by Narro, B. T.
“It’s worth taking a moment to check and see if whatever was here cast enough spells for me to make a portal.” He’d been feeling for the heavy energy while walking beside the river, but it had been so exhausting trudging up the slight incline for days that he’d mostly given up. He walked over to put himself at the center of where two sandy pathways met.
To his surprise, he felt exactly what he was looking for. “Alabell,” he said with considerable excitement.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
By the look of joy on her face, Basen assumed she knew what this meant. It wasn’t the ability to make a portal from here that thrilled them, it was the idea of making a portal to here.
They weren’t more than a week away from Tenred. They could return here with the Elves who were in Merejic, hopefully, and then walk to Tenred and recruit more allies.
“Well go ahead and make one,” Alabell encouraged.
“What about Sanya?”
“You care, really?”
“She did spare my life…”
“Only after she killed two of your friends.”
And I’m scared of her as well. He was thankful Alabell wasn’t a psychic.
“If you’re not going to make a portal, you still need some way to remember this wooded area so you can make a portal to here at a later time.”
“I was just trying to think of a way to do it. Any suggestions?”
She didn’t search for anything to burn as she considered his question, putting her entire focus into it. The more Basen had gotten to know Alabell, the more he realized she was like this with everything. He’d seen her hold the untied laces of her boot while discussing the best route to Merejic, remaining hunched over her knee and frozen by thought. Finally, when the group had come to a decision, she’d made a quick knot and popped up, seeming as if she had no idea how long her fingers had been waiting for her orders.
“My most vivid memories are of the places I’ve visited the most often,” she said. “Like my room when I was a child, the dining hall when I was at the Academy, and my quarters at the castle.”
“Very fine advice, except I need to remember a place where I’m only going to spend one night.”
“You haven’t made many portals, right?”
“Right.”
“Then practice making them here. When it comes time to make another, you’ll remember these surroundings easily.”
He frowned at knowing she needed to hear the truth. “I don’t want to anger Sanya.”
This seemed to surprise her. “I thought you didn’t fear anything. You weren’t afraid of your old instructor’s invading army, yet you fear a single woman?”
“I’m being cautious.”
“You’ve already made two portals.”
“And maybe she’s on the way here to kill me, and the only way she’ll find me is if I make more portals.” He went on as Alabell opened her mouth. “I realize I sound like a coward, but the truth is that I would be putting you and the rest of the group in danger. There must be another way for me to remember this place.”
“I don’t think you’re a coward.”
“Good.”
She paused again and then began to nod. “You’re right. There must be another way for you to remember this place.” She folded her arms, and her usually gentle and caring face took on a dark look. “Part of me wants Sanya to come for us, I suppose. I think it’s the only way we’ll see her again.”
“She’ll show herself eventually. And before then I’d better learn how to resist psyche.”
“We’ll have Annah teach us.”
“Agreed.”
They went back to collecting fuel for the fire when a thought struck Basen.
“We can make something memorable happen here,” he suggested. “I’ll never forget the battle within the Fjallejon Mountains, for example, so I’ll always be able to make a portal back there.”
“I hope you don’t need something that memorable.”
“I was thinking of something else. Something we can do.” He let his gaze linger on her. They’d only shared one kiss, and it was right before Alex had been killed. There was no connection between the two events, but Basen couldn’t help recall Alex’s throat being cut whenever he remembered the feeling of Alabell’s lips. The best way to disassociate the events was to kiss her again, but the mood had never been right.
Her mouth twisted nervously, though there was a hint of a smile as she looked him square in the eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
He had a swig from his water pouch to moisten his dry lips. “I can’t tell you because the surprise will be part of what makes it memorable.”
She blushed as he approached. It was hardly a surprise now, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He set down the sticks and dry leaves he’d collected, then dusted off his arms and shirt. She set down her collection and did the same. She closed her eyes and awaited his lips, but as he leaned in, something caught his eye—a gray creature as tall as Cleve but with even wider shoulders and chest. God’s mercy, a Krepp. His yellow eyes shined under the shade of the tree he seemed to be using to spy on them.
“Kirjek!” the creature bellowed. His vocal cords thrummed low as they held the last syllable, his claws slicing through the air in a sign of aggression.
Alabell’s eyes came open, and then she glanced past Basen and gasped. He began to turn, but she grabbed him and started to run. He tripped, then hopped back up and ran with her. An arrow flew by and broke against a tree. Two Krepps burst out from a thick wall of bushes in front of them. They hissed, baring their sharp teeth.
Alabell yelled for Cleve as Basen got his wand up. She yanked him toward her before he could shoot. Another arrow zipped by.
The Krepps shouted in a throaty language as they chased after Basen and Alabell. He sped up and took the lead, running in the direction Cleve and Annah had gone.
But soon, two more Krepps came out from behind the trees and blocked their path. Basen halted and drew in energy. The Krepps seemed to recognize the sight of a wand, jumping back out of view before he could fire. He let the energy disperse and took the sword from his sheath.
“Come on,” Alabell shouted as she took a sharp turn. She had her dagger in hand now as Basen trailed.
They weaved through the trees, but the Krepps stayed with them, running alongside with only a few rows of trees separating them. The muscular creatures were startlingly fast, their thick legs moving at a blurring speed.
Alabell and Basen couldn’t run fast enough, and soon the Krepps had circled them, staying near the trees so Basen couldn’t get a clear shot. He and Alabell ducked behind trees of their own, for Kreppen archers behind them wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.
“What do you want, Krepps?” Alabell screamed.
Several of them yelled back, though if any had given a response in common tongue, Basen couldn’t understand it. Their words were like grunts of anger, their voices deep and raspy.
There seemed to be five of them as they quickly closed in. Basen got a fireball off and hit one in the chest before he could jump out of the way. Basen then ducked back behind a tree before he had a chance to see if he’d killed the Krepp.
“Cleve!” Alabell screamed again.
A Krepp yelled out in anguish. Basen peered around the tree to see one of the Kreppen archers staggering with an arrow stuck in his chest. Cleve ran toward the other archer, dropping his bow and drawing his bright sword. Annah trailed behind, a look of fear on her face. She held out her hand at the now fleeing Krepp, and he tripped and fell over his feet. Cleve stabbed the Krepp through his head, hardly stopping on his way to Basen and Alabell.
Basen ran out ahead of Cleve to face the three remaining Krepps, none of them with bows. He aimed his wand and prepared a fireball, but they scattered instantly, disappearing behind the trees. One had a black and red chest from Basen’s fireball, but he didn’t seem any slower t
han the other two. The Krepps yelled to each other in what sounded to be anger.
“Wait, Basen,” Cleve said softly.
They crept toward the trees with Annah and Alabell behind.
“Are there any others?” Basen asked the psychic.
“Just the three.”
“Are they scared?” Alabell whispered. “If so, they might want to run.”
“They’re scared.”
“But they won’t run,” Cleve said firmly.
With Cleve being the only one who’d fought Krepps before, Basen believed him.
The Krepps chattered, sounding like a group of pigs trying to form words. One shot a look out from behind his tree, causing Cleve and Basen to jerk their weapons up. But the Krepp only hissed and then spat out a glob of saliva farther than any human could hope to spit. Basen lifted his leg to keep it from hitting his shoe.
The other Krepps emerged and puffed out their massive chests. They began to stomp and slam the hilts of their long swords against the tree trunks, chipping off bark almost as if they were swinging an ax. God’s mercy, the beasts were intimidating.
“They don’t want to fight,” Annah said. She leaned forward and told them in her squeaky voice, “We don’t want to fight, either!”
The three Krepps looked similar to each other, but there were subtle differences between them. All had tufts of black hair sprouting from the top of their head, and all their lizard eyes were bright yellow, one closer to gold while another teetered on orange. Their mouths split their small reptilian heads that protruded outward like a dog’s muzzle. Two nostrils sat at the center of their fearsome faces, the holes stretching open with each fuming breath.
They were males, clearly, none with shirts but all with crude leather pants. Basen felt a new surge of fear as he noticed the claws on their hands and feet, far longer than any cat’s. One of the Krepps had dug his toes into the grass, ripping it free and holding it as if ready to flick it in Basen or Cleve’s face.
“Careful,” Cleve warned, “they’ll spit in your eyes as they fight.”
Annah grabbed Basen’s shirt. He turned to see that she had Cleve’s in her other hand. “Run. We have to run.”
“There’s more?” Basen figured.
“No, I’ll explain later. Run!”
“I will not,” Cleve said adamantly.
“Then you’re as stupid as they are.” Annah tried to tug on Cleve and Basen’s shirts, but her feeble arms gave up when they refused to move. “Listen to me! They won’t follow.”
Annah may have been the most easily frightened of their group in the journey so far, but there wasn’t fear in her voice. There was only confidence. She somehow knew what she was saying.
“Come on, Cleve.” Basen ran, followed by Alabell and Annah. It left Cleve no choice but to turn and join them.
They each glanced over their shoulders, but Annah turned out to be right. The creatures put away their swords and stood and watched until they could no longer be seen.
“We could’ve killed them,” Cleve complained.
“So what?” Annah snapped back. “We could’ve been injured or killed in the process.”
They ran until they left the small forest behind. Then they climbed up a hill and looked behind them in case the Krepps had followed.
“We won’t see them again,” Annah said just as confidently as before.
“I don’t believe psyche could tell you that.” Cleve had a quick swing of his water. By his annoyed look, it seemed that aggression hadn’t yet left his body as it had for Basen. Unlike Cleve, he was willing to avoid a fight whenever possible.
“It wasn’t just psyche. It was from what I know about Krepps. Honor to them is the same as right and wrong. To flee from humans, especially humans who’ve already killed their comrades, would make them feel…I suppose guilty is the right word.”
“Do you mean ashamed?” Alabell suggested.
“No, guilt, because anything that brings them shame is the same to us as when we do something wrong. Shame can even be as bad for them as murder is for us.”
“Are you sure about that?” Basen asked. “It seems insane.”
“Maybe not the exact same as murder, but close.”
“She’s right,” Cleve confirmed. “Zoke told me about the way Krepps see honor. It’s like how we look at morality.”
Annah nodded. “That’s why they let us run. It gave them back some of the honor they lost when Cleve slayed their comrades.”
Cleve began walking again and gestured for them to follow, his fists clenched as if still wanting to fight. “So that means they might try to find us if they decide letting us live brings them too much shame.”
“Perhaps,” Annah said, though her voice showed she didn’t quite agree. “They won’t attack us while we sleep, though. No honor in that.”
These creatures, although strong, sounded idiotic. They’d risk their lives just to keep from feeling shame. “Is it their culture that makes them think this way?” he asked Annah. “Or is it their instincts?”
“I don’t know, but I would be interested to find out.”
“Cleve,” Alabell said, “how well did you know Zoke?”
Basen hadn’t heard much about the Krepp who’d joined Kyrro and fought against his kin, just that he was loyal.
“I trained with him often. He isn’t as large as those other Krepps we saw, but his skill with the sword is impressive.”
“There’s something bothering me,” Basen admitted. “Those Krepps attacked us for no reason. How do we know the Krepps in Merejic won’t do the same? There’s bound to be a lot more than five of them when we eventually find the village.”
“There might not be.” Cleve spoke slowly, finally looking as if the aggression had drained out of his body. “The Elves might’ve scared them off.”
“And if they haven’t? If hundreds, maybe thousands of Krepps are still there, why wouldn’t they attack us?” Basen pointed toward where the copse of trees was now hidden by the hill they’d just climbed.
“If the Krepps are still there, then Zoke should be with them. He’s an ally. He’ll make sure no harm comes to us.”
Cleve sounded certain, but it didn’t change Basen’s mind about the risk. To him, the Krepps seemed like wild animals with the ability to communicate. And god’s mercy, they were fast.
Their group walked for a while with night fully upon them. A cold wind brought up dust from the dry ground. They’d be walking through desert for at least a day.
“There was a reason they attacked us,” Annah said in a foreboding tone. “They were hunting.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Basen said, imagining all too vividly Krepps ripping his flesh from his bones with their teeth, then chewing hungrily.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Effie felt as if she’d swallowed a pit as she marched out of the Academy with nearly half the students and instructors forming neat rows around her. Enemy soldiers had set up camp around them to prevent this very thing. They certainly would attack, but would it be the school, or would they close in around Effie’s group?
She was too short to see over everyone around her. “Are they coming for us?” she asked Reela, who was nearly a head taller.
The psychic stood on tiptoe. “I can’t tell. Too many tall warriors in the way.”
After arguing with Alex the dog for a while, she and Reela eventually convinced him to stay in their house and await their return. This decision was made after Reela had told Effie that Alex desperately needed to sleep. He probably hadn’t on the way there, running through the night to get to Effie.
She still had many questions about how he’d come to her in a dog’s body, but from what she and Reela had gathered from him before leaving, it was all Sanya’s doing.
“I’ve been thinking, Eff,” Reela said. “You shouldn’t tell Alex that you’ve forgotten him. You probably don’t remember, but he loved you. So it would devastate him to know that all the memories you shared we
re gone from your mind.”
“It feels strange to be talking about a dog that was once human. Are we really sure it’s him?”
“Yes, Effie. I can feel him in there. But…”
“What? You can’t feel him?”
“No, that’s not it. I can.”
“Then what?”
“I’m just worried.”
“Don’t be. I won’t tell him the truth. I’ll pretend I remember. It’ll be easier given that he can’t speak.”
Reela took on a sad look and said nothing.
“I’m sorry I took the potion,” Effie said, “but I must’ve been in a lot of pain.”
“It’s annoying because I can’t even speak to you about it anymore, now that you’ve forgotten. It would be like me trying to blame you for something someone else did.”
Effie tried putting on a charming smile. “So you shouldn’t be mad at me for it.”
“I’ll try.” Reela wasn’t in the same jovial mood as Effie. Why am I not afraid? They would reach their enemies in Raywhite Forest before nightfall, yet the thought evoked no emotion. Effie’s stomach didn’t quite feel right, the pit still heavy down there, but it didn’t seem to be from fear.
Effie remembered her previous battles quite well. In fact she was destined to keep reliving them. Her nerves had been at their worst leading up to each battle. But once it had begun, and she could put her abilities to use, she’d become comfortable in her own skin. It wasn’t much different than the feeling before a performance, except she knew failure would lead to death instead of shame.
Battle had a way of putting everything else into perspective.
“Are you scared?” Effie asked Reela. Perhaps they’d fought enough times now that both of them had gotten used to the threat of death.
“I am as much as I usually am.”
Then it was just Effie who wasn’t afraid, but Reela had always seemed braver. “Did Steffen mention if the potion would take away fear?”
“It was only supposed to make you forget Alex. But you know Steffen—there are always side effects with his newly invented potions.”