“Are all you druids this melancholy and depressing?” said a growly voice to her right, coming from the darkness just inside the tunnel. Gin stopped in her tracks, straining to recognize the speaker because even with the improved vision of her kind, she could not see into the pitch dark. “If you’re not yelling at me to stop killing bears, you’re whining about your forlorn lives...it truly becomes old.”
Gin closed her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Show yourself,” she said, hissing the words. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she took a step back from the dark corner.
“All right, if you’re sure you’ve got a good grip on that blade,” the voice said, chuckling. A tall Qatu male stepped out of the shadows to the right of her. Gin took a sharp breath in and raised her sword a bit.
“Leave me be,” she said, squaring her shoulders and resuming her pace. The tip of one shiny metal claw pressed into her chin and she stopped. “I said leave me be!”
“I wish I could, truly, but you see I’m on a bit of a mission and... well... you’re the mission at the moment,” said the giant feline. “Druids like you tend to have lots of goodies stored away in all those backpacks, and I’m in need of some food and drink. Hand them over.”
“This is not a wise decision, you… beast,” Gin said, trying to sound braver than she was. “You will let me pass.”
The Qatu laughed, and there was a purring growl audible in his voice. “Bah, some druid you are. I grow weary now, hand over the backpacks.” Gin gaped at him for a few moments, making him laugh harder. “Do you think that I have never seen druid magic, up close and personal? I have had it directed at me more than I would care to admit. Now then, backpacks, if you don’t mind?” Keeping the claw pressed against her jawbone, he waggled his other clawed fingers at her and she tried not to flinch.
“They are not yours to take,” Gin said angrily and shoved her way past the giant cat. The tip of the claw that had been lightly grazing her skin drew a jagged gash up the side of her face and she gasped aloud in pain but kept moving.
“Can’t anything be easy?” the Qatu exclaimed, clearly exasperated. He inhaled deeply, the smell of fear in her blood teasing the vicious beast inside him. “Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it?” He approached Gin rapidly and grabbed at one of her packs, knocking her to the ground as the shoulder strap broke. As she gathered herself back up, she saw the cat digging hungrily through her belongings.
“Give that back!” she shouted as she ran at the feline, her blade raised above her head to strike. From the shadows ahead bounded a large tiger that halted in front of her, blocking her access to the Qatu who was now hungrily devouring her food. “That’s all the food I have!” She began reciting the words that brought fire down upon all living creatures in range, but the tiger continued to stare her down and she fell silent. She stared back at it with a mixture of curiosity and terror. It seemed to be guarding the larger cat as he ate.
“Well… it’s more food than I’ve had in weeks, my lady,” he mumbled, his mouth full of berries and marmalade sandwiches, “and you don’t look like you need this much food anyway, tiny thing that you are.” He stood and wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, then continued to look Gin over. “Aye, I think I could carry you around in my pocket...if I had pockets.”
Gin winced...Dorlagar had said the same thing to her when he first met her. She frowned, trying to push back against the tears that were coming. As her face contorted, the wound on her cheek stung and she felt salty tears well up in her eyes. They flowed down into the wound and Gin scowled…now there would be no healing it, at least not completely.
“Fine,” she said. “Take the food; just give my packs and my money back. I have no wish to hurt you, good sir Qatu.”
“Sathlir,” he said just before swallowing another marmalade sandwich whole.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Qatunari,” she said.
“That’s my name, ya silly elf,” he said, clearly amused at her. “Sathlir Clawsharp, Bane of the Forest, at your service.” He downed the last sandwich, missing the horrified look that crossed her face, and eyed her other backpacks that she was clutching to her chest. “Good food there, but it left me awfully thirsty,” he said, moving toward her. Gin pitched one of the backpacks at him and ran back down the long passageway the way she had come. She had no desire to engage the Bane of the Forest this day or any day, if she was honest.
Sathlir watched her run, laughing as he sent his pet bounding after her. “So you’ve heard of me?” he called after her through chuckles. “That ought to give her a good run to the other side of the mountain if she doesn’t watch for the turn,” he chuckled. Retrieving the backpack she had thrown at him, he opened it and pulled out a flask of water. As he sipped from it, he rummaged further through her pack. It was not really stealing; she had technically given him the pack. A leather book caught his eye and he pulled it out of the pack. He sat down and opened the book.
“Oh, this looks like a journal,” he chuckled. “This should be stunning...” He flipped through the pages, skimming them as he went. “Blah blah blah, foraging in the forest, spell casting...how boring it must be to be a druid,” he said as he continued reading. A paragraph caught his eye, and he stopped to read it carefully.
“I have failed to avenge my father and mother, but how could I have ever succeeded?” Sath read aloud. “How can I kill Dorlagar when I barely have it in me to harm any living thing? Where do I go from here, other than a slow march to my own demise?” Sath looked up from the book a moment, furrowing his brow. “Well then,” he said, “this will keep me occupied until Rae comes back with our money from the last job.” Kicking his giant feet up on to the pile of now empty backpacks, he continued to read. His pet had returned, having given her a good scare, and settled at his feet.
Gin tried to count her steps as she ran, fearing that she had entirely missed the turn that would lead her out of the mountain on the same side and not cause her to have to start completely over again. Once she could no longer hear the giant tiger breathing as it bounded along behind her, she dared to slow down and look over her shoulder. It was gone and she was able to take a deep breath, so she slowed to a walk just as she came upon the turn. She ducked around the corner as if it was an alleyway and leaned against the wall, her breath coming in gulps.
She had lost everything to that Qatu. What else could go wrong? She had no food or water now, and all of her maps and belongings had been in those packs. She did not dare go back, however. He was the Bane of the Forest, and it had to be just dumb luck that he had been satisfied with just her backpacks and not taken her life as well. Gin started walking again, and before long allowed herself another moment to rest.
“Sath?” Raedea’s voice rang off the walls of the tunnel as she walked along, the money she had gotten from trading the goods from their last hunt jingling in the pouch she had tied under her cloak. “I told him to meet me just here,” she complained to herself as she arrived at the opening to the tunnel that led into the mountain. She paced back and forth, worried more than annoyed that he was not there to meet her as he had promised.
“Keep your hair on, Rae,” Sath said from the shadows just inside the tunnel entrance. “I’m here, just keeping a low profile, you know?”
Raedea grinned at him. “I know, I was just worried, but LOOK!” She untied the strings of the pouch and handed it to him. “That last time out was very profitable. No more ‘borrowing’ things from druids or rangers for you…Sath?” She leaned in close to look at him and he jumped away, furiously wiping away the marmalade that he knew was on his face. “Is that jam?”
Sath blushed to the roots of his hair. “Yes…well, no, it’s marmalade actually.”
“And where did you…oh, Sath, you didn’t!” Raedea’s grin melted away as she stared up at him. “Was anyone… Did you…”
“No, I didn’t kill the wood elf,” he replied. Raedea opened her mouth to speak but Sath held up a clawed finger. “She left with a
ll her limbs intact and I got a snack to tide me over until you got back. Everyone wins! I promised you that I would stop killing them, and I have.”
“But that implied that you would also stop stealing from them, Sath.” The disappointment was heavy in her voice and in her gaze. Sath hung his head. “Well? Is there anything left or did you eat it all?”
“I ate all that was food. There’s a spell book in here and a journal and some other stuff but…yeah, I ate all the food.” Raedea held out her hand and he hung the backpack on it. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Which way did she go?”
“Why?”
“Sath…”
“Fine.” Sath ran a hand over the top of his head, clearly frustrated. “She headed back the way she’d come,” he said, gesturing down the tunnel toward the center of the mountain, “but there’s a turn down there that will bring her back out on this side if she didn’t miss it from running.”
“Why was she running? Oh, of course…” Raedea ran her hand across the tiger’s head and it pressed up into her palm, purring loudly. “I don’t know which is worse,” she said sadly. “The hunting full stop or the enjoyment you derive from it.”
“Aw, now darlin, I don’t really, you know that.” Sath sighed loudly. “When it comes down to me eating or them eating, I make a decision, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m making a decision this time, Cat,” she replied, handing him the backpack. “Take this back to her.”
“You’re mad,” Sath said, chuckling. “She will run if she sees me, you know that.”
“You can run faster than she can,” Raedea reminded him. “Just head out here and go to the opening of the other tunnel and leave it there, in the middle of the path so she can see it.” Sath stared at her and then realizing that she was serious, sighed loudly and took off out the tunnel door. She sat down and began counting the money and dividing it up. About the time she was done, he appeared in the doorway. “Did you wait for her to pick it up?”
“Yes.”
“Did she see you waiting?” Sath growled a little under his breath. “Fine, of course she didn’t. Now then, here is your part of the money. Shall we go find a place to stay for the night?”
“After you, boss lady,” Sath said, making a clumsy and exaggerated bow that made Raedea laugh as she headed further down into the tunnel. He paused a moment before following her to tuck the journal into his own backpack. “I’m not giving this up just yet,” he whispered.
“Sath?”
“Coming!” He beat feet down the tunnel, catching up to Raedea and sweeping her up into his arms, making her laugh hysterically before putting her back on her feet. “It’s not very far to the outpost just outside the tunnel on the other side. Race ya!”
“There’s no way I can keep up with your long strides, cheater!” she called after him, chuckling as she watched him run on ahead.
After a very long time sitting pressed up against one of the walls, Gin finally plucked up the courage to leave the tunnel. Without her spell book, she found herself unsure of her magic, even the spells that she had long since memorized and used on a daily basis. However, she could not hide there in the safety of the tunnel forever, of this she was sure.
She stepped out of the tunnel and stared at the bag in the middle of the path in front of her. It was her backpack, the one she had thrown at the Qatu. Gin stopped, still as a statue, and set her kind’s ability to track her environment on high alert. A rustle in a nearby tree caught her attention but by the time she turned, there was nothing there. She took a few cautious steps toward the bag, certain that the Qatu would spring out and grab her as she touched it, and grabbed it as she ran in the direction that she hoped would lead her to the forest. She did not stop running until the tree line came into view, and even then she only slowed slightly. Aynamaede came into view and she slowed to a walk, gasping as she fought her aching lungs to breathe.
Finally, she felt safe enough to look behind her, though she knew that there was no one there. She stopped, overcome, and fell to her knees. “Mother,” she said, her hands out in front of her in supplication. “As your child and a protector of Orana, I come before you now to thank you for your protection both in the arena and in the mountain tunnels. While I am not sure that I deserve to have survived either, I am humbled by your presence and will devote my life and my work to your will as you reveal it to me.” She swallowed hard as memory of her failure left a bitter taste in her mouth. “I do not understand the path you set before my parents and their place in the aftermath of the Forest Wars, but I will do my best to learn. And Mother, thank you for your mercy in the form of the Qatu who not only did not end my life but also returned my things to me. I will do my best to show others the same mercy, including…” Gin paused a moment. She had almost said Dorlagar, but she did not believe that she could and knew that the All-Mother would not either. “Including the Bane of the Forest, may he be able to find the error in his path and correct it, as you will.”
Fourteen
“Two rooms, please?” Raedea said as she slid the coins across to the innkeeper. “Next to each other if possible.” The innkeeper nodded as his grubby hand closed over the money. He produced two room keys and slid them across the desk back to her.
“Fourteen and fifteen,” he said. “End of the hall.” He leaned over and winked at Raedea and the smell of his breath nearly caused her to gag. “Adjoining.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied and turned around to face Sath. A low, rumbly growl was coming out from under the hood that obscured his features from the patrons. They were as close to the homeland of the elves as he had been since his days as the Bane of the Forest, and they did not want to take any chances. “Will you have food and ale brought up to us?” The innkeeper nodded, winking at her again and chuckling.
“How can you stand to let him think that of you?” Sath hissed in her ear as they climbed the stairs. “Where I come from, females are revered, almost worshipped. Not gawked at and preyed upon, as they seem to be among you humans.”
“Because that wasn’t at all what you were doing with the druids and rangers, right? I mean, they were all males, right?” she replied. Sath fell silent. “I’m sorry, Sath, I’m just tired.”
“No, you’re right. Once again, you are right, Rae,” he replied, clearly chagrined. She handed him the key with the fob that had the number fifteen written on it and continued down the hall. “Rae, wait.”
“What now?” she asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she turned around.
“Give me fourteen,” he said. “That way you will be at the end of the hall and I will be between you and any males that saw you arrive.”
“Sath, really, I don’t see the…”
“Please, Rae.”
Raedea sighed. “Fine. Will you come eat in my room then, before I kick you out to stand guard or preserve my honor or whatever it is you will be doing for the rest of the night?” Sath nodded, beaming a toothy grin at her that made her laugh.
Several hours later, Raedea found herself unable to sleep. She had dozed off a few times to fitful dreams of her brother and their childhood and finally had given up and gotten out of bed. She wrapped her cloak around her and padded over to the door that joined her room to Sath’s and knocked. “Sath?” she whispered. “You up?” There was no response. She pushed on the door and found it unlocked, so she stuck her head in the doorway. “Sath?” Calling up some of the simple magic she had learned at the Temple, Raedea pushed her own energy out through her fingertips toward the candelabra on Sath’s dressing table and the candles lit. He was not in the room.
Raedea moved into the room, concerned. Surely he had not gone out. It was too risky, as the humans at this outpost traded with the wood elves of the forest and might recognize him. There were not that many Qatu in this part of the world. His cloak was gone, so that was good at least. Raedea had turned to go back to her room when she spotted a leather bound journal on his night table. She had never s
een it before, and her curiosity got the better of her so she walked over and picked it up.
“This must be that druid’s journal!” she exclaimed as she thumbed through the pages. “Oh, Sath, I thought you took this back…” Raedea’s knees felt weak as she came across a familiar name in the journal. “Dorlagar…it can’t be…” Leaning against one of the walls for support, she rifled through a few more pages looking for anything that would tell her if the Dorlagar in the journal was her brother, and soon found what she was looking for. “He only dreams of his sister, his twin, the other half of his soul, lost so many years ago.” She dropped the journal and backed up, her hand covering her mouth as the color drained out of her face. When she ran into someone behind her, she screamed until a fur-covered hand covered her mouth, silencing her.
“Rae, it’s me, shush now, what’s wrong, darlin?” Sath whispered in her ear. The whispered Qatu word meaning ‘darling’ or ‘loved one,’ underscored with a purr that he knew Raedea found soothing helped her relax in his arms, so he released her and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry, Rae, I know that position is frightening for you but I couldn’t let you keep screaming. It’s me, Sath; not that guard from Calder’s Port.” He tipped her chin up with one of his fingers until she looked him in the eye.
“I know who you are, Sath, it’s not that. What is this,” she asked, picking up the journal. Sath looked at it and hung his head. “You did not return this with the druid’s things. Why?”
He tried to snatch the journal from her hand but she was too quick and he caught a fistful of air. “It’s not important,” he said. “Why were you so afraid when I came up behind you?”
Wanderer Page 10
