Connor could see the frustration in Cyrus's face reappear. He stomped over to Nico, standing over him darkly.
"We're not done yet, Nicolai. Get up." His voice was barely held in check.
"Oh, come on, Cy. It'll be midday by the time we get back. Maybe Morgan's mother will have those butter rolls ready. At least we'll get something to eat that way." He smiled up at Cyrus.
Connor watched Cyrus as the frustration on the other boy’s face slowly began to fade away.
"Aye..." he sighed.
"Great!" Nico jumped up, his long, dark hair swinging around his face, loose from the band it was pulled back into, as had all the boys.
"You three head back," Cyrus said, pointing at Nico, Alpin, and Tristan. "Connor and I will follow, see if we can catch anything on the way back that you might scare up."
"Me? Really?" asked Connor.
"Yes. We'll work on your woodcraft. I think it needs a little attention."
Connor was less than thrilled at the prospect. Tristan gave Connor a knowing grin and a nod of his head before heading off with the other two boys in the direction of their small town.
"Let's go," Cyrus said sharply. Cyrus was the oldest amongst their small group—only by a year, but it gave him an air of authority that none of the others challenged.
He trotted off to the north side of the clearing, the opposite direction. Connor took off after him.
"Why are we going this way?" he asked as they loped towards the woods.
"We'll come around the clearing from the east. It'll give us one last look for game."
Connor blew out a breath but said nothing, keeping in step with Cyrus. They reached the other side of the clearing, slowing down and entering the woods again. Connor walked beside Cyrus, focusing again on his steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. He watched Cyrus move effortlessly through the undergrowth, and he felt a small pang of jealousy.
Their clan had spent most of their history in Custos preparing themselves for an unknown goal. The stories recited in their clan gatherings spoke of a time when they would be called on for a higher purpose. They knew that the Phoenix Clan, long ago, once served the will of the Magi as protectors, and it was believed that it would be the Magi who called on them again. However, the Magi had been dispersed over a century ago. The elders continued to speak of the duty of the clan to prepare, but in the last generation or two, misgivings had begun to develop, and some questioned the reasoning behind the clan’s preparations. For now, though, those voices were still in the minority.
And so they continued to learn. Hunting, survival, combat. All these skills were taught to each new generation. And Cyrus had taken to those teachings since they were all very young. That was why he was usually the unchallenged leader of their small groups. Connor knew that Cyrus was always trying to impress the elders and prove his place—unlike many of the other young people, including Connor, who did not take as well to the teachings.
"Stop daydreaming, Connor," Cyrus said. "I could've heard you a mile away!"
Connor immediately focused on his feet once again, placing his feet deliberately as they went along.
"If you didn't think about being quiet so much, you'd probably make less noise," Cyrus said, his voice calmer now. "Try just stepping lightly. Don't worry about where your feet are going. Just focus on where you're going and doing it quietly; your feet will do the rest."
Connor nodded and tried to do as Cyrus directed. He focused on a small rock a hundred feet or so ahead of him. He kept the thought of light feet in his mind, but did his best not to look down at them. Cyrus had stopped to watch his progress. In a minute, Connor had reached the rock, making almost no sound. He stepped onto the rock carefully, smiling to himself, and looked back at Cyrus. Cyrus nodded his approval.
"Not bad," he said. "See, you're not as graceless as you might think."
"Thanks."
Cyrus came up onto the rock with him, surveying the forest around them.
"Still nothing," Cyrus said, disappointed.
Suddenly they heard a distant yell coming from the south, the direction the other boys had gone. The yell was followed by a loud roar. Something big had found them.
Cyrus was off the rock and running at full speed immediately. Connor was only a few steps behind him, crashing through the brush. They passed into the clearing within a few minutes, allowing them to pick up their speed. Cyrus began to outpace Connor, but he did his best to keep up, his legs working furiously. Another yell went up as they flew into the woods again. Connor could not tell whether the cry was from fear or pain, but it was loud, and they were getting closer.
Their pace was hampered by the dense undergrowth, and Connor was able to catch up to Cyrus. They could hear a commotion coming from a cluster of trees in front of them. Cyrus nocked an arrow to his bow and nodded down at Connor's bow. Connor did the same.
The roar came again, sounding from the cluster of trees. Bursting from the brush came the three other boys.
"Run!" shouted Tristan, passing Connor and Cyrus.
They hesitated a moment and a giant bear came crashing through the brush behind the other boys. It roared as it came through, daring anyone to challenge it. Sharp teeth and black claws came clambering toward them. Connor pulled his bow up, ready to fire, thinking Cyrus would do the same. But Cyrus took off after the other boys.
As he watched, a giant trunk of a leg slammed into him, tossing him several feet into the base of a tree. He slumped to the ground, stunned. The bear stopped for a moment, as though considering the best course of action. Connor shook his head clear; he could feel the bruises on his front and back, sharp pangs, and he did his best to ignore them. The bear then turned toward him, making its choice.
He spun, wincing at the pain, and grabbed onto a low hanging branch behind him. With a jerk, he pulled himself up onto the thick branch and jumped to grab onto the next one above him. He was just able to swing his legs up as the bear took a swipe at him from the ground. It roared in anger, swatting ineffectually at the lower branches.
Connor hung from the higher branch, fear pounding through him with the pain. He turned his head upside down to look at the bear. The great creature pulled itself up onto the trunk, standing on its hind legs, swinging for Connor. The pain in Connor's back screamed at him, begging him to let go of the branch. But he knew he couldn't. He struggled against the branch, pulling himself over to the top of it.
Another roar shook the branch that Connor clung to. His heart felt as though it was going to burst from his chest.
His bow lay on the forest floor, a few feet from the tree, knocked loose. He had no other weapons.
Trying to calm himself, he raised his head to look around the forest. Maybe the other boys would come back, seeing that the bear was no longer chasing them. Scraping sounds brought Connor's attention back to the base of the tree. The bear was trying to pull its great weight up the tree toward him. Its giant claws dug into the bark as it tried to climb.
Connor looked around him and realized there were no other branches above him that would support his weight and all the other trees were too far apart to risk a jump. He clung desperately to the branch he was on, hoping that the bear would not be able to get any closer.
The bear reached the first branch Connor had grabbed, clawing at it. As it shifted its weight onto the branch, Connor heard a cracking sound, and the branch snapped off the tree, taking the bear with it. The bear landed hard on the forest floor. Shaking itself from the short fall, it looked up at Connor, roaring angrily.
Then Connor heard another roar, this one from a human voice. He tried to turn his head to see and could just make out two of the boys running back toward his tree, yelling as loud as they could. One was Cyrus, his father's longsword drawn and swinging through the air wildly. The other was Tristan.
The bear turned to face this new threat, rising up to its full height, towering over the approaching boys. They slowed in their approach, their initial goal achieved; now they
had no idea what to do next.
Cyrus held the sword in a guard position, watching the bear's movements. Tristan nocked an arrow to his bow, and drew, raising his hand to his cheek. Connor watched the arrow strike the bear in its shoulder. The bear roared in pain as it dropped to all fours. But Connor could see that the arrow had done nothing but make the bear angrier.
The bear took two great steps forward, not charging, but testing the response. Cyrus stepped backwards, and as he did, he lost his footing, the sword flying from his hands. Tristan tried to nock another arrow, but it fumbled from his fingers.
Connor knew he had to do something. But what? His heart pounded, fear paralyzed him.
The bear took another step forward as Cyrus floundered, trying to regain his feet.
That was when Connor felt it. Something surge down his spine. His paralysis broke, and he felt an energy in his arms and hands. An odd, blue tinge filled his hands, and with it a warmth that pushed the fear aside. He wished for a weapon, something he could use to help his friends, and as that thought coalesced in his mind, the blue light in his hands morphed into what looked like a sword.
The bear rose up, ready to crush Cyrus and Tristan.
Without thinking, Connor launched himself from the tree, his pain and fear forgotten. The blue light in his hands guided him toward the bear like a stinger. With a yell, he slammed into the bear’s back, knocking it off its hind legs.
Cyrus rolled away from the encounter, finally regaining his feet. Tristan stood stunned, and the bear was still. Slowly, Connor pushed himself off from the bear's unmoving body. There was a thin layer of blood where his hands had struck, but the blue light was gone. He fell off the body and scrambled backwards, not sure that the threat was really gone.
"What did you do?!" asked Cyrus, looking from the bear to Connor.
"I...I don't know."
"Is...is it dead?" asked Tristan.
Cyrus approached the bear slowly, fearing that it might suddenly strike out. Nothing happened.
"I think so." His eyes looked at the other two boys, wide and unbelieving.
"What in the world was that?" Tristan said as he turned toward Connor.
Connor just shook his head. "I really don't know. I just, just had to do something."
"So you jumped out of a tree and killed a bear with your bare hands! That's something alright!" Tristan laughed uncomfortably, breaking the tension.
Connor chuckled. The strange feeling that had accompanied the blue light was gone, leaving only the remnants of his fear and adrenaline.
"Maybe it's not dead, just...unconscious," Connor said.
"Looks dead to me," said Cyrus, feeling more confident as he pushed his foot against the bear's body hesitantly. There was a sudden twitch of the bear's front leg. Cyrus jumped backwards instantly, screaming in his fright.
"Maybe not, but how about we don't wait around to find out. Let's get back. No one's going to believe us." Tristan chuckled nervously, helping Connor up from the ground and ushering them all away from the prone bear.
They moved off to the south. Within a few minutes, they came upon Alpin and Nico, heading back their direction.
"We thought that beast got you three," Nico said, his relief at seeing them obvious.
"What happened?" asked Alpin.
Tristan excitedly began telling the story. As they walked back, Alpin and Nico asked him to repeat it several times, laughing, trying to overcome the lingering fear. They began calling Connor the Bear-Slayer, and Connor just brushed their comments aside, not wanting the attention. The boys continued their talk, regardless of his response. All except Cyrus, who watched Connor awkwardly as they returned to their town.
The wooden walls of Custos rose up in front of the boys as they came out of the forest. It was just past midday, and they were all still riding high on the adrenaline from their mad encounter with the bear. Tristan had perfected his telling of the story over many passes as they had made their way home. Alpin and Nico agreed that the tale needed to be told at the gathering, in front of their entire clan. Connor had his own reservations, and Cyrus had been uncommonly quiet during their return trek.
As they entered the northern gates, the familiar sights and smells of Custos met them. A fresh, yeasty smell told them that Nico's prediction had been right and that the butter rolls were ready from Morgan's mother. Cyrus's father, the weapon-master, was tinkering away at one of his stone wheels, working on one of the many weapons that hung on his porch. A group of children ran through the dust of the street, chasing after a series of small balls.
As they passed the five boys, Alpin stepped out, catching one of the balls deftly with his foot. The children cried out, yelling for him to return it. He smiled, kicking the ball into the air, switching it to his other foot, and then back again. With a quick movement, the ball flew from his foot into the air, landing behind the group of children, causing a resurgence of their stampede, this time away from the group.
"We should go see Demetri," said Nico.
"The elder? You can't be serious?" asked Connor.
"Of course. I'm sure he'll let Tristan tell his story at the gathering tonight. He's got it down to a fine tale now. One for the histories!" Nico laughed, swatting Tristan on the shoulder.
"I don't think we need to go to Demetri," said Cyrus.
"C'mon," pleaded Nico. "We're already coming back empty-handed. The least we could do is offer up a good story."
"What does the hero of the tale think?" asked Tristan, smiling at Connor.
Connor had been lost in his own thoughts, still reflecting on the events of the morning. "What? Oh, I don't care... I think I'm going to head home."
The others looked at him questioningly. Then Nico sprinted off toward the center of town, where Demetri's house was. "You heard it! Let's go!"
Alpin quickly followed. Tristan took a couple of steps in their direction, but then he turned back to Connor.
"You alright?" he asked, genuine concern reflected on his excited face.
"Yeah."
"Alright... I'll come by and let you know what Demetri says."
Connor nodded as Tristan took off after Nico and Alpin. Cyrus was the only one left now. He studied Connor, probing for something. He had been watching Connor since the incident with the bear. Connor could not figure out what he wanted.
Is he embarrassed that it was me that stopped the bear and not him? he thought.
"What really happened?" asked Cyrus suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, one second you were scrambling in that tree, fearing for your life. Then, all of a sudden, you were jumping out of the tree like a crazed lunatic, ready for blood. I've never seen you like that. Ever."
"I... I told you," Connor stuttered, "I don't...don't know what happened. I just had to do something." Then he felt a tinge of anger. "I did save your life, you know? That bear was right on top of you!"
Cyrus's eyes narrowed. "That you did."
And with that he walked off, waving to his father. Connor tried to put the conversation out of his mind and walked down the street toward his own house. He had not felt any more of the odd surge since they had left the bear, and he still had no idea where the sensation had come from. Whatever it had been, the feeling had consumed his entire body, giving him courage he did not know he possessed. Cyrus was right to question his actions; Connor was questioning his own actions.
Upon reaching his house, he walked into the small out-room, unstringing his bow and hanging it on the wall. There was a sweet smell lingering in the outer room, drifting in from the small kitchen. He took a deep breath and walked into the house. His mother sat near the cookplate, watching both the fire beneath it and the pot on top of it carefully. Her auburn hair hung just past her shoulders and was pulled back neatly from her face by a simple leather band. She turned as he entered, a smile stretching across her face.
"Connor! I didn't expect you back until tonight. Why home so soon? Is everything alright? Nobody got h
urt, did they?” She paused to study him carefully. “Are you hurt?" she asked.
Connor raised his hands to ward off her concerned questions. “No. Everyone’s fine. Just unsuccessful.”
She raised an eyebrow.
"It's kind of a long story."
"Can't be that long. You were only gone for the morning."
Connor shrugged dismissively, making his way past her to his own small room in the back of the house. His mother's voice stopped him.
"That's all I get? It's a long story. No, my young hunter. I need more than that. There's too much going on today for that tidbit to suffice."
He stopped, turning toward her. He just wanted to go to his room and be alone with his thoughts for a while. Whatever had happened in the forest scared him. He could not explain it, either to himself or the others—and that worried him. But her last comment sparked his curiosity.
"What's going on?"
"No, sir. Not until I get my story first..."
"Fine," Connor said, grabbing a chair opposite his mother as she worked at the stove. With little detail, he told his mother about what happened with the bear, strategically leaving out the part with the blue light.
"You jumped on a bear from a tree?" Her eyes betrayed her disbelief.
"I know. I don't know why I did it either."
"How? Why? That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. Have you lost your mind? You could have been killed! Probably should have been. Foolish boy!"
She moved toward him, her pot forgotten. "Are you sure you're alright?" Reaching him, she began to inspect him: hands, arms, head.
He brushed her ministrations off. "Yes, mother, I'm fine."
"Did you kill it?" she asked.
"I don't know. It wasn't really moving when we left. I might have just knocked it out. We didn't want to wait around to find out."
"By the Three," she whispered under her breath. "And now they're going to tell Demetri about this?"
Connor nodded.
"Well, that should make tonight even more interesting. We've already got the stranger today. Now this..." Her voice trailed off.
Bones of the Earth Page 10
