Fireclaws - Search for the Golden

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Fireclaws - Search for the Golden Page 9

by T. Michael Ford


  He was stirring slightly, but his face had taken on a feverish sheen. A quick glide of my hand over his disheveled forehead confirmed he was burning up. I thought back to the few books I had read on the subject. A fever in humans was the body’s way of fighting off infection. It didn’t seem possible that a full-blown infection had already taken hold of Kerrik in the short time since he was wounded, so I theorized that my healings must have accelerated all the processes.

  Reviewing the situation, I desperately needed to get back to Andea, Daffi, and Naurakka; they were probably already worried. But at the same time, both Kerrik and I needed food, and I was unsure if it was safe to move him until his fever broke. Sighing, I lit the small stove in the farmhouse kitchen and started peeling potatoes.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Kerrik

  Waking up was unexpected, especially since my world was still totally dark and I could have been dead and buried for all I knew. Then I realized I was only in a room that was pitch black. Eventually, my eyes adjusted slightly and I could make out a soft glow emanating from glowing embers cached in the bottom of a hearth stove across the room.

  “Excellent, you’re awake,” a voice purred and I instantly recognized Ryliss’ precise diction. I heard her move next to me and I took a tentative deep breath, surprised at the clean woodsy scent that clung to her. She leaned over me and stuffed some cloth under my head and shoulders. Then I heard her pick up a dish and spoon and start stirring it slowly. “It needs bacon,” Ryliss said wistfully. “But no matter, I need to get as much of this down you as possible.” Taking a large spoonful, she pressed it against my lips.

  “I’m not an infant,” I croaked and tried to sit up. She pushed me back down with a surprisingly strong hand.

  “No, but you’re as weak as one. Now, are you going to let me feed you or not?”

  “Where am I and why is it so dark in here?” Further remarks were cut off by the spoon finding an opening between my lips.

  Ryliss sighed. “You are in a farmhouse recently abandoned by your former cellmates. I am trying to patch you up enough to travel so we can meet up with your sister, who is undoubtedly concerned by now. Additionally, pursuit by the wizard’s men is probable, so we cannot tarry here long, Master Bard.”

  “How did you escape from the castle and how did you find me out here? The others decided I was done for and left me behind.”

  The girl pointedly said nothing but continued to shovel spoonfuls of the warm potato soup into me. I still couldn’t see her; she was just a dark form looming protectively over me.

  “Ok,” I said, “if you don’t want to talk about that, can you at least please tell me if I am going to lose the leg?”

  Ryliss gasped, and it sounded like she almost dropped the soup. I felt a cool hand brush some of the sweaty hair off my face and she whispered, “Of course you’re not going to lose your leg.” She firmly grasped my hand and directed it down to the spot on my thigh where the bolt had scored…and there was nothing! No hole, no festering bandage, just smooth skin! Granted, it was muscle sore and feeling pretty bruised, but it was whole.

  “How? Are you a healer as well as a disguise artist and swordswoman?”

  “None of those, I’m afraid,” she chuckled softly, setting the bowl aside. I strained to see her face, but there was still no light. “Now, we need to get you up and moving.”

  I could have listened to her voice all night. Without the visual effects of seeing her disguise as a young farm girl, my unconscious mind was starting to draw a very different picture of my savior. It was a puzzle.

  She helped me swing my legs over the side of the table, but just as I was about to put all my weight on my own feet, I felt her stiffen and freeze. Ryliss stood stock still for a few seconds, and then said something in a musical language that I didn’t understand, but if I had to guess from her vehement reaction, was swearing of some type. Instantly, her demeanor changed from kindly caregiver to tactician.

  “Kerrik, we have to leave right now!”

  “Well, you’ll have to lead, I can’t see a thing.”

  “Can you fly?” she asked, brushing off my attempt at humor.

  “What? In the house?”

  “No outside. Can you use your fly spell?” she growled, dragging me along by the arm. For some reason, my boots felt different.

  “I don’t think so, still pretty weak.”

  “How about the observation spell?”

  “Maybe for five minutes or so…not much longer.”

  “It will have to suffice,” she muttered, finally kicking open the door and taking me across the threshold. Once out into the yard, she stooped down and picked up something. Outside, there was more ambient light from the stars and from Ivion, one of our dimmer moons, which had risen to quarter height in the night sky.

  “Hey, are those my pants?” I questioned, as I was finally able to see her for the first time. She still appeared as the farm girl I initially met in the tavern, and I watched as she deftly drew her boot knife and sliced the bloody garment in half.

  “Yes, did you want them back or something?” she spat, concentrating on her task. “They’re a stinking bloody mess…all of your clothes were.”

  I looked down in disbelief and saw I was wearing clothes I didn’t recognize. “Wait just a minute…”

  “No time,” she said in a near panic as she dragged the pants parts in one hand and me in the other. Around the back of the house loomed a small barn. Once we made it to the main door, she left me for a second and darted inside, returning immediately with a length of soft rope.

  “What are you doing, Ryliss?”

  “Buying us some time, hopefully!” In a few seconds, she had divided and cut the rope into thirds and tied one of the sections to each half of the sundered bloody pants. The last piece she wrapped and tied around my chest, exactly as she had done earlier at Verledn’s castle. I watched her work with interest, especially when she went back inside the barn and returned with two shaggy donkeys. As she brought them out, she rubbed their ears and mumbled things I couldn’t understand, finally giving each an affectionate pat on the neck. The two beasts rose up their heads adoringly and almost seemed to nod gratefully at her ministrations.

  Ryliss bent down to retrieve the rope ends tied to the pants and gently placed the other end in each of their mouths. Immediately, the two animals tore off in opposite directions, each dragging blood-caked pants parts behind them. In a few seconds, they were completely gone from both my miserable human sight and hearing.

  Watching this, I just shook my head in wonder, but now without the distraction, my ears were picking up something faint and repetitious in the distance.

  “Hounds, and perhaps not natural ones either from the sound,” Ryliss confirmed, putting both hands on my shoulders and looking me squarely in the eye. “Now, you are going to do the observation spell again, no passengers; you know the drill. The eagle will take you as far as the spell will allow. You’ll want to put down on a rock or the edge of water, something that won’t hold scent well…” She stopped and looked fearfully in the direction of what was now clearly baying hounds rapidly approaching. “Kerrik, can you ride a horse?”

  “What? Yes, but how did we get from landing on a rock to riding a horse?”

  “That’s not important right now, just be ready to get on a horse once you’ve landed. Just hang on to it and don’t let go; it will know where to go. Now cast your spell!”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Ryliss

  Kerrik floated quickly up into the night sky while I ducked around the barn and took the shape of the eagle. Thrusting myself up into the air, it only took a couple determined beats of my wings to catch up. From a couple hundred feet in the air, I could clearly see three long strings of torches snaking their way in our direction less than a mile away. The raucous song of the hound pack reached even this high up in the air. By my calculation, there must have been thirty or more hunters approaching. As I swooped in, I could s
ee Kerrik watching them with some interest as well, his face pale with fear and loss of blood.

  Sinking my talons into the rope, I put all my strength into my wings, towing the wind wizard forward and achieving some air speed. I doubted we would have been visible to the hunters from this distance, but I didn’t want to risk it. Taking the third direction away from the hounds, the donkeys having gone the other two, I pulled us away at my best speed. I silently hoped my donkey friends didn’t hold onto their ropes too long.

  In a few minutes, the hunters were left far behind, and out of sight and sound. My ears are not as good in this form, but I believe the last thing I heard before we slipped out of range was an abrupt change in the cadence of the baying. I took this to signify that they had reached my diversions and were now milling about in confusion. At least, that was my fervent hope.

  Kerrik’s spell was already starting to wane and flutter, and we were losing altitude quickly despite my best efforts. Barely brushing the treetops, we were lucky enough to come across a small stream burbling rapidly over some shallow rocks, and I turned sharply to take advantage of this gift. A few seconds later, I released the wizard and he landed in ankle deep water. The rocks were apparently slippery as Kerrik staggered in the current and nearly fell but righted himself at the last second, both arms extended like an acrobat. Recovered, he just stood there and waited patiently. I don’t know if it’s his personality or his military training, but I have to grant that he listens well to instructions.

  Making a wide loop, I came in tight to a dense thicket of birch, and well-hidden from Kerrik’s view, I shifted from bird to a large chestnut mare. Trotting out from my concealment, I stepped into the stream and the water felt cool and refreshing on my hoofs. I waded slowly up to the wind wizard, my body language remaining as neutral as possible, like I do this kind of thing all the time.

  “Well, aren’t you a beauty,” he whispered running his hands from my chest, down the withers and across my back. I trembled slightly, whether it was from the cold water or the unfamiliar sensation of a man’s hands on my body. Oddly, I found I didn’t mind it so much, but I told myself it was the animal form talking. “No tack, huh? So bareback it is, then.” Kerrik spoke calmly and soothingly, as he patted me on the neck and led me over to a taller boulder in the water. Stepping up on the stone, he flung himself across my back with a shuddering groan and hung on, knotting his hands into my long mane.

  Ok, this was a new sensation; I had never been ridden before. Crap! I’ve never been a horse before either. While Kerrik wasn’t particularly heavy compared to my own weight in this form, he still had a tendency to put his knees and legs into uncomfortable places. I had always thought saddles were exclusively for the comfort of the horseman, but it appears I was wrong. The weight on my spine was also a little daunting, and I really didn’t relish the thought of running with him merrily bouncing along on top of me either. I now had a major appreciation for what real horses put up with.

  Sighing, I walked as steadily as possible out of the stream and headed in the general direction of Daffi’s tree, careful to keep my ears up and attuned to the night sounds. Surprisingly, Kerrik was stonily silent for the first part of the trip, and I considered the real possibility that he had fallen asleep or lapsed into unconsciousness. We traveled like that for hours, with me taking every opportunity to hide our trail as much as possible.

  Finally, off in the distance somewhere along our path, the resounding snarl of a hunting night cat split the dark air. Even though I didn’t have the facial muscles for it, I smiled. Rakka does so love small spotted pigs. It’s her version of the dragon twins’ obsession with bacon. Encouraged by the thought of my cat, I sped up and headed directly for the sound, and I instantly felt Kerrik stiffen up and become more alert.

  “I hope you are as fast as you look, girl,” he murmured, rubbing his hand alongside my neck nervously. His other hand was still loosely knotted in my mane and I could feel periodic tremors run through his fingers. I realized he still needed food, sleep and probably another dose or two of healing just to get him back into the shape he was when I first met him.

  We were within a few hundred yards of Daphne’s glen and passing under some large ash trees when a thick black tail lazily dropped down from the shrouded branches above and brushed across Kerrik’s face.

  The action was immediate. Startled, Kerrik cried out and leaned back in panic, still clutching my mane, which slammed me to a halt and backed me up, forcing my front hoofs up in the air. I screamed, a long drawn out horse curse, pedaling without any front traction, fighting desperately to steady myself and not fall over sideways. In some pain, I still took note of an enormous, laughing, and self-satisfied puma lounging placidly on a thick branch directly above us.

  I didn’t have time to stop and scold her as the wind wizard had apparently reverted to whatever horrendous horsemanship training he had received in the army and was repeatedly kicking me sharply in the sides. At the same time, he was screaming for me to run…run like the wind! Well, I didn’t do that. Instead, I brought my front feet back down to the earth and bent my neck around to bare my teeth and glare at him.

  Naurakka, for her part, soundlessly dropped down out of the tree and proceeded to sinuously circle us, emitting a low, chesty growl. This only made Kerrik redouble his efforts to spur me into action. Finally, he reached back and gave me a resounding slap on the rump.

  Ok, that’s it! Not only did that really, really hurt, but I will not have a man touching me so! Rearing back with an angry jerk, I dissolved his grip on my mane and dumped him unceremoniously on his backside on the ground. Immediately, Naurakka got right up into his face and sat down, affixing him with her startling blue eyes. I watched the wizard freeze, his eyes darting back and forth, looking for a way out.

  I finished transforming back into my human-appearing body and marched angrily back to where he was planted in the dirt. I’m not sure what shocked him more, the gigantic puma panting just inches from his face, puffs of water vapor caressing his cheeks, or watching me change from a full-sized horse back to a human-appearing girl.

  “You have a lot of nerve, Master Bard,” I barked at him, “not only did that hurt, but a gentleman does not touch a lady who is not his wife there!”

  “But…but…you were a horse,” he stuttered, his eyes still wide with confusion.

  “I’m sure that excuse serves you well in the seedy bars you frequent,” I steamed, “but I am no tavern wench to be manhandled with such brazen familiarity!”

  Naurakka stopped her panting and dramatically licked her chops, displaying her long canine teeth, before she glanced back at me imploringly.

  “No, Naurakka, you can’t just take a bite or two,” I huffed. “I still promised his sister I would return him to her in one piece.” Scowling, I pointed a finger at the wind mage. “But if you ever touch my bare bottom again without permission, I will serve you up to my Jag’uri on a platter with catnip, understand?”

  Kerrik nodded frantically, still attempting to scoot backward away from all the estrogen-fired crazy. Somewhat mollified, I stalked forward and reached down to drag the stunned wizard to his feet. “Now, come on, your sister is nearby and no doubt concerned.”

  Kerrik hastily dusted himself off and stumbled after us. “I thought Jag’uri were a myth,” he mumbled. After fifty yards or so, he collected his thoughts enough to speak cautiously. “I meant no disrespect. If you had only told me up front that you were a witch, I would have been more careful…”

  “A witch!” I sputtered, rounding on him angrily. Next to me, Naurakka closed her eyes and comically flopped over on the ground, putting her paws up over her ears. “I release you from prison…save your life twice! And rescue your sister from being eaten by hyaenodons, and that is what you think of me? That I am an evil, toadstool-sucking, baby-eating, hag of a witch?”

  “Well, I was hoping you were possibly…a good witch?” Kerrik ventured hesitantly.

  My Jag’uri moaned piteously
and shook her huge head, still covering her ears with her plate-sized paws.

  I glared at him, attempting to burn holes through his empty brain. “Oh, so the toadstool-sucking hag part still applies; just not evil, is that what you are saying?”

  Kerrik’s face blanched a few shades pastier than he was even with all the blood loss, as he knew he was standing in female quicksand. “Look, you are the last person on this planet I wish to argue with, Ryliss! And, yes, you have been everything you have said to me and my sister, and I owe you a tremendous debt I can never repay. But unless you tell me what I am expected to know, and how to approach our relationship, I am flying blind here so, of course, I’m going to crash and burn regularly!” He stopped, gasping for breath and leaned against a tree for support. “So, My Lady, if you are not a witch…may I please know what you are so that I do not offend you further?”

  I thought about it and ruffled the hair on Rakka’s head as she had gotten up and was now rubbing herself on my leg. “Fine…since you have already witnessed me shape change,” I muttered resentfully. “I am a Druid…”

  “But Druids are a…”

  “Myth?” I completed his sentence for him. “I can assure you, Master Bard, that Druids are very real. Just as Xarparion is real and Sky Raven Fortress is real; in fact, it’s my home.” I watched as Kerrik’s mouth opened and closed several times without saying a word. Finally, he closed it for good and just mutely followed as I turned and started walking the short distance to Daffi’s tree.

  Walking alongside me, Naurakka whispered in my mind, “It is good that you have finally returned. The young cub has not been calm or at peace since you left. The pooka is at wit’s end…which isn’t far to travel for a pooka anyway.” Rakka chuffed in an approximation of laughter.

 

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