by Brindi Quinn
I strained my eyes at the robed person, though I don’t know what I hoped to accomplish. Nyte shouldn’t have been talking to anyone, and even if I could’ve seen the stranger clearly, there was no way I’d have known who they were.
What are you up to? The two of them were huddled together and glancing around shiftily. I’m sure there’s an explanation, but still . . . It gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I continued to stare, but when Nyte lifted his eyes to the window, I ducked to dodge his line of sight. Had he seen me? I refrained from peeking through the bars again, not wanting to chance being found out.
Kantú was still muttering under her breath, unaware of my stint of spying. The unexplained meeting between Nyte and the robed man left me fidgety. I decided I’d confront him about it as soon as we left the mercantile. But I hoped he’d mention it without my prodding.
“Get what ya want, Buck?” said the small boy.
Scardo and Grotts were back at the counter, their hands full of yellow korrofruit and bread.
“Is there anything else you need, Miss H . . . Aura?” said Scardo.
I grinned at his almost slip up, but then I grew anxious. Should I mention what I’d just seen?
“No. Thanks.” I looked at the floor.
Grotts studied me with suspicion.
“Shouldn’t someone do something about her?” The boy nodded casually at Kantú, who was still muttering crossly.
Grotts, who hadn’t noticed previously, quickly dropped his load on the counter and ran to her. He went about trying to sooth the pouting girl, but she only pouted more at his fawning.
Scardo rummaged through his tuxedo pocket for payment, pulling out various scraps of cloth and dried petals as he did.
The small boy rubbed his chin and looked me up and down intently.
“I like you,” he said after a moment. “Come back sometime. I’ll give you a special discount on a cutlass!”
“Uh, thanks.” I smiled weakly.
“Shall we, Miss Heart?” Scardo motioned to the door.
This time I ignored the title. I was beginning to see that it was pointless to try breaking the habit.
I nodded and followed him through door, eager to confront Nyte.
But my confrontation would have to wait. On the other side was a shocking sight.
Rend was slumped on the ground, unconscious. Nyte stood over her, his arm raw and bloody, as though he’d been burned by something. Something searing. On his face was a look of paranoia and distress.
“Help me get her up!” He struggled to lift the lanky Elf, but was only able to pull her up slightly.
“W-what happened!?” asked Scardo. He rushed over and grabbed her other side.
“Nyte! You’re bleeding!”
I reached for his arm and inspected the gash, but he winced when my fingers touched his skin, so I pulled back, afraid to cause him more pain.
“I am fine, but we must leave NOW!”
That was when Grotts and Kantú came trotting through the door. Kantú appeared to be in high spirits once more, but when she caught sight of the scene, she immediately started chittering nervously.
“What’s going on? Nytie, what’s wrong with your arm?!”
Grotts hurried to help the struggling Scardo by hoisting Rend up in his arms. She most certainly would’ve protested had she been awake.
“Let us go!” Nyte tugged on my arm.
“But Nyte, your arm!”
“Explain yourself, Elf!” demanded Scardo.
“I will in a moment!” Nyte looked around tensely. “I ask you to trust me! Now come on!”
Trust him? Did this have something to do with the robed man? I felt a pinch of hesitation.
Had witnessing the strange encounter hampered my trust in him?
No, I still felt that familiarity – that safety. Though the sick feeling had yet to leave my stomach, that inexplicable sense of trust was still there too.
“Okay,” I said.
Nyte looked relieved. He pulled on my hand and led me away from the mercantile. I looked around anxiously to see what the people of Cana thought of our sudden chaos, but the street was now completely deserted. There was no sign of the sleazy woman, the robed man, or any of the geezerly onlookers.
Just what had occurred in the short time between my looking out the window and exiting the store? Whatever it was had happened extremely fast.
Nyte ushered us to the abandoned building we’d passed on our way through town. Like a fugitive, he glanced apprehensively over his shoulder the whole way. Even so, when we reached the door, we followed him in, unspeaking and unsure and struggling to keep up with his longer-than-usual strides. His distress had rubbed off on the rest of us, and we now all felt a sense of paranoid urgency in lieu of the unknown danger.
“Shut the door; find something to bolt it!” Nyte charged Scardo with the task before slumping against the back wall of the building.
“Nyte!” I crouched over him.
A steady trickle of blood flowed from the cut, staining his shirt red as drops like scarlet tears trailed down his side, fell to the floor, and mixed with the sooty dust.
I pulled the kerchief out of my hair and wrapped it around the wound. He stared up at me, eyes unfocused.
“Hey! Stay with me!” I brushed the hair from his forehead and held his head steady, but it was no use. His eyes fluttered, and his head rolled forward heavily. He looked like he was about to topple. He swayed unsteadily, and I grabbed his shoulders, but he was too heavy and fell against me. I struggled to hold myself up.
I noticed then that there was something different about him, his warmth. It felt dimmer than usual.
Your spirit . . . it’s hurt?
“Just what kinda creature got ‘em?” Grotts shot me a worried look while I fought to steady the wobbly Elf. Then he set Rend down on the floor and rushed over to help Scardo, who was following Nyte’s order and jamming a loose board against the handle of the door.
Kantú grabbed Grotts’ pack and put it under Rend’s head for support before running over to help me with Nyte.
“Wet this!” I ripped off a piece of my shirt with my teeth and handed it to her.
She nodded and grabbed the scrap but didn’t move.
“Kantú, hurry!” I turned to urge her on but stopped at her blank stare.
“Not now!” I yelled. The Spirit of In-between couldn’t have picked a worse time to show up.
“Aura Telmacha Rosh,” said the raspy voice, “heed my words!”
“Kinda busy here!”
Grotts and Scardo abruptly halted their task and stared at Kantú’s odd change in demeanor.
The Spirit took no notice of our situation and continued, “Salvation may be found in the Inscription of Ulan. The other now searches. Make haste!”
With that, Kantú collapsed to the floor, and I threw my arms out to catch her, releasing Nyte in the process. He completely slumped over onto his wound. Feathers from some unknown corner of the deserted building blew over and landed around us, some turning crimson when they absorbed Nyte’s blood.
Grotts and Scardo stared in shock.
“What!?” said Scardo. He remained frozen, eyes wide, but Grotts ran over to us and shook Kantú’s arm.
“Kantoo?! What’s wrong with ya!?” He looked up at me. “What happened to ‘er?!” He swatted away the feathers, more concerned with Kantú’s dazed state than their unusual origin.
“Not now, just help me!” I’d have to interpret the cryptic message later; Nyte and Rend were more important.
He lifted Kantú from me and let out a sigh of relief when she started to stir in his arms.
I turned back to Nyte, put my hands under him, and rolled him onto his back. Yet again, I wished there was some sort of ariando for healing.
I’d asked Miss Danice about it once, but she’d explained that ariandos only allowed for manipulation of the elements. Mist, light, water, and such. Songstresses had never figured out how to
use those elements to heal, though many had tried. I could’ve use my mentor’s wisdom now, uncertain which, if any, ariando would come in handy in the present situation.
I checked Nyte’s arm, glad to see that the kerchief had stopped the blood flow. The wound appeared to be clotting, and his breathing was normal. But his warmth was still lacking.
I rummaged through his pack for a canteen.
“Someone is coming!” Scardo was standing by the door, peeking through an open knot in the wood. He gasped. “It appears to be more than one person . . . it’s . . . a mob of townsfolk!”
A mob? Those kinds of things really happen!?
It couldn’t get any worse.
“A mob?!” Grotts ran to the door, still holding the waking Kantú, and peered through the knot. “What the hell? They’re all carryin’ spades and stuff, an’ . . . they look mad!”
“What’ll we do?” Scardo tilted forward and slithered about anxiously. “No, no, no!”
This was a disaster. We were down three guardians, and we had to combat an angry mob when we didn’t even know what they were angry about. It was remarkable that the small, lazy town of Cana was even capable of a mob!
I left Nyte’s side and rushed to the door. It was as Grotts had said, they were angry, and they were heading our way.
As they neared, their cries became audible: “Get the demon!”
The demon?
Scardo reached for his bow, but I stopped him.
“We don’t know what happened; we can’t just shoot at innocent people!”
“It’s my top priority to keep you safe. I cannot risk you getting injured.”
“Can’t we just try talking to them?”
“We cannot take the chance that they might swing before talking. It appears they are in quite a frenzy.”
Grotts looked sympathetic to my cause, but he nodded in agreement.
I’d have to think of something, an ariando, to draw the mob away without injuring them.
A fire? Mist bomb? Everything seemed too harsh. I thought about the boy from the mercantile. He’d for sure be caught in something so extreme.
“I know! At least I think it might work!”
The rainsong I’d used in Edaw. If only I could make it strong enough . . . I looked back at Nyte. There was no way he was in any condition to lend me power. Rend wouldn’t be of any use either. I scanned the room, and my eyes fell on Grotts’ enchanted hammer.
Would that work? It was infused with Elven power, after all.
The mob’s cries were growing louder with each passing moment.
Guess I have to try at least.
“Don’t shoot, Scardo! Just wait! Okay?”
I bolted to the hammer and tried to pick it up, but it was much heavier than I’d expected. Grotts had always swung it about so easily! Then again, he was huge. For once I wished I were burly.
I resolved to drag the massive thing across the floor and into the center of the room.
“Wait! What’re ya doin’ with that?” Grotts eyed his beloved hammer.
“Just borrowing it, trust me.”
I placed my hands on the hammer and started the rainsong.
“. . . Fill this place with glory’s fall.”
The wind swirled around me furiously when I finished, kicking up the dust on the floor. Scardo hid his face in his shirt. Grotts hid his face in Kantú.
There was a booming crack across the sky outside the building. I focused my energy on pushing the song away from our shelter. The rain fell, but it was too light. A soft shower would do nothing to drive the crowd away.
“They’re still coming!” said Scardo, licking his lips nervously.
I pushed the song harder. The rain’s gentle tapping on the roof immediately transformed into a violent barrage, drowning out the cries of the mob.
Okay, a little harder.
I needed to make sure it would be too strong for them to walk through. I strained myself to push the song harder, and it turned to pelting sheets of downpour.
Just a little more.
I fell to my knees under the strain of concentration. The walls shook from the rain’s pounding.
Yes! That should be strong enough!
The townspeople would have no choice but to retreat.
“Are they still comin’?” asked Grotts.
“I cannot see anything through the rain.”
No, they won’t be able to make it through this. I quit pushing and focused on maintaining the song.
“Aura! Be careful!” Kantú had recovered from her otherworldly encounter, and she now sprang from Grotts’ arms and ran to me.
“Miss Heart!” Scardo turned from the peephole and scuffled toward me. He looked around, searching for a way to aid me. “Try transferring some of the song’s weight into the hammer!”
Into it? Force the power out of me? Again, it was worth trying.
Following Scardo’s advice, I pushed the song into the hammer. The weapon accepted it and pulsed with blue energy, and almost immediately, the weight of the song reduced. I fell back.
I didn’t know how long it would hold up, but hopefully long enough for me to regain some strength.
Kantú helped me up.
“We have to figure out how to help the Elves quickly!” I said. Grotts kept watch. Kantú and I returned to tend to Nyte. Scardo went to fetch a canteen for Rend.
“Nyte?” I dotted his forehead with a wet cloth.
Scardo splashed Rend with water, and she started to stir. “She’s coming to!” He helped the very disgruntled Elf sit up.
She looked around, disoriented, and groaned.
“Rend!” I called to her, glad that she was all right. She actually looked sort of grateful for my concern at first, but when her eyes fell on the wet rag in my hand, her expression grew stony.
“What are you doing?” She struggled up from the floor.
“Ease yourself!” warned Scardo.
But she ignored him and teetered over to me.
“This is not a task for you,” she said coldly. “Stay away from him!”
“Rend, I-”
“Neither your tongue nor your false empathy can dissuade me, Havoc!” She threw me aside and leaned over Nyte. “I am sorry, cousin . . .”
Sorry?
“Watch it, Elf! Don’t ya dare hurt ‘er!” Grotts looked ready to beat her.
Scardo lunged forward. “I should strike you down myself for laying your hands on the Pure-”
“Wait!” I said. We needed Rend if we hoped to make it out of this mess. “Rend, can your barrier block out rain?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Of course it can!”
“Good. We need you to cast one right now. Whatever happened before upset the townspeople. I had to sing this rain, and now we need to escape through it somehow.”
“What did happen?” asked Scardo. He shot her an accusatory look, but the look she shot back was far more fearsome.
I shook my head. “It’ll have to wait. I don’t know how much longer we have until the hammer breaks from the pressure I put on it, and when that happens, I won’t be able to support the song on my own for very long.”
“Breaks?!” Grotts’ voice was pained.
“I’ll try to take the song over before that happens,” I assured.
Kantú tugged on his hand. “Grottsy, you should carry Nytie.”
Gaze still locked on hammer, he let out a grumble and nodded.
Rend stood to protest, but at the realization that we had no other option, she too nodded reluctantly.
“Fine!” said Scardo. “But you will admit your role in this calamity once we are out of harm.” He retrieved his pack from the floor, and gripping his bow tightly, threw a disapproving frown at Rend.
Rend held her arms straight out. Then she took a breath and formed them into a large circle above her head. Apparently, the barrier spell took much more power than the binding bewitchment because her next breath was huffed, and soon after, her body started to shake in concen
tration. The red light started as an orb floating above her head before expanding into a much larger sphere that encompassed her. It was same protective bubble we’d used in Wanzyr Grove.
Grotts picked up Nyte and stepped into the barrier and waited for my signal. Scardo gathered up the packs and followed him through.
“You ready, Aura?” asked Kantú.
I nodded, and we walked through the barrier. Kantú placed her arm around my waist, anticipating the song’s weight.
Alright. Here we go.
“Now!” I pulled the rest of the song away from the hammer, and its crescents dulled.
Grotts grabbed his treasured weapon, relieved that it hadn’t broken, and pulled it along the ground in his free hand.
We rushed out the door and into the rain, which was coming down even stronger than I’d imagined. It shook the bubble as it fell, crashing into the top turbulently and sliding down the sides. It was nearly impossible to see anything through such a wall of water.
I struggled to keep it up. Rend had to concentrate her energy on the barrier, and Grotts’ hands were full of Nyte and hammer, but Scardo and Kantú acted as crutches for me while I staggered along.
The rain bolted against the hard, dusty ground, wetting it into an ashy mud.
If there was anyone left from the mob, we didn’t encounter them on our way from Cana. I was able to hold the song much longer than I expected. It seemed I was getting stronger the more I used the ariandos – the harder I pushed myself.
“We’ll have to change course once again,” said Scardo.
I didn’t care where we went, as long as we got there soon.
The rainfall lessened the farther away we got from the village, easing to a light patter, and finally stopping altogether. I stumbled along with my eyes closed, still clinging onto Kantú and Scardo for support.
I can’t pass out. If I did, there’d be no one to catch me. I had to stay strong for as long as possible.
~
“Let’s stop here,” Scardo’s voice echoed through my haze.
How long had we been traveling?
I slumped to the ground, once again losing to the power of the song.
~
This time I wasn’t out for very long. When I awoke, the sky was dusky gray, and it carried the scent of after-rain. The ground was still wet.