by Mark Ryan
He spent the rest of the night rising … falling … taking a single step before tumbling. He felt like a newborn learning to walk. With the triumphs he accepted his current feebleness as the price to be paid for future strength. He took two steps, and then fell four times over before he managed to regain his feet.
By then, it had been hours since he last ate. Exhaustion crept through his bones and turned his muscles to wood. No matter how he used his affinity to shift his weight, his arms began to lose the strength to pull him up. As if seizing the opportunity, the pain along his spine redoubled, knotting him through with acid-coated brambles that tore him up from within.
He swallowed a scream as he hoisted himself up. One last time. He had to stand one last time before giving in … He knew he was pushing too far, but giving up wasn’t part of the new Tetra. He fought on.
As he rose, inch by inch, the room swirled around him and his eyes fluttered. The agony soared up the length of his body, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him to the floor. The impact shattered the last bits of his awareness into oblivion.
***
Chapter 25
Tetra Bicks
By the Aspects, boy, what did I warn you about this?” Someone was slapping Tetra lightly and he jerked back into consciousness. The cool flood of Geist healing washed through his body.
Tetra came to with Healer Alma standing over him, fury etched across his features. Tetra pushed himself away from the metal bed leg. He could feel an indent along his cheek, and a wet trail of saliva ran down his chin. He looked around, noting the table and chair shoved out of place. His tunic reeked, crusted with dried perspiration. It must’ve been obvious what he’d been up to.
Morning light streamed through the window. Alma set aside the breakfast tray he’d brought, leaving Tetra where he lay for the moment. As the healer reorganized the furniture, Tetra thought furiously for an explanation.
He knew the man would overrule anything he tried to claim about being able to walk at this point. He needed to be further along in order to make him admit he’d been wrong. But if he didn’t offer another reason for his actions, he’d end up strapped to his bed and could lose all the progress he’d made so far.
So he twisted his body slightly as the healer’s back was turned and, for the first time in weeks, let the pain yank tears into his eyes. His weary voice added to the act. “I … Aspects, what a nightmare.”
Alma returned to stand over him, anger shifting to concern. “Nightmare? You expect me to buy that?”
Tetra braced on an elbow, mopping his face with a hand. Tears trailed down his face. “I was back in Jaegen. There was fire everywhere. We were trapped in my home. I … I could hear everyone screaming and dying. I tried to fight … tried to break free, but it was all flames and smoke and orocs.” He blinked up at the healer. “I’m never going to see any of them again, am I?
“Oh, Tetra, I’m so sorry.” All suspicion gone, Alma hooked under his arms and helped him back onto the bed. He didn’t notice as Tetra briefly pushed off one foot to boost over the edge. The motion cost him, and with the floodgates open the tears redoubled. Tetra may have started faking this, but the emotions that he had shoved down for weeks fought free. The tears were real.
Tetra turned away from Healer Alma. The old man was sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, waiting for Tetra to cry himself out. Feeling his shoulders shaking, Tetra buried his face in the pillow. The sobs lasted too long, but finally stopped. His pillow was soaked.
Turning back around, he rubbed at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Alma raised his eyebrows and brushed his hands off against each other. “It’s okay, lad. It natural, and healthy. Keeping it bundled in is just another injury. We have to focus on healing your mind and soul, too.” He grabbed the tray, setting it back down on the bed. “I thought you were lying at first, for which you have my sincerest apology. I am always here if you wish to just talk.”
“Thank you.” Tetra reached out for the food, sliding the tray into his lap. Alma sat beside the bed while Tetra tucked into the morning meal. His appetite was voracious. Not only was he famished by his night of struggles, but the crying had somehow made him even hungrier.
Alma adjusted the bed sheet. “I can assure you Lord Drayston is doing everything in his power to find out what happened to your sister and the other village children.”
“It’s been six weeks. Don’t you think we should’ve found or heard something by now? Wouldn’t the orocs have delivered a message asking for ransom? Have any other villages been attacked?” The questions poured out of Tetra like he was an overturned jug, spilling wine. He shut up, filling his mouth with more food, instead of more questions.
The healer shook his head. “No further attacks I’ve heard of, though you’d have to ask Sergeant Reynolds. He heads up most of the scouting patrols around the region. As for the orocs, who knows how they think or what their plans are? Lord Drayston believes the band who destroyed Jaegen acted alone. Their kind are already considered barbaric by some. Perhaps these were random savages out for nothing more than to sow chaos. I know several messengers have been dispatched to various oroc leaders, but we’ve had no word in return.”
Tetra frowned. Random savages? While it suggested an easy explanation, it didn’t sit right with him. Through the haze of his memories, he recalled facing the one oroc in his home. Gnarrl. Tetra’s gut twisted at the thought of the name. He’d claimed they attacked Jaegen for a reason. Said the humans had done something to invite this violence on themselves, but Tetra couldn’t recall exactly what. But it was a lie. Nobody deserved to endure such loss—except perhaps the orocs themselves.
And one of Drayston’s primary villages had been razed to the ground and all they’d done was send out a few messengers? They should be marching an army into Rocmire until the prisoners were rescued! The orocs that lived there should be wiped out. Couldn’t Lord Drayston see that no human would be safe so long as they lived near the orocs?
He kept all these thoughts contained, not wanting Alma to think him too riled up, or unreasonable. He looked around the room. “Where’s Kafa?”
Alma smiled. “Out in the courtyard, I think. I’m sure he will come by later.”
Tetra shrugged, then continued eating. The healer puttered about a few minutes more, and then left him to finish breakfast. Tetra gulped down a mug of water and then dug into the buttered biscuits, more determined than ever to fuel his recovery.
If Lord Drayston refused to take action against the orocs, once Tetra regained his full strength, he’d lead the charge into Rocmire himself. And if every soldier in the castle refused to fight by his side, he’d take on every last oroc alone.
***
Chapter 26
Halli Bicks
Inspecting the meager array of options, Halli tried to determine which food would best bolster the girls, especially as the temperatures continued to drop. Fatty foods would be best, but there was very little meat in the pile. She ignored the oroc guard at her side, the one assigned by Gnarrl to keep an eye on the “human sapling” as he permitted her a precious, if tiny, extra bit of freedom.
She didn’t know Gnarrl’s standing in the tribe, though he obviously held some authority if he could order her out of the cage. None of the other humans were allowed to accompany her, and she had an oroc at her side at all times. Gnarrl had made it clear to her they would track and kill her if she ran, no matter how far or fast she went.
Even knowing she remained a prisoner, Halli relished the ability to move about the village—though if she strayed too far from the main paths, her guard always forced her back. A river ran along the far side of the settlement. She went to this several times every day, retrieving bucketfuls of water which she brought back to the girls’ cage. Each time she made the trip she subtly adjusted her return route. Not enough to alarm her guard, but enough that, over a week’s time, she started getting a better idea of the settlement’s layout.
Aside from the caves o
pposite the river, there appeared to be no particular order to where the orocs met, ate, or slept. They acted like this whole stretch of the forest was their home. Indeed, the pathways and huts up in the trees stretched further than she could see. Not that she could see very far. The giant foliage of the Rocmire forest was too dense.
But the orocs didn’t restrict themselves to the upper tiers of the forest. They tended its trees and underbrush while, in return, they enjoyed the natural shelter and resources it provided. They farmed its wild berries and mushrooms, hunted its creatures for meat and skins, and used the very branches overhead to play and sleep. The skins had caught her eye. Orocs didn’t use animal pelt to fashion clothes, but they did use it to craft storage containers, insulate the walls of their structures, and soften the floors of homes and caves.
It could’ve been a peaceful, even joyful, place to visit if she hadn’t done so in the wake of these same orocs killing her family and destroying her home.
She reminded herself such thoughts wouldn’t help anything in the present. Rather than losing herself to despair, Halli refocused on the food offerings before her. Flatbreads, dried meats, dried fruits, dried fungus. With their cultural taboo on fire, Halli was not surprised at the scarcity of cooked meat.
The orocs ate far blander samplings than Halli ever had, but at least it proved filling. After preparing fuller meals for the girls and providing plenty of water at all hours, she’d been grateful to see a handful of them perk up, regaining both strength and confidence that they’d survive this ordeal.
A few others, including Kat, remained gripped by their mysterious illnesses. Halli plied her affinity on them daily, keeping them from falling closer to death, but bringing them no closer to recovery. Yet each day they endured was another day that she might find a cure. If only her Geist talent would return to her in full force. She still didn’t understand what kept her from wielding it as powerfully as she had in Jaegen.
Selecting portions and stashing them in her basket, Halli rose and headed back towards the cage. As she walked, she took a slightly different path to the right, meandering through a new set of trees while still heading in the general direction she needed. Her guard didn’t yank her back on track right away, and she kept her gait casual.
With Gnarrl being the only oroc who spoke the human tongue—or the only one to admit to doing so—Halli tried to pick up what she could of their strange language. As she paid closer attention, many of the noises she’d previously thought as simple sounds of nature actually belonged to the oroc speech.
Their clicks sounded like the creaking of tree trunks, they gurgled like mountain brooks, and whistled like birdsong. Even after just a few days of listening, she picked up on various patterns and began to distinguish a few common words. Two in particular kept being used near her, and she figured them for “human” and “sapling.” This would be followed by a good amount of hisses or snarls her way. It didn’t hurt that she was a Geist. One of the first things she had learned was how to sense the intent of a spirit focused on her. Even with her affinity currently limited, she could still pick up some of their moods.
Today, she tried to decipher some of the chatter going on between members of a recently returned hunting party. They appeared to be in good spirits, thumping each other on their backs as they chomped on handfuls of nuts and berries.
Then Halli looked beyond them, and all thoughts puffed away. A dozen boys from Jaegen sat in another living cage not twenty paces away. Among them, she spotted Pavil, Malec, and Sven. They wore a mix of tattered clothes and rough skins as they sat in a circle, talking amongst each other. Their hair had grown long, and their unwashed features made them appear a far cry from the youths ready to head off to the Academy, what felt like ages ago. Sven had the beginnings of a beard. For the first time, she noticed that he was fetching.
Halli hurried that way, trying to stay just ahead of her guard, who barked a command after her.
She called to the closest boy. “Malec!”
The rest looked up. Initial confusion cleared into astonishment, and they chorused her name. Malec leaped to his feet and reached through a slight gap in the vines. She grabbed his hand hard enough that both their knuckles whitened.
“Bless the Aspects, Halli. We didn’t know what they’d done with you. Are you all okay?”
Halli babbled what she could, even as her guard latched onto her arm. “I’m all right. I’m with all the girls. Laney’s with me, and Kat, but Kat’s sick and I’m trying to heal her. They’re letting me make better meals. I’ll try to get them to let me bring some to you!”
The oroc guard pulled her away with irresistible strength. Some boys yelled for the orocs to let go her while others shouted questions. She only caught Sven’s yell before being yanked out of sight.
“What about Tetra?”
Her guard hauled her off before she could answer. Halli stumbled, trying to keep a hold on her provisions basket. Orocs growled and murmured in her wake, but she ignored them.
Seeing the boys alive renewed her hope even more than her brief freedom. It was troubling though, that it also confirmed Tetra’s absence among them. She still believed she felt his distant presence and refused to accept he’d died in the fiery collapse of their home. But not knowing his fate dug at her, a constant worry she could do nothing about.
Gnarrl waited by the cage when the guard brought her back. Seeing him jolted fear through her. Had her brief interaction with the boys been a misstep? Would he now take away her ability to even leave her own prison?
“I’m sorry,” she said as she approached. “I wasn’t trying to escape. I just hadn’t seen any of the others in so long. I had to talk to them.”
He touched one of the rigid vines, singing a soft tune, and it bent aside, creating a space for her to walk through. Once she stood inside, he let it snap back into place, as solid as iron. Instead of stalking off, though, he watched her from the other side. Then he looked up, where the treetops hid the sky.
“Snows coming. This winter cold.” He pointed to the caves. “We move you. Here you freeze. There you live. Need furs like male saplings?”
Halli nodded mutely. He had offered furs, and she had never thought to ask, being more concerned with the food.
Gnarrl patted the cage then turned away. Halli stared at his back as he strode off. First the orocs killed her village, and now they cared enough to keep the survivors warm during the winter? She didn’t understand anything anymore, yet she felt figuring this out was the key to their all getting free. The girls gathered round as she handed out food, quietly telling them about having seen the boys.
***
Chapter 27
Tetra Bicks
Tonight, Tetra decided. No more being confined to his room. Even as he grew steadier on his feet, if he let himself stay within these infirmary walls, he did so out of fear of what Healer Alma might do. He couldn’t live in fear of anything if he meant to follow this path to vengeance. Save her.… Tetra shook his head. It had been weeks since he had heard his father’s voice echoing in his head.
He waited until a couple hours after sundown, after the last noises of Alma and his assistant faded from the main infirmary. Then, guided by moonlight and the soft glow of the castle’s volamps from the crack under his door, he shuffled and lurched out of bed. The warmth of the castle defied the soft smells of the onset of winter filling the air. He instinctively used his affinity to lighten his upper body and condense his lower, relieving the walking effort as much as possible.
For the first time, he stepped across the room to the door without supporting himself on any furniture. Leaning against the wall, he gripped the latch and eased it open. A quick peek out revealed no one waiting. He heaved a sigh of relief, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Exiting the room, he took a moment to enjoy the fresher air. Despite new bedclothes and sheets provided by the healer every day, he’d stewed too long in his own stench. Admittedly his constant exert
ions had done nothing to help that condition.
One leg quivered, and he reminded himself every moment was precious. Little time to enjoy even simple things when more trials lay ahead. After a faltering step, he found a slow, yet steady pace down the hallway, then out and across the courtyard, heading for the only other area of the castle he knew, pausing from time to time to see if he was observed by anyone.
Not long ago, he’d crawled across this same area, aiming for the threshold leading into the training court. During the few quiet hours when he recovered his strength between exercise sessions, he’d heard soldiers shouting, weapons clanging, feet pounding across the stones. He’d pictured himself joining them time and again, learning to wield a blade, to fight like a true warrior. The day dreams weren’t idle. He practiced the few fighting techniques he knew in his head, hoping that when he finally could pick up a weapon, his body would remember.
But not yet. No one would let him join in the training, he knew, until he proved himself capable. He wouldn’t be the weakling in their midst, forcing them to slow down, to take it easy for his sake.
He would stand strong among them. He would—
His toes caught a raised stone and he stumbled forward. His palms scuffed on the ground and his knees struck hard enough he bit the tip of his tongue. Legs and arms trembling, he fought to remain on all fours, even as icy heat shot up his back and across his shoulders. Focus, Tetra. He thought.
The training yard waited just a few feet away. He crawled there on his belly last time, but not now. He might crawl, yes, but on hands and knees.
He spat a bloody wad aside and then moved forward. His tongue was bleeding too badly from the bite, so he ignored it. One hand, one knee. On excruciating pace at a time. Keep his balance. He could do this. Through the threshold. Over a short ledge. Into the first dirt-packed fighting square, stamped solid by countless soldiers’ feet over the years.