by S H Cooper
Joseph and I hear the first voice at the same time. It’s rumbling and deep, made more so by the speaker’s poor attempt to keep it quiet. Joseph whips around to face it while I huddle deeper into my camouflaged bedding.
“You sure they went this way?” the voice asks.
“He said he saw them going in here,” a second man responds. He’s annoyed and impatient. Probably not the first time he’s had to answer that question.
“Then where are they?”
“I don’t know, you idiot! That’s why we’re looking. Now be quiet, before they hear you!”
Their footsteps are getting closer. Joseph lowers himself into a readied stance, his sword tip pointing in the direction of the voices, still bickering just out of sight. He’s so focused he doesn’t even see the third man sneaking toward him on tiptoe from behind. He’s small, scruffy, and dressed in old leathers. There’s something horse-like about his face. He’s passing right in front of me, but he doesn’t notice me. His attention is on my brother. One of his gloved hands starts to rise and I see the dagger blade meant for Joseph’s back.
Not Joseph. Not my best friend. Not after Father.
Don’t shout, Father’s voice drifts up from a memory. One of his lessons, given unknowingly to me while I’d watched him train his men. Don’t announce yourself. When you have the element of surprise, you have the upper hand.
I clench my teeth.
Don’t shout.
I launch myself out of my bedroll, my doll already swinging. I can’t help the grunt that escapes me when she cracks across the man’s shoulders with a heavy thud. Her arm snaps and remains in my hand while her body falls to the ground some feet away. The man yelps, more surprised than hurt, and he’s whirling around, the dagger leading. It catches my upper arm, dragging a thin line that quickly turns red. It stings terribly and I cry out, clutching at my new wound.
Joseph shouts in worry and rage. The voices swear. They’re running towards us, crashing through the underbrush. The small, horse-faced man turns between me and Joseph, slashing his dagger threateningly at both of us. My brother is trying to get himself between me and the man. His companions burst through the trees and skid to a stop beside him, their own weapons drawn.
Where are Drake and Torren?
“Is that her?” a pot-bellied man with the deep voice we’d heard first asks.
“She’s got the red hair, like he said. Of course it is!” the second man, a weaselly looking fellow, snaps.
“Lots of girls have red hair,” Pot-Belly grumbles.
“If you turn and leave now, we’ll let you go,” Joseph says. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
He sounds surprisingly authoritative. It would have been more believable if his sword wasn’t trembling slightly. Still, he stands before me, and I know he’ll fight if it comes to it. I don’t even have a stick to help him. Just the arm of my broken doll.
Pot-Belly chuckles, causing his stomach to jiggle, and the other two snicker along with him.
“Cut him down. We don’t need the lad,” Weasel instructs with a dismissive flick of his wrist.
Pot-Belly hefts his hammer with a dark grin. Horse-Face is trying to circle around to get behind us. Joseph wants to stand in front of me and shield me, but I’ve put myself back to back with him. It’s the only way to keep our eyes on all three of them. I chuck my doll’s arm at Horse-Face and kick leaves at him, trying to keep him distracted. He’s amused, laughing at me. He even jabs his dagger tauntingly at me a few times.
“Little hen’s got some spirit,” he says with a sneer.
It fades slightly when an arrow tipped with white feathers embeds itself into the ground between us.
It vanishes entirely when a roar follows.
The whole forest seems to fall silent for just a moment, and then a bear, huge and shaggy and brown, rears up from the underbrush. It curls its lips back over pointed teeth and roars once more. I swear the ground shakes when it lands heavily on all fours again and charges toward us.
There’s screaming and confusion. I’m pushed one way by my brother, another by Pot-Belly as he tries to scramble away, grabbed at by Horse-Face. The bear lumbers into him, knocking him away, and when I shriek, it swings its large head toward me. It flashes its teeth at me, two jagged rows of shiny white, but then is distracted by Weasel trying to sneak off behind it. Joseph is on the other side of the camp now, his sword up and swinging. I can’t tell if he’s trying to escape or chasing our attackers away. The bear is between us, but it’s snapping at Pot-Belly’s heels and I think I can get around it to Joseph.
Where are Drake and Torren?
I’m jerked backwards suddenly by my upper arm. It’s almost enough to take me off my feet, but I dig my heels into the ground at the last second and jab my elbow back as hard as I can. I don’t even have to think about it: after years of being playfully picked on by my brothers, a defensive elbow the gut when grabbed from behind is second nature. I’m rewarded with a strained gasp and do it a second time for good measure before turning.
Erik Loleck is bug eyed and clutching his stomach, his usually pale face reddened. The tips of his arrows poke out from their quiver over his shoulder and I immediately recognize the white feathers.
“You loosed that arrow,” I say.
“I was trying to help,” he replies, snippy and winded. Despite his annoyance, he tries to grab my arm again. “Come on, before those men come back, we have to get out of here!”
I swat his hand aside. “No! Not without my brothers and Torren.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are hunters after you, not to mention the bear! We’ll find the others soon enough. For now, we have to run!”
He must not notice the cut on my arm, because he closes his fingers over it. The wound throbs and stings badly and I push Erik back roughly with a grit-toothed growl. His mouth falls open at my brash refusal, and, despite how wrong everything is going, it makes me feel a tiny bit good. I’ve done nothing but be pushed and pulled and ordered around for two days. For my whole life. But I don’t want that. I don’t want to run!
“You go,” I snap. “I’m going to help my brothers.”
“Mary!”
“I’m not leaving!”
“The bear —”
“I don’t care!”
“Mary, it’s coming this way, run!”
It’s my turn to yank him along by the wrist. Running in bare feet and a dress is not easy, and Erik is only making it harder when he tries to take us in zigzags through the trees. The bear stomps at a lazy pace behind us, snorting and huffing all the while. I’m convinced I can almost feel its hot breath down my back. I don’t know what’s happened to my brothers or Torren, but looking back only shows me the bear and that it’s gaining on us.
“Erik!” I scream.
“I know! Just keep moving!”
Underbrush snaps and crunches behind us. The heavy padding of the giant animal is louder than our own footsteps. The faster I urge myself to go, the slower I feel like my legs move, like I’m wading through thick mud. I can’t keep up with Erik! Panic prickles across my skin, slithers in my stomach. The bear lunges. Erik is torn away from me beneath a mound of fur and fang and claw.
But when they hit the ground, there is no bear. Only Drake, kneeling with a triumphant grin over Erik, who has curled into a tight ball with his arms over his head.
“I told you to stay away from my sister, lad,” Drake says.
“Wha-what?” Slowly, Erik peeks out from beneath his arms. At the sight of my brother, he scoots backwards on his bottom and his fearful expression turns to a scowl. “What’s going on?”
“Where’s the bear?” I ask, mystified.
“You’re looking at him.” Torren appears beside me and lands smugly on my shoulder.
“You turned Drake into a bear?”
“No, that’s far more complicated than anything I can do. I just made him look like a bear,” she replies in a tone that implies I should know e
xactly what she means.
“An illusion.” Joseph has caught up with us. He’s gleeful and giddy while he explains. “We heard them coming long before they found us, so Torren and Drake hid long enough for her to work her magic.”
The very word, “magic”, makes his eyes shine with boyish excitement.
“I don’t think those three will be bothering us again,” Drake gloats.
Torren’s impish smile fades. “They were just the first, there will be more. Meverick won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
“You really know to suck the fun out of a victory,” Drake says with a sigh.
“That wasn’t a victory, lad. That was nothing. A few numbskulls who thought Mary was easy pickings.”
While Drake scoffs at Torren’s warning, my hands wring in front of me. “Didn’t they say someone told us where we were? Do you think we’re being followed?”
“Oh, aye,” Drake looks pointedly at Erik, who’s still sitting on the ground like he hopes not moving will keep any attention off of him. “I know we are.”
“But Erik wouldn’t have told them.” I might not be friends with Erik, but he’s no traitor. He’s too obsessed with rules to be.
“Of course not! I was following you, but only because I want to go, too,” Erik says. “I was resting not far from your camp when I heard them coming. When things were getting bad, I fired an arrow to scare them and then you showed up as a bear, and I tried to get Mary out of there. That’s it!”
Maybe I shouldn’t have felt so good about elbowing him in the gut after all. He was just trying to protect me.
“It might not be such a bad thing,” Joseph muses. “An extra set of eyes and ears never hurts.”
“But it’s Loleck,” Drake complains.
“An archer could be useful,” Torren adds.
“But. It’s. Loleck!” Drake says again.
“We’re on a dangerous path, lad. We should be grateful for any friendly faces we find along it,” Torren replies. “The fact that you’re so irritated is just an added bonus.”
“Come on, Drake,” I add an annoying note of pleading to my voice. As much as I would have loved to leave Erik behind, he’s already come this far and proven he wasn’t totally useless in a fight. I also haven’t forgotten he’d promised to teach me to use a sword. “He’s a skilled hunter and tracker. That might come in handy.”
Drake grumbles, eyeballing all of us unhappily. When we don’t give in, he sighs and takes three large steps to Erik. My brother plucks the smaller lad up off of the ground by the front of his tunic. They’re standing almost nose to nose and Erik’s throat bobs with a nervous gulp.
“Fine,” Drake says with a forced smile that borders on threatening. “You can come, Loleck, but if there’s any funny business…”
I don’t know what he means by “funny business” and glance at Torren curiously when she snickers.
She chuckles and pats my cheek. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, lass. You’ve got enough on your plate already.”
“We should get going,” Joseph says. “The sun’s just about up already.”
“Aye, let’s go,” Drake agrees and let’s Erik rock back on his feet. My brother makes an exaggerated show of straightening Erik’s wrinkled tunic. “Just remember what I said, lad. I’ve got my eye on you.”
He stalks back toward camp with Joseph at his side. Erik hangs back for a moment, his lips pulled into a thin, angry line, before following.
Beside me, Torren snorts and shakes her head.
“Bah, humans.”
Chapter Ten
With the day already slipping away from us, Drake is quick to pack up camp. After Torren bandages my cut with a strip of white cloth, Drake shows me how to properly roll up my bedding so it will sit neatly atop a pack. When I start to tie it to my own, he blows a sharp, amused breath through his teeth and takes it from me.
“I can carry it,” I tell him. My mouth tugs downward into a pout before I can stop it.
“Aye, for a little while, and then you’ll be slowing us down and complaining,” he retorts.
“I haven’t complained at all so far!”
Drake sits back on his heels and knots my bedroll over his. “True enough,” he says. He pauses, suddenly a bit awkward, and his large hands tap the top of his pack twice. He’s purposely avoiding eye contact. “You’ve done good, lass.” More gruffly, he adds, “Let’s keep it that way. Now go see if Joseph needs help.”
It’s as close to a compliment as I can remember Drake giving me. Could it be that I’ve impressed him? I hide the pleased smile that’s threatening to come out behind my hair and hurry off to Joseph. The fear those men had caused, and the idea more will come, still sits fairly heavily in my stomach, but there’s something else growing alongside it. A tiny little kernel of hope and even pride.
I’m beginning to feel like I won’t be entirely useless after all.
Before we leave our camp, my brothers bury our fire pit in dirt and kick up leaves in any spots that make it obvious someone spent the night there. They’re careful to make sure our tracks are covered and we’ve left nothing behind. I help as I can, following them around and trying to do as they do. Erik lurks off to one side, his arms crossed and his expression pinched and unhappy while he waits for us. He might as well be tapping his foot impatiently. Drake tells me to keep an eye out for footprints and to make sure I’ve picked up any pieces of my doll that might’ve broken off.
“It was a solid hit,” Torren says approvingly. She’s taken to sitting on my shoulder while we walk. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there are splinters all over.”
“Of course it was,” Drake replies casually. “She’s a McThomas.”
Two near-compliments in such a short amount of time almost has me glowing. I can feel myself walking straighter. There might even be a little swagger in my step, one to match Drake’s usual stride.
“Still, would be better if she’d used a proper weapon,” he continues before I can get too puffed up. “Even a branch would have been better.”
“Well, next time we get snuck up on, I’m sure Mary will see to it that she’s appropriately armed before making sure her brother doesn’t get stabbed in the back,” Torren says dryly.
I appreciate her coming to my defense, but Drake is one person I’ve never had a problem talking back to. “Oh, just a moment, Mr. Bad Man! I can only use a weapon from Drake’s approved list! You’ll wait for me to find something, won’t you?”
Torren and I giggle together while Drake blows us off with a put upon sigh.
“I liked it better when there was just you, Mary,” he says.
The fae grins and I feel her wings flutter against my cheek. “Too bad, lad! You’re stuck with me now, too!”
“There’s plenty of time for you three to have at it,” Joseph says, stepping in to play peacekeeper. “Why don’t we at least get back on the road before you start up.”
Torren suggests we avoid the roads. It will make our journey more difficult, but it will be safer. Even if we had been on well-worn paths, I doubt I would’ve been able to move much quicker. With the excitement over, all the aches and pains from the day before have come back to me. Just getting one foot to move in front of the other requires more energy than I feel I have. Drake leads us along the most open route he can find to make it easier on me, but it hardly makes a difference.
We’ve barely put our camp behind us before I’m biting my tongue to keep from asking to rest. The others pick up on it easily.
“This isn’t going to work,” Drake says. He doesn’t say it cruelly, but it stings all the same.
“I’m ok,” I respond.
The look he shoots me says my protest was as tired and thin as I feel.
“We won’t get far like this,” he continues.
“Aye,” Joseph agrees reluctantly. I know he wants to believe in me, but I’m not used to this life. “We have to do something.”
“I could carry her on my back,�
�� Drake muses.
“Then you’ll both just be tired,” Erik grumbles.
“What about you, lady fae? Can you use your magic?” Joseph asks hopefully, but Torren shakes her head.
“I had to use a lot of energy to cast that illusion on Drake,” she says. “I need rest before I can do something so large-scale again.”
They toss a few more ideas around, but each one is met with a reason it won’t work. Drake, especially, is getting frustrated. I hang my head, but I refuse to be defeated so early on. There must be a way that I can continue without being a problem for them.
“Gladfife,” I say suddenly.
The others stop talking and look at me.
“It’s to the north and west of Moorsden, right?”
“Aye, I believe so.” Joseph scrunches his brow in thought.
“And that’s the direction we’re going?”
“Yes,” Torren says, gesturing for me to get to the point.
“What if we bought a pack pony? It could carry our things and would make it easier on all of us.”
Gladfife is a proper city from what Father has said of it. Buildings of white stone, some as many as four stories high, guild halls for any trade you might think of, even a small castle overlooking it. I’d always thought it sounded like a magical place. Every few years, he’d travel to it to restock the village armory and meet with other high captains from around the hill lands. If we’d been good, he’d bring us candied fruits and sweet buns with custard fillings, a rare treat. Come summer, it would have been Drake and Joseph’s first time accompanying him.
A place like that has to have a pony, I reasoned to myself.
“Leave it to the little girl to want a pony at a time like this.” Erik laughs, expecting the lads to join in.
Drake just stares at him with the most unimpressed, flat expression he can manage and Erik falls into sour silence again. Joseph ignores him completely. He’s scratching his chin thoughtfully.