Bloodletting Part 2

by Peter J. Wacks

  Sven completed his circuit while she was feeding Kat. “It’s the same all around. Whatever is in there is huge, Halli. This ring has to be over a mile around.”

  Nodding, she glanced up to him. “That’s … impressive. Can you help Laney with the kids while I work on Kat? We can figure out what to do next after I have some time, ’kay?”

  “Sure. Sounds good.” He headed over to Laney.

  When she finished feeding Kat, she knelt and placed palms on either side of the girl’s head. Clearing her mind, she pulled strength from her surroundings and let her affinity flow into her friend’s body. As usual, she detected nothing wrong with her, but Kat’s spirit felt distant. Disconnected. Not missing, but not present. Almost as if hidden … or camouflaged. Not for the first time, she wondered if this was what the remnants of a spirit severing felt like. Victims of a severing usually died on the spot, but maybe something had been different with Kat.… Her thoughts drifted back to their captivity and then the journey here, searching for clues.

  Halli’s pulse quickened as she thought of the Geist panther. It had eluded her senses, not the same way as Kat’s spirit seemed hidden, but similarly enough, until Halli stretched her affinity a different way. She had tried to resonate because the panther had blended in with its surroundings, both to hunt and to protect itself. There, but not there.

  She drew most of her Geist out of Kat and simply held it within her, offering a connection to anything or anyone around her. The tendril connected to Kat resonated with that invitation. To her inner senses, the forest glowed with life, as did the other Jaegen survivors. In the distance, the orocs emanated their own mass of energy. Whatever was in the heart of the Rocmire emanated a massive amount of Geist.

  She didn’t know how long she knelt, spirit open, waiting for a response. It could’ve been minutes … hours … days. Kat’s spirit stirred and reached back. It caressed her Geist, testing her. Would she fight? Would she flee? Did she present a danger or a blessing?

  Halli caressed in return and waited again, hoping her message got through. It’s safe. You can come out now. No one here will hurt you, I promise.

  Kat’s spirit suddenly grabbed hold of her Geist, hard and fast. Halli pulled back in instinct, but Kat held on tight, a painful embrace. The more Halli yanked away, the more of Kat dragged along.

  “Halli!” Sven and Laney yelled her name in the distance.

  Someone shook her shoulders. The connection between her and Kat snapped, and awareness flooded back into her. She opened her eyes, sucking lungfuls as if she’d just surfaced from a deep lake. Sven and Laney knelt on either side of her, expressions a mix of concern and panic.

  “Are you okay?” Sven asked.

  Halli looked down at Kat’s head still cradled in her hands. Katerine’s eyes opened as well, and she breathed deep—a breath she released in a long, terrible wail.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Sibyl Nan

  The boys would be the death of her, Sibyl knew. They had no sense of what it meant to be an outlaw, of having to take drastic measures to survive. In a lot of ways they just plain had no sense. Of course, it could’ve been because their outlandish story was true, but she doubted it.

  Those two couldn’t escape a foot-deep hole in the ground if they dug it themselves, much less an oroc camp. She still had no idea how they’d managed to get so deep into the forest, and had been tempted to write them off as outlandish liars, despite their boyish charm.

  But then her damned perception got in the way. It always did. There were truths behind these boys that weren’t being spoken. And they were useful. The two major things that ate at her were that their affinities shone strong to her eyes, and she always knew when someone lied to her.

  Well … almost always.

  Some masters of deception back in Sandomere could fool even a Prios with enough practice. The boys, though, were different. Naïve children, yes, but hardly liars. So unless her affinity had failed her in a massive way, it meant they had told the truth about an oroc attack on their village. Hearing of renewed conflict with the forest dwellers made her all the more uneasy, and the boys didn’t seem to understand what would happen to them all if the Rocmire clans found them. It might even be worse than being caught by Riktos. Race tensions were something best left in the past, and had been avoided since the Scaladrin war. She kept jogging as the thoughts ran through her head.

  They made good time, at least. After their initial mad dash for freedom, Malec and Pavil had gained a measured pace and kept up with little difficulty. Half a day out and they’d moved beyond Admired territory, which meant the edge of the forest stood four days out, at most. The animal trail they followed helped speed their progress. If it veered too far off their way, she would just find another.

  She stopped and drew a water skin from her pack. The boys caught up and slaked their thirst as well. The trees around them grew thinner and less packed together compared to the Admired camp, where groves could form impassable walls. The Rocmire didn’t just thin as you moved from the heart of the forest, it got smaller too.

  “I’m hungry,” Pavil said as she stoppered her water skin and resumed walking. “I miss Jaimson’s jerky.” She understood how he felt, though she’d warned him not to eat all of his rations the first day. To no avail, the boy had a bottomless pit for a stomach.

  “I thought he said he would teach you how to make it?” Malec said.

  “He did. Things just … well, you know. We’re on the move. Can’t really stop to make jerky. Besides,” Pavil waved around, “no rocboar.”

  Malec tapped his sword. “Maybe I can get us something.”

  “A little fresh meat would be welcome,” Sibyl said. “Though we’d have to eat it raw, as we’re not stopping long enough for a fire.”

  Both boys paled. According to their story they had eaten plenty of raw meat over the winter, but neither relished the idea of ever experiencing that again.

  “I still have those mushrooms,” Pavil said, pulling a few withered growths from his pack.

  “I told you those are poisonous,” Sibyl said.

  He frowned down at the mushrooms. “Are you sure? They look delicious.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you eat one and find out? But, if you do, I’m not carrying you.”

  At her next step, an explosion of wings and loud coos caught her off guard as several pheasant burst into the air from a bush. She glowered as they flew off. Then a slim object flashed through the air, and one of the birds squawked as it tumbled to the ground, skewered by Malec’s sword.

  Malec whooped as he ran for the downed fowl. Pavil laughed and sped after him.

  “Hope you boys like raw fowl,” she called after. They didn’t seem to hear over the noise of their celebrating. “Could you be a little quieter about it?” No good. Her curses turned acidic as she stomped after them.

  She parted a curtain of leaf-laden branches in time to see them locate the bird. Malec held it up and they both cheered. Her lips twitched in an involuntary smile. She moved to join them when she heard it—voices and movement somewhere behind them. Striding forward quickly, she slashed her hand through the air then went prone. The boys caught her motion and fell silent, dropping to the ground beside her.

  “What is it?” Malec whispered as he scanned their surroundings.

  She held a finger to her lips and listened, opening her Affinity fully to enhance her perceptions. While distant, the voices clarified enough for her to make out.

  “Stop complaining and keep searching.” Riktos.

  “I can’t. I’m exhausted,” someone said. It sounded like Aber. “I keep losing focus, and even when I get a sense of them, it slips away right after. I need a nap.”

  “I can arrange a permanent one, if you’d like, you worthless rat.”

  “I told you we should’ve brought Corie. He could’ve tracked when I needed to rest, Riktos.”

  Void take them, how had they caught up so fast? Sibyl di
dn’t hear any others with them and hoped Riktos hadn’t brought a Volcon. If so, they’d be spotted quick enough by their body heat.

  She motioned for the boys to follow and started crawling, cutting away from the path they’d been following. She should have known better than to use it. With any luck, Riktos and the others would continue on, too far for Aber to sense them. She prayed to Opion to hide her and the boys from their sight just a little longer.

  They crawled for nearly an hour before Sibyl told them to stop. She lay there, listening to the sounds of the forest. Once she was sure no one tracked them, she rose and dusted herself off.

  “We’ll need to go straight north from here,” she said as the boys stood. “I’m not sure how he knew we’d go northwest. Maybe a lucky guess—”

  The boys froze. In fact, everything around her froze, even all sound, as if she’d plugged fingers into her ears. Ghostly replicas of Malec and Pavil continued cleaning the debris from their clothes, their voices hollow and echoing. Ephemeral images of the occasional falling leaf or swaying branch mimicked the movements of their stilled counterparts.

  She hated it when the visions came this way. Usually she guided them in a trance to control the flow of what she saw, but the impromptu foresights had their purpose. They almost always warned of an imminent threat, and she’d learned to respond to them without question. It was her affinity’s way of protecting her.

  Branches snapped and heavy footfalls reverberated as the transparent copies of Malec and Pavil turned toward the disturbance. Treetops shook and fell over as something bore down on them, but the vision dissipated before she saw the cause.

  The boys moved again, their ghostly doubles gone. They started to banter, but she snapped fingers in their faces.

  “Quiet.”

  They went still. The birds in the trees had gone silent. It was all she needed.

  Grabbing their shoulders, she hauled them into motion.

  “Run! Don’t stop.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Malthius Reynolds

  The road to Mirewatch remained absent of travelers other than Reynolds, Andros, and their people. They’d left behind any clothing or gear that could associate them with Drayston and fashioned a story about being ex-military sell-swords traveling to Vuldaramere to find work as bodyguards for the many nobles in that great city. A common enough trade for retired soldiers and a story often left unquestioned. Of course, they only needed the cover until they reached the forest, and their travels had been uneventful so far.

  As they rode, Reynolds squirmed in his saddle. He’d spent years on horseback since his earliest recruit days, but the saddle under him was newly fashioned. A necessity since all Drayston riding gear had the house symbol imprinted it—a hawk in flight before the sun.

  “I’d almost rather be on foot,” he mumbled as the horses trotted down the shade-speckled road.

  “What’s that?” Andros asked, turning back in his saddle.

  “Oh, this new saddle.” He shifted again. “Might as well be riding on a log.”

  Andros chuckled. “I must admit, I hadn’t been in a saddle for almost a year before I left Aldamere for Tetra. The first few days left me fairly … tender.”

  It was Reynolds’ turn to laugh. “It never used to bother me when I was younger. I grew up on horseback, so to speak, but lately …”

  “From the Sandomere territory then?”

  Rapidly approaching hoofbeats from the road behind them interrupted Reynolds’ reply. The men wheeled their mounts, hands on their weapons. Three riders, one of them almost as large as Andros, crested the rise behind them and slowed as they neared.

  “Do you know who the blacksmith is?” Andros asked.

  “I was about to ask you the same question.” Reynolds said as he raised his hand in greeting. The riders came to a stop just behind them.

  “Afternoon, laggards,” Bealdred said, reigning in his mount. “Heard word that there’s two dung-shovelers lookin’ for aid in a quest to get ’emselves killed.”

  Andros lifted an eyebrow. “You were told correctly, but you’ll need your own shovel. Who are your companions?”

  Bealdred waved at the others. “This is Alleen Faulk and the other is our soon-to-be Lord Oltarian—”

  “Just Oltarian,” the young man said.

  “Good to have you with us,” Reynolds said.

  “While I appreciate this gesture,” Andros said, “no Drayston forces are allowed south of Mirewatch by order of the king. Why not leave the castle with us though?”

  “Lieutenant Heiml transferred command of the corporals to you for the time being, Captain Bicks,” Bealdred said. “I figured rather than leavin’ all hurried, I’d see if anyone else was up for a romp.”

  Andros frowned at Oltarian. “My lord, your uncle will have my head on a platter if anything happens to you.”

  Oltarian rubbed down his horse’s neck. “Oltarian, please. I’ve already spoken with my uncle. He understands why I must do this. I have … made mistakes. Besides, anything that might happen to me will likely happen to all of us.” The statement hung in the air. “I didn’t really give him a choice, short of throwing me in a cell.”

  “It’s an honor then,” Andros said with a slight bow. “All of you.”

  “Tetra is a peculiar little git, ain’t he?” Bealdred said. “Not many folks who’d ride out just for one boy. He reminds me …” The big man went quiet, eyes losing focus. “Well, we ain’t helpin’ him sittin’ here, are we?”

  He kicked his mount into a trot, and the others followed suit.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Sven Malshev

  Sven sat away from the other children, arms on his knees, back against a tree. Everything overwhelmed him lately, and he needed the space to bring his mind back in line. Kat had returned to them through a true miracle. None of them had believed she’d ever wake, and he’d even begun to wish, every so often, that’d she just slip away in the middle of the night and give them one less person to worry about. He’d told himself it’d be a mercy for her to rejoin the Aspects, rather than slowly starving to death or ending up a meal for a forest beast.

  Deep down, though, he knew this desire rooted in his selfishness, and the guilt and shame of it wrenched at him.

  He’d promised the others that he’d protect them, that he’d find a way to get them all home safe. Every dawn deepened his terror that he would fail. The Aspects held silent when he prayed to them, begging for help or guidance. Didn’t their plight mean anything to the ancient gods? Weren’t they supposed to intervene on their children’s behalf? Or did they look at Sven, see the hideous weakness in his soul, and so damn the rest for his shortcomings? He tried not to lose faith, but as their chances of survival dwindled, so did his belief. What good were gods who allowed such horrible fates to befall their faithful?

  What good was he?

  Tears threatened to spill forth, but he blinked them away. Even if the gods broke their promises, he had to do what he could to uphold his own. Only then could he die at peace.

  “Can I join you?”

  Sven jerked his head up, not having heard Halli’s approach. He dashed a last tear aside and nodded, hoping she didn’t notice. She settled cross-legged beside him, smiling softly as she looked to where Kat chatted with Laney. The girl still looked disoriented as Laney tried to catch her up on everything that had happened while she slept.

  “You should be sleeping,” Sven said to fill the silence. “I saw how your healing drained you.”

  “I tried. I could only sleep for a little while.” She covered her mouth as it split into a huge yawn. “’Sides, I had some help.”

  “M-hm.” Sven laughed, unsure what she meant by that. Halli joined him, and, for an all-too-brief moment, he forgot his worries.

  “When do we tell Kat about Leesa?” Halli asked after their laughter faded. The little girl’s death had been a blow to them all, though it was only the first of m
any.

  Sven sighed and looked up at the few stars he could see through the thick canopy. “When she asks about her I guess. Hopefully not until she’s much stronger.”

  Halli nodded. “So what do we do now?” She twiddled a blade of grass.

  Sven shook his head. “I don’t know. Now that the orocs have abandoned us, we could roam the forest for weeks and end up going in circles. Plus, we’ll run out of food long before we reach human lands. We have to try, though, right? I mean … we’ll die if we just stay here.”

  As the sun slowly descended toward the horizon, the forest sighed around them as they both contemplated their chances. Laney joined them after a few minutes. “Kat’s sleeping again. Hopefully not as long as she did last time. What’re you two talking about?”

  “Just wondering what to do now,” Halli said.

  “We go home, don’t we?” Laney asked as though it were a foregone conclusion. “I mean, we’ve spent months wishing we could escape, and now we just get to walk away.”

  “You know the way?” he asked gently.

  “Of course. Up.”

  Halli and Sven glanced at one another.

  “It isn’t so easy,” Halli said.

  “Why not?” Laney cupped her hands, forming a narrow bowl. “The forest is one big valley and we haven’t reached the bottom yet. That’s where the orocs don’t want us to go, so as long as we keep going up, we’ll eventually get out of the forest.”

  “We don’t have enough food to eventually get out,” Sven said.

  Laney clicked her tongue. “We’ve been living with orocs for months and you haven’t paid a bit of attention to what they forage? On our march here, I identified at least a dozen plants I’m sure are safe to eat, not to mention several types of fruit trees.”

  “Really?” Halli asked. “I didn’t know you were studying their diet.”