“You keep asking yourself that question,” Dariana says, the silver-haired woman taking a seat next to her friend. Her toned limbs are exposed in the white gown, but she shows no sign of being cold. “This journey was inevitable since the Snow Tiger Tribe is tied to your temple. It would seem Gabriel had you planned out rather thoroughly unlike some of our friends. If it helps, this puts you in the same category as myself and Nyx, which isn’t bad company. So relax and let events unfold as they are meant to.”
“That is fairly easy for you to say since you will not have to suffer the consequences of past mistakes,” Timoran claims before he can stop himself. Remembering the telepath’s history and lineage, the barbarian reaches out to pat her hand. “I apologize for my words. In truth, you may understand me better than the others. I am glad that you are by my side, Dariana. The same goes for Luke and Nyx because I do not know if I have the strength to face my tribe alone. I wish the others were able to travel with us. Delvin’s mind, Fizzle’s magic, and Sari’s charms would be very helpful in overcoming the trials that we will face.”
Dariana gives the barbarian a punch on the arm like she has seen him do to their friends, but his confused expression makes her blush. “I’m sorry about that. I thought it was how your people comfort each other. There’s nothing we can do about our situation. You have three powerful allies to defend you. Nyx’s magic will recover soon and you know Luke will fight to the death for all of us. I would do the same. You’re my friend, Sir Wrath, and I have too few of those to let any of them go.”
“I appreciate the concern that all of you have for me,” the barbarian states, a wide smirk appearing on his dour face. Against the ache in his chilled muscles, he looks back at Luke, who has slumped against the wall. “It is fortunate that he could join us considering the recent fight he had with his family. It was nice of Queen Ionia to let him use her scrying room for personal use, but I did not expect his father to be so . . . sensitive about his situation. Perhaps we should not have been entirely honest with them. It reminds me of my youth and how my parents wanted what was best for me. Thankfully, we agreed that I was born to be a warrior and only disagreed on minor things. I miss my parents, but take pride in them dying to protect the tribe. So the small disagreements seem even more ridiculous in retrospect.”
“I never had a childhood with my parents, so I don’t know what you mean by minor things.”
“Things such as what I would wear or eating the last of my father’s favorite food.”
“Are those typical problems?”
“It was for my family.”
“Are you scared to go back because you dishonored your parents?”
Timoran sucks in a breath as if Dariana has punched him in the stomach, his muscles visibly quivering. He slowly gets to his feet and retrieves the bottle of Ifrit mead, his head nearly touching the uneven ceiling. With one long pull, he drains the decanter and raises his arm to smash the container on the ground. He stops when he hears Nyx mumble in her sleep, the half-elf starting to roll toward the blazing fire. Timoran moves to catch the slender woman and carries her back to her original spot in the back. A shudder and several whimpers rock the channeler’s body, revealing that she is starting to have a nightmare. Unwilling to leave his friend alone, the barbarian brings Nyx to the front of the cave where he sits with her curled in his lap like a sick child. Whatever dream was plaguing the channeler has disappeared and she chuckles at the feel of Timoran’s comforting hand on her head.
“I do feel like I dishonored my parents, my tribe, and myself with my actions. Yet there was nothing I could do given the circumstances,” he explains, facing the curious telepath. Timoran’s eyes sparkle in the firelight, tears of anguish trickling out of their corners. “I cannot tell you what happened including why I must remain silent. Everything will be revealed when we arrive in Stonehelm, but I do not feel it is right to speak about my past right now. It is not that I do not trust all of you, but I am merely confused and scared of the future. This is a rather new sensation for me and it revolves around a worry that all of you will walk away when you discover what type of man I really am.”
“You’re a foolish and honorable man, Sir Wrath,” Dariana replies while putting two of her fingers to his forehead. She playfully taps on his mind with her powers, but never pushes far enough to read his thoughts. “I’ve been in there even though I don’t remember what I saw. All I know is that the Timoran we have known all this time is the real one. If anything, you are a better man than we realize. To me, you epitomize the loyalty, honor, and wisdom that every champion should aspire too. Never think that you’re anything less than that. Otherwise, I’ll have Nyx give you a talking to and then we’ll hand you over to Sari.”
“Big dummy,” Nyx mutters in her sleep. She raises her fist to gently bop Timoran on the chin. “Stop being a big dummy and share the food. I’m hungry too. Don’t make me turn you into a . . . thing.”
“I think she is slightly awake,” Timoran whispers as he prepares to place Nyx on the ground next to him. The half-elf grips his wrist and a spell locks her in place, the magic causing his mouth to go dry from fear. “Again, thank all of you for being by my side. I promise to clear my thoughts of doubt and stay true to myself. It appears that this journey is taking a toll on my nerves and mind. Perhaps things will not be as bad as I believe.”
“That’s the spirit,” Dariana replies with a grin. A curious look comes over her face and she rubs her temples with her thumbs. “Why do people say that phrase? That sounds like something one would say to point out a ghost. Maybe they mean spirits as in alcohol, which means I just suggested you get drunk. Could it be a reference to the aura or soul? There are far too many words that share the same meaning in this world. Not to mention those that have multiple meanings. It’s so hard learning these newer phrases. Many of them aren’t even new, but I never heard them until now.”
The barbarian gives the woman a small punch to her arm, the force enough to knock her off-balance. “You have a better handle on things than you believe. Just do what comes natural and we will help you along. From the look of the storm, we might be here for a while, so we will have plenty of time to work on the nuances of modern language.”
“You know we can’t stay here forever.”
“I know, but I hope to wait out the worst of the storm.”
“At least it’s only rain.”
Timoran sniffs at the air and groans in dismay. “Give it a few seconds. What you are about to see is one of the scariest natural threats that this area holds.”
The rain slows down to a trickle and the only sound is the growing howl of a gale that billows over the eastern mountains. A flood of sweltering warmth enters the cave as the arctic wind drives the summer heat toward the west. Across the region, animals hurry to find cover or gather in large groups to survive the incoming storm. Dariana can hear the creatures’ panic, but there is a sense of acceptance that this is natural and expected. She is surprised that nearly every mind is filled with a plan to survive, the animals having lived in constant awareness of what is about to occur. Before she can ask Timoran to explain the strange atmosphere, a snowflake falls in front of the cave. It drifts through the opening and evaporates in the heat before more land on the freezing ground outside. Within a minute, the rainstorm has been replaced by a blizzard that bathes the landscape in white. Drifts swiftly pile up to bury the hardy plants that have evolved to retracted their leaves and berries at the slightest touch of ice. If she did not already know that it is summer, Dariana would swear they are in winter.
“This is amazingly beautiful and scary,” she whispers. The telepath reaches out to run her hand through the two feet of snow that sits outside the cave. “It’s a good thing we found this place. I don’t know how we would have survived out there without Nyx’s magic. Will this last long?”
“It is hard to say, but we will probably have to dig our way out,” Timoran replies while adjusting Nyx in his lap. He flicks a stone into the snow,
the projectile disappearing into the white barrier. “This will use up the rain in the clouds, so we will not have to worry about storms for the rest of our journey. A day trapped in this cave while we wait for the summer heat to melt the snow is a small price to pay for safety.”
A small giggle is the only warning Timoran gets before Nyx lashes out with a burst of fire that cuts through the snow. The roaring flame is loud enough to snap Luke out of his trance, the forest tracker leaping to his feet with his sabers drawn. He joins his friends and scratches his head while trying to figure out where the blizzard came from. All of them watch as the channeler’s powerful spell arches into the distance and disappears over the silhouetted mountains. Scared that the young woman will go off again, Timoran gently places Nyx on the ground and moves to the other side of the cave. Dariana and Luke do the same as their slumbering friend appears to kick at someone and releases a bolt of lightning that sparks against the ceiling.
“Dammit, Cunningham. I’m ticklish there,” the raven-haired half-elf mutters before delivering a large smack to her imaginary companion. “Don’t make me set you on fire or zap you.”
“I did not feel like sleeping anyway,” Timoran says as he clutches his enchanted great axe and prepares to deflect any incoming spells.
*****
Nyx wipes the sweat from her brow as she maintains a heat aura to melt the piles of snow in front of her. With her magic back at full strength, she is happy to lead the way and carve a path for her friends. Even with a good night’s rest, it is exhausting work and she moves slowly to avoid harming any hidden plants and animals. Many times, the violet-eyed channeler comes close to setting a buried bush on fire or injuring a cowering rodent. A random surge of energy nearly causes Nyx to send a blistering shockwave ahead, but she swiftly turns the unexpected boost into a blast of lightning that spirals into the sky. She is a little concerned about the power spikes, but assumes that it has been so long since she has had unrestrained access to her aura that she is simply overanxious.
When Luke calls for a stop to check the muddy ground, Nyx breathes a sigh of relief and lets her spell gently fade away. The midday heat of summer beats down on her, causing the channeler to wonder how the snow has not disappeared completely. Moving to the nearest drift, she can see that it is steadily melting and worries that they will face another flood. Touching the nearest mound, a tremble of energy runs around her fingers and gives her a feeling of being at one with the natural world. Nyx is so entranced by the strange sensation and the smell of the mixing weather that she never hears her friends calling. She barely registers the hands on her back as Luke impatiently shoves her into the snow drift, the young woman falling completely under the chest high drift.
“I’m going to strangle you, little brother!” she shouts while barreling out of the snow.
Her body is shivering even though her crimson shirt is covered in a rolling fire that dries her off in a second. Nyx tries her best to catch the nimble warrior, but Luke manages to always remain a hair out of reach. He rolls his eyes as she dives and misses, the channeler landing face first in the warm mud. The muck bubbles at her blossoming rage and the patches on her skin harden before flaking off. Nyx is about to attempt another charge when she sees all of her friends yawn and rub at their bloodshot eyes. Remembering that she is the only one who got enough rest last night, she calms down and cancels her spells. The channeler calmly walks over to Luke and gives him a half-hearted smack to the side of his head.
“I said I was sorry,” Nyx says, crossing her arms and frowning. Biting her lower lip, the half-elf fiddles with her shoulder-length hair. “You guys should have woken me up if I was casting in my sleep. If you want, can create energizer spells to help with your fatigue. I think I can cast a version that doesn’t result in a crash. There might be a little danger since I keep having surges, but they shouldn’t be a threat if I concentrate.”
“Just focus on melting the snow. None of us can afford to be incapacitated,” Luke replies while returning to his crouching position. The blonde warrior runs his fingers along some indents, but the tracks have been trampled by their small scuffle. “We don’t really need to follow a path since Timoran knows where we’re going. Still, I want to keep an eye out for signs of predators. I’ve seen tracks left by wolves, bears, wyverns, trolls, and others that I can’t identify without a clearer print. This one really has me curious.”
“Do you think we really have to worry about trolls?” Dariana asks while taking a drink from her waterskin. She rubs at the clear ring on her finger when she notices that the others are staring at her. “I only mean that I’ve sensed them and they’re staying away. It would appear that Nyx’s presence has made them uninterested in us. Trolls are not nearly as stupid as people think. It doesn’t happen often, but they won’t attack something more that’s dangerous than themselves unless they are starving. Although, the trolls are staying nearby, so maybe they’re hungry enough to consider the risk.”
Nyx unleashes a blast of fire into the air and has it make a tight circle before exploding into a display of lights. With a crackling hiss, the spell drifts toward the ground and leaves sizzling holes in the snow. The faint sound of stampeding feet to the west brings a prideful smile to the channeler’s face. She runs her hand over her face to remove the expression, but the corners of her mouth continue to dimple.
“What has gotten into you?” Luke asks, approaching Nyx and putting his hands on her shoulders. He winces when her skin heats up to the point where he feels a shock of pain. “I know you’re excited to have your magic back. We’re all happy for that. It doesn’t explain why you are acting so strange and uninhibited.”
“Because Stephen is dead and the last strike he made against me is gone,” she replies, slipping out of her best friend’s grasp. She plucks a few berries off a nearby bush and pops them into her mouth, the sourness catching her by surprise. “I spent so long being scared of that bastard and angry that I couldn’t stop him. Now he’s nothing but a bitter memory. I no longer have nightmares of him doing stuff to me. Shadows aren’t hiding him anymore. I’m free of that monster.”
Ignoring Dariana’s gestures of warning, Luke mentions, “All of that is true, but I think it’s more than that. He stopped you from confessing to Delvin, which might be the real source of your outbursts. That’s entirely understandable. I’m still concerned that you’re masking your pain by being overly playful and reckless.”
“Do you really not think before you speak, my friend?” Timoran mutters as he steps between the half-elves. The shock and anger on Nyx’s face causes the large man to crouch and look into her eyes, his hand stretching back to cover the forest tracker’s mouth. “You know Luke is not always the most tactful and he did not mean to upset you. A trait I believe he learned from you, fire sprite. Please understand that he cares and is worried about your mental state. All of us are because we know what you went through to give Delvin your family’s heirloom ring and confess your feelings for him. The opportunity was taken away, which has to be frustrating and painful.”
“It wasn’t taken away!” Nyx snaps, her voice cracking. With a long exhale that fills the air with the scent of chocolate, she clears her head and tries her best to explain herself. “I know it didn’t happen. I dream of telling Delvin the truth, but I can’t dwell on it like I did before. That wastes energy and time. We’ll be together again and I’ll get another chance. Until then, I will be happy that I am alive, undamaged, and with friends who care about me. Though that doesn’t mean I won’t knock one of you out for making me mad.”
“You could just threaten Luke directly. We all know he’s the one you mean,” Dariana says with a small yawn. She wavers on her feet and stretches in an attempt to stay awake, her eyes fluttering rapidly. “How much longer do we have to travel? I’m very curious to see Stonehelm and Aintaranurh.”
“A few more days,” Timoran replies before a faint sound catches his attention. He hunkers down to check the tracks that Luke pointed out, th
e noise helping him recognize the beast that left the trampled prints. “This is unexpected. I did not know snow tigers came so far south during the summer. Perhaps the wild game has been more plentiful here than in previous years, but this is still strange. We should investigate.”
The barbarian begins digging through the snow until Nyx puts a hand on his arm and moves him back. She carefully melts the drift by creating a tight circle of heat around her body, the top layer of magic designed to warn her of hidden obstacles. Over the course of two hours, the champions veer to the west where they eventually reach an open plain of leveled snow. Straining his ears and sniffing at the gentle wind, Timoran tries to pinpoint the faint mewls that only he can hear. He gestures for the others to stay back as he scans the area for signs of his tribe’s spirit beast. Without realizing it, the barbarian reaches up to scratch his shoulder where a snow tiger’s claw mark remains emblazoned on his flesh.
Luke is about to transform into the griffin to get an aerial view, but stops when all of the spirits in his body growl. Stiletto is the loudest, the dog picking up a scent that puts his nerves on edge. The griffin is less cautious, but the stench of feline blood makes her think it is best to stay out of sight. Nearly drowned out by the more aggressive creatures, the primal snake fiend can only hiss and snarl. It is only because of Luke’s ability to understand every spoken language that he deciphers the beast’s noise as a request for food. In fact, he gets the distinct impression that the snake fiend has caught a whiff of some nearby carrion.
“My companions are acting crazy,” Luke whispers, knowing Timoran will still hear him from far away. His friend partially turns in order to pay attention while maintaining a watch on the open plain. “Lucy and Stiletto are cautious, but that might be because neither want to mess with a snow tiger. What’s more interesting is that the snake fiend senses food. Something is dead out there.”
Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) Page 3
