by Tora Moon
“I didn’t have to worry about a horse.” Blazel patted Lighzel’s neck and filled her manger with fresh hay. He scooped out a large portion of grain for her. Then, his horse taken care of, he turned to Jaehaas. “I only had myself to take care of, and I traveled mostly either as a wolf or in my warrior form. I’ve been a wolf more than a man for a long time.”
“You not be a rogue,” Jaehaas sad, putting a hand on Blazel’s shoulder. “It takes more than staying in wolf form for long periods of time. I haven’t seen you slavering to kill people. Come on, I be starved. Let’s go get something to eat.”
Blazel wondered how he had found such a good friend. Together they managed to make an edible dinner from the supplies in the safe house and their packs.
The next morning, he insisted they practice archery before leaving. He’d seen the bow’s value and its long distance-ability first hand. Now, he had incentive to get better and managed to hit the target’s center three times.
Blazel inspected Lighzel’s belly and found her wounds were all scabbed over. He had to be careful placing the girth strap around her to ensure he didn’t rub any of her wounds. They should reach Strunhelos Keep before the sun set, so they didn’t need to worry about another attack from the nocturnal paethers.
Once the sun topped the mountain peaks, the day warmed up. Flowers were beginning to bloom in the meadows they passed. A herd of ducorns bounded from a meadow and disappeared into the trees. They were one of Blazel’s favorite foods, and he had to hold Lighzel’s reins hard so he wouldn’t chase after them. I won’t starve if they get away. I have plenty of food in my packs. So does Jaehaas.
He glanced down, his eyes going wide, to discover his hand was covered in fur. He hadn’t ever done that before. He didn’t even know it was possible. Concentrating hard, he returned his hand to flesh. He surreptitiously patted his face and ears to ensure they were still human, then looked sideways at Jaehaas. But he didn’t look like he’d seen Blazel’s slip.
When they passed the trees where the ducorns had fled, Blazel relaxed—or tried to. His body quivered with pain. He heard a soft growling and realized it was him. Other than the brief periods to hunt, he hadn’t spent much time as a wolf since meeting the Strunland guard-pack, and the last time he’d shifted had been two chedans ago. It had been years since he’d spent so long solely in his human form.
He gritted his teeth so hard with the effort to hold back the wolf that he was afraid he’d break a tooth. Something Histrun had told him when he was young came back to him. None of his forms were better or worse than the others, and to be healthy all Posair men had to spend some time in his three forms. It was all a matter of balance.
Jaehaas glanced over at him and stumbled. “Blazel! Sweet Mother what’s wrong? Pieces of yourself be shifting.”
“Gotta run…gotta shift …” Blazel ground out.
“Hand me Lighzel’s reins.” Jaehaas held out his hand for them, concern in his eyes. “Then go, go run in wolf form for a bit. Catch a rabbit or a squirrel and join me later.”
Blazel nodded, tossed the reins to Jaehaas, and slid from the saddle. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he began to run, shifting into wolf from one breath to the next, just as easy as it had always been. He put on a burst of speed and wove through the trees, running until he panted for breath. He slowed, sniffing the air in a search for water, and followed the scent to a fast-moving stream. It was ice-cold, filled with snow runoff. He drank deeply, then flopped to the ground to rest in the shade of a huge spruce. His breathing slowed and his eyes drifted close.
He dreamed again of the gaunt, malnourished woman. She was gray and sickly looking. She wanted something from him but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. She reached out to him with her claw-like fingers and gripped his arm. A slimy energy plucked at him, making him feel dirty and ill. He jerked his arm hard away from her, then hissed in pain as her claws sliced into his flesh. Suddenly the dream was gone and his arm burned.
He awoke to the sound of shuffling and scurrying in the underbrush, forgetting the strange dream as he came fully conscious. His nose twitched and he cocked an ear forward, listening. The rabbit was still there and hadn’t scented him yet. Slowly, so slowly, he eased into a crouch. The rabbit bounced from the underbrush and Blazel sprung, jaws snapping. The rabbit didn’t have a chance. Blazel carried the body to his sleeping place and laid down, crunching the bones.
The snack awoke his appetite. He stood up and shook his fur. Time to hunt. He left the clearing at a lope. Something niggled the back of his mind, telling him something was wrong. But the thoughts of the ducorns made him lick his chops. He ran a few steps south and stopped, finally realizing what was wrong. He was going in the wrong direction. He needed to travel north. North to home.
He shook his head. He was a man, not a wolf, and Chariel needed him. He had a friend, Jaehaas, who was traveling with him. Blazel trembled. He had almost lost himself in his wolf form and he’d only been in it a few octars. He’d have to be more careful.
As he ran north toward Strunhelos Keep, he chanted to himself, “I am a man. I am Blazel.”
* * *
The spires of Strunhelos Keep pierced the blue sky. A pennant snapped in the stiff breeze. Hawks flew lazy circles high overhead. No one traveled the road leading to the keep gates.
Where’s Jaehaas? Did he go on without me? Blazel lifted his head and howled. He loped in the direction of the answering yodel, toward a grove of trees alongside the road. When he arrived, Lighzel was happily cropping the grass. She whickered a greeting to him and went back to her grazing. Blazel followed the sound of a bow being drawn and arrows thunking into a target.
He found Jaehaas methodically filling a circle on a tree with arrows.
He let the last one fly and turned to Blazel. “Did you have a good run?”
Blazel dipped his head in a nod and tried to shift. The magic pulsed through his body, then built into a ball of pain. He howled, the sound turning into the scream of a man, as the magic finally let him go. He bent over and emptied his stomach. The base of his skull felt like it had exploded, bright pinpricks of light danced in front of his eyes, and black encroached on his vision. His legs gave out, and he dropped to the ground in a heap, panting. He had just enough presence of mind to know he didn’t lay in his own vomit. Even in the swamp, it hadn’t hurt like this to shift.
He heard Jaehaas rush over to him. Cool water was squirted over his face, and then Jaehaas was urging him to drink. After several long milcrons, Blazel’s vision cleared and the pain in his head receded. He struggled to sit up, gulping to keep the rest of his stomach contents where they belonged.
“What happened, Blazel?” Jaehaas looked worried.
“I don’t know.” Blazel rubbed his face, encountered crud in his beard, and wiped his hand clean on the grass. “The magic was there and then suddenly it was stuck. It hurt like the eighth hell.”
“It looked awful.” Jaehaas shuddered. “You morphed some parts of you into wolf, while others be human. It be a nightmarish mishmash. I almost lost my lunch. I see you did. Has this ever happened to you before?”
“No!” Blazel thought back to the swamp. “Well, I’ve had trouble because I stayed too long as a wolf, but since I worked through that it’s been easy to shift. And even then, it was never this painful.” He put his weight on his right arm to push himself up off the ground and hissed with pain.
“Let me see.” Jaehaas pulled Blazel’s arm to him. “What happened to you? Did you get in a fight with another predator while you be gone?”
Blazel shook his head and looked down at his arm. His sleeve and arm were slashed to ribbons. Blood oozed from the cuts. Jaehaas made him take off his shirt and then cleaned the wounds. They stank and gray tinged the edges.
“If I didn’t know better,” Jaehaas said, “I’d say you be poisoned by monster toxin. But we haven’t fought any monsters lately. Where would you get something like this?”
“I don’t know! I
only chased and ate a couple of rabbits, then took a nap.” Blazel paused and looked at his arm again. He saw phantom black claws gripping his arm, exactly where the cuts were located. He whispered, “But it was only a dream…”
How could a dream hurt me? He looked at the cuts on his arm which proved something different. He needed to get home and see Chariel and the Supreme. They’d know what had happened to him—he hoped.
Neither man had enough fire magic to burn the poison from Blazel’s arm. Jaehaas wrapped a bandage around it to stop the bleeding. Then he retrieved his arrows while Blazel made his way slowly back to Lighzel, weaving and stumbling across the grove. Jaehaas had to lever him onto Lighzel’s back and tie him to her saddle.
“It be a good thing the keep not be far,” Jaehaas murmured.
Blazel couldn’t agree with him more. His arm throbbed in time to the pounding of his heart. His head clamored with the cadence of Lighzel’s hooves. The bright spots in front of his eyes returned. He slumped over Lighzel’s neck. With his last strength, he wound his fingers into her mane and let the darkness take him.
Later—he knew it was later because it was dark outside and the lantern beside his bed glowed with pale light—he awoke with a groan and a cool hand felt his forehead.
“You were lucky,” a woman’s voice said. She reached forward and twisted the knob to turn up the light on the lantern. Like all the other healers Blazel had met, she was a Brown. Her medium brown hair was pulled into a bun without any fringe around her face to give it softness. Summer-blue eyes gazed down at him with kindness.
“If you had waited any longer to get treatment,” she continued, “you would have lost your arm. How long ago did you get poisoned? And why weren’t you in your fur? I usually only see this type of injury on Reds, not on warriors.”
“I wasn’t in a fight,” Blazel said. He twisted his arm so he could see it. Thin scabs crossed his upper arm; it was red and swollen, with fine spiderweb streaks radiating from the injury. “I’m not sure what happened. Thank you for healing me.”
“Not to worry, it’s my job,” she patted his leg. “Watch the red streaks. If they get larger, see a healer immediately. Are you hungry?”
Blazel’s stomach rumbled. “Starving.”
He sat up and reached for the bowl she handed him, then she left. He slurped the broth soup, wishing it had more than tiny bits of meat and vegetables in it. He finished it off, but it didn’t temper his hunger. He looked around the room for his pack—there were still travel rations in it—but couldn’t find it. Then a call of nature distracted him. He stood up, feeling a bit wobbly. His head had calmed to a dull ache and the bright lights were gone. His arm was stiff, but with a little movement, the stiffness went away.
When he returned from the necessary room, Jaehaas was waiting by his cot. He had on a clean shirt and his pelt had been brushed to a shine. Since leaving Haasneh Keep, Jaehaas had grown a beard; it had been trimmed.
“You be looking better,” Jaehaas said. “You didn’t look so good the last time I saw you. There be a decidedly gray cast to your skin. The healer told me it be monster poison and that it be a good thing we be so close to the keep.”
“Before you ask again, I don’t know what happened. I remember bits of a strange dream I had, where a creature clawed me. When I was in wolf form I didn’t have any injuries; they only appeared when I shifted into my human form. Do you know where my bag is?”
“I do, why?”
“I’m starving,” Blazel said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “The broth the healer gave me didn’t help much. I also want to get dressed.” The healer had removed his clothes and left him in a thin healer’s gown. The room was chilly.
Jaehaas laughed. He pulled open a drawer and tossed his bag onto the bed. “Here. Wait and I’ll bring you some heartier food. You don’t need to eat a travel bar.” He made a face of distaste before clomping out of the room.
Blazel put on a pair of soft, loose pants that served as sleeping attire and was just pulling on the matching shirt when Jaehaas came in holding a tray.
The smell of roasted billocks and caramelized onions made Blazel’s mouth water. The meat and onions were sandwiched between two thick slices of nutty bread. Crunchy fried slices of tuber sat next to the sandwich, and a pot of steaming taevo rounded out his meal. Blazel poured a cup of taevo for Jaehaas and himself, sat with the tray on his lap, and devoured the food.
“Histrun mentioned Rizelya saw a woman in her dreams,” Jaehaas said when Blazel’s eating slowed. “Could it be the same woman you saw in yours?”
“I don’t know.” Blazel ate the last bite of sandwich and took a gulp of taevo to wash it down. “I’m not even sure I saw a woman. All I remember is black claws. If it was a woman, she’d have to be powerful to hurt me physically through my dreams.” He looked into his mug for a long moment. “I don’t even know if the Supreme is that powerful. Rizelya told Histrun and Naila she thought someone was controlling the Malvers monsters. If so, they’d have to be very powerful.”
“Something strange be happening.” Jaehaas refilled both of their mugs. “It be a mystery I hope to Goddess the Supreme can solve. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your experiences in the swamp. I’ve heard bits and pieces. What be they like? Be there twisted beasts?”
“Yes. You’ve seen narhili beasts, right?” At Jaehaas’ nod, Blazel continued. “They come from the swamps. There are other things, flying snakes, rabbits who eat meat.”
In the quiet, Blazel opened up and talked about his experiences traveling and living in the swamps. He told Jaehaas about the various beasts he’d seen and fought in the swamps. He’d never had any male Posair friends to whom he could talk freely. Histrun had always been more a mentor than a friend. Then he’d found one in Rolstrun, and now he had one in Jaehaas. Blazel sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the Warrior for the gift. They talked late into the night, finally sleeping when the healer came in and scolded them.
Chapter 9
The next morning nothing showed of Blazel’s ordeal, not even faint scars. He and Jaehaas left Strunhelos Keep shortly after dawn. The morning air was chilly, the air fresh with the clean, sharp smell of pine and cedar. They left the keep using the north gate; sullen guards watched them leave.
They entered what appeared to be a cave, but after a few feet it turned into a narrow tunnel. By stretching out his arms, Blazel could touch either side with his fingertips. He focused on the dim light ahead and took deep breaths to calm his nerves. He’d once been stuck in a small cave for more than a chedan while two huge sabertigers paced outside, waiting for him to leave. He’d come close to starving and dying of thirst before the pair left to hunt easier prey. Ever since, Blazel had problems with small, close spaces. After a hundred breaths, they finally exited the tunnel.
Jaehaas and Lighzel’s hooves echoed as they stepped into the canyon beyond the tunnel. Steep cliffs rose to tower over them on either side of the narrow road, which was only a little wider than the tunnel. Nothing but rock grew on the cliffs and the smooth surface didn’t provide any handholds. Blazel caught a movement on the top of the cliff—a guard following their progress through the pass. Between the cliffs and the tunnel, the pass was easily defended. Strunhelos Keep was a legacy of the Great War. Even after a thousand years, the garrison was still manned and guarded the entrance to the Posairs’ treasure—the Supreme and the Sanctuary.
The cliffs receded abruptly, almost as if they’d been hewn from the mountains to create the pass. The landscape opened up to reveal forest and meadow. The trees marched up the slopes and Blazel could see the road winding through them. The rising sun hit the snow-covered peaks, bathing them with golden light while the rest remained in blue shadow.
Blazel kept his eyes on the mountain peaks, trusting Lighzel to stay on the path. In those peaks was home. Deeper into the mountains at the top of the world lay his friends, the Phengriffs. He wondered what his new friend Jaehaas would think of his old buddy Graak. Blazel
snorted as he glanced back to the road and his gaze fell on Jaehaas’s horsey rump. Both of his friends were unusual.
Lower on the slopes, near Strunhelos Keep, the mountains were waking up with spring. Trees were in bud, flowers poked their heads from the ground, and birds twittered and sang. The slope steepened and the signs of spring lessened. The canyon’s north-facing slopes were still blanketed with snow.
The sun rose higher, its fingers reaching deeper into the forest, and the day began to warm up. At midday, they stopped in a clearing near a stream to eat and rest. When Blazel remounted, Jaehaas clomped back to the road.
“No, Jaehaas, not that way,” Blazel said. “I know a different, much shorter route. The road meanders and twists and it will take us three days to reach the Sanctuary. If we use my shortcut, we’ll be there tomorrow.”
Jaehaas turned to look at Blazel. “Be it safe?”
Blazel nodded. “As safe as the road. The mountain holds its own dangers, but it isn’t as dangerous as below the pass.”
“If this shortcut of yours gets us to the Sanctuary faster, then let us go that way, even if it be more dangerous.”
Blazel led the way toward the shortcut. Jaehaas continued to look skeptical.
“Jaehaas, really it is safe. Here, there are no monsters, no narhili beasts, nor any other creatures twisted by the malignant magic pools. The predators are simply animals, and most of them know better than to hunt men. We’ll be fine. If there’s any trouble, I can shoot it with my arrows.”
Jaehaas smirked. “Then there must not be much to worry about. You still not be a good shot yet.”
“But I’m getting better.”
“Not much.”
“Hey, I hit the center three times!”
“Yes, you did.” Jaehaas smiled.