Vatar turned and ran deeper into the Forest, away from his pursuers. There was a definite upward slope to the ground, now. He’d been climbing gradually for two days. The trees had changed, too. These were as straight as spears. Even their leaves were pointed like needles. The Forest here was permeated with a sharp, clean smell, completely unlike the rich, earthy smell of the Forest farther to the west.
Vatar also had an increasing feeling that he was nearing something. Somewhere up ahead, not far now, he felt that there was a place where he could get help—a place of safety. He was certain of it.
The trees grew more sparsely here. In places, Vatar could see through them to the mountains beyond. Snow was already marching far down the mountain sides. What he wanted—what he needed—was on the other side of those mountains. He could never have explained how he knew that, but he was as sure of it as he was of the direction of the sun. Only there was no way over those snow-covered mountains.
Vatar turned north, paralleling the mountains. He tried the more open slopes for part of a day. It felt natural, having the open sky above him—even this grey and threatening sky. He also thought he might be able to move faster without the trees obstructing his path. About midday, a flash of red high up caught his attention. Looking up, he saw something large flying above the mountain peaks. Vatar watched it with interest for a moment. Its wings appeared to be leathery, rather than feathered. As it circled lower, Vatar realized that it wasn’t a bird at all, but some kind of flying reptile. As soon as he recognized that, he felt something inside him quail in fear. It was the kind of terror that usually only moving water could inspire in him. He moved back into the cover of the trees. The open slopes felt entirely too exposed, now.
The terrain became more rugged the farther he went. His path was cut by gullies that he had to cross and the ground was rockier. Vatar pushed on as long as he could, but the terrain slowed him down. He tired too easily. The air didn’t seem to fill his lungs as it should and his head ached with his effort.
Vatar stopped for a moment and took a sip from his water skin. That made him feel a little better, so he pushed on again. He hadn’t gone very far when he became aware of a white doe keeping pace with him on his right. Looking to his left, he saw a white antelope. Of course. They would be the fastest, the ones who could catch him first. At a nod from the doe, the antelope wheeled and ran back down the way he had come. Gone to bring the others.
The white doe stepped in front of him, blocking his path. She shimmered and Lorania, eyes red from crying, stood in front of him.
“You killed him! Why?”
After the last several days, Vatar had become too inured to the magic to even react to this. Part of his mind registered that this would have been terrifying not long ago. Now, it was just another obstacle.
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to,” Vatar answered. “I didn’t have any choice. He would have killed me.”
“Now we will kill you!” she hissed.
Vatar shed his pack and ran, pushing past her. Lorania became the doe again, keeping pace with him easily. It wouldn’t take long for the others to catch up to him.
The trees ended unexpectedly. There was a long open slope leading to a gap between the mountain peaks. So close! Vatar knew that he needed to get through that gap. He dropped his spear and his water skin, too. All that mattered was getting through that gap before they caught him. As he sprinted, one thought ran through his brain, repeating and repeating. Help! Help! Help!
Chapter 46: The Call
Thekila looked ahead as she walked beside Quetza. The path was wide and rose at a gentle slope, at least compared to the trails they usually used for their flights. This hike wasn’t for a flight, though. The Pass was just ahead, less than a mile. What would they do when they reached the Pass and there was still no sign of the five missing students?
“Wait,” Terania gasped behind them. “Can’t we take a rest?”
Thekila suppressed a giggle at the way Quetza rolled her eyes.
With a sigh, Quetza composed her face and turned back. “Well, it’s not a foot race. We just have to get there and back before the snows close the Pass.” She looked meaningfully up at the heavy clouds threatening snow before morning.
Teran looked up and frowned, then he looked back at his twin, now sitting on a convenient boulder. “Just for a minute. I don’t know why the Elders sent us on this expedition anyway.”
“Because we’re the newest and youngest teachers at the Academy, of course.” Thekila walked back and offered the water skin she carried to Terania. “The newest always get the tasks the Elders don’t want. You know that.”
“I still say it’d be easier just to do a fly over. You two could just wait here and let us get a bird’s eye view.” Quetza winked at Thekila. “So to speak.”
Teran placed his hand protectively on Thekila’s arm. “No. It’s much too dangerous.”
Thekila half-turned her back and rolled her eyes at Quetza, who choked to cover a laugh.
Thekila was the first to turn her head at the shout she heard with her mind, not her ears. She knew that voice!
Terania jumped to her feet. “That must be one of them! What’s gone wrong?”
“Only one way to find out,” Quetza said and broke into a run for the top of the Pass. Thekila, shorter legs pumping hard, was right behind her. It’s him. He’s here. And he’s in trouble.
Chapter 47: The Pass
Vatar struggled up the slope. He must be two-thirds of the way to the top, now, but he couldn’t stop. They wouldn’t be that far behind him. Lungs burning, he pushed himself to go on.
The wolf’s hunting howl told him they were close behind him. Too close. Vatar didn’t dare stop to look back. All his energy was focused on getting to the top of the incline.
The world went crazy. Crazier. The slope around him seemed to burst into life. Rocks of all sizes from pebbles to fist-sized stones began jumping up from the ground and throwing themselves at him. At first, most of them missed. He continued struggling towards the top, dodging flying rocks as he stumbled upward.
The rocks seemed to be learning, though. Vatar choked on a hysterical laugh at that thought. The impulse died as more and more of the rocks struck him. Vatar felt the bones crunch as a large rock struck his upraised hand with force. The sudden pain dropped him to his knees. Vatar bit back a scream. He struggled back to his feet and tried to make it to the top. So close, now! So close!
Another rock struck him on the side of the head and Vatar fell face first into blackness.
Chapter 48: Rescue
Thekila and Quetza reached the top of the pass just in time to see a man fall under a whirling storm of rocks.
“Stop this at once!” Thekila’s voice echoed off the nearby mountains.
The flying rocks fell to the ground.
Below, four of the missing students they’d been sent to find looked up at the teachers. Hard to see their faces from up here, but their postures spoke defiance and anger. Well, the boys had always been trouble-makers. But where was the fifth student?
Loran stepped forward, feet apart and chest pushed out. “You can’t tell us what to do, Thekila. We’re not students anymore.”
Thekila looked down at him, her blood pounding with fury. “Can’t I?” Her eyes flicked to either side of the four teenagers. A little trickle of stones started on each side of the pass, growing steadily, becoming two small landslides which met exactly where the four teenagers were standing, knocking them unceremoniously off their feet.
Loran scrambled back up. He shimmered and the black bear stood in his place. The other three, as always, followed his lead, changing, too.
Teran stepped forward. “You don’t want to do this. Resume your true shapes immediately.”
The bear roared defiance.
Quetza shook her head, a slight smile on her lips. “You really should have paid more attention to your teachers.”
Teran shifted into a black-striped snowy white forest ti
ger, long fangs flashing. Beside him, Terania became a smaller, sleeker, but nearly as deadly mountain cat, also snowy white. Thekila smiled coldly. Never taking her eyes from the four below, she flowed into a huge white eagle and pushed herself into the air. Quetza’s form melted into that of a white wyvern. She flapped skyward and breathed fire down just above the four teenagers. Three of them shimmered back into their own forms instantly. Alone now, Loran changed back, too.
Thekila allowed herself to sink back to the ground, followed by Quetza. The adults also resumed their own shapes.
“Get up here right now,” Teran commanded. “The Council will have to be informed of this. What did you think you were doing?”
Instead, the four teenagers turned and fled. Quetza started to go after them.
Teran stopped her. “Leave them. They’ve made their choice.”
Thekila strode downhill to the still form. Gently checking for a pulse, Thekila sighed with relief when she found it. “He’s alive.”
She and Quetza began systematically checking for injuries. They found several broken bones, but no damage to his neck or back. Gently, they turned him over.
The pain roused him. His eyes flickered open and came to rest on Thekila. “You!” he whispered hoarsely.
Thekila choked at sight of that well-known face, bruised and scratched as it was. She put a hand on his cheek. “Can’t you hold a conversation for more than three words? Do you have any idea how frustrating that’s been?”
Vatar’s brow creased as he tried to focus on her face. “You’re real?” His eyes closed as he faded from consciousness.
Thekila shook her head and huffed. “You just did it again.”
~
Thekila paced outside the hastily-erected tent, waiting for the Healer to finish her examination. She spun on her heel as the Healer came through the tent flap.
The Healer gave a curt nod. “He’ll live and mend in time. He’s awake now, but be quick. He’s in a great deal of pain.”
Teran nodded back. “I’ll be as quick as I can. But we have to have some questions answered before the Pass closes.”
Thekila ducked into the tent behind the Healer and before Teran. No way was she going to allow him to be the only one to question Vatar.
Teran stared down at the patient for a moment. “I’m Teran. What’s your name?”
“Vatar.” The answer was hoarse.
Teran took what Thekila had come to think of as his I-am-in-charge-here teacher pose. “Tell me what happened out there. How did you come to be unconscious in the Pass? Start at the beginning.”
Vatar swallowed and blinked a couple of times. Slowly, he recounted his meetings with Loran, Platan, Lorania, Zoria, and Keran. When he had finished, Teran nodded to the Healer.
She held a cup to Vatar’s lips. “Drink this.”
Vatar drank and faded back into unconsciousness with a sigh of relief.
“Were they trying to see how many of the Tenets they could break?” Teran sighed and shook his head. “I’ll go inform their parents. And the Council.”
Thekila hovered at the Healer’s elbow after Teran had left. “How bad is it?”
The Healer’s lips thinned. “Bad enough. If you ask me, the Council should give them a taste of their own medicine and see how they like it. But to answer your question. Broken ribs, a broken ankle and a broken wrist and hand. The ribs have been broken before. All will knit with rest and time. The hand is the worst. That will hurt the most and take the longest to heal and regain its former strength. The rest are mainly bruises. It’s fortunate he’s so well-muscled. That protected him from much worse damage to internal organs. Muscles will ache, but they will also heal.”
Thekila bit her lip. “What about the head wound?”
The Healer snorted. “That! His skull is thick enough to absorb that. At least it didn’t crack his skull. He must have been nearly passed out from the pain already. He’ll have a headache. Perhaps a little blurred vision. But it should pass in a day or so. He needs rest, chiefly. He must have run himself nearly to exhaustion before the attack.”
“Should we move him to the City—or the Academy?” Thekila asked.
The Healer shrugged. “The Academy is nearer. There’s plenty of room in the infirmary.”
Chapter 49: Too Late
Seeker bayed mournfully and sat down next to Vatar’s abandoned pack. It had snowed during the night, nearly defeating even Seeker’s ability to follow a trail. But he had found something at last.
Orleus and Cestus waded through the new-fallen snow to reach the dog.
Orleus squatted down beside the dog. “Good boy!” He opened the pack to examine the contents. He put the striped, rolled-up hide to one side.
Cestus sagged down on a nearby boulder, taking advantage of the brief rest. They’d been pushing hard since hearing Vatar’s call for help the day before.
“It seems he needed speed more than food.” Orleus found and withdrew the arrowheads. He held them up to look them over.
Cestus nodded. “Vatar’s. I’ve seen enough of his work.”
“A fine smith,” Orleus said. “I’ll have to ask him to make my blades and points in future.”
Cestus frowned. “If he’s still alive.”
Orleus grunted agreement. Out of curiosity, he unrolled the hide and whistled through his teeth at the size of it. “Forest tiger?”
Cestus nodded. “Vatar was awarded the hide for killing the beast.” He pointed to a hole in the side. “That’s where his lance went in.”
“Just like Tabeus and the Sea Dragon, eh?” Orleus started rolling up the hide. “We’ll take this for safe keeping.”
They continued up the slope. Seeker dug through the snow, uncovering the spear and water skin.
“Good work, Seeker!” Orleus said, but his face was grim. “A man would only throw away his water and his weapon if he were running for his life. Even then . . .” He looked up to the rocky slope and the pass beyond it. “He seems to have been heading for that pass. I wonder why.” With a sigh, he added, “Let’s go see what we can find out.”
Fully exposed to the sun, the snow had melted on the lower slope. Orleus paid close attention to the ground as they climbed. “These rocks have been disturbed recently.” His brow creased as he looked from side to side. “Looks like a miniature landslide. Could have been a lot worse.”
Seeker whined, sniffing around higher up. Orleus went to see what the dog had found. He picked up one of the rocks and found blood on it. Wordlessly, he showed it to Cestus, who sagged to his knees. Seeker began casting around again. Without snow on the slope, he found traces of the trail. He ran, sniffing, straight to the snow line. Curious, Orleus followed him. In a small depression he found a foot print.
Orleus looked ahead to what would be the top of the pass. The snow had drifted too deep and each movement or sound sent ominous trickles of snow down from the steep mountain sides, threatening an avalanche. The pass was effectively closed until the snow melted in the spring.
With a sigh, Orleus rejoined Cestus, who was crouched, staring at the bloody rock.
“There’s a footprint up there by the snow,” he said.
“Vatar’s?” Cestus asked.
“No. It’s too small and the maker was wearing sandals, not boots. And whoever made it was coming this way—down the pass.” Orleus settled himself to think. “Something happened here. Most likely, whoever was chasing Vatar caught up to him here, in this spot.”
Cestus nodded miserably.
“But, there’s no sign of Vatar here,” Orleus continued. “No body and no sign that a body was dragged away from here.”
Cestus looked up. “What are you saying?”
“I think . . . I think Vatar was taken over that pass by someone. Possibly not his pursuers.”
“Was he alive? Or . . . dead?”
Orleus shook his head. “No way to tell. And no way to get over that pass until spring, either. Last night’s snowfall has sealed it tight.”
“Then what do we do?”
Orleus took the bloody rock from Cestus’ hand and threw it across the slope. “We go back. For now,” he said. “Then we come back here in the spring and we find out what happened to our brother. And who did it.”
Cestus nodded unhappily. “It’s going to be a long winter.”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence.
“You’d better let Father know. He’ll be pacing like a caged cat by now,” Cestus said at last.
Orleus shook his head. “Too far for me to reach. But no doubt Father will make the Far Speech contact before long. Likely tonight.” He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Right now, I wish I had no Talent. Father is not going to like this news.”
“No, he’s not,” Cestus agreed.
Chapter 50: Caught
Maktaz sat outside his cozy hut. He’d followed his Wolf Clan friends to their autumn village and they’d continued to provide for him. Maktaz congratulated himself on his relative comfort and indulged himself in imagining how hard it must be for Vatar, alone in the Forest. He allowed his mind to wander in that pleasant reverie, envisioning starvation and hungry tigers.
He looked up when a shadow fell across him and gasped as he recognized the Wolf Clan chief, Pakel, and his two strapping sons. His hideout hadn’t been secret enough.
Pakel stared down at him. “You have forfeited your Ordeal, Maktaz. You have no honor. I am ashamed that some of my Clan also had so little honor that they would help you.”
To his sons, he said. “Take him. We will hold him in the bachelor hut until Zeda. It will be for the full tribe to determine his fate.”
The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) Page 25
