by Pati Nagle
“Shit!”
I looked at the gas gauge Empty.
Took out my cell phone, but there were no bars up there in the middle of the mountains.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
I hit the button for the blinkers, then cried. Useless, and dangerous if she was still after us. After a couple of sobs I pulled myself together.
Rain was coming in the window, drenching me. There was broken safety glass in my lap—little sharp nuggets. I opened the door and more spilled out onto the pavement. I got out of the car and carefully brushed the stuff off my lap, then picked a few nuggets off my car seat. Even in the dark, I could tell that the driver door was seriously crunched.
I got back in, pulled the door shut, and locked it. I know, I know.
Savhoran hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said anything. I had a sudden fear he’d give up.
“Do we stay in the car or get out?”
“Stay.”
“But if she follows us, we’re toast.”
“There is no shelter nearby. I cannot walk far.”
Shit.
I turned in my seat to face him. He looked ghastly, and I knew it wasn’t just the light from the dashboard.
“Savhoran, you need blood.”
I hadn’t used the b-word before. He shook his head and stared at his feet.
“We don’t have a choice. You need to be strong if she comes for us. I’m counting on you.”
“It would strengthen me, but weaken you.”
“She’d swat me like a fly anyway. You’re my only hope.”
He spoke through gritted teeth. “I would rather die than hurt you.”
“Would you rather we both died?”
He didn’t say anything. The look on his face was awful.
I realized what I had to do.
I reached down and scooped up a handful of glass nuggets from my footwell. Got a few little cuts just doing that. Then I took a deep breath, and squeezed.
Savhoran gasped. “Amanda! No!”
I dropped the glass. I could feel the wet dripping from my hand.
“Sorry,” I said, holding it out toward him.
He gave a strangled sound, then grabbed my hand and started sucking. It didn’t scare me or creep me out. What I felt was relief.
Through his khi I could tell just how bad off he’d been. He needed this.
I leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes. Tried to relax, and not think about what we were actually doing.
My thoughts drifted back to the blood donor center, where all this had started. That was the first time I saw the alben. Bitch must have been attracted to the smell of the blood.
After a few minutes—less time than it had taken for me to donate a pint of blood—Savhoran raised his head.
“Enough. We must stanch the bleeding.”
I didn’t have stanching materials. My clothes were all wet. Savhoran pulled off his tunic and wrapped it around my hand.
“It’ll stain!”
“No matter.”
He held my bundled hand in both of his. I imagined I could feel a tiny healing tingle. He met my gaze with sad eyes.
“I wish you had not done that.”
“I apologize. Afraid I can’t take it back.”
“Never do that again.”
I’d only heard that tone in his voice once before: when he claimed the kill of the alben.
“I promise I won’t. Just get us out of this, OK?”
He nodded. “I can travel now. We will be safer away from the car. Can you walk?”
“Sure. Let’s get to a high place. Maybe I’ll get a signal on the cell.”
We got out. I slung my pack over my shoulder and stuffed the car keys in my pocket. I’d have some explaining to do to Len—her car was a mess—but first we had to survive.
Abandoning the car, we hiked up the highest piece of mountain at hand. The rain had lightened, but it was cold and I started to shiver. After a few minutes of climbing I was winded. Savhoran picked me up and started up the slope carrying me as if my weight made no difference to him.
He got us up to the top of our mountain and put me down. I pulled out my cell and tried to find a signal. Had to wander around the mountain top a bit, but I finally pulled up enough bars to make a call.
Len answered on the third ring. “Hi, Man. Any luck?”
“Yeah. All bad.”
I explained how we’d encountered the alben, and how I’d veered the wrong way and run us out of gas in the middle of the mountains. Oh, and that the alben was probably after us.
I didn’t talk about the damage to the car. Time enough for that later, if we made it back to Guadalupita alive.
“Can you come pick us up? Maybe with a posse from the clan?”
“We’ll have to borrow a car.”
“We’re on a mountain top, north of the road,” I said, realizing this might not work. “My phone works up here but not down on the road.”
“We’ll get there, don’t worry. Did Savhoran get a chance to feed?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“Caeran wants to talk to him.”
I held the phone out to Savhoran. He spoke briefly with Caeran in ælven, then gave it back. Caeran had hung up, so I shoved it in my pocket.
“I guess we wait up here,” I said.
Savhoran shook his head. “I told Caeran we would retrace our path on foot. The alben thinks we are in the car. When she finds it, she will begin to search for us, but she is more likely to search beyond it than over the ground we already traveled.”
“OK. So we keep the road in sight?”
“When it is safe to do so. How is your hand?”
I unwrapped it. Couldn’t see well enough to examine it, but I knew I had several cuts, some kind of deep. They had mostly stopped bleeding.
“Guess you don’t want this back,” I said, dabbing a little ooze of blood with the tunic.
He took it from my hands and threw it down the mountain, on the east side. “She will follow the blood. It may give us some time.”
He started down the mountain. I ran to catch up with him.
“Wait!”
He turned. I grabbed him in a hug.
“I love you, OK?”
He embraced me gently, briefly, then stepped away. I took what I could get.
We scrambled down the mountain and began to backtrack, keeping to woods when we had them, hurrying across any open spaces. It wasn’t long before I gave up trying to keep up with Savhoran. Now and then he’d pause and wait for me.
I had to rest more and more often. Finally Savhoran picked me up and carried me for a while. I can’t say I didn’t like it, but I was worried it would make him tired.
It was not downhill all the way but I could tell we were gradually descending. I began to hope that we’d make it out of the mountains and I’d be able to call Len.
We came over a rise and I could just glimpse a valley with a couple of lights down in it. We crossed a meadow a stone’s throw from the road, heading for the woods on the far side. Once under the trees I couldn’t see the valley any more, but I felt more safe.
Savhoran grunted and dropped me.
Oh, shit!
I tried to curl into a ball but I still bashed my elbow hitting the ground. Hurt like crazy but I didn’t have time to freak out.
The alben was coming across the meadow.
Savhoran was on his knees. I touched his shoulder and got a taste of what he was feeling. The alben was doing her nasty evil pain thing on him.
I should have run. Any sane person would have, but I was angry and not really sane at that moment.
I looked around for rocks, tree branches, anything I could throw or swing. She was coming fast. With no weapon, I resorted to sports.
I threw myself at her knees.
She wasn’t expecting it; probably focused on Savhoran. She let out a startled yelp and went down. That broke her concentration. Savhoran surged to his feet.
Before she could get up, he was o
n her. I could feel his fury right through the air. It was fast, and I couldn’t see well, but I heard bones cracking.
She let out one shriek. In the silence that followed, my ears rang with the sound of it.
Savhoran stood up. I couldn’t see his face.
I looked toward the alben. Not breathing, and her head was at an angle that was…wrong.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Enormous relief, but my gentle Savhoran was a killer. It was heartbreaking.
“We can walk on the road now,” he said.
He turned and started down. I followed slowly.
Now that the tension was over, tears streamed down my face. I wiped them away with my uninjured hand. Tried not to sniffle.
I don’t know how long we walked. It started to rival my forced hike into the mountains. My leg muscles let me know they were not amused. I was cold and felt battered. I started lagging behind.
We were just coming down into the valley where I’d seen the lights, when a car coming toward us started honking. We stepped back from the shoulder. The car, a pickup that had seen better decades, pulled up next to us and stopped, windshield wipers flapping.
“Manda! Are you all right?” Caeran called.
“Yeah. Fine.” I waved my good hand.
Len jumped out of the driver’s side and ran around to hug me. Lomen, Faranin, and Bironan piled out of the truck bed and surrounded Savhoran. They pelted him with questions in ælven. He gave mostly one-word answers.
Caeran got out and stood listening. When Faranin said something to him he nodded.
The next second, the rest of the ælven took off back into the mountains with Savhoran in the lead. I bit back a protest. They were going to deal with the alben.
Len made me get into the truck between her and Caeran. “God, you’re freezing!” she said, and cranked the heater up.
She insisted that I tell her what had happened. I gave her the short version.
The drive back to Madóran’s didn’t take as long as I’d expected. Savhoran and I had covered a lot of ground. When I moved my legs, I remembered it. I started wishing our host had a hot tub, like Len had teased him about.
Madóran stood waiting for us on the front portal. He took one look at me, said something to Caeran, then picked me up and carried me into the house. Caeran opened doors while Madóran carried me to my room.
“I cannot take you to the treatment room,” Madóran said. “Pirian is still there.”
I didn’t want to think about Pirian. Right now, the idea of an alben under the same roof as me was too much. I clung to Madóran until he set me down on my own bed. He lit a fire and then came to examine me.
He looked at my hand, sent Len for some water and bandages, then knelt in front of me. To my surprise he didn’t work on my hand, but put his hands on my knees instead. The heat seeped down into my calves like melted butter. I think I let out a moan.
By the time Len came back, my legs felt great. Madóran gently washed the cuts on my hand, bandaged it with gauze, then held it between both of his hands. The pain faded. I sighed with relief.
Len took away the water bowl and stuff. Caeran stayed in the room.
“They’re coming back, right?” I asked him.
He nodded. “We burn our dead. It must be done so as not to endanger the forest. They will return when they have finished.”
I thought of a pyre deep in the woods, with no mourners. It was decent of them to give her the honor of what I guessed was a proper ælven funeral. More than I would have done.
“I really need a shower,” I said, trying to distract myself. I lifted my bandaged hand. “I suppose I shouldn’t get this wet?”
“If you do, I will bandage it again. Your comfort is more important.”
I took a long, hot shower with my injured hand resting on top of the shower head. Dressed in clean clothes, I felt a lot better. I was dog tired but too wired to go to sleep, and I wanted company. I went to the kitchen.
Everybody was there. Madóran was making hot cocoa. Len and Caeran were sitting at the table eating zucchini bread. Comfort food.
I fetched a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, chugged, and filled it again. Madóran served the cocoa and we all sat at the table.
“Amanda, will you tell us what happened?”
I swallowed a mouthful. Again, I told the short, non-blood-drinking version. Madóran asked a couple of questions. He looked sad when I described Kanna’s death.
“She was a troubled soul,” he said. “May she find peace in the spirit realm.”
“I guess we can go home now,” Len said, putting down her mug, “When should we leave?”
“Perhaps tomorrow,” Caeran said, “but I would like to speak with the others before we go.”
“No hurry.”
I sat trying to relax my hands, which were clenched around my mug. I didn’t want to leave without talking to Savhoran.
No, I didn’t want to leave unless Savhoran came too.
I was a guest. Madóran had housed and fed me for weeks. I had no right to demand more, and now that the problem was resolved, no excuse to stay.
“Hey.” Len touched my arm. “You OK?”
I half shrugged, half nodded. I drank the last of my cocoa.
Len grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
She dragged me out to the portal and went to the nearest door in the glass wall. While she worked the latch open I finally realized we were free.
We went out into the moonlit garden. The moon was waning and had just risen, casting shadows westward. The fountain sparkled in its pale light.
I took a deep breath. The garden was peaceful. A haven. No crazed alben jumping down from the roof.
I heard a door open and looked up. Pirian had come out.
My heart skipped. I nudged Len. We both watched him, ready to run.
He was moving slowly. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him on his feet since the cave. A dim recollection of my gratitude made me decide maybe he wasn’t looking for a late-night snack.
“You need not fear,” Pirian said. “I have given my word to Madóran not to harm you. Either of you.”
He sat in one of the garden chairs and let out a sigh. Len and I exchanged a glance, then strolled a little closer.
“Are you feeling better?” Len asked.
“I am no longer in pain,” Pirian said, “but I am still rather weak.”
Len sat in another chair a few feet away from him. I danced back and forth for a second, then gave in and pulled up a third chair. As I dragged it over to them, I noticed Caeran watching from the portal. I immediately felt better.
I sat and looked at Pirian. He had his back to the moon—on purpose?—so I couldn’t see his face well. He sure did look convalescent, but at least he didn’t radiate hunger like he had before.
“Madóran told us about Clan Ebonwatch,” I said.
Pirian waved a hand. “They are long gone.”
“He thinks there could be a new clan like that. Keeping the…”
Not faith. I looked to Len for help.
“The creed.”
Pirian scoffed. “Yes, Madóran clings to his creed.”
I glanced at Caeran. “The others—”
“There are any number of fools who follow that painful path. You will not find me among them. I have pain enough.”
Discouraging. I was afraid it wouldn’t take much to make Savhoran agree with him.
“It would be less lonely,” Len said.
“If I were lonely, I would have sought Kanna’s company. We have a common loss.”
“You loved Gehmanin,” I blurted.
Pirian turned his head to stare at me. “Many loved him. He loved only himself, for the most part.”
The bitterness in his voice made me regret what I’d said. Not because it wasn’t true, mind.
“I suppose Madóran tried to convince him that Ebonwatch could rise again,” Pirian added.
Len shrugged. “Gehmanin wouldn’t list
en. If he had…”
Yeah. Knowing what I knew about Gehmanin, I was glad he hadn’t listened.
I felt a little sorry for Pirian, though. He came here looking for someone he loved, and learned that person had been killed. At least his reaction wasn’t as extreme as Kanna’s.
“Has Madóran told you about the research?” I asked.
Len sat up straight, looked at me, and gave her head a slight shake.
“We have not discussed much,” Pirian said.
I ignored Len. “Because he’s working on a cure for the curse.”
“There is no cure.”
“Not yet. Give it a few years.”
Pirian slowly turned his head toward Len. “I see. So that is why he tolerates you.”
“Tolerate is the wrong word,” Madóran said from behind me.
I turned in my chair to look at him. He had a cup of cocoa in his hand. To my surprise, he gave it to Pirian.
“I have learned there is much merit in humans,” he said. “I welcome their friendship.”
Pirian sniffed the chocolate, then took a sip. He shook his head. “They live too briefly. Why invest your feelings in them?”
“As a people, they have accomplished much. Perhaps more than we.” Madóran gestured toward the cup. “They discovered chocolate. They harnessed electricity. They created machines that fly.”
“Useful, I admit. I imagine I will be making use of one shortly.”
“You’re leaving?” I said, trying to keep from sounding hopeful.
“I have no reason to stay.” Pirian took a deep pull on his cocoa. “And since I have promised not to feed on Madóran‘s guests, I must find sustenance elsewhere.”
“You would be welcome to settle here, if you will keep to that pledge,” Madóran said.
I gaped at him. Let an alben stay in Guadalupita?
“I have plenty of land,” Madóran continued. “Caeran’s kin are building a house. You could do the same.”
“Ah—these would be the couple who left shortly after I arrived?” Pirian said. “Are you sure they would not mind?”
I was sure they would, but it was none of my business.
“I think they would see reason, so long as you agreed not to hunt within, say, twenty leagues,” Madóran said.
Pirian chuckled. “So what I heard is true. You are an incurable optimist.”
Madóran‘s face froze for a second. “That is why I came here.”