know, with a repair as extensive as this, Matron Guernfeldt would have made you stay in the infirmary for a week to recuperate before letting you . . . Fist, you’re holding a girl. Justan said in surprise.
The Ogre Apprentice Page 33
