by M. J. Evans
“Let go of me,” Carling cried without slowing down. The Duende jerked her arm away, revealing red marks from the Faun’s fingers.
The Faun continued to plead with her. “Please, Missy. Please, Missy,” he said. “I don’t want ya to get hurt.”
“Then you shouldn’t have taken my friends,” Carling responded, still running directly toward Higson, Tibbals, Tandum, and the Fauns who were pulling them along.
“And what do ya think you are goin’ to do when you get to ‘em?” asked the Faun. “I can’t help you and you’re all alone.”
Carling stopped and put her hands on her hips. She pressed her lips tightly together and knit her brows, breathing heavily from her run. The Faun stopped beside her.
“I don’t know. I’ll just have to figure it out as I go.” She rubbed her temples, then looked directly at the Faun. “Why can’t you help me?”
“’Cause, in case you haven’t noticed before, I’m a Faun. I am supposed to be one of them,” he said, pointing ahead at the retreating group.
“Then why are you here with me?”
The Faun sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “’Cause I don’t like what’s goin’ on. I don’t like being enslaved to the Cyclops and I don’t like harming innocent creatures.”
Carling looked deeply into his eyes, trying to figure out if the stranger was being sincere or just trying to entrap her. As she studied his dark round eyes, she saw a sadness there coupled with genuine concern. It touched her heart and she reached out and took his hand. “You stay here,” she said with a smile. “I will go alone.” She let go of his hand, turned and started running again.
Chapter 18
Saving Her Friends
As she ran, Carling tried to formulate a plan in her mind. The only weapon she had was her bow and a quiver full of arrows. Fortunately, she was quite good at using them. She looked from side to side at the canyon walls, searching for a place to climb up, hoping to get above and ahead of the Fauns. She was gradually catching up with the group due primarily to Tibbals’ persistent resistance and her own speed.
When Carling was just a short distance behind the band of Fauns and their captives, she still didn’t have a plan. From her right, Carling heard something.
“Shhhh. Missy. Shhhh. Come over here.”
Carling slowed her pace and turned her head. The Faun she had met was motioning for her to come over closer to the cliff. Feeling a tinge of irritation she thought, What now? Regardless, she jogged over. She put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.
“Follow me,” the Faun whispered. “There’s a stream up ahead. If we can get across it before the others, we can wait on the far side an’ ambush ‘em when they cross.”
“I thought you wouldn’t help me?”
The Faun grinned. “A fella has a right to change his mind, don’t he?”
Carling smiled. She was pleased to have company, even if this Faun was, as yet, little more than a stranger. “Let’s do this, then,” she said.
They ran along the side of the cliff, trying to be as quiet as they could be. Tibbals was continuing to make a ruckus and being as difficult as possible. Her arms were tied behind her back, but she bucked and reared as she shrieked and complained. As concerned as she was, Carling couldn’t help but smile as she observed her friend’s tenacity in action.
The Fauns dragging Tibbals along weren’t as impressed and were clearly getting irritated. “Come on, you stupid Centaur,” growled one as he jerked on the ropes that were wrapped around the filly’s neck. “We don’t have all day, you know.”
“Ouch! You’re hurting me. This rope will probably leave ugly red marks on my neck. I want it off right now!”
The constant distraction created by Tibbals worked to Carling’s advantage, enabling her and the Faun to get in front of the group without being noticed. Up ahead, the canyon wall split open in a large crag to the right. A wide stream flowed out of the mountains, carrying the frigid water from the melting snow packs that still glistened in the mountains to the north. Carling and her companion rounded the corner and hurried up the side of the stream until they found a fallen tree trunk that had been carried down the fast-flowing water and now lay wedged between two boulders. It formed a narrow and slippery, but adequate, bridge across the icy cold water.
Carling crossed first, her lithe body carrying her swiftly across to the other side. The Faun had a bit more trouble as his cloven hooves slipped first to one side then to the other. He finally gave up that attempt and, dropping to his hands and hocks, crawled across, gripping the bark with his long fingernails.
Once they were both on land again, they wove through the trees and brush that were feeding off the fresh water and growing thick and lush on the north side of the bouncing stream. A small doe pounced out of a thicket, causing Carling to gasp and stop midstride. The Faun, not seeing Carling stop, ran into her from behind. She fell forward, landing in a brittle scrub oak, and cried out in both shock and pain but quickly covered her mouth to muffle her cry.
The Faun stepped up to her and extended his hands.
Giving him her best frown, she cocked her head and knit her brows. She wanted him to know she was not pleased to be sitting in a scratchy bush.
“Oh, Missy,” the Faun whispered. “I’m so sorry. Twas an accident it twas. I promise. I’ll be more careful. Let me help you up.”
Carling opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. Instead, she clamped her mouth shut and reached out to take his hands. With amazing ease, he pulled her to her feet and started to brush the leaves and sticks off her cloak.
She pushed his hands away. “We don’t have time. They’ll be crossing the river soon. We need to get moving.”
They ran through the trees, whose leaves cast lacy shadows on the ground. When they reached the river’s edge at the point where they anticipated the captors would cross, Carling climbed into a bent pine tree, settled herself on a branch, nocked an arrow, and waited.
The Faun had an idea of his own. Removing the rope from across his chest, he tied one end to the tree that now concealed Carling and dashed to the west as far as the rope would stretch. He lowered the rope to the ground and waited, intending to trip the other Fauns when they arrived.
Their patience was soon rewarded.
Bursting out of the trees that lined the stream, the first of the Fauns aggressively approached the fast-flowing water. They didn’t hesitate as they bound into the river. Their strong, hairy legs pushed through the powerful current, their cloven hooves slipping on the slimy rocks but continuing to move them forward.
Carling nocked her arrow, held her breath, and took aim at the Faun in front. Before she could release her arrow, though, something dropped from the sky, hitting her intended target squarely on the head. He collapsed in the water, and a narrow ribbon of red immediately began flowing downstream from where he lay.
More dark objects fell. Mass confusion erupted as the Fauns in the water scrambled to get to safety…without having any idea where safety might be.
Carling looked up, and then her mouth fell open and her eyes bulged. She could not believe what she was seeing. Overhead, a dozen or more eagles were circling, each clasping a large rock. One by one, they were dropping the sharp, heavy stones onto the Fauns with surprising accuracy.
Below the gnarled pine tree in which Carling sat, her new partner was bouncing up and down and cheering. She watched him and smiled, realizing for the first time that she didn’t even know his name.
On the far side of the river, Tibbals, Tandum, and Higson escaped from the Fauns by helping each other untie the ropes that held them bound. As injured Fauns climbed out of the stream, the Centaurs and the Duende rushed forward and tied them up in their own ropes. As the eagles flew away, their task complete, Carling cheered and called out to her friends. When they looked in her direction, surprise registered clearly on their faces as they realized it was Carling sitting in a tree, waving
at them.
Suddenly, Carling felt a burning in her chest. Her hand flew to the breastplate and covered the green stone that was newly mounted in its place. She knew there was something she must do. But what? She looked back down at the rushing stream. The first Faun that had been felled by the eagles was still in the water, wedged between two boulders. Blood was still flowing downstream from the gash in his head. He wasn’t moving.
Carling swung down from the branch on which she was sitting and dropped to the ground. She ran to the bank of the stream and got as close as she could to the injured Faun. She pulled her quiver and bow off her shoulder and unhooked her cloak, dropping all to the ground. The silver breastplate sparkled in the sun, sending out rays of light that caught the attention of all around, most of whom had struggled back to the far shore. Everyone, including Higson, Tibbals, and Tandum, stopped what they were doing and watched.
Carling stepped into the stream. The icy cold water made her suck in her breath and pause for just a moment. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward, placing her feet carefully on the rocks. One foot at a time, she moved into the rushing water, holding her arms out in an attempt to balance herself. Her teeth started chattering and she could feel her feet and legs getting numb but she carried on, keeping her eyes on the injured Faun.
“Carling, go back,” shouted Tandum from across the stream. “Let him die.”
Carling didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge. She just kept stepping from one rock to the next, trying desperately to keep her balance.
The young Duende had nearly reached her target when her foot stepped onto a rock that rolled out from under her the minute she put her weight on it. Down she went into the frigid water. The water bounced over her as though she were just one more rock to overcome. She pushed herself up, choking and gasping for air. After wiping her wet hair out of her eyes, she pulled herself through the water on her hands and knees.
With tremendous effort, Carling reached the injured Faun. “I’m here to help you,” she shouted above the rushing water.
There was no response.
Carling pressed her ear against his chest. She could hear a soft but slow heartbeat and felt his chest move up and down ever so slightly. He was alive, but unconscious. Grasping his arms, she started pulling. She was able to get his body out from between the boulders, but as soon as she got him into the current, the force of the water began pushing him downstream again. Trying to cut across the stream was more difficult than she ever could have imagined it would be, had she taken the time to think about it…which she hadn’t. She’d just reacted to the feeling within that told her to save the Faun.
Slipping on the rocks and trying to keep the Faun afloat was proving to be more exhausting than her body could manage. Just when she thought it was hopeless, however, Carling was bumped from behind.
“I’ll help you.” It was Higson. Soaking wet, and not extremely pleased based upon the look on his face, he remained Carling’s loyal friend, just the same. Together, the two Duende managed to get the limp body to the shore.
“Now,” said Higson, his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. “Do you want to tell me why we did that?”
“He’s a fellow Crystonian.”
Higson looked at her askance. “Yeah, and he tried to capture us. So why are we saving him?”
Carling reached over and hugged Higson. “I don’t really know, except that we must.”
“Okay,” he said with a snort. “You’re the boss.”
“Let’s get to work healing his injuries,” Carly suggested.
“Do you need this?”
Carling looked around. The Faun that had helped her was standing there with her bag. Higson jerked backward, holding his hands up in defense of an anticipated attack.
“Don’t worry, Higson. This is my friend.” Turning back to the Faun she said, “I don’t even know your name.”
Setting the bag down and extending his hand, he said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, “I’m Pikins, but you kin call me Pik.”
Carling shook his hand. “Well, Pik, thanks ever so much for helping me. Now let’s get these Fauns doctored up.”
Soaking wet and shivering, Carling grabbed her cloak from her bag and covered the Faun she and Higson had pulled from the water. She took a piece of clothing from her bag and ripped it in shreds. As she looked down at the deep gash on the Faun’s head, she felt her stomach turn and bile sting her throat. Blood was not something she enjoyed seeing. Pressing her lips together, she set to work. She used some of the strips of fabric to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. She used others to wrap around his head, weaving them over and under his horns so they would be secure. As she did so, the Faun’s eyes opened and he reached up and grabbed one of her wrists. “What happened?” he said.
“You’re the victim of an attack by eagles,” she said with a warm smile.
The Faun raised his eyebrows and his mouth dropped open as he gazed into her violet eyes. “Eagles?”
Carling nodded. “I guess they didn’t like you capturing my friends.”
The Faun looked away. “Why did you save me?” he said in a whisper.
Carling patted his shoulder. “What you did was wrong, but you don’t deserve to die.”
He looked back at her, his face ashen, his lips trembling. “It would have been better for me to die in the river. The Cyclops will not be pleased that we failed in our assignment. They have terrible tempers. They will punish all of us, perhaps to our deaths.”
Carling became aware of four hooves standing beside them. She looked up into Tandum’s face. It was not a happy expression that he wore. His lips were pressed together, his eyes narrowed. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest. “He’s right, you know. You should have left him to die.”
Carling stood, her voice soft. “We can’t do that, Tandum. We need to treat others with mercy.”
Tandum looked down at her sparkling silver breastplate. “You have the stone…the Stone of Mercy. So that’s what this is all about. Now we have to show mercy to even our enemies?”
“Yes. Even our enemies.”
Tandum snorted. “We’ll see about that.”
Tibbals trotted up beside her brother. “Carling! You have the stone. It’s so beautiful. Look how it sparkles! How did you get it?” she said, excitement making her voice high pitched as her words tumbled out on top of one another.
Her enthusiasm made Carling smile. She related the story of the appearance of Baskus in the fog and his leading her to find them. “I have no doubt that Baskus arranged the aerial attack that saved you,” she added.
Tandum blew out a loud breath. “Well, I’m glad you got the stone so we can turn around and get out of this awful canyon. But what are we going to do with all of these Fauns?”
“Can’t we just let them go?” asked Higson.
“Oh, please take us with you,” pleaded Pik. “We have no place else to go!”
The injured Faun still sitting on the ground joined in. “Yes, if we go back to the Cyclops, they will either torture us or kill us…or both,” he said with a shudder.
The Centaurs and Duende looked back and forth at one another. Carling looked into each of their faces, unable to read what her friends were thinking.
Tandum spoke first. “We can’t possibly take them with us. They will slow us down too much. We have a three-day journey for just the four of us. They can’t keep up.”
Tibbals looked up at her big brother. “I know you are angry with them for trying to capture us. I understand that, of course. But we can’t be responsible for their execution.”
“Maybe they should have thought of that before they signed up to help the Cyclops,” Tandum replied, his voice rising.
Higson spoke up. “Tandum, I understand why you are angry and you have every right to be. If truth be told, I’m angry, too. They were willing to turn us over to the Cyclops. Who knows what would have happened to us? However, I don’t want their lives on my conscience. Isn�
�t there something we can do to help them?”
Tandum snorted and turned his magnificent body around, swishing his tail as he did so.
Carling felt her heart ache. The last thing she wanted was to create a rift between her friends.
When Tandum turned back around, however, the expression on his face had softened. He wasn’t quite smiling, but he wasn’t frowning, either. Looking directly at Carling, he said, “The choice is yours and I will abide by whatever you decide.”
Carling felt tears stinging her eyes. She smiled up at this Centaur whom she already loved so much. She turned back and looked down at the injured Faun, then over at Pik. “It is true that you can’t possibly keep up with Tibbals and Tandum,” she said, chuckling before adding, “I couldn’t, either, if they didn’t carry me along. We also did not bring enough food and supplies to last us even the three days we have left to travel.” She sighed. “Therefore, I would like to make a proposal.”
Pik’s eyes opened wide and the Faun leaned forward a little, appearing hopeful that he would hear good news.
“Pik,” Carling said, “do you think you could get your group together and bring them to Duenton? It will take you several days and you will have to be careful not to be discovered. But when you arrive, we will have a place for you in our village.”
Chapter 19
Leaving the Canyon
Pik ran to Carling and threw his arms around her. He picked her up and swung her around so quickly that her legs flew out behind her. Carling giggled. “Pik, put me down, you silly beast!”
He lowered her gently to the ground, his face red. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got in ta me. It’s just that this is the most wonderful offer I have ever heard.” Then he paused and put one finger to the side of his bushy beard. “What will your villagers say?”
Carling really hadn’t thought that far. “I don’t know, but let us worry about that. You just get your Fauns to our village.”