What’s she looking at? Preta shakes her head, unable to make out what’s going on in Agna’s mind, and after a few seconds, she doesn’t care. She swigs water, pushing down the dry ball of bread, and she returns to hell where she belongs.
Yaz leans over and places all the wood within reach onto the embers. “I’m gonna piss.”
Preta snaps away from her trance and pops off the ground. “Me too.”
She makes her way through the pitch-black in the opposite direction of Yaz. She trips over a root, and a pine branch swipes her in the head. “Shoot.” Preta rubs her face and spits out a clump of pine needles. “Okay, that’s far enough.” Preta pees and stares at the glowing fire, not realizing how bright and warm it was until she was away from the flames.
Back at the shelter, Agna gets in first and lies down.
Yaz climbs in next, and Preta huddles next to him. He pulls his bearskin over top of both of them.
No one speaks.
Preta lies in her brother’s arms and relaxes for the first time in hours. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, she closes her eyes and falls asleep within a minute.
“Dammit, Yaz, get up!” Deet says.
SEEING GHOSTS
Preta, feeling as if she just closed her eyes a minute earlier, she sits up in a fright. “Deet?”
The bright sun shines on her face as she blinks, her vision blurry.
Deet, hands on hips, hovers over top of them. “Yaz, I can’t believe you, just what we need.” He turns away, groans, and kicks the dirt.
Yaz sits up and wipes his eyes. “Brother, you made it.”
“Of course I made it.” Deet scowls, dry blood randomly speckled on his face, he wipes his sweaty brow, smearing the perspiration and red dots into thin crimson streaks.
With an exaggerated yawn, Yaz stands up and stretches out his arms. “No need for hostilities, and it’s good to see you too.”
Deet snorts. “What would be good would be to see Berta and our gear. Unless you hid them somewhere out of sight.”
“What?” Yaz frantically scans the clearing. “No!” He slaps his hands behind his head and hops on one leg. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”
“Yeah, shit,” Deet says, lowering his gaze, his slow cloudy breath visible with every exhale as it mixes with the cool air. “So you didn’t stay up and guard the camp? You’re lucky they left you with your throats.”
“Ah, ah, ah, you—!” Yaz punches the sky twice.
Deet sighs and sways his head in disappointment. “Yaz, inventory what we have left.”
Yaz stops with wide eyes as if punched in the gut. “Nala!” He quickly hobbles to where Berta was tethered and circles the pine tree. He slaps the bark with his palm. “Damned bastards.” Yaz lifts Nala’s sheet-covered body off the ground and carries her to Deet.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of her, Yaz.”
“Dee, where’s your horse?” Preta says.
“Took two arrows and had to put him down. Though we should have a head start on Lomasie and his goons. Still, we need to move right now.” Deet points at the forest. “Preta, Agna, gather wood and make a fire bed. It’s time we say our goodbyes.”
In silence, they gather sticks and branches and logs and bring them to Yaz, who builds the fire bed.
Deet places Nala on the wood pile and kisses her forehead. “You were our rock and made us strong. We love you, and you’ll never be forgotten, Sister.” Deet extends his hand to Yaz.
Yaz glances at Deet then back to Nala. He shakes his head no and looks away as he wipes his wet, bloodshot eyes.
“Preta?” Deet says, gently placing his hand on her back.
Preta wipes her eyes. She sniffs. “Goodbye, Nala. You did your best after mother died, and we’ll always love you and never—” Preta snorts and wipes her eyes again. “Goodbye, Sister.”
They stand in silence for a minute, lost in their own emotions and memories.
Deet moves away from Preta and removes a half-charred branch from the fire pit, and he wedges it underneath Nala’s wooden bed.
Soon, flames engulf Nala. The heat radiating off is too much to handle and Preta steps away as she wipes her eyes from the burning tears and smoke.
The fire completely consumes Nala’s body, taking her away in a blaze.
Preta remembers the good times with her sister, the fire burning deep within her tongue and soul. She smiles, wondering who is burning whom—the fire burning Nala, or Nala burning the fire.
Preta grabs Yaz’s hand and squeezes hard.
Yaz tries to smile but can’t. He gazes back at the fire and lets go of her hand.
Agna stares at Preta and not the fire. With sad eyes and a faint smile, she nods.
“It’s time to go,” Deet says, turning away from his older sister. “Finish saying your goodbyes and do your business. We leave in five minutes.”
Deet walks over to Yaz, who is standing in front of a giant willow tree. He wraps his arm around him.
Preta leans in to listen to what Deet is saying.
“Never forget that, Yaz. Now, how bad did they get us last night?”
“Bad, Brother.” Ashamed, he looks down at the ground. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful.”
“What’s done is done. How bad did they get us?”
Yaz points around the clearing to various areas of the camp. “Besides the obvious—all the food and bags not with us in the shelter. We still have most of our water, a few days of food, and important weapons. But they got the spare weapons, and the bag.”
“The the bag?” Deet says, opening his eyes wider.
“Yeah, Brother, sorry, the bag.”
“Crap—”
Yaz sighs. “I’m so stupid.”
“How about the map?” Deet says.
“I kept it on me,” and Yaz pats his front pants pocket.
“Well, at least we have that.”
Agna joins them and places her hands on hips. “The bag?”
Yaz rubs his eyes. “All of our coin and valuables.” He turns to Deet. “Do you have anything left?”
On the ground, on Yaz’s bearskin, Deet dumps the contents of his small, cracked leather pouch and one gold nib, silver equivalent to two whole, and coppers amounting to twenty fall out. He then tosses five paper Iinian credits equal to two silver on the coin pile.
Yaz turns over two pouches; one silver equivalent and thirty coppers tumble onto the pile.
Agna over turns her pouch, and one silver and six coppers fall out.
Deet pokes the pile with his finger. “One gold nib, six silver, fifty-six coppers. Agna, how much for passage to Iinia?”
Agna shrugs. “Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll find passage for a gold nib a piece or equivalent—if we’re lucky.”
Deet pokes the pile again. “That means we’re around one gold nib short for the four of us.”
“If we’re lucky,” Agna says, reminding him again.
“Right, we’ll worry about the money when the time comes. Gather your things and let’s go. I’ll lead. Yaz, cover the rear.”
“How far to the other side of the Yelton?” Preta says.
“Two days, but keep your eyes sharp, lots of dangers and those Acue may still follow us into the forest.”
Preta hikes close behind Deet, and after an hour, the path transforms into a small game trail. Eventually, the trail disappears altogether, and they hack through the brush. To keep her mind occupied, she counts from zero to a hundred, and after a hundred, she starts all over again.
Deet stops next to a small creek and crouches down, sticking his cupped hands in the slow moving water. He splashes the cool water in his face. “We’ll stop here for a few minutes. Break out the food, Preta.”
Preta drops her things. “I have to go,” and she runs toward a clump of thick bushes.
Deet nods at Agna. “Can you go with my sister?”
“No problem, I’ll keep her safe.”
“Thanks, we can’t be to careful in these wood
s, we’ve been lucky so far, I hope it stays that way.”
Preta makes her way deeper into the brush and squats behind a bush.
Yaz wanders into the woods fifty paces away from her.
“You remind me of one of my daughters when she was your age,” Agna says.
“Where’s your daughter now?”
“One lives in Ardinia, and the other lives in Bielston with her husband.”
Preta smiles. “Maybe we’ll see them soon.”
“Maybe,” Agna says, and then she sighs.
“Agna, I know you know more than you’re letting on. I saw you at the wedding when I killed the bird. And you were so close when the light hit me, and you know stories.”
“You’re very perceptive, Preta Penter. There are others like you in the world.”
“So are you like me?”
Agna chuckles. “No, and yes.”
Confused, Preta squints. “No, and yes? So that means you can do what I do?”
“Yes, and no.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“It’s not that simple, as you will someday learn.”
“Then what about the boy?”
Agna takes in a deep inhale and sighs. “His grandfather was bringing him to me for safekeeping.”
“Well, that didn’t work out so good,” Preta says.
“No—no, it didn’t.”
Preta pulls up her baggy wool trousers as she stands. “Why do—” She freezes and stares in Yaz’s direction. “Did you hear that?”
Agna tilts her head and peers into the thick trees, thin rays of morning light beam through the canopy. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Preta steps forward and shifts a large pine bough to the side. “I thought I heard Yaz yell, ‘Nala.’”
“You did—when?”
Preta holds up her finger. “Shhh—there—there it is again. He said, ‘Nala, is that you?’”
“Impossible.” Agna grabs Preta’s arm. “Let’s get back to Deet.”
They step on flat rocks poking through the flowing water and cross the small creek.
Deet, leaning against the base of a large pine with his head back and eyes closed, is off in his own world.
Agna hobbles behind Preta. She stops with hands on hips as she takes deep wheezing breaths.
Preta shakes Deet’s shoulder. “Wake up.”
“Huh?” Deet says, licking his lips and opening his eyes. “Ah—Preta. Ready to go already?”
“No, hey, did you hear Yaz? He yelled, ‘Nala.’”
“Slow down, what are you talking about?”
“Yaz, he yelled, ‘Nala,’ and then he ran into the woods after her.”
“What?” Deet turns toward Agna. “Did you hear anything?”
“No, nothing,” and she shrugs. “Though these old ears aren’t what they used to be.”
Deet pushes off the tree and grabs his sword. “Which direction did you see him go?”
Preta points to a row of short scraggly pine trees. “Over there.”
Deet nods at their packs. “Grab your things. We need to split up Yaz’s gear and bring it with us, it’s too easy to get lost in these woods.”
Deet rifles through Yaz’s pack and divides his belongings between Preta and Agna. “Preta, lead the way, and Agna, stay close.”
A GOOD LAUGH
Preta ducks under a low-hanging branch, and with conviction, she points to the right. “This is where I saw Yaz. He walked through this clearing calling for Nala.”
“Be vigilant,” Agna says, “and don’t trust what you can’t see.”
Preta races ahead, skipping over branches and weaving through the pine stumps and deadfall. She stops and presses her hand against a tree. “This is the last place I heard him, Dee.”
Deet spins around and steps in circles, looking in all directions for any sign of Yaz. “Do you hear that?”
“No,” Preta says, tilting her head to the side and concentrating harder. “What do you hear?”
“It sounded like…”
Agna shrugs at Preta. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Deet’s eyes narrow as he peers into the trees. “There—there it is again. Lurrus—Lurrus?” His eyes open wide, and he takes off running toward the voice.
Agna reaches out to grab Deet, but he slips through her sweaty fingers. “No! Deet, don’t listen.” Agna shakes Preta’s arm. “Go after your brother and stop him. But whatever you do, don't let me out of your sight, and only listen to my voice.”
Preta nods and takes off after Deet. She skips with speed over the brambles and dodges the branches.
Deet moves faster and faster away from her.
“Deet, Deet, stop, Deet!” Preta waves her arms, trying to get his attention.
He ignores Preta, fixed on his path and he doesn’t acknowledge anything but the voice he’s tracking. Deet gallops as if on the hunt, closing in on his wounded prey.
Preta is losing ground on her brother, and she peeks back at Agna, who is barely in sight. She continues forward, then nothing—he’s gone. Preta’s alone. She spins around, scanning in every direction. Deet, dammit, where did you go? She takes two steps and stops, spins back, and takes two more steps, then stands still. Preta doesn’t know which way Deet or Agna went. She bends over and places her hands on her knees. What the heck, Yaz? She shakes her head in frustration. “Shoot.”
“Preta,” Yaz says with pain in his voice. “I’m over here.”
She turns toward Yaz’s voice. “Yaz, is that you?”
“Yes, over here, come here, I need your help.”
Preta steps forward toward Yaz’s voice then she immediately stops and scolds him. “What are you doing running off like that?”
“Preta, come to me.”
Preta’s eyes narrow as she remembers Agna’s warning. “No, Yaz. You come to me, follow my voice.”
“Preta, come to me, I’m over here.”
“No, you come here. I don’t want to get lost again.”
“Please, come to me, I need your help, my leg, it hurts so bad, please.”
Preta scans the forest. “Shoot, Agna. Where are you?” She continues walking toward Yaz’s voice.
“Stop, Preta!” Agna says, waving her arms at Preta. “Where are you going?”
Preta, oblivious, ignores Agna’s voice and keeps moving away from her.
Agna grabs Preta’s shoulder, shaking her hard. “Hey, snap out of it.”
“Yaz?” Preta says.
“No, it’s me, it’s Agna.”
“Yaz—Agna?” Preta blinks as Agna comes into focus. “I just heard Yaz over there.” She points to evergreen bushes on a mound.
“It’s important you stay close to me,” Agna says. “We’ve wandered into a leshy’s territory.”
Preta, scratching her temple, arches her brow trying to think if she ever heard of a leshy. “What’s a leshy?”
“A leshy is a forest guardian. We’re in his realm, and that realm is deadly if we’re not careful.”
“Will Yaz and Deet be all right?”
“We have to find them soon, or they may not be. And if we can’t reason with the leshy, we may have to kill it.”
Preta stands straight up and peers through the trees for any sign of the leshy. “Will we use the light?”
“You were right, Preta; I do have a similar power to you though it’s not entirely like yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“No time to explain right now, we only have one shot at this, so, no matter what, control yourself and don’t waste your light.”
“I don’t understand; we both have a light.”
Agna walks toward the evergreen clump. “Under our current situation, we have the power to cast the light one time, together.”
“One time meaning what?” Preta tries to follow along as she wipes her sweaty brow with her sleeve sweater.
“Meaning until a full twenty-four-hour cycle from the last time we cast a spell. If we cast the light
, we won’t have a light until then.”
“Okay, so show me now. You have one, and I have one, so that’s two, so get my brothers back.”
“It’s not that simple,” Agna says, shaking her head in frustration, not wanting to explain anymore. “Besides, you can’t control or do anything on your own at your age, at least not useful. And I need your light to cast a proper spell anyway.”
Preta scratches her ear. “Huh?”
“You uncontrollably connect to horses and shoot birds out of the sky, and I connect to you and perform something real.”
Preta talks with her hands. “Then we’re wasting time. Perform and get my brothers back.”
“Patience, Preta, there are other ways to get what we want. First, let’s head to where the leshy called out for you last. You lead the way, and whatever happens control your connection. It’s imperative you don’t use it, and don’t look back, and never run again either unless you see your brothers for real this time—got it?”
“All right, but what does he want with Deet and Yaz?”
“Who knows, maybe he’s lonely, or maybe he just wants something to eat.”
Preta flinches. “Did you say eat?”
“Yes, or maybe he wants neither of those and wants something else. I don’t know the mind of a leshy, Preta, but we need to go if you ever want to see your brothers again.”
Preta, not needing any more explanation, takes off in a gallop and weaves her way through the forest. She reaches a clearing fenced-in with dense spiky yellow trees. In the clearing’s center, stands a giant tree, leafless, the base the size of two carts, the bark a shade reminiscent of bone, and in the trunk’s center, a hollow opening Preta would be able to stand inside without bending over. The wide, crooked branches don’t extend away from the tree until twenty feet in the air. Preta circles in place in awe of the towering presence casting its will over the entire clearing. Then Preta peeks behind her and Agna’s gone. “Agna?” Preta shakes her head. “Dang it, not again.” Her eyes narrow in frustration, and she continues forward, passing by the bone tree then squeezing through the yellow spiked tree fence. Preta stands with hands on hips. “What the heck?”
“I’m over here, Preta,” Agna says.
Wintermore (Aeon of Light Book 1) Page 17