by Jim Galford
Nodding, Turess ran over, his eyes widening as he saw Estin’s injuries. The man did not hesitate, going straight to Estin and touching his neck and then wrists, though he kept glancing over at Feanne to be sure she was not going to attack him. Shaking his head, Turess put a hand to Estin’s forehead. A second later, Turess’s shoulders sank, and Raeln could see Feanne tense as Turess closed Estin’s partially open eyes. Saying something in the language he had used earlier, Turess sat back and put his hands on his lap, waiting and pointedly avoiding looking at Feanne.
“Dead man says Estin is too far gone to help without resources we do not have here,” confessed Yoska sadly. “He says we should prepare body to be brought back for his memorial. He also says that we have lost two good people today, and that pain such as this is never easy. He suggests we all drink heavily, though that I quote loosely.”
The group went silent for some time, the only sound Feanne’s deep huffing breaths. After a minute, Feanne reached up and brushed her long claws across the scars on her arm, which had not changed or healed in her transformation. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, taking a knee beside Turess. “I saved him this way once before,” she told them, putting a massive hand over Estin’s chest. “He risked his life for me. I will do the same.”
“What are you doing?” Raeln asked, grabbing her wrist. The look Feanne gave him was a clear warning that he had gone too far, but he did not ease his grip.
“My body can heal itself from most things…at least when I am like this,” she explained. “I am going to take his injuries onto myself and hope it is enough.”
“Can you heal from death? This isn’t about his wounds anymore, Feanne. The spirit is gone.”
“Do you think I care, Raeln? Either he lives or he doesn’t. I will have tried all that I have left to me. He would do the same. I can do no less. This will either save him or let me join him. I have made my choice.” Yanking her hand free, Feanne repositioned it over Estin’s chest and began whispering to herself. For several long seconds, nothing seemed to happen. Then, with a suddenness that shocked Raeln, the gaping wounds abruptly closed, the flesh mending itself. Meanwhile, mirrored injuries appeared across Feanne’s skin as her throat bled and her chest snapped and bones broke over her heart.
With a gasp Feanne clutched at the hole in her chest and fell backward. Raeln dove to her side, but before he reached her, she had already stopped breathing. Her skin went cold rapidly under his touch, her eyes staring blankly at the sky.
“He is alive and unconscious,” said Yoska from behind Raeln. “Is she?”
Raeln felt around for Feanne’s pulse, but there was nothing. He put his ear to her chest and heard nothing, nor did she try to breathe. Swearing, he performed the most basic attempts to make Feanne breathe by pressing on her chest to mimic the normal motions of taking in air. Doing so seemed to be doing more damage than good, as blood poured out of the hole in her chest. “I’ve got nothing,” Raeln managed to say in between pushes. She had not so much as budged, and when he put his ear to her chest again, there was still no heartbeat.
Coming around to the other side of Feanne, Dalania looked over the wounds and put a hand to her mouth as she tried not to cry. She slowly stood and backed away, her eyes never leaving Feanne.
“Crying isn’t going to help,” Raeln snapped at Dalania. “Is there anything anyone can do?” Looking around, Raeln saw desperation on the faces of his companions. Yoska was cradling Estin, helping him cough up blood that had pooled in his throat. Turess sat nearby, watching Feanne with worry, but Raeln doubted he could help, given that he had already said he could not help Estin. Only Dalania seemed to be thinking something different, and Raeln saw panic in her face, not fear or sadness.
“What?” he demanded, beginning the compressions on Feanne’s chest again. This time the blood flow from her wounds had slowed considerably. “What is it, Dalania?”
“They will claim her. They’ve been waiting for her to die in this form,” the woman mumbled, backing away. “All these years, they sat by and wanted her to get herself killed so they could reclaim the magic he put inside her.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“The fae…the wilderness spirits,” Dalania told him, covering her face with her hand. “She pledged herself to them. A bargain on her life. That’s the source of her power. I can feel them coming for her, racing in from other parts of the wilderness. The fae never come to these lands. If they are coming, it can only be for her. The last time she died, she was outside their reach. Here, they can feel her—”
“We’ll deal with them when they show themselves, whatever they are. Stop sobbing and help!”
Dalania ignored him, turning toward the path out of the ravine. She walked away, suddenly calm.
Coming down the path, Raeln saw three faint silhouettes. At first he thought more undead were coming, but these seemed somehow different. One appeared to be an almost ghostly wolf, walking on the air itself rather than the path. Another swirled and gave him the impression of a dust storm. The third seemed somewhat tree-shaped, though it walked like a man.
“Anyone know how to fight a fae?” asked Raeln, but Yoska just shook his head. “Dalania…Dalania! What are you doing?”
The woman had walked up to the base of the path, putting herself between the three spirits and the rest of the ravine. Raeln could faintly hear her talking, and a moment later, Dalania took a knee in front of the spirits, seconds before they faded away.
In the minute that followed, Raeln felt warmth flow back into Feanne. Her wounds closed, the bones mending and flesh filling in over them. Suddenly, she gasped and opened her eyes, looking around in confusion. Before he could say or do anything, Feanne screamed, and he heard bones snapping as she shrank back to her normal size. The transformation was brutal, breaking her body and rebuilding it over a matter of seconds, until she lay trembling in front of him, once again the small lithe woman he had traveled with.
Shaking from cold, exhaustion, or both, Feanne curled into a ball, covering her nakedness. Raeln reacted immediately, ripping off what was left of his own cloak and throwing it over her.
Nearby, Estin sat up, still coughing slightly. He looked around and saw Raeln and Feanne. Scrambling over, he pulled Feanne into his arms, the two of them clinging tightly to one another, both shaking from cold and their exertions.
Feeling somewhat out of place, Raeln got up, pulling his wounded arm to his side. He waved away Yoska and Turess when the two men started to come over to him, instead moving as quickly as he could toward Dalania, still kneeling at the foot of the stone ramp.
“What did you just do?” Raeln demanded, coming up alongside the woman.
“I saved a life that means the world to four children and one fine man,” she replied, turning her face away. As she turned, Raeln saw her wounds were closed, leaving faint green scars. “They agreed that her life was too important to lose yet.”
Raeln reached out and caught Dalania by the chin, forcing her to look at him. Despite her flinching at his touch, he refused to back down. Once she faced him, he saw tears ran freely down her cheeks. “Tell me,” he insisted, softening his tone. “Please tell me.”
Smiling sadly, Dalania glanced toward Feanne and Estin, still wrapped in each other’s arms. “Feanne sold herself to the fae in exchange for power when she was too young and angry to know better,” whispered Dalania, wincing. “The poor child has had to live with that choice every day, wondering if she’ll lose control and murder her family. To make matters worse, they will probably take what is left of her after death and use it to further their own ends. She had no happy ending coming to her if she died where they could find her.”
“Why is she alive, Dalania?”
Turning to look at Raeln, the woman put an arm around his waist, hugging him and putting her cheek against his chest so she could still watch Estin and Feanne. “I made a trade,” she answered softly. “My kind are distant kin of the fae. They had far more int
erest in me than in her. I traded my life—and more—to ensure that Feanne is free of them. They wanted me to make the same promise to serve that she had.”
Groaning, Raeln put his arms around Dalania, trying to offer her some comfort. “You told me that you once were owned…that you would never go back to it.”
Dalania nodded against him. “I already know that life, though. There are five people in this world who are better for my choice. I am just one.”
“You matter too. This is not something you should’ve done without thinking.”
Patting his chest, Dalania laughed. “Thank you, Raeln. I made a promise that I would protect her. Unlike you, I cannot use strength or violence to fulfill that promise. This was the only way I could. They will never come to take her again.”
Squeezing Dalania tight to himself, the way he always had for his sister when she was upset, Raeln wondered how much more they would all give up if they intended to fulfill On’esquin’s insane quest to reach Dorralt.
Chapter Twenty
“Too Far To Quit”
Sitting atop a snow-dusted rise that overlooked the cracked terrain where they had found the tomb, Estin repacked his knapsack for the third time, trying to ensure he had everything he could jam in there. He had a small amount of food, a single change of wool clothing, and a roughly sketched map, thanks to Yoska.
“Is everything?” asked Yoska, standing over Estin, watching what he was doing. “You wish to leave us? Would be nice to talk about, no?”
“This isn’t open to discussion,” Estin replied without looking up. He tightened the clasp on the pack, sealing it against the latest snowstorm that had appeared on the western horizon. The trip would be cold and wet very soon.
“I find most everything is open to discussion when you are overly talkative. So, I say again, you wish to leave? Is okay if you wish to yell at me, as is still discussion, yes?”
Rounding on Yoska, Estin found he was not alone. Beside the gypsy, Raeln stood quietly, his swollen and bloodied arm in a makeshift sling. They had tended to his wounds as well as they could, but Turess’s ability to heal had proven as limited as Estin’s before he became too tired to walk. Raeln watched Estin with such worry that Estin had to avoid looking him in the eyes.
Off to the side of the group, sitting by himself, Turess stared toward the north, waiting for Yoska to tell him what was happening next. The man was as lost as Estin, though he appeared to be dealing with his new life far better.
Twenty feet away, Dalania and Feanne were sitting together silently, as they had since the group left the ravine where On’esquin was now entombed. Estin had not asked what had happened to them, and he did not need much insight to see both were horrified by something that had happened in that ravine. Feanne would not look Estin or Raeln in the eye, and Dalania seemed to be retreating into her own head, avoiding conversation with anyone.
“She’s hurt,” Estin said, hoping Feanne could not hear him. If she did she gave no indication. “Not physically…something’s scared her. I won’t lose her again for this. I can’t. This isn’t our fight anymore.”
Raeln followed Estin’s gaze and he nodded, lowering his head as he replied, “You’re right. You should go. You should’ve gone long ago. Get home to your children.”
“If only it were that simple,” answered Estin, laughing grimly. “Thousand miles across lands the Turessians probably control. Even with the difference in time that On’esquin claims we went through, from this far north, a straight trip back will still put us in Corraith nearly a year after we left. My children are only months old. I can’t let them grow up without their parents. I can’t do that.
“I’m guessing we’ll spend months avoiding Turessian patrols on the way. I’ll be lucky to get us back there before they turn three. Given the way things were when we left, Oria will be mated and have a horde of children of her own with the male who betrayed us to the enemy. I’d kind of like to get back before she makes any more mistakes that will put the other kits at risk.”
When the others did not reply, Estin checked the pack again. A bitter wind whipped across him, throwing back his hood with a snap. He hated to admit it to himself, but the idea of traveling that far terrified him. Staring at the dark clouds approaching only made him more concerned. He wanted his friends with him for the journey. He wanted all of them to stay together, no matter what.
“I wish you all well,” Estin said, sitting down and pulling the pack into his lap. “I…I wanted to see the Turessians lose. I’d have given anything for that. Anything but my children.”
Yoska glanced over his shoulder and then came over and squatted down beside Estin. “Is good to know you both agree on this departure,” the man said, giving Estin one of his bemused smirks. “The man and his wife should always see eye to eye in such things, yes?”
Estin knew Yoska was well aware that he had not spoken with Feanne yet. He could not fathom a reason she might disagree and had been giving her time to come to grips with whatever had happened while he was unconscious.
“How long was I out after I hit my head?” he asked Yoska, but the man just smiled. Looking past Yoska to Raeln, Estin repeated, “How long?”
“Not long,” replied Raeln. “A good bump on your head and a few scrapes. Not nearly enough to keep you down. I think you were out ten minutes at most.”
Estin scratched at his chest, where the gaping hole in his shirt lay open, dried blood caking both the shirt and his fur. Yoska had assured him Turess had managed to heal the wound there and on his neck, but Estin found that both still itched, as though they had healed…oddly. Without really thinking about it, he rubbed at his shoulder, where the scars from the day he had met Feanne lay hidden by his shirt.
Nodding, Estin relented. “I’ll talk with her. If we hurry we might be able to make it to that next set of hills before the storm hits. We can probably find shelter there.”
From where he sat over near the edge of the hill they were resting on, by the horses, Turess said something absently and likely to himself. Estin could not make any of it out.
Without looking back at Turess, Yoska translated, “Dead man says that the storm will bring death to thousands. He also says that staying here is as dangerous as going. He has waited long time for such a storm and he intends to weather it. On’esquin has given us the tools to live another day.”
“We’re talking about a snowstorm, right?” asked Estin, but Yoska shrugged.
“Is not my place to interpret, only to translate,” replied Yoska. “You should get ready, if you are to leave us, no?”
Agreeing, Estin got up and carried his pack over to where Feanne and Dalania sat. At his approach Dalania smiled meekly at him and hurried away, going over to sit beside Raeln as he practically fell onto his bedroll. The two said nothing, but Dalania quickly hugged him, apparently clinging to him for emotional support against something Estin had no information about.
Estin stood for a minute beside Feanne, hoping she would say something. When she did not, he moved in front of her and knelt, though she looked away, purposely avoiding his gaze. When he put a hand her on her paw, she flinched and pulled her foot under the blanket she had draped across her legs.
“We need to talk,” he tried, getting a nod in reply. She still looked anywhere but at him. “I’ve made a decision…”
“As have I,” Feanne answered, lowering her eyes to the ground at Estin’s feet.
“We need to go back to Corraith. No more delays. Our children need us.”
Feanne finally raised her eyes to look at Estin’s face and almost immediately tears came and she turned away, putting a hand over her face.
“What’s wrong?” asked Estin, reaching for her hand. Feanne flinched away initially, but then clasped his hand and squeezed tightly. “Have I done something?”
Shaking her head, Feanne answered, “No. I’ve learned something about myself that I am not happy about, Estin. I had forgotten how afraid I was of my change and what might happen to
people I care about. I hurt Raeln and you almost died because they had to restrain me before they could help you.”
“We made it through, Feanne.”
“That will only work out so many times. Lucky or not, there are limits, my love.”
“Another reason we need to go. Let’s put the war behind us and find our family. No more fighting. We’ll go be together somewhere safe. No more magic, changing into were-foxes, or anything else dangerous.”
Feanne laughed sadly, wiping away tears. “No, Estin. That is part of what I realized. There are no safe places anymore. I need to face the anger and control it the way I did before we met. I cannot go back to my children, if the slightest danger might push me to kill them while trying to protect them.”
“The trip will take months. We can figure this out on the way.”
Feanne finally fully turned to look at Estin, holding his hand tightly to keep him from moving away at all. She grabbed the back of his neck with her other hand, bringing her face close to his. “You may go. I will never blame you for doing so,” she said softly.
His heart skipping, Estin struggled to find words, managing to say only, “You’re sending me away?”
“No. I am telling you that if you want to go to our children, then go,” she countered, the muscles around her eyes trembling. “I will not walk away from this fight to attempt to have a normal life, no matter how much I want to. The war will find us again…it always has. Attacking Dorralt may draw the other Turessians back here...taking them far from our children. I would rather die with my children hating me forever than to lead this bloodshed back to them. If you believe you can return to the children without the Turessians following, I wish you luck in your travels. I don’t have that much faith, especially after all we have done to the Turessians. I cannot allow them to follow me back to the kits.”