by Terry Schott
She felt strange. Like she was outside her body and watching everything unfold. She saw the bear coming, its teeth bared, eyes filled with rage, but she could no longer hear it.
What she could hear was her own voice, whispering words to a spell that she had seen cast but did not possess the skill or level to know yet. She felt her hands moving, tracing the pattern that she had watched Jielir perform so many times during training. The immense creature was closing on her fast, but she did not miss a beat.
She finished speaking the words. A tingling settled over her legs, and she revelled in a sense of accomplishment for casting a spell for the first time. Shale knew that it had worked.
The bear leapt but when it landed she was already gone, possessed by the Wolven Spirit spell and racing down the path for safety. A second later, something hit her in the face.
God it’s fast. The thought flew through her mind as her body sailed through the air. She landed and immediately pushed herself from the ground, legs pumping as hard as she could make them.
Trees that had been on the distant horizon suddenly appeared right in front of her, forcing her to dodge them like landmines. Jielir had once told them that enhanced speed through a dense forest was suicide. Reflexes could only avoid so many collisions. She put the thought out of her mind and ran. She would rather die like a bug on a windshield than by being torn to shreds by that beast.
Sounds of pursuit faded, but she continued running. Not long after that, her luck did run out. She clipped a tree with the side of her leg and flew through the air once again. She hit the ground and tried to get up but couldn’t.
Her last thought was to wonder if she had outrun the bear.
***
“Oh god.” Shale’s voice sounded weak to her ears. Everything hurt. Her arms, neck, definitely her right leg. It throbbed so bad she felt as if her entire body was bouncing off the ground in time with the pulsing. She touched the left side of her face. The skin burned and felt wet and sticky.
She looked around.
There was no bear.
A sharp pain knifed into her ribs, taking her breath away. She winced and touched her side. Likely broken, she thought. After panting lightly for a few seconds, her breath returned. Despite the tragedy of it all, she smiled. “I can’t believe I lived through that.”
“It must have been spectacular.”
Slowly, carefully, she rolled to her other side and squinted up at a man dressed in tan-coloured leather who watched her from his perch on a dead log. “Hello.”
“Hello.”
“How long have you been sitting there.”
“Awhile.” He turned and pointed to a small camp fire a few dozen feet away. “That’s where I was sleeping when you woke me up, running through the woods like the wind. And you were making a terrible noise. Sounded like a giant bear.” He raised one eyebrow. “At least, I thought it was you. Then I actually saw the giant bear on your heels.”
“I didn’t outrun it?”
The man shook his head.
“Then how am I alive? How are you alive?”
“The noise woke me up in time for me to see you catch the edge of a tree and lose your gait. Bad bit of luck, that was.”
“Could have been worse. I managed to dodge a thousand or so before I hit that one.”
“Wolven Spirit?”
She nodded.
The man whistled. “Brave.”
“Stupid.” She rolled onto her back and looked up at the trees. “Only chance I had, though.”
“I suppose. I saw you hit the tree and land where you are right now. I was already running toward you when the bear came crashing from the same direction. It was very focused on you. And pretty angry.”
“And you somehow managed to scare it away.” Shale sighed. “Talk about brave.”
“Stupid.” She could hear the smile in his tone. “Only chance you had, though.”
She turned and looked at him. “How did you manage to send it away?”
He shrugged.
“Well, whatever you did must have worked.”
“Must have.”
“You saved my life. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I haven’t saved it yet. Not completely, at least. You need to be tended to by a healer.”
Shale frowned. “I am far from home.”
“That you are, little elf.” He stood from the log and brushed his leggings. “Don’t worry. I will take you someplace where you can get the attention you need. It is close.”
“I can’t walk.”
“You won’t need to.” He clapped his hands together and whistled. There was a rustling sound from nearby.
Shale’s eyes widened as the giant bear from the night before lumbered toward her.
“Easy now.” The man’s voice was calm.
“Easy?” She scrambled into a sitting position, ignoring the pain that blossomed in her leg and side. “That thing tried to kill me.”
“It won’t now.”
Eyes wide, she looked at the man and then the bear. “How do you know that?”
“I had a talk with it. Convinced it that you were no longer a threat.”
“I was never a threat!”
The man raised one eyebrow and leaned closer to her. “Oh really? You weren’t hunting a druid and his student?”
Shale’s mouth went dry.
The man smirked and straightened. “I assured my new friend that you are no longer part of that adventure. Told him you were under my protection.” The man reached out and ruffled the bear’s fur. “It didn’t want a quarrel with me.”
Shale laughed. “You say that as if you are more dangerous than the bear.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Is that how I made it sound?” He chuckled. “At any rate, what’s past is past. He will carry you back to my home.”
She glared at the bear. The man noticed her expression and his tone flattened. “You will not attempt to harm him.”
“He killed my friends.”
“It was a fair fight. You had an opportunity to kill him as well.”
She laughed. “There was no way. Jielir put six arrows into him and it didn’t even—”
“You were with Jielir?”
She nodded.
“Did you see him die?”
“Yes.”
The man sighed. “That is sad news. He was a good elf and an excellent ranger. He will be missed.”
“Then you see why I have to get revenge.”
“I can see why you crave it, but like I said. You will not get it. The contest was fair. There are ways to kill a bear, you know, even one this large.”
Shale looked at the bear and shook her head. “Fine.”
“I mean it. If you attempt to hurt him—”
“I won’t.”
The man watched her for a moment and nodded. “I will bring you something to eat, then we can be on our way.”
47
“There it is.”
Aleron looked in the direction that Master Keaedan was pointing. The trail they followed curved out of sight. Behind the trees, smoke curled into the sky, marking their destination. “How far?”
“Half hour.”
“So close. Do you think we are safe from attack, then?”
“I think so.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t strike last night like you feared.”
The old druid grunted and shook his head. “I never feared an attack.”
“But you said—”
He puffed on his pipe. “I said last night would have been their best opportunity, not that I was afraid they would.”
“Wonder why they didn’t.”
Master Keaedan snorted. “They were busy.”
“You ambushed them?”
“I put something between us and them.”
Aleron stopped walking. “Oh god.”
The druid stopped and turned. “What?”
“That huge bear. You sicced it on them, didn’t you?”
“The
bear’s name is T’lar.” He took a long draw from his pipe and released a lungful of smoke. “And yes, I asked him to stay behind and cover us.”
Aleron frowned.
“And I might have set a bit of a distraction to put them off our scent.”
“Clever.”
“Thank you.” Master Keaedan started walking.
“Are they dead?”
“Only if they attacked the decoy camp I created. If they didn’t, then T’lar was instructed to leave them alone.”
“They likely attacked.”
“You’re right.”
Aleron shook his head. “Such a painful way to die.”
“There are worse.”
“Not many.” Aleron caught up to Master Keaedan and matched his pace.
“That’s true.”
***
The Scout outpost was surrounded by a twenty-foot-high wall built from thick logs. The path they followed led to a closed front gate. Keaedan and Aleron stopped a few dozen feet from it.
“How do we get their attention?” Aleron asked.
“We don’t. They know we’re here.” Master Keaedan dropped his pack on the ground. “They will make us wait.”
Aleron smiled and lowered his own pack. “Flexing their muscles a bit?”
Keaedan laughed and tapped the pipe against the heel of his palm. Ash drifted to the ground. “It never hurts to be reminded that there is always someone more powerful than you, even for an old druid like me. If it gives them pleasure to make me sit in the grass for a while, then I’m happy to oblige.”
“Maybe now is a good time to give me the details.”
“What details?”
Aleron sat on the grass beside the path. “We have completed our journey without you telling me anything about the Scout class.”
Master Keaedan raised one eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Mmhm.”
“Oh. Well it’s too late to tell you anything now. I suppose that your trainer will fill you in as you go.”
“Then you plan to tell them that I’m a—” he paused. “Deceiver?”
“Heavens, no.” The druid joined Aleron, adjusting his robes as he got comfortable. “Not many agree with my assessment of your kind. I will only tell them that you’re a Traveller. I imagine they will get a kick out of that.”
Aleron opened his mouth to ask why, but a horn sounded from the keep. They looked toward the gate as it swung open with a groan.
“Shortest time I’ve ever had to wait.” Keaedan stood. With a frown, he turned to look back along the trail. “Hmm. Maybe they aren’t opening it for us.”
Aleron followed his line of sight. A tall man dressed in the leather clothing of a woodsman emerged from the forest. Lumbering behind him was a giant bear with what appeared to be a passenger lying on its back.
“That’s odd,” Keaedan mumbled.
“Is that T’lar?”
He did not reply.
The tall man reached out to touch the bear and both stopped. Both were elves. The girl—an elven ranger judging from her clothing—was unconscious and strapped to the bear’s back. Her clothes were blood-spattered and her entire leg was wrapped in white bandages with a splint.
The man nodded. “Greetings, Master Druid Keaedan.”
Keaedan returned the gesture. “Greetings, Master Scout Kieran.”
The Scout glanced at Aleron. “You bring a Scout candidate for our consideration?”
“I do.” The druid eyed the giant bear, which huffed and bobbed its head up and down in a gesture resembling a nod.
The Scout patted the giant creature’s neck. “This fella is a familiar of yours, isn’t he?”
“He is.”
“Nasty creature to send after a ranger party.”
The druid raised one eyebrow. “I doubt they had anything pleasant in mind for me.”
Kieren laughed. “I expect you’re right.”
Keaedan jutted his chin toward the sleeping girl. “The other two perished?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone I knew?”
“An apprentice and Jielir.”
The hint of a smile played across the druid’s lips. “Jielir was an excellent ranger, a great foe of my people. A shame for them, but at least he died honourably.”
“That’s the way to go. In battle, surrounded by the woods that he loved.”
“I’m surprised to see that you saved the girl.”
The Scout shrugged but said nothing.
Keaedan grunted. “I suppose T’lar did not consider her a threat. Probably left her unconscious and immobile. Her leg is broken?”
“In three places.”
“I’m still surprised that you helped her. It isn’t the Scout way to get involved with elven affairs.”
“Normally I would have left her, but she is different.”
“How so?”
Kieran glanced at the sleeping girl. “Shale is a Traveller.”
Aleron gasped. “Her name is Shale?”
“That’s right.”
“Oh my god.” Aleron laughed. “That’s awesome.”
The druid arched one eyebrow. “Do you know her?”
His smile widened. “I sure hope so.”
48
The dwarven shield-maiden raised her head and gasped as bolts of pain shot through her body. When the spasm faded, she groaned and rolled onto her back, panting as a new wave of pain struck. In her mind, Janet knew that her avatar was dying. She was surprised it hadn’t already happened.
She waited a few seconds and then rolled to her side. Warm wetness soaked her cheek. The dead bodies of three comrades, limbs torn from their torsos, expressions of terror on their faces were strewn on the ground nearby. Slowly, she turned to the other side and saw more of the same. She listened for a moan, a cry, but all she heard were forest sounds.
With great effort, Janet rolled onto her belly, fresh waves of agony flowing through her. She took a deep breath and ignored the pain as best as she could, finally managing to stand.
“All dead.” Her words were slurred. There was a silver glint to her right. Curious, she moved toward it, hopping on one foot while dragging the other.
She reached the patch of ground and stopped. Black and grey stones the size of her fist were arranged side by side, each touching its neighbour, to form a circle in the thin grass before her. The stones forming the front half of the circle were visible, but disappeared under thicker brush and fallen trees where she guessed the back portion might be. Small flashes of silver light pulsed from beneath the dry, cracked earth, like there was something metallic just beneath the surface
She inched closer to the outer edge and stopped, her toes almost touching the stones. The hairs on the back of her neck and arms began to tingle. She frowned as a faint memory tugged at her, an old story told to her avatar when she was young. She tried to focus on the knowledge, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared. Janet shrugged, placed one foot inside of the circle, and then stopped, carefully pulling her injured leg up and over the stones, to avoid disturbing them.
When she was fully inside the circle, the sounds of the forest disappeared. She turned and frowned. “What the—” Her own voice sounded hollow and quieter than it should. “Magic?”
A small patch of blood had dripped from her wounds onto the ground, startling her as it steamed and hissed, as if it was touching a hot fry pan. The silver light around the blood brightened and pulsed.
She turned and a new drop hit fresh ground, making more silver light flare to life. It began to swirl and spread outward like a pool. Eventually, the entire interior of the stone circle was shining.
Janet tried to leave but her feet wouldn’t move. Fixed in place, she watched the ground in front of her open up and a column of silver light shoot into the sky.
Inside the column, the figure of a young child appeared. Janet leaned closer. A girl around ten years old with shoulder-length, straight, white, hair and pale, smooth skin stepped out of the light. She wore
a dark purple dress and fine black leather boots. The girl crossed her arms and the column of light disappeared. She watched Janet, her ice-blue eyes bright.
“Hi,” Janet said.
The girl blinked, her face devoid of emotion.
“Are you okay?”
One corner of the girl’s mouth curled upwards.
“Can I take you somewhere safe? Are your parents nearby?”
“You’re a dwarf.”
Janet nodded. “Your voice sounds pretty. Very musical.”
“Yes, it does.” Janet thought the girl’s tone sounded older than she looked. And bored. “Why did you summon me, dwarf?”
Janet shook her head. “I didn’t.”
The girl looked at the blood on Janet’s arm. She licked her lips, eyes narrowing as she sniffed the air. “You are wounded.”
“I am.”
“Are you here to seek my protection?”
Janet began to laugh, but the look in the girl’s eyes made her stop. “You’re serious? Um, no. I don’t need protection, thank you.”
“By law, I may consume you.”
Janet took a step backward and felt her heel touch stone. “By law?”
“That’s right.” The girl smiled, her eyes bright as if someone had given her a favourite toy. “Those who enter my circle of their own free will and bleed I may consume without consequence.”
Her avatar’s childhood memory came flooding back and Janet’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh no,” she whispered. “You’re a godling.”
The girl giggled. “Yes, I am, and you have woken me.”
“Wait a minute.” Janet’s mind raced. She didn’t want to be devoured by this creature that had been created hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. Lore described godlings as extremely powerful and always evil spirits. The stories that her avatar remembered matched the game lore that Janet knew. Godlings were always innocent children, sacrificed by their own villages. Buried alive, condemned to waste away in the darkness of the earth, their spirit trapped until summoned by blood to protect the land they had been imprisoned in and the people who lived on it. Janet had never levelled high enough in the PC or RPG game to face a godling, but she knew for certain that the avatar she inhabited was not strong enough to survive.
“You want me to spare you?”
