by Sever Bronny
Suddenly Bridget’s knee broke through the snowdrift. A monstrous chunk of it began sliding down the slope, taking Bridget and Haylee with it, rucksack and all. Both clutched at each other and the rope while letting loose a gut-wrenching scream.
“Chaska, help!” Augum shouted, digging in his heels and leaning back along with Leera. Chaska grabbed it just as Bridget and Haylee hit the end of the rope and then slammed into the cliff face, yanking them hard. For a harrowing moment, Augum thought they were done for. Instead, he found himself standing on the very edge of the precipice, looking straight down, holding on for dear life and trying to stave off the awful vertigo sensation.
There was a piercing cry from below. “My leg!” Haylee gurgled.
“I’m slipping …” Leera said through gritted teeth.
“Can’t … hold … it …” Chaska said, groaning. “They’re … almost … here.”
“Um, excuse me!” Augum gasped at the beast. “Can … you … help … us!”
The creature cocked its head before dropping on all fours and pacing back to them. Augum glanced down the slope, realizing it wouldn’t get to them before the harpies. Below, Bridget shrieked and flailed, completely out of her mind, while Haylee tried to calm her, though her face was twisted with pain.
“Bridge … you’re … not … helping!” Leera said, but she only screamed louder and kicked harder.
The quickest of the harpies dove at Bridget.
“Watch out—!”
Bridget never even saw the harpy but her flailing boot connected with its ugly face. The thing fell, slamming against the slope a thousand feet down, tumbling the rest of the way.
No one cheered because there were two more right behind it.
“Grau!” Augum said when the next one dove for her. The air crackled a bit, a far cry from the thunderous explosion he was hoping for. It seemed apparent he needed the gesture and all his concentration for that.
The second harpy dove in for the kill.
“Watch out!” Leera shrieked as the thing dug its claws into Bridget, who screamed, flailing like a panic-stricken bird. Haylee, holding on with one hand, began punching and smacking the thing with her free hand, causing the rope to swing wildly.
It was all the rest of them could do to hold on.
Augum desperately struggled not to slip. “Fight it, fight it—!”
Bridget connected a fist into the harpy’s face and it let go, leaving her and Haylee to swing backward and slam against the slope wall, eliciting a painful yelp from Haylee. The other harpy was on Bridget almost immediately, tearing at her flesh like a hellhound. Blood began spraying as the second harpy dove for the girls.
“Pardon me,” said a gravelly voice as a shadow loomed over Augum. A huge white-furred arm reached over his shoulder and grabbed the rope. He yanked on it with little effort, shooting Bridget and Haylee away from both harpies’ jabs. They flew through the air, crashing onto the ridge.
One of the harpies circled and dove for Augum.
“Shyneo!” he shouted, now unencumbered by the rope. His hand lit up, along with his two degree rings. For a moment, he considered casting Centarro too, but it was too dangerous on such a knife-edge. He concentrated on his Shine extension. As soon as the harpy was close enough, he dodged, managing to grab one of its clawed legs. A current shot through him and the thing yelped, shaking violently for a moment, before falling out of sight. It recovered some ways below, soaring back around like an eagle.
Damn, the shock hadn’t been strong enough.
The other one was making a pass, this time at Leera.
“Be careful now,” said the white beast, and leapt into the air, catching the harpy by the throat, punching it in the face so hard its neck snapped. He flung it off the ridge before even landing.
At that moment, the one Augum shocked dove at Haylee, only to be pierced by an arrow from Chaska’s bow. It twirled and slammed into the ridge at Haylee’s feet. She screamed and began to frantically kick it with her good leg. Chaska grabbed her, whispering soothingly, “It’s all right, it’s dead, I got you.”
“That is all of them I think,” the beast said.
Augum snagged his mitts and shot over to help Bridget, who lay on the ridge bleeding, barely conscious.
“She’s hurt bad,” Leera said. “We need a healer.”
The beast studied them. “Perhaps you five should not climb so high on your academy excursions …”
“Uh, sir, can you please help us with our friend?” Augum asked, trying not to be rude. “We can’t carry her ourselves on this ridge.”
“ ‘Sir’ indeed.” The beast sighed, sounding like broken bellows. “Untie her then.”
They quickly did. Bridget screamed, holding her side, as blood flowed freely onto the snow. The beast reached down and effortlessly picked her up with one arm, walking off without another word, her blood staining its shiny white fur.
Meanwhile, Chaska slung his bow and gently lifted Haylee, who moaned with pain. The three of them followed the beast as fast as they dared while safely navigating the ridge.
The Snow Beast’s Lair
The cave was enormous, three times the height of a man, furnished with two tables, one much larger than the other; a chair; and a series of shelves, all carved into the mountain. Trinkets, parchments and over-sized tomes sat on the shelves. In the corner was a large fire pit; to the side, a massive cabinet made of rough timber planks.
Augum felt like a tiny child in comparison to these oversized things.
The beast set Bridget down on the giant table. Augum had to discard his rucksack and food bag to climb it, giving Leera a hand up. Chaska then hoisted a moaning Haylee up, helped by Augum and Leera.
“I think my leg is broken,” Haylee said through gritted teeth. “Oh my word that hurts.”
“Are you bleeding?” Augum asked, accepting his rucksack from Chaska and placing it under her head.
“Don’t think so. Check on Bridget.”
Augum raced to Bridget’s side, already attended by a panicking Leera.
“Put … hand … on … it. Pressure …” Bridget mumbled, pale as snow.
“She lost a lot of blood,” the beast said in a casual manner, taking a seat on a giant rock chair. He picked up a sharp tool and a stone carving of a human. “She will probably die. I would not even bother, if I were you.”
The beast’s words were poison to Augum’s ears. “No, she can’t, we won’t let her—!” Augum placed his hands over the wound on the right side of her stomach. “Please, you have to help us!” Blood squished through his fingers, instantly reminding him of Mya. He felt like he was going to throw up.
“I already helped you.” The beast didn’t even look up. “You owe me as it is, lowlander.”
“Other … one … too …” Bridget mumbled, gesturing at a bloodstain on her left shoulder.
Leera carefully removed Bridget’s coat and gasped at the large gash. She quickly pressed her hands on it while Bridget’s eyelids closed halfway.
“What can I do, what can I do!” Chaska said in a frantic voice.
“You can sweep the floor,” the beast said, holding up the figurine and inspecting it close. “Then you can make a fire, put some snow in my mug and melt me some tea.”
“What—! No … I mean, what can I do to help Bridget!”
“You can watch her die, Henawa. But be grateful, for the other one will live. Though painful, it appears the break has not pierced her skin. Keep her leg raised and cool with ice.”
Chaska hesitated, glancing desperately between Bridget and Haylee.
“Go ahead, we have her,” Augum said.
Chaska nodded and jumped off the table, soon returning with armfuls of ice. He raised Haylee’s leg onto his rucksack while she howled in pain, and applied snow to the break.
Leera’s freckled cheeks were stained with tears. “Damn you, you … you mangy ball of fur! Why won’t you help us with Bridget!”
The beast glanced at her, and
for the first time Augum had a good look at it. It had the face of a wolf but lacked the ears. Its body was that of a massive snow bear. Its paws had pink skin hidden amongst a nest of protective fur. It crossed its great legs and cocked its head.
“That was rude. It is no wonder you lowlanders die by the dozen. You have no respect for anyone, do you? I am particularly annoyed that you are warlocks that cannot even seem to help themselves.”
Augum watched as Bridget’s eyes closed. “Bridge, stay with us! Bridge—!” He turned to the beast. “Sir, please, we’re too young to teleport, and none of us know how to heal arcanely! Please, we’ll do anything!”
“Anything, you say?”
“Anything!” they cried in unison.
The beast slowly put down his figurine and sauntered over. He leaned over Bridget’s limp form, towering above them, black snout glistening. “Hmm … I would say it is not worth your time. She is very close to death indeed. Are you sure you want to go through all this trouble?”
“YES!” they shouted.
“My my, excited little creatures you are. Very well then, but I cannot make any promises.”
“Just do something already!” Leera cried.
The beast turned to her. “I do not like this one.”
Leera gestured wildly. “Fine, I don’t care, just do something! HELP HER!”
“Please remove your hand then.”
“What? Why—”
“Do it.”
Leera hesitantly did so. The beast leaned near, closed his eyes and blew frosty breath at the wound—it froze over instantly. He then repeated this for the other wound.
“Now fix a fire,” the beast said, going back to his chair.
“What, wait, this is only temporary—” Augum said.
“Of course it is, and you are wasting time. Make a fire so we can continue.”
Augum, Leera and Chaska jumped off the table and rushed to the fire pit and pile of cut logs. They immediately began building a fire, tripping in their hurry.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Chaska mumbled. “I can’t think straight.”
“There’s lantern oil in my rucksack—” Leera said, knocking over some logs. The beast looked up from his carving and frowned.
“Right.” Chaska ran off.
“Don’t forget the flint and steel—” Augum called. Chaska, already returning with the sloshing oil lantern, skidded and doubled back. Meanwhile, Augum used an iron knife the size of a sword to shave off kindling, stuffing the bundle into the center of the logs.
“Go go go—” Chaska said, handing him the lantern. Augum opened it and poured out the oil all over the fire. Chaska struck the flint and steel, immediately igniting the logs.
“All right, now what?” Augum quickly asked.
“An awful waste of lantern oil.” The beast’s eyes narrowed as he carefully carved an intricate detail on his figurine. “Boil some water.”
Augum rushed back to the table, climbed on top, and grabbed a bucket-sized iron mug. He heaved it over to Chaska, who laboriously carried the heavy thing outside, scooping in armfuls of snow. Then he hobbled back and placed it on the fire.
“How is she, Augum?” Haylee gasped as Augum readied to climb back down.
“Not well,” he replied, continuing his descent. “Not well at all …”
The trio gathered round the fire, wringing their hands.
“Do you know what your kind calls our kind?” The beast asked.
Augum wanted to say a troll, but didn’t dare.
The beast blew at his carving, creating a small dust cloud. “A troll. Do you know how that makes us feel?”
“Pretty bad, probably,” Augum replied, trying not to rush him by asking what the next step in the process was.
“Quite right.”
“So … what’s the next step?” Augum asked, willing the water to boil faster.
“The water boils.”
“No, I mean after that.”
“You make two Gurgan salves, or what you call poultices.”
“What kind of ingredients do we need?”
“I have all but one—bread.”
“We have that!” Leera ran off to her rucksack to retrieve some journey bread.
“What else then?” Augum asked.
“How impatient you are …”
When Augum gave no reply, the beast sighed and stood. He wandered over to his cabinet and opened the door, withdrawing four jars labeled in an unfamiliar tongue. The first had what looked like crushed pine needles, the second a brown powder, the third a gel, and the last looked like bran.
The beast walked over and placed them before Augum. He pointed at the lid of each jar as he spoke. “Since I am guessing you cannot read Wolven, it is one part this jar, one part this jar, two parts this one, and one half this one.”
“Leave it to me,” Leera said, shoving the bread at Augum.
“What do I do?” Chaska asked.
Leera’s eyes never left the water. “You can find a stir stick—”
Chaska scavenged an oversized spoon.
The water finally boiled and Leera began pouring in the contents, mumbling portion sizes. “There, done! Stir, Chaska, stir—!”
“So now what?” Augum asked, unsure how to address the giant wolf thing.
“Must I do everything for you?” The beast paced over to his cabinet, withdrew some coarse linen, and, using his sharp teeth, neatly ripped it into smaller pieces. “Place the bread into two separate strips. Pour the salve onto the bread. Wrap them loosely and press them against the wounds.”
Leera snatched the strips from the beast and the bread from Augum. Augum, meanwhile, climbed the table and positioned himself over Bridget. Her wounds were already bleeding again. “Ready when you are, Lee!” he called.
“Just a moment,” Leera said, finishing the first one. “Got it—here!” She used Telekinesis to hover the poultice right into Augum’s waiting hand. The beast watched from his chair, an amused look on its face, while Augum positioned the poultice with shaking hands. “Everything’s going to be fine, Bridge,” he whispered, trying to ignore the fact her skin was getting paler by the moment.
“Incoming!”
Augum looked up just in time to catch the other one. He promptly pressed it onto the other wound.
“All right, what next?” he asked.
“My, must we be so needy? Well, I suppose you could make blood soup.”
“What’s that?”
“It will help the girl replenish her blood, obviously. You are not one of the brighter lowlanders, are you?”
Augum didn’t care how many insults the beast threw. “Just tell us how to make it!”
“You will owe me even more, are you sure you—”
“YES!” they shouted again.
The beast strolled over to his cabinet once again, reached for the top shelf and withdrew a golden vial. “This is a very expensive potion, you realize.” He handed it to Leera. “One part Golden Vitae, ten parts blood.”
“Where’s the blood?” Leera asked.
The beast snorted a laugh. “Well it is not coming from me.”
Leera gaped at him. “You mean … fine, whatever it takes!” She used Telekinesis to send the vial to Augum.
He caught it. “And bring the knife!”
Leera grabbed the sword-sized iron knife while Chaska snagged a bowl.
Leera tossed the blade onto the table and proceeded to climb up. Augum didn’t wait for her—he handed Chaska the vial and grabbed the blade, running back to kneel over the bowl. Leera shot over and snatched the Golden Vitae from a hesitant Chaska. She uncorked it and began pouring a measured amount into the bowl.
“All right, now we need ten parts—” but before Leera even finished, Augum sliced his palm open with the sword-knife. Haylee gasped, while Chaska turned as pale as Bridget and had to sit down, mumbling something about the sight of blood. Augum let the blade fall to the ground with a clang. The cut bled profusely—Leera snatched h
is wrist and held it over the bowl. As his blood dripped into the Golden Vitae, it began to smoke and bubble.
The smell was nauseating. He chanced a look at the cut. It was like a broken fountain the way it gushed, and far larger than he had intended.
“That’s going to take a while to heal,” Leera muttered. “And leave a big scar.”
“Don’t care,” Augum blurted, head already spinning.
Chaska groaned.
“Hey, big lug, mind fetching a bandage?” Leera said without looking away from the bowl.
“Oh … right.” Chaska heaved himself to his feet, swayed a little, and ran off to fetch another strip of linen.
Leera smirked. “You’d think for someone so big he’d have a bit more … what’s the word?”
“Fortitude?” Augum mumbled, trying to fight nausea.
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Leera checked the bowl. “Almost there, hang on …”
“Think I need to lie down …” he managed to mumble as black walls began closing in on his vision.
Chaska climbed back up, holding a strip of linen. “I got him—!” he said, running and catching Augum just as he fell back. The last thing Augum remembered was the frightened expression on Leera’s face.
Sometime later he woke to a quiet cave, hand bandaged. “How’s Bridget?” he wheezed.
“We fed her the entire concoction,” Leera replied. She sat beside Bridget, patting her forehead with a damp cloth. Chaska sat just behind, awkwardly wringing his hands.
Haylee lay nearby, smiling at Augum. “I think we saved her.”
“Here, take over,” Leera said, handing Chaska the cloth.
“Oh … I don’t know if I—”
“Stop being useless. Just be gentle.”
Chaska swallowed and applied the cloth to Bridget’s forehead with a shaking hand. Leera, meanwhile, inspected Augum’s palm. “Bandage is holding for now.” She turned her attention to Haylee. “How’s the leg?”
Haylee winced. “It’s going weirdly numb, but still hurts like a storm.”
“Splint …” Augum whispered, too weak from the blood loss to speak louder. Sir Westwood had taught him how to splint a broken leg, but it was obvious he would have to resign himself to being a passive observer for a little while.
