“Whoa, now." I could feel myself turning red with embarrassment. "How is taking your shirt off an appropriate response to me having blisters on the bottoms of my feet?”
He ignored me and ripped both sleeves off the shirt before pulling the remainder of it back on. “I’m going to bandage your feet. Take off your boots.”
I watched as he started ripping the shirtsleeves into strips, duly impressed at how easy it was for him to break down the material. He surveyed the pile of pieces with a frown and pulled his shirt off again, ripping the rest of it into strips, as well. I felt myself turn an even deeper shade of red and looked away again, blushing even more when I heard him chuckle.
“You really enjoy making me uncomfortable, don’t you?”
I saw him grin again, and it perfectly matched the twinkly-eyed, mischievous grin I'd drawn on my sketch of Noah. Weirdsville, I thought. “Yes," he quipped. "It’s one of the few times you’re quiet.”
I rolled my eyes and started working my boots off with a soft whimper. “And if you don’t mind me asking, why’d you rip up the whole shirt? The material you had from the sleeves looked like plenty to wrap my feet with.”
He looked at me like I was stupid for a moment and then shook his head. “Extra padding so we can keep moving,” he shrugged.
“Keep moving? Are you serious right now?” I blanched and groaned as I peeled off my socks, and they pulled blistered flesh with them.
Kieran laughed aloud and shook his head, kneeling in front of me. “Here, give me your feet.” I held them up for him to see and he gave a soft whistle. “Ouch. I didn't think they'd be this bad. I’m sorry.”
He pulled an old, beat-up tin out of his pack and opened it. When he did, I gagged at the smell. “Holy crap! What is that? It smells awful!”
“Medicine, one of Wynne's magical mystery concoctions. It may stink, but nothing works better.” He scooped out what looked like dark purple Vaseline with two fingers and started applying it to the bottoms of my feet. Within a minute, I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. I couldn’t feel my feet at all, for that matter. “Wow! That’s amazing! What’s it made from?”
“I’m not sure. It’s some secret concoction Wynne, our healer, makes. She won't tell anyone how she makes it because she doesn't want the elves to steal her recipe and take credit for it.” He carefully bandaged both feet, stuffed my dirty socks into an outside pocket of his pack, pulled out another shirt and put it on, then put my boots inside his pack. He stood and hooked his pack over his arms so it rested on his front, as opposed to his back.
I could feel myself giving him a funny look. “Did you suddenly forget how to wear a backpack? You're not having a stroke or something, are you?”
He rolled his eyes at me before turning so he faced away from me. “Just get on my back, and hold on tight.”
I raised my eyebrows, but I didn’t argue. Who was I to argue with a piggy-back ride when I couldn’t even feel my feet? I did as I was told in grateful silence, doing my best not to choke him as I held on. He set off at a faster pace than we'd been going with me walking. “Are you kidding me right now?" I teased. "If you could move this fast with me on your back, why didn’t you do it sooner? I kind of hate you right now.” I was joking, but I'm not sure he took it that way.
Kieran didn’t answer me. Instead, he snorted and shook his head, as if to tell me to be quiet without wasting energy on words, and he strode deeper into the forest along what seemed to be a deer trail. Darkness fell as we pushed through yet another stretch of scrub that looked like every other bit of brush we’d forged through for the majority of the day. Kieran stopped without warning and let go of my legs. I almost pulled us both over backward, since there had been no warning, but I staggered and steadied myself on feet that were starting to ache again.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to hide my disappointment and disorientation with curiosity.
“We’ll camp here for the night.” I was about to ask him why he was being so gruff, but I stopped myself when I saw that he was red-faced, sweat-soaked, and generally worn out.
I dropped my backpack and lifted my eyes to the darkening sunset heavens. “There is a God!”
When Kieran pulled a hatchet out of his pack, I couldn’t help eyeing him with suspicion. “What, exactly, do you plan on doing with that?” Thoughts of ax murderers danced through my head and I shivered. I really hoped I didn’t have a male Lizzie Borden on my hands.
“I should think my intentions are fairly clear.” He took a step in my direction, and I moved to back away. Unfortunately, a large tree impeded my progress. Kieran snickered and moved to my left, shaking his head as he started hacking at the briars and saplings that cluttered what could loosely be referred to as a clearing. In reality, it was more of a hole in the trees that had allowed other plants to overrun the rich, dark soil. “I’m clearing just enough brush to make it possible for me to build a fire pit and give us a place to bed down for the night.”
“Oh.” I nodded but kept my back pressed against the tree until he stopped swinging the hatchet and put it away. Kieran laughed at me again when he realized that I’d never once taken my eyes off him or exposed my back to him.
“You’re getting smarter, princess.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes. Stay out of my way until I’ve set up camp.”
“Fine by me.” I shrugged and crossed my arms, content to lean against the tree and watch him.
After Kieran finished, we had what might be considered a burrow made of leafy branches. I had watched as he strategically placed them to create a makeshift shelter at the roots of a massive cedar tree. Then, he untied a rolled-up pelt from the bottom of his rucksack and laid the fur out to serve both as the floor of the burrow and the bed. I sat down in front of the small circle of stones he’d gathered to serve as a fire pit and watched as he started a small blaze in it.
He hadn't spoken to me during the entire setting-up process, and I was feeling a little awkward about it, so I attempted conversation. “Isn’t fire a little risky since people are following us?”
“Our pursuers won’t be close enough for that to be a problem tonight. Believe me when I tell you that in a little while, you won’t be questioning my wisdom in starting a fire. The Black Forest gets quite cold at night, even in the summer.” He pulled a small loaf of bread out of his pack and broke it, handing me half. “I don’t feel like hunting tonight.”
“I don’t blame you.” I paused and looked around for a moment. “The Black Forest…is that what these woods are called? Funny, we have a Black Forest in my world, too.”
“Woods?” Kieran shook his head, not bothering to hide his incredulous expression. “These are the outermost reaches of the Black Forest. It is the largest and densest forest in Daraglathia, as well as the most bountiful and treacherous. Very few people dare to live here, so the Black Forest remains largely unspoiled.”
I was unable to keep the apprehension I was starting to feel out of my voice. “What do you mean, treacherous?”
“The Black Forest harbors many beasts and infinite secrets.”
“Okay, there goes sleeping tonight,” I griped.
Kieran shook his head. “The day will catch up to you. I’ll be surprised if you can manage to hold your eyes open for more than a minute after you lie down.”
We ate the rest of the bread in semi-comfortable silence, and I considered my options. I lay down and pretended to fall asleep in an instant. I had perfected the art of keeping a peaceful face and lying still when I didn’t want to be forced to do things, thanks to Michelle. My mind, however, was far from being at peace.
How can I stay with this guy? What if he’s a complete nut? I don’t trust him. He could be just as dangerous as the queen’s guards. I could take my chances on my own…but what about the beasts he mentioned?
It felt like forever before Kieran fell asleep, and I waited just a couple minutes more before I decided to move.
I felt like I had to risk setting out alone because I didn't really enjoy the thought that I might be "of use" to Kieran and his great-grandfather against the queen. Not my war, not my problem, I thought, trying to justify my actions to myself. I crept over to where Kieran had placed our packs and, holding my breath, silently searched Kieran’s for any extra supplies I might need. I took the medicine tin, a few cooking utensils, and a small knife, shoved them in my pack, then by some miracle managed to sneak away without Kieran waking up.
Once I slipped away from the fire's cheerful and comforting light, I decided to stop and pull my cloak on. He hadn't been wrong about the Black Forest being chilly at night, even in the summer. To me, it felt more like a late fall night in Alabama than summer. I huddled inside the cloak and leaned against a thick tree trunk until my eyes adjusted to the moonlit darkness left in the wake of the fire's absence.
I carefully picked my way through the brush, doing my best to stay true to the direction we'd been headed in when I was with Kieran. I walked until my feet ached too much to stand it anymore, then settled down at the base of an evergreen. I worked the doeskin boots off my feet, pulled the medicine tin out of my pack, and untied the bandaging from my feet. I spread a thin layer of the medicine on them and put the tin back in my pack. It wasn't as much as Kieran had used, but I figured I better conserve as much of the medicine as possible in case I needed it later.
The ache in my feet subsided from pure agony to a dull throb as I re-bandaged them. I knew walking was going to be uncomfortable, but my self-preservation instincts told me to push through it as I pulled the boots back on. I walked until I couldn't make myself take another step, and noted that the moon was setting. I knew I'd been awake too long not to try to get some rest. I found another evergreen, which wasn't too difficult in the apparently deciduous forest, and crawled under its low-hanging boughs. I curled around the trunk so the greenish-gray material of my cloak would be facing outward and hopefully blend well enough with the evergreen branches to hide me, should Kieran or the guards catch up to me.
I laid my head on my backpack and knew nothing until bright sunlight pierced my eyelids and woke me. I stayed still and listened to see if I could hear anyone walking nearby, but all I heard was birdsong. I crawled out from under the evergreen, dragging my pack with me as I went, and pushed up into a standing position. My feet hurt, but not too badly for me to keep moving, at least for a while.
The sun was high overhead, so I guessed that it was some time close to noon. I set out in what I hoped was the same direction as the night before. I walked until the sun started setting and realized that I was too hungry to keep moving without rest, food, or both. I sat down and started digging through my pack on the off chance that Kieran had packed some kind of food in it before we left Pallidia. I found one parchment paper packet in the very bottom of my pack, tied with string, and I untied it with shaking fingers that told me I was way past the point of a sugar drop. I almost dropped it when I realized it was jerky.
My hunger told me to eat the entire packet of jerky because I felt like I was starving, but my good sense overrode it. I took one big piece of jerky, tied the packet back up, and put the rest of the jerky back in my pack to save for later. I ate slowly, giving myself time to savor and appreciate the sustenance. Once I finished, I realized that I was ravenously thirsty, and probably dehydrated. I knew I didn't have a canteen full of water miraculously tucked away in my backpack, so I treated my feet, re-bandaged them, and pressed on in the hope that I'd find a stream or some other source of water.
7
Refuge?
Hours later, several of my desperate prayers had been answered. I found an abandoned, run-down cottage next to a clear-running stream. I cautiously poked around, and when I was sure there were no elves or people lurking around, I let out a short whoop of pure joy. "Shelter and water," I murmured to myself. "How lucky can I get?" I found relief in a chamber pot in the cottage and decided to explore the scrubby remnants of what appeared to have been a garden at one point.
I was delighted to find ripe figs, a few butternut squash, potatoes, pumpkin, onions, and some eggplants, among other things. None of the vegetables were as large as the ones Granny Betty tended to grow, but there was enough to sustain me for at least a few days. I took my backpack off, pulled out the small copper pot I'd stolen from Kieran's pack, and walked over to the stream. I plunged the pot in and brought up a pot full of cool, clear water. I thought about boiling it for sanitation purposes, but I was too thirsty to wait and decided to risk it.
I drank until I thought I might burst and then filled the pot again, taking it inside and setting it on the dusty hearth. There was a pile of dust-coated firewood already in the fireplace, and a striking flint sat undisturbed on the stone floor. It took me quite a while to get a fire started with the flint and my knife, but I was eventually triumphant. I set the copper pot beside the fire to heat and went to harvest some squash, onion, and eggplant from the garden.
"I'm going to stay right here until it's absolutely imperative that I leave. Maybe I'll even have time for my feet to heal some before I move again," I told myself, trying to ignore how lonely I was. Talking to myself made me feel a little less alone and a little more secure. I was having a fairly hearty vegetable stew for supper when I heard a pitiful whine and scratching at the door.
I would've known the sound of a hungry dog anywhere. As a child I was forever frustrating my dad by feeding strays, falling in love with them, and demanding that we keep them. I went to the door, opened it just a crack, and peered outside to make sure that this wasn't some sort of trap.
A beautiful but emaciated and undocked cocker spaniel stared up at me with pitiful chocolate-brown eyes. I eased the door open with a soft, coaxing coo. "Well, hello there. What are you doing out here all by yourself, handsome?"
The cocker gave a cautious wag of his tail and sniffed at the cooking smells emanating from the abandoned cottage. I smiled down at him, speaking in the same soft, soothing tones I always used with stray animals. "Are you hungry, angel?"
The dog looked at me, sniffed again, and eased across the threshold into the cottage to smell what I had cooking. When he was far enough inside, I eased the cottage door shut. He looked over his shoulder at me with an expression of mingled curiosity and distrust, but the food smells won him over and he laid down by the hearth, where the food was cooling.
I dug around in my pack and pulled out the jerky packet, unwrapping a piece and crouching down to offer it to the dog. He was slow to respond, it eventually got close enough to eat the jerky.
I fed him a few pieces and slowly lured him close enough for me to pet him. I soothed him and beamed when he cuddled up against my legs. I stroked his head and reached over to get a bowl off the table. I dumped some of the warm vegetable stew into the bowl and set it on the floor in front of the dog, who ate gratefully.
I grinned at him and finished my own food. "You're going to be my buddy, aren't you?"
The dog yawned happily and curled up in front of the fire, promptly falling asleep. I spent two more days in the cottage, resting, eating, healing, bonding with the dog, who I'd named Gabriel, and talking to myself all the while. I'd found stores of dried venison and herbs in the cellar that significantly improved our diet, and I also stuffed my pack full with them, for when we needed to leave.
I was eating dinner on my third day away from Kieran when a familiar voice broke in on my thoughts. "You should’ve kept moving, fool.”
I screamed and clutched my chest in an attempt to calm my pounding heart at the unexpected sound of Aithne’s voice. I spun and saw her leaning against the door frame in the cabin’s entrance. “You scared me on purpose.” I sounded like a petulant five-year-old, but I didn’t care.
“I was merely making a point. "Aithne shrugged, obviously enjoying the element of surprise scaring the crap out of me. "You’ve grown complacent in this shelter you found. You will be captured because of it.”
“Can’t I j
ust avoid capture if I take the dog that found me and leave now?” I snapped.
“No chance. You’re getting what you deserve for being so foolish,” Aithne snapped back with her usual old-testament style wrathful tone.
Frost: An Otherworld Tale (The Otherworld Tales Book 1) Page 8