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A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One

Page 22

by D. N. Woodward


  “Sorry, child, I’m fine… I… You just reminded me of someone for a moment.”

  “You sure? You certain whatever you just did didn’t take too much out of you? Thanks, by the way.”

  She at last straightened up and looked him in the eye, “Nonsense! Wasn’t magic that healed you, child. Magic takes something from whom it’s used on so that the user might take something from some other fool. What I did was give to you what was given to me. You ought to know that! Now, no thanks are necessary, just promise me you won’t be getting up to bumble into something and undo all my hard work. I’ll be off to find you your visitors before their bleating requests to see you start up once more.”

  At a blank-faced nod from Leon, the little old woman bounced through the doorway and disappeared behind a heavy linen flap.

  Leon took the moment alone to look around at his surroundings for the first time. He couldn’t be sure, but he seemed to be housed within an oversized, hollowed-out log the size of a shack. The room wasn’t overly large, but it was comfortable and snug. Wood walls curved and dipped in no true form or shape with no visible seams. The windows were similarly uneven, they all consisted of natural, albeit enormous, holes formed from knots in the wood. He saw a rusted cooking stove with a vent hood piped out of one such window, but the shelter was otherwise bare bones. He lay his head back, resting on fur blankets, thrown over some sort of crude straw mattress.

  When am I going to stop being surprised by what I see here?

  No sooner had he relaxed than the doorway peeled back and five people, two griffins, and one overly large hound all spilled into the little room, crowding around his bed. All at once, there were squeals of excitement, questions of concern, sarcastic anecdotes, chirps, whines, and a general demonstration of relief by all parties involved. That is, until Olwena hollered out above the racket, “Enough! Quiet yourselves or I’ll throw you all out again!”

  No one moved, not even Haddie. Of all the amazing things that had yet happened that morning, Leon considered the last to perhaps take the cake.

  “Good. Now, as you can see, the young bonehead is feeling much better, but he needs his rest. Say hi, say bye, and get out. You’ll all have plenty of time to visit later.”

  They quickly gave their goodbyes and gradually trickled out the entrance until only Reed and the critters were left. Reed wore a smile, which automatically put Leon in a defensive state of mind. The man rarely smiled unless Haddie was around, which she wasn’t. And even then, he tended to hold a grin about as long one would palm a hot potato. A pit grew in Leon’s stomach.

  “What don’t I know, Reed? Am I horribly deformed in some way and you get to be the bearer of the bad news?” He made a show of patting his face in earnest disgust.

  Reed shook his head but remained smiling. “I hate to break it to you, but no, that mug of yours looked like that long before last night.”

  “Wow, man’s got jokes! Must be something really serious. Go ahead and spit it out then.”

  Reed leaned in. “I found my people! They are here, in these woods!”

  “You found more of the Bladed remnant?”

  Reed scrunched up his brow as his smile faded, “What? No, I meant people like me, the Fae!”

  Leon chuckled, but the effort still hurt. He settled for a smug grin instead. “So, you’re telling me you found a whole colony of grumpy Tinkerbelles? Fantastic! Just what I needed to hear!”

  “Seriously though Leon, this is amazing. Back when I told you my kind were rare, I meant really rare. Like so rare I’ve never met another skin-changer like me. I never even really knew my father. This is something I’ve dreamed about. Something I never thought possible! This is a chance for me to better know where I come from, who I am!”

  Leon could see just how excited Reed really was over the whole ordeal, so he opted to lay off.

  “Well, man, I’m happy for you, really I am.”

  Reed then glanced over his shoulder at Olwena.

  “Mind giving us a moment, I need to talk with Leon privately.”

  When Olwena drew a breath to rebut his request, Reed quickly pleaded, “Please! This is important. It won’t take long, I promise, I’ll only be here a short while longer.”

  She squinted back at him for another few seconds before huffing and exiting through the door. While she took her leave, the griffin cubs hopped up on the bed and snuggled down to nestle in for a nap against Leon’s legs.

  Reed turned back to Leon and a cautious frown replaced his prior mirth. He reached into a leather toggle hanging from his belt and pulled out a metal medallion.

  Leon knew what it was immediately. Reed held the shimmering medallion up into a ray of morning light.

  “What is this, Leon? Where did it come from, and why were you hiding it from everyone?”

  “Does everyone know?”

  “No, I was the first to your side when you went down. It must have jostled loose when you fell. I found it resting halfway out of that small bag you carry on your belt. I snatched it up and pocketed it to give to you later. Didn’t think anything of it until I took a closer look this morning.”

  In a way, the fact Reed was finally privy to the presence of the medallion was a weight off Leon’s shoulders. He had considered sharing the medallion with him several times over the past few weeks, but somehow never found the right opportunity. Part of him wondered if he wasn’t simply hoarding it away to himself as a final memento from Gus.

  Looking back, he knew he had been foolish not to trust his new friend. Perhaps Reed even knew something of its purpose and could use it to help their cause. Leon quickly relayed the story of where it came from and how it came into his possession. When he finished Reed was just as perplexed as him.

  “So, Gus never had a chance to tell you what it was, only that he really didn’t want it to fall into Ben’s hands?”

  “That’s about the short of it.”

  “We need to find someone who can translate these inscriptions on the back. I bet that’s the key to understanding why it’s so important.”

  “But that’s just it, how big a secret is this? Who can we trust?”

  “For starters, we only consult someone Bladed. How about we start by bringing Sved and Haddie in on this?”

  Leon absentmindedly reached out and scratched Merle behind the ears as he considered the idea. Reed was right, they had to start trusting someone, and if they couldn’t trust their two Otterkin companions, who could they trust. “Do it. Take it to each of them individually and show them.”

  Reed’s smile returned. “Will do. Now, get some rest. We need our Fridget Slayer up on two feet for his big award ceremony.”

  “Hold up! What award ceremony? And did you just call me a Fricken' Slayer?”

  “Ha, no, not Fricken, FRIDGET. I guess we all assumed you knew! Leon, you took out that alpha Fridget singlehandedly! That beast was insanely dangerous, it’s a wonder it didn’t turn you into a skid mark when you two collided.

  "Regardless, to the Ageless Tribe…err, I mean to my people, what you did is some big mojo. As I understand it, that troupe has been plaguing their borders in this part of the forest, ambushing people, and generally causing mayhem for several months. In fact, they were gathering for a big hunt when we showed up. They saw our smoke and assumed it was another attack on one of their own. A war party of ten Fae raced to our rescue when you did what you did. They all saw! They were so impressed they are throwing us a banquet, in your honor, four days from now! Rest up champ, you’ve got a party to attend!”

  Leon was stunned. Reed just smirked, but as he left, he turned back. “Hey, what possessed you to attack like that anyway?”

  He gave a halfhearted shrug, and Reed had the last laugh as he lifted the flap through the doorway.

  From zero to hero, just like that!

  Leon relaxed back into his bedding. It was wonderful to be able to breathe normal again. He lifted his hand from Merle’s ear and allowed it to flop down at his side. Fingers brush
ed against the warm bone-handled hilt of his Blade and Reed’s question played back through his mind. What had given him the notion to do such a thing? Deep down, as crazy as it seemed, he knew he had only chosen to act on what the Blade somehow suggested.

  He considered the implications as he drifted off to sleep.

  # # #

  Reed walked with a tempered sense of wonder through the makeshift forest gathering area where more and more of his father’s bloodline arrived each evening. He spoke polite greetings to the random guard standing watch here and there, and their replies of cordial respect gave him a heady sense of belonging. His full immersion in the Fayden tongue was finally paying off. He might miss a word every now and again, but he could at least carry a conversation with any he met.

  Welcoming fire pits, gaudy tents, and ferocious dogs were scattered throughout the gathering area where he strolled. Each new group of Fae to arrive brought dark-haired working dogs on metal chain leashes. They were intimidating to look at but behaved well enough. The dogs were all hooked to travois contraptions, used to haul the materials for the temporary housing of the Fae.

  Their tents went up quickly. Each one was unique to the family or clan it represented, yet all exhibited true craftsmanship. Silver stubbed tent poles were decorated with sparkling emerald gems and matching canvas walls in varying patterns. The canvas walls themselves were bejeweled in archaic picto-patterns that added context and color to the nightly greetings and well wishes of a beautiful, carefree folk, both quick to laugh and eager to smile.

  The camp came truly alive each evening as fires were lit and delicious smells blossomed from cookpots. Forest companions were reunited, and the music of woodwinds and laughter swept through the meadow’s clearing.

  Every woman he met was a beautiful raven-haired, almond-skinned flirt. They all shared knowing smiles with each other upon his introduction, teasing him and pretending to pout when they learned he and Haddie were sort of an item. Thankfully, Haddie and the others stayed closer to where Leon was housed, further back in the woods and away from the nightly ruckus in the clearing. The last thing he wanted was the saucy redhead getting fired up over the willowy Fae as they played their games. He didn’t believe they were intentionally fickle, but he also wasn’t eager to see how any such exchange would play out.

  The one thing that had surprised him in a not-so-glamorous way was the work ethic he witnessed, or rather the lack thereof. It was obvious his people were not morning or even early afternoon people. Each day they slept in late after their nightly bouts of carousing. It was so universal that he wondered if their culture had some nocturnal predisposition.

  Few guards were posted during daylight hours, but there was little around to guard against anyway, so he supposed it didn’t make much difference. Though he was a disciplined morning person thanks to a childhood spent with an uncle who thought sleeping late was a cardinal sin, he remained ecstatic at the reality of walking shoulder to shoulder with folk so similar to him in so many ways.

  Haddie had certainly noticed a change in him. She teased him over his ever-present smile. And what was not to smile about? He walked the very forests of his father’s ancestors with folk he could at last claim as his own, he was kind-of-maybe-sort-of dating the best-looking redhead he'd ever met, and he was set to be one of the honored guests at an upcoming feast!

  He had even given in to the promptings of his forest kin, donning their traditional clothing attire. Now, as he strutted about the forest clearing in an entirely new wardrobe, he couldn’t help but toy with the notion he might truly belong somewhere for the first time in a very long time.

  His outfit consisted of coarse tan trousers, stitched together along their outer seams in a frilly patterned design. A soft russet-colored shirt was tucked in beneath a leather belt that bubbled up roughly in spots, resembling some sort of thick avian leather. The shirt had been made of some material that felt like silk on his skin but was thick as leather. It hugged him close to his skin, tight beneath a mossy green vest from the same skin of the creature that sourced his belt. The outfit was trimmed out with knee-high leather boots. Though he suspected he must look something like an extra from a Lord of the Rings movie set, the mental picture it drew in his mind didn’t bother him a bit. Haddie claimed the get-up made him look dashing. Who was he to disagree?

  Just then, as his thoughts turned to Haddie, the old hag, Olwena, stepped out into his path.

  She clucked her tongue at him, “My, my! Aren’t you just a Crowley-Pie’s summer-crust? Prancing about with your feathers out like a field cock on a lover’s limb.” She tsked. Then her eyes narrowed within her wrinkled brow as they darted to her left and her right. She leaned in, “Come with me child. We need to talk.”

  Leave it to that old sour puss to steal his thunder and shatter his peaceful morning walk. He considered ignoring her, after all, he did still need to talk to Haddie and Sved about the metal medallion. He had put it off too long on account that it would probably require the full story of how he and Leon actually arrived in Fayden. Still, though, she was some sort of Fae healer, and she was doing a wonder treating Leon's wounds.

  Better to see what she needs now so she’ll let me be later when the parties kick off again this evening.

  # # #

  “Okay, fine. What is it, Olwena?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned down a shadowed trail back into the woods. Not given any choice in the matter, Reed followed.

  After a good five-minute hike, Olwena stopped and stuck her arm into the knot of one rather large hardwood. Just when Reed wondered if she was strangling a squirrel in there, there was a click, and a small door within the tree’s bark swung outward.

  “Quick, get inside!”

  Reed stepped into the small hollowed-out space and Olwena latched and locked the door behind them. Reed couldn’t help but laugh. “Really, old woman? What is with all this mystery?”

  “Shut it boy. Shut it and listen close.” She struck a flint and lit a lamp nearby, then she turned and watched him silently a minute too long. The flickering light from the flames wick, lit up the lines on her face, creating deep shadows on her rough appearance. When she finally did begin to talk, there was a sadness there he hadn’t quite noticed before.

  “You don’t know much of Fae folk, do you, son?” Reed just shook his head, and she nodded like it was a foregone conclusion.

  “I’ll just cut to the chase then. How many Fae have you seen wearing a Blade like you have there?” Reed reached down and touched the bone hilt handle at his side but remained silent.

  “That’s right, none! These people may be our kin, but they aren’t our people.” At this, she reached down into the rags she wore draped around her and pulled out a Blade just like his own! She must have seen some of the hurt on his face because she reached out and squeezed his arm.

  “I haven’t given up on them, child, don’t get me wrong. But they can be a cruel lot, and they aren’t all here to throw your friend a banquet, that’s for sure. If you knew just who those old crones were that have been flirting with you child, you would do well to run from their empty appeal.”

  “What? Then what’s going on with all the parties? And what crones are you talking about…everyone I've met but you has been young!”

  She tilted her head, studying him curiously, “You really did grow up an orphan from our people, didn't you? Think, child, why would the ancients call our people the Ageless tribe?

  "Several of those 'young' flirts you are so smitten with are the same old bats I knew as a child. Our people possess the power to extend youth well into old age." Her eyes grew somber and lost any hint of playfulness. "All is not what it appears to be within the shadow of these woods!

  "Now, as to your first question. They call it the Convergence. It only happens a couple of times a year. Tomorrow night is the first moonless night of spring, it’s a bloody tradition of the border regions, where Fae gather together for a big party and a hunt. One with past horro
rs I care not to dwell upon.

  "They don’t persecute Bladed of the Fae Kingdom here, but they don’t tolerate different ideas either. I keep my mouth shut and my head down, and though they know I’m Bladed, they leave me be. I think they only let me stick around all these years because I’m skilled at setting bones and healing scrapes. But the true answer to your question is twofold. First, they will want a sacrifice to bless their superstitious vanity, and second, they will need a Wild Hunt to quench their thirst for blood. Your group is poised to offer both.”

  Reed sputtered, “Sacrifice? Wild Hunt? As in they’re going to kill something?”

  “Not something, someone! And not just they, you! You’ve been prancing around like some long-lost toe-licker all week.

  “Now don’t look at me like that child, I get that you likely don’t have much family, not many of our kind ever leave these woods. Only…you need to understand, these folks aren’t your mama’s kin boy!

  “Still, there’s no denying you’re Fae, through and through. I suspect they’ve decided to feel you out for citizenship. Problem is, they don’t just let people into our little forest kingdom. Come tomorrow evening you will be asked to make a choice. Kill one from your former life to gain your spot here in this new one, then join them on their Wild Hunt, or join the Wild Hunt from the other end of the sling, if you know what I mean.” Reed could only stare back at her in horror.

  “Who? Who do they want me to sacrifice?”

  “Whoever you chose I suppose? Leon, I think, would be their preference though. The sacrifice of a man who tamed griffins and took down an alpha Fridget would be a big boon, by their standards, for any spring Convergence.”

  “What about everyone else? Haddie?”

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes at the question, and instead, turned to grab a box behind her. “I’m not in favor of any of it and I have a plan. But listen close and try to focus. I want you to put all of those concerns aside for a moment and focus on doing something for me.” She reached into the box and scooped up a small ugly baby owl, half molted.

 

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