by Tristan Vick
My friend pulls out a slender sword with a unique handle, a handle of a snake, and matching the wolf’s speed counters.
The wolf’s body hits the ground, followed by its head. Sword in one hand and torch in the other, my savior turns toward the pack and starts walking toward them. The rest of the pack grows confused. Without their alpha, they must regroup and rethink their plan of attack. Quickly the remaining wolves disappear back into the forest.
My mysterious savior sheaths their sword. They reach up with a slender hand and pull back their hood to reveal eyes which sparkle like imperial topaz in the pale moonlight and pointed-tipped ears.
“It’s been a long time, Arianna De Amato,” the elf woman says in a low voice.
“Do I know you?” I ask.
“Maybe not. But I know you. I held you as a baby and nursed you through the time Master Kel had the cursed fever.”
“Dinalagosseth?” I ask, barely able to temper my astonishment.
She’s right, I vaguely recollect her as she attended to Master Kel and watched over me. I also remember her visiting once more after that. That’s the time Master Kel complimented me and told me I’d be as great a warrior as Dinalagosseth someday. If I kept practicing and didn’t slack off.
After she left us, news of her good deeds began to trickle up to Bellera from every corner of all twelve kingdoms. The mighty elf and her magic sword, a master of the blade. Of course, I knew I recognized her blade with its jade handle. The Serpent Blade.
The Serpent blade can cause confusion in one’s opponents. Instead of manipulating the elements, like the Moon Blade, it contains a special power. In this case, the power to manipulate one’s senses. It can evoke confusion, make you disoriented, cause you to lose your balance, or even conjure mirages, thereby causing an opponent to see and hear things that aren’t there. All these are but distractions which allow its wielder to strike an enemy down, like a venomous snake.
“At your service,” she says, taking a bow.
“I’m sorry we had to meet like this,” I say, feeling embarrassed at my current predicament.
“I’m not,” says Dinalagosseth. She walks over and kneels down beside me. Taking out a small vile from her inside breast pocket, she uses her teeth to pop the cork and then holds it to my lips. “Drink this,” she says. Cupping her hand under the back of my neck, she raises my head and helps me drink.
Immediately after swallowing I start to cough and hack. “That tastes terrible,” I gripe.
“It’s salicylic extract and boiled bark of the cinchona tree. It will help with the paralysis.”
Almost immediately I feel strength surge back into my limbs. Slowly, with Dinalagosseth’s help, I sit up.
“How’d you know?” I ask, looking up at her. “How’d you know where to find me and to bring medicine?”
“Ah, yes,” she says. “Well, let’s just say a mutual acquaintance informed me of your situation. A rather stout and concerned dwarf by the name of Quimbly said that he and his brother Tamoran found you lying unconscious along the river near the great waterfall Palisade, that pours out of The Shard, and that you had become the property of Daeris Darkthorne. I tracked you to the ore mines of Bulgoroth, but when I’d arrived, it was already too late. She’d taken you to the Nether Realm where I cannot follow.”
“The Nether Realm?” I repeat. “But it all felt so real.”
“For you it was real,” she replies. “I tracked you down after your escape because I knew that no matter what, I needed to keep you safe. You’re the only one who has ever gone up against Daeris Darkthorne and lived to tell about it.”
“I find it hard to believe that in three thousand years nobody has ever bested her.”
“There was one,” she informs me. “An Outlier, like yourself, impervious to her magic and her charms.”
“What happened?” I ask. My curiosity grows as I learn about this mysterious other like me.
“He betrayed her, much like you did. And Daeris, full of wrath and scorn, banished him to the Nether Realm, where he is imprisoned to this day. Doomed to spend and eternity in agonizing pain, suffering for his betrayal.”
“Is it possible to find him? Maybe I could free the other Outlier and get him to help me?”
“The problem wouldn’t be finding him. Rather, it’s the trials you’d need to pass in order to get to him you’d need to be concerned with. And even if you did get to him you’d still need to convince him to join you in your quest.”
“What trials?” I ask.
“First, there are the fire pits of misery you must get past, and then there are the catacombs of Vulcanus where the Minotaur roams. And, finally, if you make it to the giant sealed door guarded by the three-headed snail, Simurgh, you must defeat him and escape with the Outlier. But by this time every demon in the Nether Realm will be hunting you, even the fire demon Vulcanus himself will have been alerted to your presence. And assuming you best the best of the worst, you still must face off with Daeris Darkthorne herself.”
“On second thought,” I say, changing my mind about saving the Outlier, “maybe there’s a more practical way to defeat Daeris on her own terms.”
Dinalagosseth reaches under my arm, places it around her neck and, letting out a grunt, helps me to my feet.
“Wait,” I say, forcing her to hold up. “My sword.”
We bend back down and I manage to take ahold of the Moon Blade. “Thanks,” I say appreciatively, having retrieved my sword.
“Come,” she says in a hushed tone, her eyes scanning the tree line. “It won’t be long before the beasts return. We best find shelter for the night.”
10
Thunder rattles the sky and lightning tears through the dark and dusty backdrop with a crackle and hiss. Some rain drops splatter onto my forehead. I pause to look up at the sagging purple clouds with their pregnant bellies full of rain.
One drop turns to a few, and then the few multiply to many. The rain begins to pour, a loud rush of water gushing down. Dinalagosseth points through the trees toward a rocky face in the hillside. “There’s a cave over there where we can hole up for the night.”
I nod. I pick up some dry branches as I make my way to the cave. Dinalagosseth does the same, and once we find the small mouth to the even smaller cave, more of a nook with an overhang really, we place our bundles of wood into a pile and then set about getting the fire going.
My travel companion reaches behind her back and draws out a large buck knife. She hands it to me and says, “Here, make kindling with this.”
I take the knife from her and pick up one of the drier branches. The wood is dehydrated enough that I can slice the ends easily enough to make wood chips. Whittling the stick down to nothing, I toss the leftover kernel onto the heap of wood filings and watch as Dinalagosseth places a stick between her hands and twiddles it, rubbing her hands together so that the tip of the stick grinds into a piece of dried bark. She adds a touch of moss to help get it smoking. Once she has it going she gently places it down and piles some of the wood shavings on top.
She leans down and blows on the kindling and cultivates proper flame to warm us with. Soon enough the wood chips are crackling as the fire grows rapidly, and we both pile on the remaining sticks.
“This will keep us warm for a couple of hours, at any rate,” I say in a melancholy voice.
“I’ll go fetch more wood,” Dinalagosseth says, and begins to stand up.
I reach over and touch her arm, which causes her to pause. “Please, stay,” I entreat.
“But the wood will be too damp to use if I don’t fetch it now,” she informs me. Then she turns and steps out into the pouring rain. I watch her disappear into the thicket of trees. Once she’s gone, I reach around to the back of my dress and quickly unfasten the back pin. I let the wet dress slip down around my waist and then I peel it off my hips, which is a little tricky considering the wet fabric sticks to me like a second layer of skin.
After undressing, I lay the dress out ov
er a few rocks near to the fire and let it dry.
The underwear, which Daeris had dyed specially to match the turquoise of the dress, are made of a fine satin. Something only the richest of the rich could ever afford.
My breast aches and I look down at the two red holes where Daeris’s fangs pierced me. I press on the tender area but a surge of pain shoots into my chest and I groan. “Bad idea,” I say aloud.
That’s when a twig snaps behind me. I spin around to see Dinalagosseth standing in the rain watching me fondle myself.
Moving to the back wall of the cave, she stacks the pile of sticks then, bending down, empties a small pouch onto the rock floor. A collection of herbs, roots, and dried mushrooms fall out. She takes the root and begins mashing it into the stone. Once there is a nice pulp, she mashes the mushroom on top of the root. Next, she takes a handful of green leaves, pops them into her mouth, and chews them up. She spits the green globule onto the pile, then scoops it onto a large birch leaf.
Dinalagosseth slides up next to me and then gently places the leaf over the wound on top of my breast. “This will help ease the pain,” she says.
I stare into her golden eyes but she never makes eye contact. I place my hand over the leaf and take over for her. She returns to her spot on the other side of the fire.
“How old are you, anyway?” I ask.
“One hundred and eighty-four years old,” she replies.
“Oh,” I say. Apparently my less than enthused response offends her, as she immediately responds to my sigh.
“Is that bad?”
“No, not bad,” I say trying not to be discourteous. “I was just hoping you were, you know, a bit older. That’s all.”
“You’re worried about Daeris Darkthorne, is that it?”
“Something like that,” I say. “I was just hoping someone might have something one her. Some information we could use.”
“Doubtful,” she replies. “Daeris is the most ancient of all the elves. The next oldest elf is the King of O’ana Onyeshara. And he’s just eight hundred years old. A mere teenager by comparison to Darkthorne’s mature age.”
“I guess I didn’t think of it like that.” Placing my elbows on my knees, I rest my chin on my fists and gaze into the fire.
Suddenly a loud crash of thunder breaks through the sky and shakes the rock walls, giving us a terrible fright. We both startle and look at one another and then, after a brief pause of shock, begin laughing.
“Do you need me to sleep with you?” Dinalagosseth asks me rather casually.
“I beg your pardon?”
“For warmth,” she responds. By her tone, I know she only means a platonic kind of kinship, nothing sexual. She rubs her own arms for warmth as she waits for my reply.
“It’s up to you,” I say. “The cold doesn’t bother me much. But if you’re feeling chilled, by all means, please feel free to do so.
Dinalagosseth snuggles up next to me and we lay down next to the fire. My back resting against her chest, she wraps her arms around me, and lets me rest my cheek on her arm. I reach over and grab the large turquoise dress and pull it over us. It makes a nice blanket and is toasty warm from the fire.
Wrapped up like a couple of bugs in a rug, we drift off to sleep, the fire crackling softly as the rain drizzles down on the ground outside the cave. The fresh scent of damp earth and ionized air seeps into my lungs and feels invigorating, but it’s not enough to prevent me from drifting off to sleep.
“Arianna,” a faint voice calls to me in my dreams. “Wake up.”
I groan in protest of being awakened, and pull the dress over my shoulder and roll onto my side. “I don’t want to get up, Master. It’s the weekend,” I mumble.
Suddenly a sharp slap to my ass shocks me awake.
“Wake up,” Dinalagosseth whispers through clinched teeth.
“Did you just slap my butt?” I say through a thick yawn. Scratching myself in the same area she slapped me, I look over and ask quietly, “How long was I asleep?”
“About two hours,” she answers.
Finally, able to open my eyes, I see Dinalagosseth standing hunched in the mouth of our small cave. Her sword is drawn.
“What’s up I ask?”
“They’ve found us.”
“Who has found us?”
“The wolves,” she replies, her voice thick with uneasiness. She doesn’t take her eyes off the woods for an instant. Continuing to keep her gaze fixed, she asks me, “Do you still have the knife I gave you?”
Reaching over to the nearby pile of sticks, I slide the knife out. “Yes,” I reply.
“Good,” she responds. “I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”
“Well, we have the shelter of the cave,” I say, reaching over and picking up my sword, The Moon Blade. “Shouldn’t we just stay here and wait for the fight to come to us?”
“You don’t know these beasts like I do. They’ll just wait us out. They know that eventually we’ll have to come out to find food. When we do, they’ll descend upon us in full force. And by that time, we’ll be so weakened from starvation we won’t be much of a match for them. At least if we fight now, we’ll have chance of getting out of this alive.”
It’s at this point that I begin to have reservations about whether or not the goddess is really watching out for me.
I take the knife and start slashing up the dress. First I make it into a short skirt. Then, using the excess fabric, I cut to wide strips. The first strip I wrap around my left arm. If one of the animals bites me, at least this will soften the damage.
The other piece of fabric I slice into several thin strips. I secure some branches to my shins, making a lightweight armor. I tight a couple of more around my biceps, just in case I need to use one to tie off a wound later.
The final piece of cloth I wrap around my hand which is holding the knife. I tie the knife to my hand so it doesn’t slip out in the wet cold, leaving me defenseless. At least this way, the knife is staying with my hand, regardless of whether my hand stays with me. After all, a full-grown Dire wolf could nip my hand clean off with one bite.
“Stay behind me,” Dinalagosseth says, clutching the Serpent Blade in both hands. “I can disorient them and misdirect them if they charge. But I’ll only be able to confuse two or three animals at a time. If they wise up and begin attacking en masse, we’ll have a fight on our hands.”
Together, we step out of the cave and into the hammering rain. The droplets are as cold as ice and sting my skin. But the sharp sting of an icy raindrop is nothing compared to the sharp sting of a Dire wolf’s chomping jowls.
Slinking out into the clearing in front of the cave, we stand back to back, and listen intently for any sign of movement. Then, from the shadows amongst the trees, I see a pair of golden eyes. Then another. And another. Soon enough, we’re surrounded by a myriad of hungry glowing eyes.
“There must be at least sixty of them,” I gasp.
“Ready yourself,” Dinalagosseth says, raising her blade above her shoulders and taking up a defensive stance. “For they are upon us.”
Out from the trees, a fleet of wolves come bounding toward us.
11
Drenched in blood from head to foot, I sink to my knees, panting, gasping, fighting for the smallest breath. Dinalagosseth walks across the glistening lake of crimson to a yowling wolf lying on its side, stuck in the mud, and thrusts her blade into its side. It yelps once then its head drops down into the muck as it is put out of its misery.
Around us lie the bodies of at least twenty of the beasts. Now that we’ve killed the last of the first wave, the second wave merely tests our resolve. They poke and prod, and growl, but finding us too fierce for their taste, they retreat into the forest licking their wounds as they go.
“Pity,” I say as Dina pulls out her blade. “They merely were trying to survive.”
Wiping the blood off her blade, Dinalagosseth replies, “Kill or be killed. That’s the way of the beasts.”
&n
bsp; “So, what does this make us?” I ask, fanning my hand across the littering of gore and carnage we left in our wake.
Dinalagosseth looks at me with a solemn expression. At first I don’t think she’ll answer me, but then she unexpectedly says, “It makes us survivors in a world with beasts.”
“I suppose,” I say, unconvinced. I feel terrible that we were forced to kill so many innocent animals. “Still,” I add, placing my hands on my knees and rising to my feet, “we could have run.”
“They merely would have waited till we became separated and then picked us off one at a time. These animals aren’t pets, they’re wild. Hungry. Vicious. The only remorse you should be feeling is for the next poor sap who runs across the pack.”
Without warning a flaming arrow flies between Dinalagosseth and me and imbeds itself in a tree. “There they are!” a voice shouts.
“Run,” Dinalagosseth says, and she turns and takes off into the forest. I look back over my shoulder to see to armed soldiers running down the slope of a nearby hill, heading straight toward me. I turn and take off, running full speed until I catch up to Dina.
We race through the forest, side by side. As we leap over logs and duck under branches, I ask, “Who were those guys?”
“Bounty hunters from El Trioli.”
“Bounty hunters?! What on earth have you gotten us mixed up in?”
“It’s from before…”
“Before what?”
“Before I came after you, I was hired to find some rich brat and bring him back home. But I lost his trail in Igthia a while back. At any rate, my little detour to come rescue you caused me to overshoot my timeline, and well…I’m sure the Duke wants his payment back.”
Immediately I surmise she means Leif, but I don’t say anything. Besides, what would I say? I can’t rat Leif Ericson out, he’s become one of my closest friends over the past few weeks. I’ve done enough terrible things recently that I don’t need to start betraying my friends. Instead of giving up my good friend, I decide to let that bit of information slip my mind. “So, you’re a bounty hunter who’s being chased by bounty hunters?”