by Taki Drake
Bits of blood and ichor, bone and shredded bandage spewed everywhere. Pavel and Mikhail were thrown back and down by the force of the explosion. The semi-trapped creature on the ground close to Zhanna sent a dirge of rage and grief resonating through the air. Once again, Dascha and Tisha dropped to the ground from the effects of the sound, this time unconscious. Zhanna could see that all their Hidden Folk allies had collapsed.
Mikhail was scrabbling at the ground frantically trying to unearth their twig-like team members, while Pavel had run toward a spot in the underbrush about 20 feet away. Emerging a few seconds later, more heavily burdened, it was apparent that the mercenary had retrieved more of their allies. Noma and Dulam’s limp bodies were in his arms, and it appeared he had the tiny female tucked inside of his shirt. Zhanna could see her head fur peeking out close to his collar.
The assault of sound that marked the grief of the Demon drew Zhanna’s attention back to her semi-disabled opponent. Drawing a deep breath, the young Witch prepared herself to destroy the creature only to see it turn its head and bite through a medallion that hung around its neck. Splashing up into a dome of protection, a Magical field appeared around the remaining Bies.
Knowing that she was too late, Zhanna attempted another bolt to force, but her attack was shrugged off by the protective dome. Knowing that she was close to the end of her own endurance, the young Witch held her unconscious Familiar and the equally stunned Tisha in her arms and cast frantically for an idea on what to do with their enemy.
A ward! A ward turned inward, like a protective fence. I can make it do a containment rather than a protection.
Gathering her energy for one last effort, Zhanna cast an instinctive, intuitive variation of the spell that she had learned just the day before. The greater ward spell created a fiery wall of control and containment, rising up over the dome to an unscalable height. The young Witch knew that it would last long enough for her to create a more permanent solution. For right now, she needed to gather the survivors and get them and her wounded back to their campsite. There, protected by the warding she had set up, they could rest and recover.
Stumbling in her tiredness, pushing her battered body and bruised mind for just one more effort, Zhanna turned to limp her way into the labyrinth to collect the surviving Hidden Folk. Hearing running footsteps behind her, the young Witch tensed defensively, only to relax when she heard Kasha’s gasping breath, “Zhanna, what do you need me to do?”
Over her shoulder, determination sounding in her voice, the young woman said, “Check on Narama. He was thrown against the rock wall! Then come help me with any of the survivors that need assistance.”
So focused was she on her objective that Zhanna missed registering his immediate response. “Yes, Lady. I will obey and be by your side shortly.” If the young woman would have been aware enough to hear him, she would have marveled at the naked worship in his voice. Dascha, conscious and hearing, would have recognized it as the sound of a soldier pledging fealty.
Chapter 34 – Wards and Borders
It had taken a while to get everyone back to their campsite. Zhanna had kept conscious and moving long enough to double check the warding and then collapsed. Dascha, coping with a splitting headache but alert and furious with her inability to protect her Witch during the battle watched over the young woman. Refusing to let anyone close to Zhanna until she had slept, Dascha hissed like a demented tea kettle any time someone attempted to approach the sleeping woman.
Elsewhere in the camp, injuries were treated, and families reunited. Pavel and Mikhail had only minor wounds, and the subcommander took overall responsibility for making sure everyone was taken care of. His retrieval of the stunned Hidden Folk had done a lot for his reception by their allies. Mikhail, as usual, seemed to attract the small ones. At any time he could be found by the fire, with a large group of the almost mythical beings by his side. He certainly didn’t lack errand runners, as the Hidden Folk vied with each other for the honor of fetching him water or food. Stefan’s injuries were worse. Tolya had acted as an unofficial medic, stitching wounds and splinting breaks and sprains.
The demands of battle recovery focused all of the mercenaries on their tasks, leaving them little or no energy to notice the strangeness of the situation.
Relying on the Hidden Folk to supplement the sentries, only Kasha and Tolya were up to standing watch. They consider themselves lucky to have duties on a quiet night.
<< <> >>
The mission team and the rescued Hidden Folk spent the next two days in recovery. All of them needed to heal, and those with the more serious injuries needed treatment. Zhanna had wakened the following day still exhausted, but uninjured. She had been tearfully thankful that all of her team had come through alive.
The young Witch knew that she was not recovered after the first day. Tears threatened at the edge of her sight, and she felt fragile, thin of power and shaky. Sitting in front of the campfire, she held a cup of tea in her hands, enjoying the warmth and trying to regain the center of her serenity.
Moving on trembling legs, Stefan was guided to a seat next to Zhanna by Mikhail. His ever-present group of Hidden Folk scurried around removing small things from the path and making sure that the place was available and cleaned off for the two mercenaries.
“I’m glad to see you up and moving, Stefan. I think you are probably the most injured of any of us. How do you feel?” asked Zhanna.
“I am doing better, although embarrassed to some degree. As the overall battle commander, I should’ve arranged it so that I wasn’t the one who took most of the injuries. Somehow that’s breaking a rule in the Mercenary Guild.”
“We had no way of knowing that the Evil Ones needed Magical attacks to soften them up. With you the only Mage on the one side, it all fell to you.”
“It still seems to me that I should’ve managed it better.”
Zhanna nodded her agreement, thinking to herself, And I feel like it is my fault. Despite what others had said and what she could feel over the Familiar bond, the young Witch kept thinking that if she had not been as inexperienced, she would have managed the whole situation better.
<< Stop whimpering in your nest and do something useful! No mewling little kitten is going to make much progress. Groom your fur, put on your big kitty expression, and move forward! >>
<< Dascha, you DO remember that I’m not truly a cat? >>
<< Of course, I do. However, you knew exactly what I meant. >>
Once again, Zhanna was left without a rejoinder. It was getting to be a habit when trying to argue with her Familiar. Concluding that it was a small price to pay for Dascha’s presence in her life, the young Witch smiled and drank more of her tea.
<< <> >>
The Hidden Folk clustered in groups, discussing topics accompanied by serious expressions and sad faces. When Zhanna or the mercenaries got close enough, the conversation lapsed into silence, and Zhanna knew that crucial and critical things were being decided.
When Stefan and Pavel came to her, uneasy with the lack of knowledge of the topics at hand, the young Witch had moved from follower to leader. No longer was she an inexperienced mercenary going into battle. Now her role was different, and her responsibility to the Hidden Folk made her the expert in the lead.
Telling the older mercenaries that when the Hidden Folk came to a decision, she was sure that they would be informed, Zhanna concentrated on recovery, both hers and everyone in the camp.
The young woman was enchanted by the emergence of tiny children of the Hidden Folk. Some of them, no larger than a mouse, slowly got braver, eventually to be found cuddled up next to Dascha as she slept. Zhanna kept her amusement private as she contemplated the way that her Familiar treated the tiny ones almost like kittens.
That restraint was tested when the Witch looked over and realized that one of the smallest had gotten dirty and that the black cat had the child pinned down and was determinedly giving it a tongue bath. The child’s soft whimpers of protest ma
de no impression on Dascha. The Familiar muttered that the little one shouldn’t get dirty if it didn’t want to be washed. Zhanna was even more pleased to see past the cat into the face of the child’s mother who looked both approving and thankful.
As Zhanna recovered, her perception of the warded Demon increased. The feeling of wrongness grew like the very earth was rejecting the Demon’s presence.
<< Dascha, the Evil Ones don’t belong in this world. I think they may have come here through something like the Cold Doors that the others talk about. I want to send them back when we encounter them, but I don’t know how. Maybe my Blagogarsk mentors will understand but what do we do in the meantime? >>
<< My Witch, dearling, first get the Hidden Folk to a safe place, as you vowed. Find a temporary solution for the Demon and then let’s go back to the city and ask your mentors for help. >>
<< With the protection field that he has, I don’t think we can kill him. He will need to be confined until we can deal with him, possibly for a long time. >>
<< What about Sympathetic Magic? Remember in Blagogarsk they have that map of the city and they use it to cast a protection spell around the whole perimeter? Could you do something like that? >>
<< Yes! That is brilliant! I can do that, and it will last a few months at least. That will give us enough time for me to get some help from my mentors and still get back here and create a permanent solution. >>
Pleased that they had come to a decision, Zhanna explained what she wanted to do to her team. Stefan and Pavel had no alternate solutions to offer and immediately agreed with her. Noma looked a little uncomfortable, and Zhanna asked him to contribute his opinion.
The small Hidden Folk male hesitated for a moment and finally began to speak. “We have all been talking and are decided that we do not want to stay here. It is too exposed and carries too many sad memories now. We lost more than eight of every ten people in our group, and we are left with widows and orphans, isolated elders and broken families.”
After a moment, Noma continued, saying, “You and your Baba told us that we were welcome to live by you, in the shadow of your protection. Is that offer still open?”
“Of course, it is.”
“Then that is what we wish to do. We are now too few to survive on our own, and we hope that your protection will allow our children to live.”
Chapter 35 – Danger Delayed
The next day Zhanna and her team were moving early in the morning. Breaking down the campsite and getting packed up in the vehicle was accomplished quickly with so many hands to help. All of the extra passengers and their items were small and did not make a big difference to the needed space. Most of their new team members were frightened and skittish. Zhanna and the mercenaries made sure to be as non-threatening as possible as they loaded the SUV.
It lacked an hour to full dawn when the door to the large vehicle was closed, and the task force headed for home. The SUV was carrying many more passengers than it had on their initial rescue journey. On that leg of the trip, they had six humans and five Hidden Folk. The return leg still had the same number of humans, although all of them sported some form of injury. However, the thing that changed the atmosphere of the entire interior of the vehicle was the more significant numbers of the small bodies that created a soft background of gentle movement and twittered speech.
The refugees were very quiet for the most part. Shocked and grieving, they watched everything that went on with big eyes and fears lurking in the back of their gaze. Noma and Tisha, aided by Saroc, Dulam, and Frasch, did what they could to reassure their friends and keep things as calm as possible. They were only partially successful.
Zhanna knew that it was going to be quite a while until the grieving and sense of disorientation went away. She remembered the pain of grief and anger when she heard about her brother. The young Witch wondered how much worse it would have been if she had been present when he died.
Children of any species are more resilient. Even with the tension and the trauma of the last few weeks still present in their skinny little bodies and various injuries, the children were soon swarming around the interior of the big vehicle and laughing and playing. Their chaotic mix of happiness and childhood contention made it impossible for anyone to be too lost in depression or grief.
Even Dascha was unable to maintain her aloof persona. The Familiar was festooned with the tiny Hidden Folk constantly. They climbed on top of her head, they tried to comb her tail, some even nestled against her side and clutched her fur as they took naps. Displaying more patience than Zhanna had suspected that her Familiar was capable of, the black cat reacted to surprising little shrieks in the depths of her ears and determined games that used her body as a prop.
The young Witch was tremendously entertained by watching some of these games. Leaning over against the uninjured side of Mikhail, Zhanna said in an undertone, “I can’t decide what my favorite play-with-the-cat game is. Right now I’m torn between Hiding in Kitty’s Ears and Sliding down the Cat Tail. What do you think?”
“Personally, I like the treasure hunt of what can you find in Cat Fur. I don’t think there could possibly be a flea or another bug that is anywhere on Dascha’s body at this point.”
<< He had better watch out, or I’m going to suggest to them that men’s beards are more fun to explore and the hair on their head is longer and has more possibilities than fur. If I do that, he will soon be the favorite object of games! >>
Zhanna gurgled in laughter, knowing that both Dascha and Mikhail would think that her amusement was in response to what they said. The young Witch knew that they would both be equally incensed if they understood the true reason for her mirth. Her laughter stemmed from the relieved realization that she was going home with everyone that she had set out with.
Her brother had used to say that any battle was a win if you and your team survived. This was the first time that Zhanna felt that sense of joy, that appreciation of being alive. The bruises, the aches, regrets on actions that she could have done better, all of those paled against the sheer overwhelming relief and celebration of life.
<< <> >>
The trip seemed much shorter on the way back than it had on the way there. Zhanna thought perhaps it was because the fear of the unknown was less and that they were celebrating success rather than planning a risky venture. It was not even midafternoon when they drove through the village, heading straight for Zhanna’s home.
As they pulled up the bumpy pathway to her grandmother’s house, Zhanna thought, it looks like we will have to improve the road if we are going to keep the vehicle.
Realizing that she had already made a decision, the young Witch said, “We need to make this road better. I also think we need to get another vehicle.”
Stefan immediately responded, “Mikhail and I were going to talk to you about that. Taking the bus is too much of a security risk. We would be vulnerable on the bus and be endangering other passengers if Maxim decided to attack.”
“Strategically, our group is going to need a flexible ability to transport. Maxim is just the first of many that will probably test our defensive capabilities. It would be a mistake not to have the ability to respond to threats more quickly,” added Pavel.
<< Our? That sounds like an interesting development. >>
<< Shush, Dascha. Let me concentrate on what’s going on. You are right in that it is interesting, although I would’ve called it important. Let’s just listen right now, and we can talk later. >>
The side conversation with her Familiar had been very short, so Zhanna had not missed any of the rest of the discussion. All of the mercenaries in the passenger compartment were discussing the need for additional vehicles. It became a total free-for-all when Noma chimed in and started explaining strange concepts about engines and suspensions.
Zhanna felt entirely out of her depth. Cars were not something that she had ever really cared to know much about, but apparently, she was going to need to understand at least a little more tha
n she did now. Vowing to herself to be open to the others’ enthusiasm, the young Witch stayed silent and just listened.
It was difficult. Zhanna knew that they were excited, but the terms and the fabric of the language were so foreign that she had a terrible time following it. Feeling buffeted around by so many strange ideas, Zhanna found herself watching the interplay of the people more than participating in the discussion.
Noma was bouncing up and down in his energized presentation of his view on engine capabilities, while Mikhail’s sometimes shouted contributions from the driver’s seat centered on steering and control. After watching Noma’s actions in awe, two of the other Hidden Folk had jumped into the arguments, one of them in support of Noma’s position and the other agreeing with Mikhail. It was amazing and heartwarming to the young Witch.
She smiled in pleasure, and then her expression widened as Dascha’s tart, mental voice was heard, << Want to make a bet that both of those are male? >>
<< I might take you up on that bet, but not in this particular instance. There may be female Hidden Folk that love cars, but private ownership of motorized vehicles is very rare in the villages. You wouldn’t find very many women in the village that could even understand half of the terms these men are throwing around. >>
<< You are right, I'm just snarky. The same thing happens when you get mothers with small babies talking. Anyone else feels like they wandered into a different land. >>
<< So, what you’re really trying to tell me is that being an outsider to a discussion of enthusiasts can be very uncomfortable. >>
<< Yes! It is reason number 32 in the Snarky Handbook. >>
<< Reason number 32? >>
<< It is 32nd on the list of reasons to be snarky! >>
Zhanna smiled and looked out the window. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she could feel her pulse slamming in her veins. Her grandmother’s small form was lit by the light of the morning sun as she waited on the porch. The young Witch erupted out of the car door scrambling across Mikhail without consideration for injury or anything else. Making a beeline for her grandmother, Zhanna threw both arms around the small frame, and the two women clung together in celebration and relief.