Astray

by J F Rogers

  “Who thinks these things?” He huffed. He turned on his side and rested his head on his hand.

  “Scientists.”

  “Are these ‘scientists’ thought to be intelligent?” The term must not have translated into gachen or Ariboslian or whatever they spoke. He stumbled over it.

  “Yes, they’re educated.”

  “That doesn’t speak well of your means of instruction.”

  “Huh?”

  “Look at this sky. You say some of these stars are larger than our sun. Look at our world and people, what complex and amazing creatures we are, and you say we,” Declan hesitated, “evolved,” he over enunciated the word, looking at me questioningly as if to see if he had it right, “from apes?”

  “I didn’t say it.” I put up my hands. The way they presented these concepts in school seemed reasonable. Yet, when I tried to explain them to him, they sounded absurd.

  “The created can’t turn themselves into something they weren’t created to be. Particles can’t collide and create order. How can educated people think such things? These are foolish ideas.”

  “Yeah, like suggesting a computer could program itself.”

  “A what?”

  “Never mind.” I didn’t want to go there. It would lead to never-ending questions and inadequate responses.

  “Only God could have breathed life into us and provided us with this perfect home.”

  I didn’t respond, but I couldn’t help but agree that sounded more logical. Whether it was random particles or a Creator who created life, it seemed any theory required some element of faith. And randomness required much more. And now, I needed more than a little faith in this Creator who could possibly save me and my three companions from walking straight to our deaths.

  Or perhaps we needed what any army immediately sought when facing an attack, or walking into a trap. Intelligence. We needed intelligence.

  I had access to that, didn’t I?

  Perhaps Sully was wrong. Perhaps my greatest weapon against Aodan was the mind-link. What if I looked…just to see where he was, what he was doing, what he was planning against me? Just to gain intelligence. Wouldn’t that be the best way to avoid any traps?

  Tonight, if the swirling light appeared, maybe I’d take a look.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ◊◊◊

  THAT NIGHT, AS I dreamt, I walked toward the woman with my eyes trained on the air to my right where the swirling light usually appeared. Sizzles, like water droplets hitting a hot pan, sounded in the air. Specks of light burst like fireworks, but they didn’t fall, or leave trails of light behind. They grew in number, swirling until they formed a complete circle. Shadows flickered, and the creepy voice broke through in a disjointed fashion, as if over a bad cell phone connection.

  The picture cleared, and the sound improved. Two pale-faced men in hoods stood before Aodan. The lips of the one on the right moved.

  “She hasn’t left Notirr. But when she does, we’ll be ready. Go. You know what to do.”

  Man! Seconds too late. What had he just told them?

  “Fallon.”

  Startled, I spun toward the sharp whisper. The woman on the shore was still far away. No one else was around.

  “I know you’re there, spying on me.” He clicked his tongue in a “tsk-tsk-tsk” manner. “I expected more from the prophesied child.”

  My body jerked. Every nerve tingled. I squeezed my eyes shut. Please go away. Please go away. I opened my eyes. The light was gone. I breathed deep and relaxed as I turned toward the woman and prepared for her attack to wake me.

  ****

  The afternoon following the elders’ meeting, I helped Ryann prepare the next batch of stoneware to be shipped for trade. She painted intricate designs while I glazed.

  I wanted to talk to someone about the mind-link. About a way to find out what Aodan was up to without raising his awareness. But Ryann was probably the last person I should approach. Perhaps I could feel her out. I dipped the pot into the glaze, filled it, swirled it around, and dumped it out to coat the interior. “What do you think about going on the quest?”

  “There is not much to think about. God has called me, and I will do what He asks.”

  “Aren’t you nervous?”

  “Why should I be nervous?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. We’re only marching to our deaths. What’s there to be nervous about?” My snarky attitude resurfaced. I couldn’t help it. Her couldn’t-care-less attitude grated my frazzled nerves. But she unintentionally answered my question. I definitely could not talk to her about the mind-link. Her thinking was about as black and white as they come.

  She placed her bowl on the counter. “I’m being inconsiderate. Please forgive me. You’re not a believer so you don’t understand. But I promise you, all will turn out well.” She placed her arm around me, squeezed, and returned to her task.

  She meant well, and the matter-of-factness in her voice didn’t come across as condescending despite her words. Still…something rubbed me the wrong way.

  “I must tell you.” She reached for another pot to paint, her tone indicating a serious subject encroaching. “I have seen you and Declan together.”

  Seen us? Like we were doing something wrong? This conversation had taken a turn I never would have suspected. I could feel mother hen striking again. This time, I was the target. It was one thing for her to talk to the kids like that, but I was only a couple of years younger. I bristled, preparing for attack. “Yeah? What about it?”

  “You seem quite comfortable with one another.”

  What was her issue? “We’re friends.”

  “Has he told you about Maili?”

  “No. What’s maili?”

  “You mean who. She is the daughter of an elder in Kylemore. Declan is the son of an elder in Notirr.” Her fingers still, she looked at me like I should be getting some sort of hint.

  I raised my eyebrows to illustrate my cluelessness.

  “Declan and Maili are betrothed.”

  “So?” I steeled myself to remain indifferent, but my body betrayed me. My face grew hot. I struggled to keep a steady hand.

  Ryann’s eyebrows flickered, as if registering my response. She turned back to her work. “I wonder why he has not told you about her.” Ryann focused on the bowl, her skilled hands swirled about its surface, leaving expert designs behind.

  I shrugged. “Why should he? It’s not like we’re going out or anything.”

  “Going where?” She placed the completed masterpiece on a tray, pushed stray hair away from her face with the back of her wrist, and wiped her hands.

  “No, I mean, seeing each other…” Yeah, that helped. In response to her tilted head and bewildered expression, I attempted to come up with another saying with the same meaning, something more out of date. “Courting.”

  She nodded and returned to her work. “Still, he should have told you. I see how he looks at you, so be warned, Declan is not available.”

  An uncomfortable laugh escaped me. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

  Ryann turned her attention to me. “What’s around the bush that I should beat?”

  “Ah…Nothin’. Just a saying.” I put all my energy into spreading an even coat of glaze over my bowl, relaxing a bit when she picked up the next piece and resumed painting.

  Man! What was her deal? What was I supposed to do, stop being friends with him? Tell him to go away? Make him stop looking at me? Then her words broke through my irritation, I see how he looks at you. I fought a smile and peeked at Ryann to make sure she didn’t notice. Not much got by her.

  A warm sensation spread over my chest—more than an excited-about-a-boy feeling. It was external, as though I’d spilled coffee. Finding nothing on my dress, I checked under the neckline. An arrow on the amulet was aglow. I dropped my bowl. Ceramic shards skittered across the floor. Ignoring them, I pulled it out to show Ryann.

  She n
odded. “’Tis time.”

  ****

  An hour later, we stood on the road on the outskirts of the village, the stone wall surrounding the perimeter at our backs. Drochaid pointed down the dirt road which disappeared into the thick woods—the unknown. Archers surrounded us, their eyes trained on the forest on all sides. My stomach churned. If protection wasn’t necessary out there, in the forest with whatever evils waiting to pounce on us, why have it here? Where was the complete faith in their God to protect me now?

  Sully waved his hand at them. “Bah, such unnecessary fanfare.”

  “If there is anything out there, won’t they just follow us and wait until we’re alone to attack?”

  “You give Aodan too much credit. He is arrogant. Much too confident in his own understanding and abilities.”

  “So he doesn’t have minions camped out, watching me, prepared to follow me? You said—”

  Sully rested his hand on my shoulder. “Child. Have faith. You must be cautious and follow Drochaid.” He handed me a heavy pouch full of green dust. “Sprinkle this behind you as you walk. It will mask your scent, making it difficult for the fasgadair to track you.”

  I nodded. My fears remained, but I was thankful for such an invaluable, albeit unusual, gift.

  “Use it sparingly. A little goes a long way, and you have a long way to go, especially since you’re taking the indirect route.” He winked and gave a little knowing smile.

  I surprised myself by rushing to hug him. He must have expected it though, being a seer.

  Sloane patted my back. “Remember, the best fight is no fight.”

  Mirna kissed me goodbye and hugged me close when I hesitated to leave. “God will provide. Not to worry, child.”

  The whole village seemed to have converged on the road. Everyone cheered. Tears pooled in many eyes. I attempted to blink them away, and wipe inconspicuously at the one that escaped. In my head, Munchkins sang, “Follow the glowing Drochaid,” and we marched away following the arrow on the amulet. Unease rose in my gut. I’d grown comfortable in Notirr, but this new venture reminded me I was a stranger in a dangerous land. I gulped and pressed forward despite my fears, in hopes, by some miracle, I could help these people. Whether I succeeded or not, I prayed the end of the road would lead home. I needed Stacy. I needed things to be familiar, predictable. Safe.

  We’d only walked a couple of miles, but I already grew tired and sweaty from the heat of the midsummer day. How I despised the heat. As I brushed the sweat from my brow, a gray and white dog crossed the path ahead.

  “Wolf!” I called out, unaware until that moment how much I missed him. He had saved my life before. Perhaps he would do it again. When he sauntered over to me, I dropped to my knees and hugged him, laughing. “Maybe we’ll survive this suicide mission after all.”

  “This must be the wolf.” Declan spoke up.

  “Yes.” I beamed, hoping he’d stay with me this time. An intimidating wolf traveling with us would be a great comfort. I was thankful for Cahal as well. Seven feet of rippling muscles. Biceps the diameter of my head. The battle-axe across his back probably weighed as much as me. Surely, his presence invoked fear in all who crossed him.

  I scanned my companion’s faces. None appeared impressed. They stood arms crossed, scowling.

  “Sully didn’t say we’d be accompanied by a wolf.” Ryann eyed him with distrust. “This isn’t part of the plan.”

  “Sully told us who we’d leave with, not who we’d meet or pick up along the way.” No matter what, Wolf was coming with me.

  Declan planted his feet and peered down at him. “If you are one of us, reveal your identity so we might discuss the terms of this journey.” He took the satchel off his shoulder. “I have clothes you can change into.” He eyeballed Cahal. “I’m sure Cahal has some too, if you need something larger.”

  Cahal rolled his eyes.

  Wolf yawned as though he had no intention of revealing himself, if he was, indeed, one of them.

  I didn’t care who or what he was. I trusted him. “He’s coming.”

  Declan stepped toward me and touched my arm. “Fallon, you don’t know who or what it is.”

  When Wolf grumbled, Declan glanced his way before continuing, “You don’t know what its intentions are.”

  “Look. He’s already saved my life once. He’s coming.”

  One by one, we set off. We didn’t argue further, nor did anyone attempt to conceal the distrustful eye they glued on him. Wolf didn’t appear to care.

  So we walked on. Cahal marched in front, scanning the wooded hills like a Secret Service agent. Declan sandwiched me between himself and Wolf. I watched the amulet, trying not to weave into their paths. Ryann trailed us, sprinkling Sully’s dust.

  When the sun disappeared over the horizon, we made camp.

  “Rest.” Cahal unsheathed his battle-axe and wielded it as if prepared for attack. “I’ll take first watch.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  ◊◊◊

  THE POPPING LIGHTS BEGAN forming a circle when a growl rang out from my left. I turned to find nothing there. The growling grew louder as if right in my ear.

  Wolf growled. Lying beside me, his rumbling vibrated against my back. He nudged me with his nose and got to his feet. Head low, he peered in the direction from where we’d come.

  “Is it fasgadair?” I whispered, as though he’d answer.

  Yet he did. He looked me in the eye and nodded.

  My body went numb.

  Wolf growled again, low and threatening. Whether in warning to us or to our potential attackers, he succeeded in waking Declan and Ryann.

  “Get your weapons,” Declan whispered. Eyes wide, he lifted his sword.

  Cahal, ready and waiting, searched for what Wolf already saw, smelled, or otherwise sensed.

  I couldn’t move. Declan pulled me to my feet and tried to put the stake in my hand, but my fingers didn’t want to grasp it. The smooth wood felt foreign. What had Sloane told me to do?

  I looked at the minuscule weapon, and my stomach rolled. What if I needed to use it? I couldn’t puncture someone’s skin, let alone plunge it into squishy muscle to pierce a heart. Would I even have the strength if I could manage to aim at the right place? A fasgadair was a bit tougher than a straw dummy.

  As I clutched the weapon, fear prickled my body. Wolf raced toward something in the woods. Cahal followed at incredible speed, considering his girth. Declan and Ryann sprinted off after them.

  They left me. I didn’t want to follow. But I couldn’t stay. Alone. Unprotected. Didn’t Sloane say to run? Run where? What if I lost everyone? An owl hooted, making me jump, giving me the nudge I needed. I bolted after them.

  In the dark woods, I’d already lost them. My throat closed. I searched for clues to their whereabouts and clutched my hands over my mouth, fighting the urge to shout for them. Ahead branches rustled and twigs snapped. I followed. As I neared, shuffling feet, snarls, and grunts as well as the thud and whisper of slashing blades disrupted the night. I stopped.

  The noise faded in the distance, replaced by my rapid breath and pounding heart. My breath and heartbeat seemed to slow, or was it time that had slowed?

  A bloodless face emerged in a patch of moonlight. It almost glowed. Against the darker horizon, it appeared to be a disembodied head floating in air.

  I blinked, and it was before me, a foot from my face. A gleeful sneer tugged the corners of its mouth. The twisted thing seemed to savor the moment, to sense my weakness. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. It bared its fangs. I watched, frozen, helpless, a fly in a web awaiting my demise.

  The vampire’s smile widened. His unblinking eyes bulged while it closed the gap between us.

  Wolf came barreling through the trees. His hindquarters bunched then straightened as he sprang. His front legs curled underneath, his jaw widened, aimed at the fasgadair’s neck.

  The bloodsucker’s head pivoted toward Wolf.
<
br />   As the creature crashed to the ground, with Wolf atop, the spell broke. My mind cleared. My perception returned. The grotesque din of chomping canines penetrated my psyche. Blood spewed from the monster’s neck, decorating my dress with crimson splatters. I screamed.

  Everyone came running. Cahal’s eyes were wild, darting in every direction as if he anticipated more, though his words said otherwise. “Should be all of them.”

  “How many were there?” Declan doubled over and rested on his knees, panting, straining to regain his breath.

  “Counting this one?” Cahal swung his huge axe over his head. As it began its swift descent, the fasgadair’s eyes popped wide open. With a sickening thud, the head tumbled away, and Cahal answered, “Four.”

  The body and its head turned to dust.

  I ran and puked—twice.

  Declan came to comfort me. I hoped he hadn’t seen my dinner spewing forth. The smell was bad enough. Sitting away from the contents of my stomach, head buried between my knees and arms wrapped around my legs, I attempted to purge the fasgadair’s image from my mind. Its head—eyes wide open—rolling from its body, played over and over.

  Declan settled beside me and rubbed my back. “Are you all right?”

  “Let’s see.” I held up my fingers to count out my complaints. “I’m so far from home I might as well be in outer space. My mother’s alive, and it’s up to me to save her and everyone else. To do so, I have to kill my uncle, who, by the way, happens to be a vampire. I just witnessed the removal of a bloodsucker’s head. Its blood is splattered all over me, and I have puke breath.” Six, but I could go on. And on. If I had the breath.

  Declan chuckled. “You’re not like anyone I’ve known.”

  What an odd response. I raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever known any humans…or half humans?”

  “Nay.”

  “That’s probably why.”

  He laughed, and his whole body quaked. Its infectious quality took me by surprise. Despite my circumstances, I laughed with him.

  Then my smile faded. “I froze. If Wolf hadn’t rescued me…”

  “Don’t torture yourself worrying about what might have happened.”