Ranger's Oath

by Blake Arthur Peel

  I do not argue. Whatever had made that horrible sound is close.

  And it sounds dangerous.

  We sprint across the open clearing, jumping over the decomposing remains of the deer and making for our mounts, which are tethered just outside of the wide ring of trees. When we arrive, both of them are pulling against their restraints, whining nervously and stamping their feet.

  "Whoa, whoa," Owyn says soothingly, spreading his arms wide and gently rubbing his fingers on the nose of his horse. "Easy there, girl."

  I wince, attempting to do the same with my mule, who seems to be even more spooked than Owyn's horse. Its eyes roll back in its head and it tugs hard against the reins, trying to break free. Please don't step on me, please don't step on me. I timidly touch its neck and try to speak comforting words, but it doesn't seem to do much good.

  Having successfully calmed his own horse, Owyn intervenes. "Easy now, easy." His touch soothes the mule almost immediately, as if he has a special connection with the animal. He seems to be rather good at this, I think to myself, chagrined.

  We quickly untie the reins and clamber atop our mounts, pulling away from the clearing as fast as we can.

  Another long howl echoes around us, reverberating off the wall of trees. The sound pierces my ears, igniting a very primal fear I have never felt before. It makes the hair on my arms stand on end, and my hand starts shaking as I hold the reigns in a white knuckled grip.

  "Try and keep up," Owyn shouts over his shoulder, before kicking his horse in the flanks and tearing off through the underbrush.

  Steeling myself, I do the same. The mule lurches forward and it is everything that I can do not to fall out of the saddle. Using my legs to guide the horse, I do my best to follow the mad ranger through the maze of trees, cringing as trunks and branches fly past me at terrifying speeds. The horse, frightened by the second howl, needs little urging to move swiftly, and we actually manage to maintain a good distance behind Owyn as we go.

  Despite the circumstances, I find that I am actually smiling as I ride. The exhilaration that I feel, the raw fear, is thrilling. It fills my stomach with butterflies and makes me feel alive. When Owyn looks back and sees the big grin on my face his eyebrows go up in shock. Then he turns away, shaking his head in bewilderment.

  A third howl rips through the air and my smile vanishes. That one sounded much closer.

  "It's gaining on us!" I call out, but I'm not sure that he can hear me. He merely keeps riding at the same reckless pace.

  The beat of the horse's hooves sounds thunderous in my ears, and the wind in whips my hair and my robes around me, cooling my skin and making my eyes water. A low-hanging tree branch nearly strikes my head, and I have to drop low in the saddle to avoid decapitation. That was a close one.

  I wonder just how long we can maintain this speed before one of us, or one of our horses, gets hurt.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see something dark moving through the trees alongside us. It is a massive shape that outpaces our horses, but when I turn my head I lose sight of it, thick bushes springing up to obscure my vision.

  "I think I see something!" I shout.

  Again, no response.

  Owyn turns sharply and I barely manage to follow him around the bend, my mount almost pitching to the side into some jagged rocks. Then he turns again, zig-zagging through the woods like a jackrabbit running from a pack of wolves.

  There it is again! A hulking blur of black speeds through the trees to my side, racing ahead of us and onto a small hillock, our path leading directly toward it.

  Then, when I do not think that things could possibly get any worse, Owyn yanks on his reins and brings his horse to a halt, giving me almost no time to stop myself. I pull back on the reins with all my strength, but my mount's hooves skid in the damp leaves of the forest floor, sliding off the path.

  We go down, careening into a gulley, and I can help but scream as I lose control of the animal. I hear a loud snap as I am thrown violently from the saddle, though luckily, I manage to land on a relatively soft blanket of ferns. The wind is blasted out of my lungs, though, and as I lay there on my back, trying to regain my breath, I can hear my mule screaming somewhere nearby.

  Dizzy and disoriented, I attempt to pull myself into a sitting position. Strong hands pull me to my feet and Owyn frantically asks if I am hurt. Concern is painted plainly on his face. Other than a painful ache in my side, which will probably turn into a nasty bruise, I feel fine. No broken bones that I can identify.

  Shaking my head, I look over at my pack mule, which is laying on its side beside a great oak. It paws the air with its front legs and whinnies painfully, one of its hind legs bent at an odd angle just below the knee.

  Broken.

  "The darkhound," Owyn whispers, knocking an arrow to his bow and pulling the fletching to his cheek.

  I follow his gaze up the sloping hill where a large creature is stepping out from behind the trees. It looks like a mix between a bear and a hunting cat, with powerful muscles rippling beneath its black fur. Its eyes glow with a feral red light, and it licks its razor teeth with a long, dripping tongue.

  It matches the picture in my book almost perfectly.

  Lifting up one of its paws, which is adorned with three curving, hook-like claws, it lets out another howl that is so loud it feels like my eardrums are about to burst.

  Owyn looses his arrow and it strikes the demon in the shoulder, burying itself deep into its flesh. Its howl is cut short by the shot, transforming into an angry shriek, and it turns its head to snap at the arrow sticking out of its flesh.

  He quickly draws and launches another arrow, this time sticking the monster in the leg.

  The beast staggers, then rears its ugly head at us and charges, running down the hill with a loping, otherworldly gait, talons ripping up soil with every step.

  Throwing down his bow, Owyn pulls out a hatchet from his belt and steps to the side. "Do something!" He shouts, holding up his weapon and bracing himself for impact.

  His shout forces me to come to my senses, and I pull the talisman from around my neck, filling myself with source energy as fast as I can. Horrified, I watch as the demon leaps the final dozen feet, its claws extended and it mouth opening wide.

  Without thinking, I throw out my hand and shout the command word, "Darian!" Immediately a shimmering radiant shield blossoms around Owyn's body, fitting around his form like a shimmering second skin, just as the darkhound collides with him and knocks him to the ground.

  The source energy leeches out of me in a burst and for a moment I am left dazed, but I force myself to stand upright and begin pulling more of it into myself using the talisman.

  The monster tears at the shield with its claws but for now my magic holds, its attacks bouncing harmlessly off its blue surface. I know that this will not last long, however, and so I start preparing myself to cast another spell.

  Roaring in frustration, the demon rakes at Owyns skin but is unable to puncture the shield. Owyn, struggling, tries unsuccessfully to pull himself out from under its immense weight.

  A ball of white energy fills my open hand and I raise it up, taking aim at the demon. "Taflegryn golau!" I shout, launching it with a whoosh.

  The force of the blast is enough to knock it off of Owyn. He staggers to his feet as it tumbles into some bushes several feet away. "Thanks for that," he breathes, his eyes wide and his hair askew.

  My magic missile had apparently ignited some dead leaves on the forest floor, because there is now a small blaze between us and the darkhound. I watch curiously as the demon attempts to cross the fire, only to leap back with a squeal as it burns its forefoot.

  Suddenly, I recall a spell that Elva had taught me out on the road, a powerful incantation called a radiant beam. I haven't had a chance to master it yet, but right now my options are severely limited.

  Perhaps it will be enough to kill this monster.

  "Get ready," I bellow, pulling in more source energy than I ever
have before.

  I'm going to be feeling this tonight, I think to myself grimly, setting my jaw.

  Owyn looks from the demon to his hatchet, then back to me. "How are we going to kill this thing?"

  "Leave that to me," I reply, holding my talisman in a vicelike grip. "You keep it distracted as long as you can."

  "Distract it?" His voice sounds incredulous.

  Fortunately, there is not enough time to argue. The darkhound uses its claw-like feet to kick dirt onto the fire, effectively putting it out. Its red eyes seem to glow even brighter as it looks up from the smoke and regards the two of us, growling deep within its throat.

  Then, like a viper striking a mouse, it charges at Owyn again, teeth barred in a wicked snarl.

  At the last moment he ducks to the side, narrowly avoiding the monster's claws as it goes in for the kill. The darkhound stumbles but does not fall, turning to find where Owyn had dodged.

  I continue filling myself with as much magic as I can possibly hold, letting it soak into my body the way a sponge soaks up water. I also make sure that I step off the side, giving the battling ranger enough space to fight our mutual foe.

  This time, the shadowling approaches Owyn more slowly, weaving its way through the ferns as it backs him up against a tree. "Zara," he says, raising his hatchet to ward it off. "If you're going to do something, do it fast!"

  He chops at the thing's head, but it dodges with a frightening display of speed, then raises one of its bladed paws in the air. With a savage swipe it strikes Owyn on the shoulder, knocking him back against the tree. Even from this distance I can hear his head smack against the bark, and I watch as his body crumples to the ground, his weapon falling uselessly from his fingers.

  Instead of going in for the kill, the darkhound turns its leering head towards me, jowls dripping with saliva. Its ruby eyes connect with mine and I feel my blood run cold. The spell is not quite ready to use. Swallowing, I face down my death and silently pray that the Light will aid me.

  I begin moving backward, trying to put as much distance between me and the demon as possible, but my progress doesn't amount for much. It begins snaking its way toward me, loping steps propelling it faster than I can move my feet. Its lips pull back in a vicious sneer, and a low growl emits from the back of its throat, filling me with an even greater sense of dread.

  As it closes the gap, I finally feel like I have gathered enough source energy. Raising both my hands, I shout at the top of my lungs, "Pajn taflegryn tân hud!"

  The energy that fills every fiber of my being gets sucked out of me, gathering at my fingertips with a searing intensity. I begin to lose sight of the looming darkhound and its teeth, the blinding light filling my vision in a brilliant, shimmering display. A ringing fills my ears, and I realize that I am screaming, the sound coming involuntarily from my throat as the magic consumes me.

  Just when I think that I am about to be overwhelmed, a thick shaft of light, more intense than anything I have ever created before, blasts from my hands and knocks me backward several feet.

  I land hard on the ground, momentarily stunned, and I think for sure that the shadowling is going to be on top of me any minute. I close my eyes and wait for my death... but the moment never comes.

  Opening my eyes just a crack, I prop myself up on my elbow and peak over to where the beast had been just seconds before. I see that it is laying in a twitching heap in the brush. When I fully open my eyes, I notice a great, smoking hole in the middle of its chest. That must be where my beam had hit it.

  Apparently the spell had worked.

  Pushing myself up, I stand on shaky legs and make my way over to where Owyn lay against the tree. For a brief, horrifying moment I think that he is dead. But as I approach his eyelids flutter open, focusing on my face against the light of the sun.

  "Did we win?" He asks weakly, lifting his head up from the ground.

  I can't help but let out a small laugh. "Yes," I say, smiling broadly despite my profound fatigue. "The demon is dead."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Owyn

  I pull myself up with a groan, my bruised ribs protesting at even the slightest movement.

  "Are you alright?" Zara asks me, her smile fading when she notices my pained expression.

  "I think so." I wince, looking down at my arm, which is throbbing painfully. My tunic is stained a deep red, and instantly I know that some of my stitches must have broken. I'm going to have to fix that when I get back into town, I think with annoyance.

  A quick inspection of the rest of my body reveals that the darkhound's claws did not cut me. In fact, my cloak and tunic have remained wholly intact.

  "Incredible," she says, leaning in and examining my cloak. "It seems that my radiant shield lasted long enough to protect you from any permanent damage. That was lucky."

  She looks into my eyes and grins, then quickly seems to realize how close she is standing to me, her hand resting on my chest. Her cheeks grow red and she takes a step back, clearing her throat.

  I look past her at the smoldering body of the demon in the bushes. Its red eyes have grown dim in death. "Eleven Hells, Zara! What did you do?"

  She shrugs her shoulders. "I cast a really powerful spell. It was my first time attempting it, so I'm glad that it actually worked."

  "Worked?" My voice sounds incredulous and, admittedly, more than a little impressed. "You pulverized the bloody thing!" She nods self-satisfactorily and places her talisman back around her neck.

  Looking back over at her, I suddenly notice the bleariness of her gaze and the way she looks unsteady on her feet. When our eyes meet I see a mixture of relief and exhaustion. For the first time it's as if I am truly seeing her, and not the mage I distrusted.

  For the first time, I feel genuinely concerned for her well-being.

  "Are you alright?" I ask, taking a step forward.

  "Yes," she replies, though she sounds weak. "I'm just a little tired. That was more magic than I have ever used before... it certainly takes its toll."

  We are interrupted by a whining noise coming from the woods off to the side. I look around the other side of an oak and see Zara's mule lying among some rocky terrain. Its leg is clearly broken.

  "I had forgotten that its leg broke from the fall," Zara says behind me. Her tone has shifted to one of worry. "Is there any way that we can fix it?"

  I shake my head. "Not unless you know any spells that can mend bones."

  Her already pale face grows even paler as I reach for my hatchet.

  "You can't mean to kill it!"

  "We must," I state firmly, putting on a stony mask that would have made Elias proud. Despite my calm exterior, however, I am awash with panic. Unbidden memories of the stag come rushing back, causing my stomach to churn. I ignore my growing sense of dread and look Zara directly in the eye. "Letting it live on like this would be cruel. There is nothing that we can do."

  I am surprised to see tears well up in her brown eyes. I thought that she wasn't fond of the old pack mule, I find myself thinking. Light, this is going to make things even worse.

  Doing my best to give her a sympathetic expression, I place a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Zara. It's probably best if you look away." With that, I turn and make my way to where the mule is laying, my heart heavy as a stone.

  I place my hand on the animal's neck as I kneel beside it, gently stroking its hair as I whisper comforting words. "Easy, girl. Easy. Everything is going to be alright." Its huffing breaths sound labored, and once again I am reminded of the stag that I had been forced to kill.

  Elias' words come echoing back into my mind, 'It is part of being a ranger. Sometimes you will find an animal that needs to be put down. Better for it to die quickly rather than slowly. It would be a crime to let it go on living like this.'

  My heart begins to pound, thundering painfully in my chest. I had killed a man at the inn, but that was in self-defense. Somehow it felt... justified. I still feel sorrow, but it was nothing compared to thi
s.

  Why is this so hard for me?

  I need to be stronger than I was before, I think to myself forcefully. I need to be strong for Zara. Remember the oath, Owyn. Don't be a coward!

  Still whispering and stroking its mane, I locate the spot on the neck that Elias had shown me.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I raise up my hatchet and bring it down as hard as I can. Once, twice, a third time. The mule jerks with every hit but I continue, forcing myself to finish the job. It gives one final spasm but eventually lays perfectly still.

  Breathing hard I step back, watching its life blood being soaked up by the thirsty forest floor.

  The whole ordeal probably lasts less than a minute, but to me it feels link an eternity. My stomach twists sourly, but in the back of my head I know that I did the right thing.

  Elias would be proud.

  I do my best to clean my axe blade on one of the ferns, but without water the crevices are still choked with blood. My hands and shirt sleeves look just as bad. When I return, I find that Zara is sniffling and trying to hide the fact that she is wiping away tears from her cheeks.

  "We need to head back to town," I say quietly, breaking the silence. "We need to tell the others what we found."

  "They likely won't believe us," she sniffs. Her voice is husky from crying. "Why would they?"

  "You're right," I mumble to myself, frowning. I rack my brain, trying to come up with a solution. Then I have an idea.

  "Wait here," I say, running over to the demon with my hatchet in hand. Even though it is dead, getting close to the wretched thing's corpse fills me with unease. Locating one of its feet, I use my hatchet to sever one of its claws. It does not come off easily, and when it does I am careful not to nick myself on its jagged edge. For all I know, the thing could be poisonous.

  "We'll show them this," I explain, gesturing at the claw in my hand. "Then we will bring them back here to see the rest of it for themselves."

  She glances at the claw skeptically, then looks up at me, raising an eyebrow.

  "It's the best we can do," I reply, exasperated. "This is the biggest discovery the rangers or the mages have had in a thousand years. It has to be reported immediately."