Adrift

by J F Rogers

  Pepin shouted something I couldn’t understand without Drochaid. He dropped my pack on the other side of the tree, by the upended roots. I changed and hurried back before my clothes got soaked. I already felt like a used mop.

  “A coyote tried to attack me. And there’s a bird following us. I’m sure it’s a fasgadair.”

  Pepin’s eyes darted in every direction, then scanned the sky.

  “The coyote took off. And the bird is probably holed up somewhere.” I hugged myself and smoothed my goosebumps. “Trust me, it’s not fun to fly in the rain.”

  “A gift from God.” Pepin’s cheeks puffed as he blew the smoke.

  “The rain? You hate to get wet.”

  “As do the fasgadair, even in animal form. And the rain covers our sound and makes us harder to spot. Should give us time for a safe meal.” He gestured to his pathetic fire. “Can you get those sticks to ignite? They’re wet.”

  It had been a while since I’d started a fire. And I’d never tried to start one in the rain. I stared at the twigs, and they erupted into flames. Just like flying. Once you learned, you never forgot.

  “Won’t the smoke give away our location?”

  “Did you see a pack of strange animals while you were up there?”

  “Just the coyote.”

  “Then we should be all right. A lone coyote would be a fool to attack three.”

  “Where’s Wolf?”

  “Hunting.” Pepin threw more sticks on the fire.

  “Do we have time for this?” I sat on a rock and stretched my shoulders, cursing myself for not practicing flying as I had hiking and running.

  “We need to keep up our strength.” He huddled underneath the tree. “Besides, birds get cold and hungry. And you’d slow us down as a human.”

  Something crunched behind me. I jumped to my feet.

  Wolf chuckled and sauntered over, a rabbit in each hand. “A wee bit jumpy are ye?”

  “Faolan!” I rushed into him and squeezed though he was wet. He held his arms out to keep the rabbits from touching me.

  “You’re strong,” he said in a falsetto voice.

  Laughing, I let him go. He looked the same as when I left. Only wet. His black hair hung in wet clumps, sticking to his face and the back of his neck.

  “And call me Wolf. Faolan is too similar to Fallon. It gets confusing.”

  “Okay…Wolf.” Calling a grown man Wolf was odd. Although he looked much younger, closer to my age, he carried himself like an older man. And he was. A middle-aged man trapped in a young guy’s body from his years of stunted growth in fasgadair form. Such news would be dangerous in my realm. The next antiaging fad and get-rich-quick scheme.

  But he was right. And Wolf was better than De’Mere, his fasgadair name. I shuddered to think he’d ever been one. “I can’t believe I’m here, and you’re serving me rabbit…again.”

  “Ye weren’t so trusting the first time.” He winked.

  “You were chasing me.” I gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

  “Aye.” He shrugged and handed Pepin the rabbits. “There was that. But then I remember ye screaming that ye couldn’t prepare a rabbit.”

  “I thought you were just a wolf. If I knew I’d hear about it later…” I returned to my seat. “So, what did I miss?”

  Wolf massaged his lower back, then settled on a dry spot under our meager roof while Pepin set to work on the rabbits. “I was in your world, watching over ye. But Pepin’s been about. He shared whilst I carried him and both your loads.” Wolf groaned and rubbed his back again. “He’s quite the windbag, blathering on. ’Tis time ye got to work, chum.”

  Pepin rolled his eyes. “You try riding an overstuffed animal…” He continued mumbling something as he fashioned a spit for the fire. He walked bowlegged with more of a waddle than usual.

  “Talk about overstuffed…” Wolf’s hazel eyes dulled. “Ariboslia has gotten worse than I’d imagined.”

  “Worse?” I hugged my cold arms tight about my middle. “Didn’t Aodan’s death make things better?”

  “Aodan’s death ’twas only the beginning. He was kind compared to his replacement, Na’Rycha. Not one clan has remained unaffected except the Ain-Dìleas in the city of Bandia in the Cnatan Mountains.”

  Pepin snorted. “If you consider becoming an overrun military outpost unaffected. Survivors are taking refuge there now. They’re training all able-bodied males to fight.”

  “What about my mother and the rest of the Ceas Croi escapees? What about the Cael?” Pepin had sent a warning before I returned home.

  Pepin skinned a rabbit with skilled precision. “Everyone made it to Bandia before Na’Rycha burned Notirr down.”

  Notirr? My Ariboslian home. The homes in the hills, the tent where we gathered for meals, the barns and stables…the animals. Was it all gone? The pier where I’d first talked to Declan must still be there. Thank God, the people survived. I hoped the animals did too.

  “But the Ain-Dìleas’s alliance is shaky.” Pepin hacked at our dinner. “Since they worship false gods, they see the Cael and many other clans who believe in the one true God as intolerant fools. They’re waiting for your arrival to decide how to proceed. They’ve heard rumors about you.”

  “What rumors?” Clan leaders were talking about me?

  Pepin stilled, his chunky arms lowering one rabbit to his side as he met my gaze in the firelight. Part of me didn’t want to hear his answers. Part of me wanted him to hurry up and say it.

  “Some want you to join the fight, believing you’re the key to winning. Others fear harboring you will make them a target.”

  “Aye.” Wolf scrunched his face and shook out his hair, flinging droplets my way. He needed to spend less time as a wolf. “Morrigan wants to avenge Aodan’s death. She’s sent troops of armies under Na’Rycha’s ruthless charge, destroying everything in their path, seeking you.”

  “Avenge Aodan? She killed him.”

  Wolf threw me his are-ye-that-daft look. “She was trying to kill ye. She blames ye for his death.”

  “But it’s not my fault. If they hadn’t tried killing me…”

  Wolf snorted. “A demon cannot see reason.”

  “We must kill Morrigan. First, we have to get through Na’Rycha’s army. You are the key.” Silver flashed as Pepin worked.

  “You keep saying that. The key. How am I the key?” I tried not to witness the rabbit’s dissection, but my gaze kept gravitating toward the knife.

  Wolf narrowed his eyes. “Have ye forgotten what you did when you were here?”

  “You mean what my blood did.” Not me.

  “Ian drank your blood and died. But Evan drank your blood and lived…no longer a fasgadair. Same with Aodan before Morrigan killed him. And Wolf.” Pepin aimed the bloody blade toward Wolf, then laid the cleaned rabbits aside. He groaned as he rumbled to his feet.

  “What does that have to do with—”

  “I don’t know.” Pepin shoved a stick through a carcass and balanced it on the spit. “But you were given your abilities for such a time as this.”

  “So, what’s the plan? Let every fasgadair try to kill me to see if they live or die? Remember what happened when three fed on me in the same day?” I touched my neck as if expecting to find the wounds. “I was barely conscious. And they’ll want me dead. What’s to keep them from chopping off my head? I’m not immortal.”

  Concern darkened Wolf’s hazel eyes.

  “Na’Rycha must be stopped,” Pepin said. “Since the gachen population has thinned, he’s killing the pech.”

  “How? Aren’t they underground?” The Tower of Galore wasn’t. And it was visible for miles. I covered my mouth. “The Tower—”

  “It’s destroyed.” Wolf peeked at Pepin then lowered his gaze.

  A tear settled into Pepin’s beard.

  An underground world full of people, children. All I knew is what Pepin told
me. If only they hadn’t made me forget by forcing me to eat a glemmestein. I blinked back tears. My heart ached for them…for Pepin.

  “We must trust and obey God in this. You are part of His plan. And He is with us.” Pepin wiped a tear.

  “Does Sully see what will happen?”

  “Sully sees what God reveals.” Pepin spun the rabbit on the spit. “He’s not providing many answers. He tells us to do things that lead to more questions, such as waiting for you rather than going straight into battle.”

  “What about you? Before I left Ariboslia, you turned prophet on us. You told us what we should do and when. Do you still have any of that prophet thing going on?”

  Pepin’s braid bounced as he shook his head. “Like Sully, and everyone else, God uses us for His purposes at His appointed times.”

  “And Drochaid?” I pulled the amulet from my neckline. “It hasn’t lit up once. Am I even supposed to be here?”

  “I created Drochaid, and I don’t understand it,” Pepin said. “I’ve never heard of an amulet that acted as a guide. No pech has. If God made it so, and I believe He did, it probably wasn’t intended to guide you throughout your life. It may have outlived its usefulness in that manner. For the moment, it still serves its intended purpose: as a key through the megalith and as a language translator. It was never more than a tool.”

  I groaned. My head hurt. Why couldn’t anything be simple?

  Wolf placed a hand on my shoulder. “None of this is yer fault. Yer the key to making it better.”

  I moved out of his reach. “That’s what I thought. I was willing to die for it.”

  Wolf scratched his chin. “From my perspective, we’ve found a cure for fasgadair who wish to be saved.”

  “But that cure is me. My blood.” All they have to do is kill me and take over Ariboslia. Doubts I thought I’d settled assaulted me. “There are so many of them and only one of me.”

  Wolf laid a hand on my shoulder, warm comfort issuing from his palm. “Yer loved, lass. Be at peace. God is with us. And we only need one of Him.”

  Pepin handed me a rabbit leg. I was hungry but had to force myself to eat. Each bite sank like a rock, weighing heavily in my stomach. Why had I been so eager to return? How could I help anyone? I put a target on their back.

  I caught movement in my periphery. A blur pounced on me. Claws pierced my upper chest, pushing me back. My shoulder hit a rock. The coyote stood over me. Protruding fangs lunged at my face.

  Chapter Six

  ◊◊◊

  WOLF LIFTED THE COYOTE by its scruff. The thing snarled, snapping its jaw. Its body twisted midair. Wolf sliced its neck. Blood splattered my arm. I recoiled, and the coyote went limp. Wolf dropped it and rushed to my side.

  “Are ye all right, lass?” Reaching out a hand, he helped me stand.

  My body shook. My stomach threatened to bring back what little I’d just eaten. The thing’s claw’s ripped my T-shirt in several places. Scratches burned underneath. An ache radiated from my shoulder. “Is my shoulder bleeding?”

  Wolf peeled back my shirt enough to inspect my shoulder. Good thing he was like a father, albeit a very young father. “’Tis red. ’Twill bruise. What about those scratches?”

  “I’ll be okay.” I peeked beneath my neckline to inspect them all. “They’re not deep.” I stood and wiped at the coyote’s blood, making it smudge my shirt. The rain had stopped. But there were fresh puddles. Good thing I packed plenty of shirts.

  Wolf glanced in every direction. “What possessed that crazed beast to attack? ’Twas no coyote, that’s for certain. Plenty of rodents roam these woods. It wouldn’t have been desperate enough to go after something your size. But if it was a fasgadair, ’twas off its head. The beast had no chance against three.”

  I stared at the lifeless form. His nose had a fresh scratch. “This one attacked me earlier. Maybe it wasn’t part of Morrigan’s army. Maybe it wanted to die.” I blinked back a tear. “What if I could’ve saved it?”

  “What if it…” Wolf grabbed fistfuls of his hair as if he was about to pull it out, his face twisted in frustration. Then he let go and relaxed. “I don’t even want to consider what it might’ve done to you. I won’t let that happen.”

  I swiped at the blood on my shirt again. “Don’t you have to remove its head, so it won’t regenerate?”

  “Aye. I will. No need for ye to see that. I’ll take care of it when yer in the air.”

  The sky didn’t look the same to me. It posed new threats. “I can’t risk getting separated again. What if I ended up here alone, without Drochaid or clothes? I don’t know where Kylemore is.”

  “Ye must.” Wolf put a hand on my shoulder. “We need yer eyes. And we’re close. Kylemore is southeast. If ye lose us, let yer bird senses guide you. If ye reach the ocean, you’ve gone too far.”

  I sighed. No point arguing. I changed back into a bird and retreated to the sky. My shoulder didn’t hurt as much, and it was safer up here. I was the predator. The one to fear. Unless the bird following us was stronger. Given the lengths it went through to remain unseen, I doubted it was anything to fear. I hoped.

  Still, I wanted to catch it.

  The wind had shifted, making my flight easier. I flew faster, soaring ahead of my friends to turn around, hoping to catch whatever tailed us. Nothing but blue sky. If nothing else, I made it difficult to follow us without getting caught. My friends kept disappearing under the heavy brush. And the sun was lowering.

  I wanted to call out. But after the coyote attack, I didn’t want to bring on unwanted attention. Where were they? Had I gone too far ahead? Had I circled back in the wrong direction? I tried to tune in to my bird senses. Duh. Everyone who’d ever been to elementary school knew the sun rises in the east. The sun was behind me, and I need to go southeast. I angled myself toward the sun, keeping it to my left.

  Wolf appeared in a clearing. He and Pepin were advancing at a good clip. I took a deep breath and soared after them, determined not to lose them again. The dense growth ended ahead, replaced by strange trees standing like bristled toothpicks in the earth.

  No, not strange. Burnt. The smell of ash assaulted my bird-nose. Thick charred trees appeared to be upside down, their black roots jutting up from the ground. Plants looked like frozen, black snakes standing on their tails. A chill swept through my feathers. From this distance and height, the fire’s path was clear. Nothing within it moved. Everything was dead.

  But I’d be able to keep better track of Wolf and Pepin. And it would be difficult for any living thing to hide. I pressed on ahead.

  Further up, life reemerged. The trees fattened. Birds flitted, crying out and scattering at my approach. Tree-dwelling critters chittered. Elephants trumpeted. Elephants?

  Large gray bodies stood in a pond, which barely contained them. I angled back and perched on a tree. One elephant shot water at two others who trumpeted in return. The smallest one dipped its trunk, which swelled with water. Just before the blast hit the offending elephant’s face, it lowered onto its front legs. Water sailed overhead.

  “Analu, Keoni, Palani.” A young woman called out in a hushed voice, sounding stern yet playful, matching her expression. Head tilted, hands on hips, she angled her piercing dark eyes at them and smiled. She spoke in a foreign tongue. I didn’t understand a word without Drochaid. She spun her athletic frame, her long hair following in a wave, and sauntered down a wide path. The elephants ambled out of the water. On their way, the little one loaded its trunk and blasted the ammunition at the elephant it missed before, hitting its butt. The struck elephant swung its head, trumpeted, and followed the girl.

  After they passed, I returned to the sky.

  A strange sound, similar to someone running in corduroys, came from the trees. “Vvvvvt.” Something shot past me.

  An arrow.

  Chapter Seven

  ◊◊◊

  “VVVVVT.” A SHARP TIP ruffled my feathers. No pain. It hadn’t hi
t flesh. I tucked, dove a couple feet before banking to the left, descended another couple of feet, and veered back to the right, evading further attack. The dead area lay up ahead. I flapped with all my might.

  I spotted Wolf and Pepin in the burned section. They were close. Too close.

  I flew at Pepin, knocking him off Wolf. He pulled himself up and wiped the ash on his arm, turning his arm black. He threw me a stern look and shouted something I couldn’t understand. I hopped around shaking my wings, kicking up soot.

  Pepin abandoned my pack behind a thick, charred stub.

  “Arrows.” I didn’t dare raise my voice too much, but I had to warn them. I changed in record speed and bolted out from behind the tree. “Shooting…” I pointed in the direction I’d come, gasping for breath.

  Wolf sniffed at the air.

  “Elephants…girl…”

  “Ah.” Pepin relaxed, returning his knife to its sheath. “Maili of Kylemore.”

  Doubled over, clutching my side, I turned to Pepin. “Huh?” Maili? Please, no. “Declan’s betrothed?”

  “She’s why we’re here.”

  “Well…she or someone with her tried to kill me.”

  ****

  The wide path where Maili had disappeared seemed like another world from the ground. Thick trees with trunks broad enough to house a small airplane lined the hard-packed dirt. Their branches formed a canopy about thirty feet over my head. The tunnel split off onto smaller passageways, but we kept to the main path.

  I scanned everywhere for my attacker. How could they approach this place so boldly?

  “Who are you?”

  I jumped, turning to the sound. The voice, the same girl I’d heard earlier, came from overhead. I searched the trees. She stood with an arrow trained on us.

  “It is I, Pepin.” He pounded his chest twice and bowed—the traditional pech greeting. He motioned to Wolf. “This is Faolan of Notirr in wolf form. And…” Pepin tipped his head and gestured toward me, palm up, like a game-show host presenting a prize. “…this is Fallon of the human realm.”