They were sitting around the campfire one night, deep in the Grasslands, plotting an attack on the dark elves that had taken over a stronghold in the southeastern corner of the forest, when Naevys called Gin off to one side. “A word, my darling Gin?” the older druid said. Gin immediately got up and followed her new mentor. “I want to tell you that I am so proud of you for being such an efficient healer when we are engaged in battle, dearie,” Naevys said. “Truly, you are amazing, and have saved all our lives many times over.”
“But you want me to learn to use my other skills as a druid, I suppose?” Gin asked apprehensively. “The offensive magic?”
Naevys smiled at her, an almost sad expression on her face. “My dear, you are not fit for that.”
Gin’s mouth popped open in surprise, forming a perfect O. “Not…fit?” she stammered.
“No, pet, you aren’t.” Naevys smoothed a bit of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind one of Gin’s ears, her actions resembling a mother interacting with a child. Her hawkish stare held Gin’s gaze for a moment before she spoke. “You are not made of stern stuff like our Nel there. You are a healer and a caretaker, nothing more, nothing less.”
“But…Nel said you could help me with the other parts of being a druid!” Gin said, almost stamping her tiny foot in annoyance. A raised eyebrow from Naevys silenced her. “Apologies,” she muttered, casting her gaze down at the floor.
“None needed, dearie,” Naevys said, still looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a suspicious gaze. “I just want to make sure that you know your place in our little family. I know it was you that threw out the magical stinging insects on our last opponent, and while it did help us beat back the foe it took your focus away from your role, which is keeping all of us bathed in healing magic.”
“So…I don’t need to learn all those spells?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all. There may be times when you are alone and need to defend yourself,” Naevys said, a slight trace of annoyance creeping into her voice. If Gin noticed it, she paid it no mind. “I am saying that you need to know your place. That is all. Does that make sense, dearie?” Gin looked up into that face that so resembled her own, their racial features so similar, but saw in the elder druid’s eyes a different spark than she knew looked out from her own icy blue eyes. Naevys’s eyes shone with a lust for battle and carnage that should never have taken hold in a follower of the All-Mother.
“Aye,” Gin said, resentment bubbling up within her. After all, both Naevys and Lyrea possessed skills in magic that could offer healing to the wounded. Why was she being singled out to sit back out of the fray, on her horse Beau? She had to know the truth. “May I ask, at least, is it that I am not good enough to fight?” Tears overflowed her lashes and coated her cheeks.
Naevys sighed loudly. “No, my dearie, you aren’t. I’m sorry to say that, but it’s the truth.” Gin blinked a few times and then nodded her head, saying nothing. Naevys patted her on the shoulder and returned to the group, leaving Gin alone with her spell book. The younger druid stared down at the pages, wishing that she could erase all the words there that she would never say with the tears still falling onto the long ago dried ink. The damaging magic that she was supposed to know, she now would never use.
“Better to stay with what I know, I suppose,” she murmured as she wiped her eyes. She replaced the spell book in her haversack and then joined the others at the fire.
“You all right, Blueberry?” Dorlagar asked her. He studied her face, as he did so often when he thought she was asleep around the fire and it was his turn for night watch. She was sure he had memorized every line and crease in her face and the soft waves of her hair.
Gin scowled at him. “Don’t call me that,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” Nelenie scooted closer, in between Gin and Dorlagar. “What did Naevys say to you?” Her eyes searched Gin’s own. “You aren’t…leaving us are you?”
“What? No!” Gin stared back at her old friend. “Never, Nel. Never. She just wanted to make sure I didn’t have any questions about any of the spells I’m learning, is all,” she lied. Nelenie’s stare burned into Gin’s eyes. “What? That’s all it was, I promise.” It was not exactly a lie.
“Okay, well, if you go I go,” Nelenie said. “We’re in this together, yeah?” She squeezed Gin’s hand and then, making fleeting eye contact with Dorlagar, got up from the fireside and wandered out into the woods to collect more firewood.
“I’m, uh…glad you’re not going,” Dorlagar stammered. Gin’s eyes met his and she thought for a moment that he had stopped breathing.
“Thanks.” Gin looked down at the ground. “I’ll try really hard not to get any of you killed.” She stood up and wandered along behind where Nelenie had entered the forest, knowing that if she did not get away from all of them she would burst into tears. Once she was past the tree line, she spoke quick words and magically assumed the form of one of the nearby trees. Now I can think…and cry, she thought.
Dorlagar sprinted after her, stopping as he entered the trees and could no longer see her. “I’m glad you’re not going because you’re mine, Blueberry,” he whispered, his voice low and menacing. He leaned against a tree for a moment, and then pulled his hand back in shock. It felt warm, not like a tree at all! Backing away, he said silent words of protection before sprinting back to the campfire. The tree he had touched shook slightly, and then shrank until it was again the form of a wood elf.
Gin wrapped her arms around her body to try to control her shaking. Everything was going wrong. Why was Nelenie mixed up with this lot? What had Dorlagar meant, she was his? All she had ever wanted to do was help him find his sister, and that seemed to be a dead end. She had never given him reason to think of her that way…had she? “I have to get away from here and go back home,” she whispered. “But how?” She sat down on the forest floor to think. A shout from their camp a few minutes later interrupted her thoughts. Gin hopped to her feet and ran back toward the campfire. Everyone gathered there, anxiously awaiting Naevys to speak. The white-haired wood elf was perched on top of her mount, watching them with her silvery gaze.
“My darlings, we have a rare privilege,” she said, looking each of them in the eye. “Each of you, even our Gin who has not been with us long, has come so far in your training and I could not be more proud. Nevertheless, to be able to fight together, you must know and trust each other. You must be able to depend on each other’s abilities as though they are your own, and you must recognize your own weaknesses as well as those of the others. In that, we will cease to be individuals and will function as one being against those that would challenge us.” Her horse whinnied and she patted the magical animal on the neck, calming it.
“I think we know each other pretty well,” Dorlagar said. His eyes skated over Gin and then wandered back to Nelenie, who grinned at him. Gin saw the interaction and frowned, but then let it go.
“Aye, you do, but the only real way to test your skills and that knowledge is with the event I have planned for us,” Naevys said, positively vibrating with excitement. Gin’s stomach clenched as Naevys walked around the group, handing each an envelope bearing her own seal. “This will tell you where to go and when to be there.” Pulling her companion Lyrea to her side, Naevys spoke ancient Elvish words of transportation magic. The two winked out of existence, leaving Nelenie, Dorlagar, and Gin standing there staring at their envelopes. They opened them, staring at the contents a moment, then at each other.
“She can’t be serious!” Gin exclaimed.
“This is fabulous!” Nelenie said happily. “Gin, you can take us there, right?”
“Yeah, let’s get going. Hug the druid,” Dorlagar said, moving a bit too close to Gin for her own comfort as she recited the spell. “Finally, a real chance to find my sister and punish those that took her from me.” The familiar feeling overtook Gin, that of being pulled inside out, and she closed her eyes as the spell took hold. “Home,” she said, the final word in the s
pell determining where they would land.
The familiar smell of the forest filled Gin’s head and she opened her eyes to find herself on her backside on the lush grass. She paused a moment before getting to her feet to thank the All-Mother for safe travel and sink her fingers into the strong ground beneath her. “Sorry about the landing,” she said as she stood up. Nelenie, still on the ground, laughed.
“Not the first time, and it won’t be the last time,” she said, winking at Gin as Dorlagar helped her up. He pulled a bit harder than she was expecting, and Nelenie fell into his arms, giggling. Gin turned her back to them and unrolled the map that Naevys had given them. Hopefully, this mission would see Dorlagar reunited with his sister and Gin back on her way home. She sighed as she began following Nelenie and Dorlagar away from the direction of the lift that would carry her up to her people, to her home in the trees. They headed south to Calder’s Port.
Nine
Raedea nearly fell through the door of the pub, overcome with exhaustion. This was the last establishment before the landscape began to rise into small hills and the dark forest that was home to the elven races of Orana. She slung her bag into a chair and sat down next to it, happy to be off her weary feet.
“Room for the night, pet, or just a pint and a meal?” asked a woman that seemed to appear out of nowhere at the end of the table that Raedea was slumped across. She looked up to find warm, friendly blue eyes looking out at her from a halo of orange curls. She returned the woman’s smile.
“All of the above, if you don’t mind?” Raedea replied. “But…I don’t have much…” She dug into her backpack while holding up a finger to the barmaid. She retrieved a small pouch from her bag and fumbled around inside. “One platinum piece,” she said, face flushed with embarrassment. “Will that be enough for a night’s rest? I don’t really need any food, I suppose, if that will…”
“Shush you!” the woman replied, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s plenty for supper and breakfast and a clean and comfortable bed for the night.” She snatched the coin from Raedea and started for the kitchen, but then turned back and ran a hand over the top of Raedea’s head, a familiar gesture from Raedea’s childhood. It was then that Raedea looked past the hair and the dancing blue eyes and saw the wrinkles around the corners of the woman’s eyes and across her from years of smiling. Tears sprang unbidden to Raedea’s own eyes as she remembered her own mother.
“Thank you,” she whispered and the barmaid nodded, a knowing smile on her face as she headed for the kitchen. Once again, Raedea nearly melted into the table, this time from a mix of fatigue and the overwhelming memories that flooded her mind and heart. She stayed in that position until she heard a commotion behind her and sat back up to see what was going on.
“Oh, no, not again,” the same barmaid was saying as she pushed back against the tallest figure Raedea had ever seen. “You couldn’t pay the last two times, Cat.”
“Oh, Ivy, come on now,” said a deep voice from under the hood that obscured the face of the tall figure. He was clearly male, but had the strangest undertone to his voice that Raedea had ever heard. It was almost like a purr, but was her mind imagining that because the barmaid, whose name was apparently Ivy, had called him "Cat"? Raedea had heard of a settlement on an island in the northwest, past the forest of the elves, where a race of felines lived who were as large as humans and walked upright. They were called the Qatu, but Raedea had never believed that they were real…until now.
“Nope, sorry Sath, not happening,” Ivy said, but her eyes told another story. Raedea could hear the purring sound now and wondered if that was why Ivy seemed to soften a bit. “I can let you have a pint, I’m not a monster, but that’s all, you hear me?”
“Course I do, darlin,” he replied, still not removing his hood as he moved past her. “Hey, what’s going on here?” he said as he stopped in front of Raedea. “Excuse me, little girl, you okay?” Raedea realized he was talking to her when he waved a hand in front of her face…but it was more like a paw, really, than a hand. His long fingers, covered with cream-colored fur tipped in black, ended in horrible sharp claws. She jumped back a bit and looked up into teal eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the hood. “Does she not talk, this one?” he asked over his shoulder toward Ivy who was pulling a pint for him behind the bar.
“Sit down, you big hairball,” she said as she wiped the overflowing foam from the edge of the glass and brought it to table near where Raedea was sitting, transfixed. “Leave the other customers alone.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied, knocking his hood back with one clawed finger. Raedea gasped in spite of herself. “Lemme guess, never seen a Qatu before, right?” His gaze held her fast as he took a deep swallow of his pint.
Raedea took a deep breath and managed to find her voice. “No, I haven’t,” she said. Glancing around toward the bar, she hoped to see Ivy coming with her food, but there was no one there. “I apologize for staring, good sir.” She looked down at her hands, lacing her fingers together in front of her. After a moment or two, she could feel that he was still staring at her and she looked back.
“What’s your name, ma’am?” he said as his gaze seemed to bore into her. “I’m Sath…”
“Yes, I heard Ivy call you that,” Raedea replied. “Well, that and Cat.” She grinned but the smile faded as she noticed that he was not smiling. “My name is…Rae.”
“Nice to meet you, Rae,” Sath replied, nodding toward her and finally cracking a smile. Raedea could see why he had not smiled before…his teeth were that of a large cat, and she found herself unable to breathe for a moment as her mind called up memories of the wild cats that she had faced in her journey through the grasslands. Some of those encounters had ended a little too close for comfort. She swallowed hard and looked away just as Ivy appeared with a steaming bowl of stew and a large loaf of bread on one tray and a pint on the other. Thankful for the distraction, Raedea smiled up at Ivy and then picked up a spoon to sample the food. She glanced back over at Sath and noticed that he was staring again, but this time at her food. She sighed and after a quick word of thanks to the Gods, she put down her spoon.
“When was the last time you ate?” she asked. The Qatu looked up at her and then quickly looked away. “Seriously. When?”
“Why?”
“Because I have well more than I need here and if you are hungry I would like very much for you to have some of this food, that’s why,” she replied as matter-of-factly as she could. The truth was that she saw the hunger in his eyes and she did not want to become his dinner once she was alone and unprotected in her room for the night. Better that he should have a full belly if she could make that so.
“Why?” he asked, cocking one furry eyebrow. “You afraid I’ll eat you instead?” Again, his face split into a grin but this time he gave her a clear view of all of his teeth and she jumped involuntarily. His face fell. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He turned his attention back to his pint.
Raedea was horrified at her own reaction. What would her Goddess say to see her treating this creature with something less than mercy? She stood up from the table, gathered the bowl of stew and the bread and took it over to Sath’s table. Without a word, she put the food in front of him and then turned back to the table to get her pint. When she turned back, he was staring up at her. “Let me get another spoon,” she said, “and we can share it.”
Several hours later, they were still at the table. Ivy had long since retired for the evening, having given the two of them two large casks of ale and several helpings of stew and bread before she left. “So, what did you say you did to that lowlife Havens?” Sath asked, his words slurring a bit. He had taken off his cloak and Raedea marveled at how human his appearance was, though covered head to clawed toes in fur. She also wondered at how she was no longer as afraid of him as she had been only a few short hours earlier.
“I didn’t do anything,” she said, cheeks flushing slightly with embarras
sment. “I am only permitted to kill when it is in defense of my life and there is no other option available to me or in order to have food to eat. And with the latter, I eat mostly plants and other foods that I can obtain without killing.”
“Like that stew we just polished off?” Sath said, leaning forward a bit and grinning. Rather than flinching like she would have before, Raedea leaned in and returned his grin.
“Touché, good sir,” she said, chuckling. “I suppose I take some comfort in the fact that it was not I that dispatched the cow that provided the beef for the stew, but not much in truth.” She ran a finger around the rim of the bowl, collecting any bit of stew that was left there, and then popped her finger into her mouth, sucking on it for a moment before she spoke. “But enough of me, what is your story, Sath?”
“Oh, not nearly as interesting as yours,” he said, picking a bit of food out of his teeth with one of his claws. “I fear it would bore both of us to sleep.’
“Then tell me about your people,” Raedea said, leaning on her elbows with her fingers steepled under her chin. “You know that I have never met anyone like you before. What is it your race is called again?”
“Qatu. I have always thought it was ridiculously obvious that we are called Cat-Too,” Sath replied, chuckling. “I guess at some point it was thought we wouldn’t be able to remember who we were otherwise.”
“Well, didn’t the god or goddess that created you give you that name?”
Sath raised an eyebrow at her. “No deity created the Qatu,” he replied, clearly amused. “Do they not teach you the history of our world in your homeland?”
Raedea’s brow wrinkled as she frowned at him. “Of course they do. However, forgive me, Sath, so little is known about your kind that we are only taught that you exist, but not much more. You are as exotic to us as the dragonkind.”
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