Soul Seeking

by R. Michael Card

  He drew in three quick, deep breaths, trying to steady his frayed nerves and steal his trembling limbs. Then, for better or worse, he shot to his feet and turned around, ready to face the monster coming for him…

  Except it wasn’t.

  The krolloc was facing away from Jais, still bellowing orders to the other krolls and pointing back out toward the entrance of the cave.

  But that meant…

  Caerwyn.

  She was here. She was the one the krolloc was sensing. This was perfect… for him. But it would prove most probably fatal for her, with that many krolls going after her. Still, he couldn’t think about that now. He had a mission to accomplish, and this turn of events gave him his best shot.

  He vaulted up onto the raised area he’d been hiding behind a moment before and charged the kroll. He was tempted to yell or bellow his own war cry, but kept himself silent, retaining his surprise.

  Then he leapt, his powerful limbs throwing him high. He’d given up on his ‘cut the legs out from under it’ plan in hopes that one strike might end this. He hoped to decapitate it, but quickly realized he’d jumped too soon. The krolloc was so tall that only at the apex of his incredible jump could he have reached the neck of the thing, but he hit the peak too far away from it.

  His mind worked out where he’d hit the thing, and he reversed his sword in his grip, plunging it into the beast’s back with the full force of his charge. The sword shuddered as it sank in, jolted around by what Jais guessed were ribs. He retained hold of the hilt as he, too, slammed into the krolloc’s back. He brought one foot up to try to lever himself off the beast hoping these things had hearts, and he’d struck that.

  But it was fated not to be.

  The krolloc screamed a savage roar of pain and surprise, flinging one of its long arms back around it at Jais.

  Jais leapt away before he was hit, and nimbly landed on his feet.

  But his sword was still ten feet above him, sunk to the hilt in the krolloc’s back.

  The krolloc spun and glared down at him, still bellowing a cry of rage.

  Jais wished — for an eternal moment between heartbeats — that he could call the sword back to him as Caerwyn did with Davlas.

  He could not.

  He stood transfixed in terror for a long moment, expecting his death to come — torn limb from limb — but the krolloc apparently was too preoccupied with a blade stuck in his back, reaching around behind it, trying to pull the thing free.

  It took Jais another stunned set of heartbeats to tell his feet to move.

  Then he was running, hard and fast. He’d scouted the best path back to his cave on the way here and ran, leaping from rock to rock when necessary, with all haste. As he neared the crevice, he dared look back. There was no one following him. Perhaps the krolls were too confused by what had happened.

  It was only then, standing at the mouth of his escape tunnel, that he realized… he should have stayed. The krolloc had been distracted. He could have found a weapon and attacked it, punched it if needs be. But it was too late now. He’d been a coward, too terrified to even think of staying and trying to finish the thing.

  He turned away, picking up his bow and quiver as he slunk into the shadowed crevice.

  The bellows of the krolloc followed him… taunting him.

  His own mind replayed his failure over and over.

  He knew he’d had his chance… and he’d missed it.

  22

  Alnia was tired and scared. It was an odd combination. She was alert for danger, but felt sluggish and slow.

  She hadn’t slept all night, even back before they’d been found in the forest. Caerwyn had fallen unconscious quickly… snoring. Alnia had remained awake and uncertain. She’d tried sleeping but her thoughts were a whirlwind and kept her mind spinning in directionless activity. Also she wasn’t used to sleeping on the ground and couldn’t get comfortable. So, by the time that strange apparition of Jais’ aunt had appeared and she’d woken Caerwyn, she’d only grown more tired. The desperate flight through the forest throughout the rest of the night hadn’t helped. She was exhausted.

  And yet, they were nearing the place where there would be more krolls than she ever wanted to see together and her fear was piqued.

  “This is it,” Caerwyn said, crouching low, peering through some bushes. Alnia crouched, trembling with terror and fatigue. “The cave is just ahead, there in that ridge, do you see it?”

  Everything was dark around them. Alnia had no idea how late it was, but was certain dawn had to be coming soon. This night had been far too long already. She yearned for some light or some rest. She wasn’t sure which she wanted more at this point. She knew beyond any doubt that she wanted to be away from this place, but she hadn’t known how to say that to Caerwyn, the seemingly fearless woman next to her.

  “You can wait here if you want,” Caerwyn said. “Or perhaps over there in the shadows of the ridge. It looks like there’s a path up to the top. No better place to be than above these beasts. They probably wouldn’t think to look there.”

  Alnia didn’t answer right away. She wanted to help, but she knew she was too scared to be of any use here. She looked over at the ‘path’ Caerwyn had indicated, but she could hardly see anything other than the dark looming ridge.

  Caerwyn must have taken her silence for reticence. “Either that or you can fight with me. I’ll give you Davlas. You can call it back to you after you’ve thrown it. I—”

  “No, I’ll go. I can’t see the path from here, but I’m sure I’ll find it.”

  “I understand. Be…” The other woman stopped speaking as a distant rumbling reached their ears. “What’s…?”

  A new dread filled Alnia. So powerful she couldn’t move for a moment. She wanted to curl up into a ball and hide here in these bushes. Her entire body shook with the intense fear.

  “No.” Caerwyn whispered the word, and it hung in the air for a moment as the rumbling grew louder. “No.” This one was quieter, hardly heard over the new noise and shake of the earth beneath them.

  Krolls poured out of the cave mouth. Alnia couldn’t see them, she’d pulled back from peering through the bush, but she knew they were there. She could hear their stomping feet and harsh, rasping breath.

  “What are they doing?” Caerwyn’s voice was the barest of whispers.

  A new sound, a strange sort of sucking noise filled the forest.

  “It looks like they’re sniffing the air, but… oh, shades and shadows! They can smell us.”

  Alnia’s pulse lurched. How did one hide from something that could catch your scent? Her mind settled on the ineffable conclusion quite quickly: you don’t, not when you were this close and the air was still.

  She heard a grunt, followed quickly by Caerwyn’s urgent hiss, “They know we’re here!”

  Something happened to Alnia then, a sort of calm. All her terror and trembling, her fatigue and confusion, was pushed aside for a rather unnerving serenity. There was a certainty that swept over her.

  She was going to die. That seemed inevitable now.

  The only real choice she had left available to her was… would she make her death mean something.

  She was surprise at the peace within her as she leaned forward and touched Caerwyn’s shoulder. “You have a chance to actually do something useful. Use it.” Then she turned toward the bushes which separated the two of them from the approaching krolls. “Let’s see if they only hunt by scent or if a moving target will distract them.” And she slipped through the bushes.

  She heard a gasp behind her.

  Before her were more krolls than she ever wanted to see, more than a dozen with more emerging from the cave as she watched.

  The ones at the front had already seen her, but she wanted to get as many as possible to follow her to give Caerwyn a chance, so she yelled the first thing that came to mind. “You’re all really ugly!”

  Then she bolted away from Caerwyn’s hiding spot.

  She was filled
with a wonderful exhilaration, a freedom like nothing she’d ever known. She nearly laughed with the feeling. These few moments, right now, being terrified and yet somehow overcoming it at the same time and knowing her death was imminent, were the most pure and full of her entire life.

  Caerwyn had wanted to yell after Alnia, tell her to stop, pull her back… something! But the crazy woman had acted so fast and Caerwyn had been so surprised she’d not been able to do anything but gasp.

  She heard Alnia’s taunt and the ensuing charge and chase. She knew she needed to move, now, to make Alnia’s sacrifice mean something, but she was planted here, listening with her so-keen hearing. Waiting for…

  The scream…

  Cut short so quickly…

  A wet crunching sound…

  Tears filled Caerwyn’s eyes, but there was no time to mourn now. She rose carefully, not wanting to make a noise. A plan formed in her mind, and she began picking her way through the forest as quickly as she could.

  Her heart was pounding, partly for fear of so many krolls nearby, partly in shock at what Alnia had done. She hid behind a thick tree and peeked around it.

  The krolls were still streaming out of the cave. By the gods there were so many! For the moment at least they seemed preoccupied with Alnia.

  Caerwyn had to cross a small open space. She made a break for it, running as fast as she could. No alarm went up. She reached the path she’d seen earlier, which led up the ridge. The hillside was covered in moss and loose earth and rocks. Every grasp of her hand on a tuft of grasses simply pulled it away and threatened to topple her back down. It was steep, but at just an angle that she could almost walk up it. It was her haste that made her claw and crawl, trying to pull herself up faster. She scrambled up with as much speed as she could. She slipped a few times, sliding on her belly back down a few feet, which only made it harder to get a grip with her feet or hands to try again. The path grew narrow closer to the top, and she found more to grab, tree roots and exposed rocks.

  She reached the top, breath rasping, filthy with dirt and sweat, hands scraped and bleeding. She crawled up from the steep path and simply rolled onto her back, chest heaving with heavy breaths. She was so tense and worn from the rapid flight that for that moment, as she lay there, she felt large hot tears leave her eyes, and she couldn’t help but sob for a moment at Alnia’s death.

  What had the woman been thinking?

  Move! Don’t make her death be in vain. Her own voice in her head shouted at her, and she obeyed it. She rolled over to her hands and knees and crawled to the cliff’s edge where she thought she’d be over top of the kroll cave. She was curious to see what the krolls were doing. If they knew of her whereabouts now?

  She stayed low, pressed to the ground, earth and grasses crushed into her clothes and brushing by her face with a heady loamy scent.

  She peered over the edge and saw the mass of krolls below. They were milling about now, some lumbering off in various directions, others returning to sniffing the air.

  Caerwyn didn’t know how their sense of smell worked. Would they find her up here?

  She took a quick sniff herself and could smell only the dirt and grass around her.

  None of the krolls below seemed to be alerted to her presence so perhaps she’d managed to cover herself in enough dirt to fool them. She didn’t know and wasn’t going to stick around to test the theory.

  She pushed back from the edge, scampering back until she was certain no one below would see her if she stood. She turned away from the cliff and took a moment to steady herself. She had hoped in coming up here to find a crevice, a way down into those caves. If the cave system was as large as she suspected it would range all through this part of the ridge. There should be a fissure she could use.

  She sensed Jais below her and off somewhere ahead of her to her right. She moved carefully in that direction, eyes intent on the ground.

  After a short while of searching, she stopped suddenly as a thought came to her… her wound.

  With all the rush and commotion, the scrambling and flight, she hadn’t even thought of it. She supposed that was a good thing. She could feel it, now that she was thinking of it, but it had not been in her awareness for a while now. She nodded to herself at that, she’d needed some good news. She considered it a boon and kept searching.

  She found what she was searching for at the base of a thick, leaning tree. The tree’s roots were already partially filling the gap, a dark void in the earth. She didn’t know if this would lead anywhere, but she was at least mostly certain that if she got those roots out of the way, she would fit into the crevice.

  Taking out her sword, she began hacking at the roots.

  23

  Barami woke with a start and immediately caught himself from falling. He’d been sleeping in trees since he was a kid. You only had to know what to look for to find the right spot. He didn’t have his net hammock with him — that had been taken with the rest of this things — but he still felt safer in a tree. So, after he’d taken that villager’s weapons and gear, he’d found a tree nearby to wait for dawn, sleeping in the cradle where the trunk split into three main branches. It was far from as comfortable as any bed, but he’d learned when young to sleep anywhere while on the march, and it had never left him.

  He looked around.

  The sky was lighter, but not by much. Dawn was coming, but it still wouldn’t be full light out, especially down under the forest canopy, for some time.

  Still, he felt the need for haste. He should find his companions.

  First he listened. He could hear nothing, no one searching the woods below and no calls or threats of people. Then he scouted as best he could in all directions. He’d attacked the villager near a stream and could still see the body there. It hadn’t even been found yet. These people were so very poorly organized. There was a wide gap in the foliage above the small watercourse and with the ever so slight increase in light, he thought he saw something down below in the mud of the stream-bank.

  He climbed down from his perch and padded over to inspect his find. Crouching next to it he smiled. This was a bit of luck, which after the past few days, was a welcome relief. There in the mud of the bank was a large oddly shaped depression. Others might not know what to look for, but he recognized it as a kroll’s footprint. What was even better was that within that large foot print was another print, a small horse’s hoof-print. Now that he’d seen these, a quick inspection of the area revealed more prints. At least one kroll had passed through here, probably two. They’d been followed by a man and a horse. The man, Barami had a strong suspicion, was Jais. He’d noticed… however many days ago… that the young man’s boots were ill-shod, and the pattern that these prints left in the mud was a fair match for Jais’ soles, which needed replacing.

  He rose looking ahead to where the tracks led.

  Morning would be on him soon, but he had a direction now. He set off, urgency pulling him, hoping that Jais and Caerwyn weren’t getting themselves into too much trouble.

  Jais meandered back through the caves, the way he had come, until he found the carved tunnel and the bench he’d sat on when his aunt’s spirit had left him. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was an opening not far away in the opposite wall. Within were more benches. He sat on one and — consumed with a morbid self-loathing — put his head in his hands, weeping bitter tears at his cowardice and fear.

  He could not get the image of the krolloc, looming and flailing before him, out of his mind. Nor could he stop thinking about how he’d been so terrified in the moment he should have acted. He’d never have that chance again.

  His aunt had trusted him to kill the thing, even if it meant his own death. But he and it were still alive, and his aunt must have been disgusted with him from where she watched up in Erival. He had no weapon left… well he had his arrows, but he maintained that if a long-sword shoved to the hilt into the krolloc had not killed it, then his arrows would do no good, except to annoy it perhaps
. He had failed his aunt and put the village in jeopardy, even if they were all trying to kill him. More than that, this entire region was at risk because of him.

  And Caerwyn.

  The thing had scented her and had sent all those krolls out after her. Jais had no clue what might have become of her, but he couldn’t see it being anything good. How she could defeat or escape that many krolls was beyond him.

  And it was all his fault.

  If he hadn’t been so scared… perhaps… but what could he have done with no weapon… wrestle it?

  He was no warrior. He knew that now. He was a boy who’d wanted to play at being a man. He’d wanted to swing a sword and fight battles and defeat monsters. He’d tried, true enough, even had some luck, which it must have been — not skill certainly. But even those first two krolls he’d faced, he’d needed Barami to rush in and save him.

  No one would save him now.

  He kicked a rock next to his foot, and it went clattering, echoing across the floor… much farther than he would have thought.

  Jais blinked and took a look at where he was. He hadn’t been all that observant upon his arrival, noticing only a couple rows of benches. He’d just wanted a place to sit and rest, but now that he looked around, he realized there was far more here. The floors were flat and carved in an intricate pattern. The bench he sat on was stone, but it was one of many which sat in rows with a central aisle cutting through them. Behind him stood a mostly smooth stone wall. It looked like the stone had been carved away and flattened out up to a height of about twelve feet. Beyond that was a rough and jagged stone wall arching up over him. There was the arched portal through which he’d entered within that same wall. The other walls… were similarly carved and smoothened. The other end of the large hall had a wide open area and… there were figures standing in the center of that plaza. They were large and carved of stone, two men and a woman.

  It only occurred to Jais then that he was seeing far more detail than he was used to in these caves. He looked up to see a great round hole in the ceiling of this place. It was directly above the three statues, and through it he could see forest and the brightening sky of dawn.