by S T Branton
We both laughed, and she turned to work on the bacon again, barely saving a few slices from catching on fire. It suddenly occurred to me how much different an incident like that would be here with the Vrya than to us at home. A little grease fire here was cause for mass panic. Good thing Ally wasn’t going to be trusted to cook much.
“Did you sleep well?” The dryad had a soft smile and a pleasing voice. I was damn sure she was an excellent cook, too, by the smell of it.
“Best sleep I’ve had in a while. Thank you for all this. You didn’t need to.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” She dumped the eggs into a skillet beside Ally and scrambled them with a spatula. “It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone to cook for, It made me happy to help you out.”
“I really do appreciate it. The bacon smelled amazing.” I noted there was also bread to toast, sausage sat next to the skillet, and there was a wide assortment of juices on the counter. The middle-aged woman moved around and placed a glass by my side.
“I used to cook all the time for my family. I was up every morning right after dawn to make breakfasts not unlike this one, but for a hungry husband and two growing boys.” She sighed a deep and heavy breath, and I knew what was coming. It didn’t make it sting any less. “They were wonderful men, all three of them. I lost them to a battle with some angry farmers when we lived in Montana. They got caught in the hills and ambushed.”
“And the Philosophers Guild didn’t help?” I asked
“They showed up after the fact and wiped the surviving humans’ memories. But it didn’t bring my boys back.”
“I am so sorry to hear that.” I meant it, too. Shockingly, I felt for a dryad, something I would never have thought possible. But this sweet woman’s story was heart-wrenching, even without her going into too much detail. It was apparent how much she loved and missed her family, and the thought of her tooling around now by herself, so happy for us to visit so she could make a big breakfast and remember her boys, it got to me.
Her response was to smile and pour me a glass of orange juice before turning back to the pan Ally was busy scorching the bacon on and turning the heat down. Our conversation left the weightier things and drifted into a comfortable back and forth, with me reminiscing about pancakes and Ally explaining how her grandmother made the world’s greatest casserole.
I neglected to talk about tacos, although I was fairly certain if I said anything about them, this sweet woman would have made me a dozen or so to take with me. Instead, I let the conversation drift to topics of entertainment and joy and more stories of her husband in better times. The more I listened to her, the more I realized I thought more highly of this dryad than the vast majority of human beings I ever met.
I finished everything on my plate for a second time and pushed myself away from the table in the international symbol for ‘I am so full I might die.’ Ally was sipping on a juice cocktail, and I had joined the little lady in helping clean up when the door opened, and Akker walked inside.
The young and angry Vrya seemed less fiery than the day before, but still put out. He walked into the room as if it were perfectly normal to wander in and hugged the woman from the side.
“Oh, Akker, you good boy, would you like something to eat?” she asked in what might have been the most adorable grandmotherly way of asking anything I ever heard. The words practically dripped with the love and attention of a woman with heart to spare.
“No, thank you. I have to get these two going. It’s my job to take them into town.” He indicated Ally and me. There was a small trace of pride in this announcement. Even if he didn’t trust us, or wasn’t happy about the assignment itself, the fact he was entrusted to do it seemed important to him. I wondered if it meant maybe he would soften a little on our trek back. Otherwise, if he were like he was yesterday, it would be a long and quiet trip.
“Then you need to pack something to go with,” the older lady said in the tones of someone who wouldn’t be denied. I got the feeling anyone who came by her house at anything resembling a mealtime ended up walking away with more than their stomach could carry in one sitting. I wasn’t about to complain, however. The food was delicious. A few moments later, we all had sandwiches wrapped in plastic on our person and a fat smooch on the cheek to send us on our way.
As I left the older woman, I turned back to wave at her, wondering if I would ever see her again. But she was already inside, busy doing whatever it was that needed doing now that her home was empty again. I suppose if I lost my family the way she lost hers, I might not ever wave goodbye to anyone either. You never knew when it really was the last time. It was easier not to put that finality on it, but to let the moment linger.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As we walked to the edge of the town, Akker stayed mostly silent, as though guarded and upset. But once we were out into the woods, he seemed to relax, and I decided to try to get him to talk to us. I was impressed with how Akker respected his elders, despite his apparent wishes to be more forceful with humans, and frankly, I understood it. My prejudices against Farsiders had taken a bit of a beating in the time I spent with the Vrya.
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are, Akker?” I hazarded.
Getting him to talk about himself might go either way. He could be like most men and be all too happy to talk about himself for long periods without stopping to breathe, mostly stories of prowess or toughness or intelligence. Or he could completely shut down, and the rest of our walk would be in complete silence.
Considering the sound of nature in the woods was pretty soothing, and I had spent a decade with no one to talk to but Splinter, and occasionally Solon at random intervals, silence wasn’t exactly a disappointment, either.
“Fourteen. It’s why I’m so small.”
I stared up at him in dumbfounded silence for a moment.
“Small? You must be seven feet tall,” Ally said.
“I wish. I’m only six-eight. Most of the men in the village are at least seven feet, but I haven’t grown all the way yet. I might be bigger than them.” He smiled. He was hoping for north of seven feet.
“From way down here, you guys all look about a hundred feet tall,” I said, and he grinned at the ground, where his eyes stayed eternally focused. We reached the craggy cliff wall, and as I prepared to climb down, Akker simply jumped. He landed on his feet with a bit of a thud fifteen feet down and looked up at me. Slowly, he held out his arms.
“If you want, you could jump down. I will catch you.”
Ally shrugged. “What the hell? Why not jump into a teenage tree-man’s arms from almost twenty feet in the air? Adventures, right?” She dove off without a second thought, and Akker caught her easily.
“Here I come.” I stepped off the cliff face and fell sideways. Akker caught me with ease and sat me gently on my feet. “Don’t get to do that every day,” I said. Akker turned away sheepishly, then continued toward the main path.
“The terrain here is difficult for humans, but for us, it isn’t so bad. We’ve lived in worse places, or so I’ve heard. Here is the right amount of seclusion and closeness to a town that we can survive easily. Or at least, we did until the violence started.”
The sadness and anger in his voice when he talked of the killings was strong. I felt for him. He was a kid and was dealing with terrible realities while trying to swallow the deep call for vengeance. I could relate to that well.
The difference was, while I was trained quite well by Solon and had magic runes fairly often to help me, Akker and the men of his tribe were very physically imposing and strong. I barely got the upper hand when fighting them, and I had the element of surprise and a plan to get what I wanted quickly. Akker looked like his body was made of muscle, and as large as he was, the likelihood was that anyone wishing to fight him would immediately have a rough go of it.
“I know that must be hard. I appreciate you taking us into town.”
“Sure.” He stepped over a small creek in one stride that I had to tak
e a couple of wide steps to get through. “I go into town fairly often now. I won’t be able to soon, and I wanted to get my fill of it before I can’t.” He noticed me looking at him quizzically and before I had a chance to ask, he answered. “Did you notice the older folk, how their skin is rough and tree-like? That will soon happen to me—it’s part of aging. Once we get the bark growing on our skin in places we can’t hide with clothing, we have to retire to the community. The children go into town for us, and we are taught very early the value of money, the value of trade, and how to speak with Nearsiders. Our children, even very young ones, can pass for young adults to humans.”
“How young?” Ally asked, fascinated.
“I went into town for the first time when I was only five. My mother sent me there to get seeds for something she wanted to grow. Tomatoes or something. Anyway, I was trained for it since I can remember, and she handed me money and told me I needed to join another older boy who was going into town to get her things. The older boy would look out for me.”
“That’s nice,” I said.
“It was. He was.” I didn’t miss the past tense in his reference. I decided to leave that alone for now.
“So how long do you have before you can’t go into town?” Ally tried to change the subject.
“A few months, I would guess. My bark is already coming in on my chest and arms. Soon it will appear on my face and neck, and then I have to be done. I never know if I will wake up one day trapped forever in the woods.” Despite his animosity toward Nearsiders over the murders, he seemed to enjoy going into town. I decided to ask the question that had bugged me for a while.
“So, what were you doing in the mine?”
Akker got very quiet for a moment as we continued to walk. He wasn’t avoiding talking, but I could tell he was trying to put words to his thoughts, and it wasn’t coming together for him. Whatever he wanted to say was very difficult for him, and it started to dawn on me.
“I caused it,” he said quietly. “I caused the collapse. Qulma is my mother. The man who was in the mine, the last victim…that was my father.”
“Oh.” I didn’t have better words, not yet.
“I didn’t tell my mother I caused the cave-in. I still haven’t. I don’t think I will. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. The humans keep murdering us, and I can’t sit by and let it happen.”
I was about to say something, words to soothe him or to encourage him to look deeper before resorting to violence when he suddenly stopped, his eyes straight ahead and his body still. We had arrived at the clearing where Ally was taken, and something seemed very wrong.
“Fae,” I said.
I knew it. As they stepped out of the safety and concealment of the trees and into the clearing with us, Akker spun to look at them all. There were six of them, and a few carried blunt weapons.
“Lovely day for a walk. I’m sure the night will be nice, too. Too bad you won’t know,” Naida said mockingly.
“How the hell do you keep finding me?”
She smiled. “Let’s just say one of your enemies has become one of my friends.”
I thought about that for a second, but it didn’t narrow it down. I had a lot of enemies.
“Well, if you don’t piss off now, my number of living enemies is about to shrink,” I shouted.
Akker struck a fighting stance, not unlike a boxer, and I reached for my back pocket. My switchblade was going to get some action really soon. Ally stayed between the two of us.
I expected more repartee, at least something resembling wit, but they attacked instead. I had to admit that it was a sound strategy and one I didn’t see coming. One of the Fae tried to grab me from behind, but I went low while kicking backward and connecting with him, sending him slumping to the ground holding his middle. Another reached me in time to catch a slice from the switchblade, then a right cross from Akker that filled the entirety of my vision as it came across me and into the Fae’s jaw. It cracked loudly, and the Fae dropped, out cold.
Two more Fae jumped at Akker, one on his back and the other on one of his legs. He flipped the one on his back to the ground and kicked the one on his leg into him, sending them both sprawling. Another dove at me and I ducked, and he landed in Akker’s waiting arms, who lifted him over his head and tossed him yards away. Naida smirked as the Fae groaned and tried to stand around us. I leveled a kick at one, sending him back to unconsciousness.
I reared back with my switchblade, daring the leader to attack, but instead, she turned and ran for it, disappearing into the woods in a direction I didn’t know. I was about to start after her when Akker shouted for me.
“Slick! Look,” Ally shouted and pointed south.
Smoke was filling the woods, and it was coming from the direction of town.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We heard the sounds of chaos coming from the town of Hunt while we ran through the woods as fast as we could. People screamed and shouted at each other as the smoke thickened around them, choking out not only the ability to breathe but see. The dark gray smoke billowed in large clouds that seemed to follow one another, making it impossible to orient ourselves reliably. Ally ran right beside me, but Akker got ahead of us, his long legs letting him cover more distance with less effort than Ally and me.
As we left the woods and entered the outskirts of town, I pulled the neckline of my shirt up over my nose and mouth to filter some of the smoke. The worst part was my eyes stinging, and for once, I almost wished I wore glasses. Anything to act as a barrier between my eyes and the acrid gray wall of heat and ash pummeling me.
I called to Akker, but as we entered the town, he ran off faster, presumably to help someone. Ally kept close to me as we followed the road, what little of it we could see, toward the center of the town.
The road led to a hill that went down into a small valley, and through waves of smoke, we saw the source of the chaos. The bar—or rather The Bar—was on fire, flames shooting out impossibly high, and several other buildings nearby were catching. Ally tried to keep up as I tore off toward it. Shailene’s voice could be heard over the chaos, directing people to safety and pleading with people to hurry. I ran past her in a bound, and she spun toward me, sputtering as she tried to get my name out to tell me to stop.
My main concern wasn’t the bar itself, but the buildings next to it. They were mostly apartment buildings, and the people in those rooms could be trapped inside. Indeed, as I drew near them, I heard crashing windows and screams for help. I made a mad dash for the closest one to me and reached up to grab the doorknob. It burned my hand, but I spun it anyway, noting that for a closer building I would want something to turn the knob with.
Coughs filled my lungs, and I nearly fell over trying to breathe. The smoke was thick and vicious as I banged on the doors of the apartments inside for people to get out. The first apartment door opened as I moved on to the second and the person inside, apparently woken from a nap, stared wild-eyed around, then took off back inside.
I banged on the second door, but it swung open under my hand, indicating the people there had already left. I turned to see the first apartment’s tenant hopping out the door with one shoe on while struggling to put on the other. He was planning on running and wanted to make sure he had sure footing, I guessed. Either that or his new kicks were expensive.
I moved to the next floor as Ally came in behind me and started whaling on the other two doors below. Three of the apartments seemed empty, or the doors were ajar, but the fourth, the one closest to the bar itself, stayed closed. I was about to say to hell with it and leave it alone when I heard a faint cry from inside. A baby wailed, as much as it could while coughs peppered its cries.
I reared back and kicked the door as hard as I could, but it didn’t break open. The apartments here were old but well built, and the doors weren’t the type to be easily knocked down. Thankfully, I had a fair amount of experience with kicking things in, so I tried again. This time, I felt the door split near the lock. One
more should do it. I took a step backward and ran at it this time, putting my foot into the weak spot of the door in a Yakuza Kick that focused all of my body weight and momentum on one point. It was more than enough to crash the door open, and it swung in, slamming on the wall.
“Slick?” Ally’s frantic voice called from below. “Are you okay?”
“A baby is trapped in here!” I called back down, and she ran up the stairs.
The smoke up here was thicker, but it was hugging the ceiling more. The apartment itself had ceiling fans that seemed to be sucking the air up, and we dropped to the floor to crawl through so we could see better. The crying came from a bedroom almost up against the wall of the bar, and I wondered who would rent an apartment next to the only bar in town with a baby.
We made it to the room, and the door was ajar. I pushed it open, still on my belly, but the door stopped partway. I tried again and heard it thump against something. Ally scooted in and poked her head around the doorframe, and I heard her exclaim something unintelligible.
“What is it?” The smoke made me cough the words out more than saying them.
“It’s the mom. She’s passed out. The baby is on the floor beside her!”
“Get the baby. Try to wiggle in and get the baby. I’ll get the mom.”
Ally didn’t hesitate, and I was proud of her bravery at that moment. She squirmed inside, and I heard her shuffle around for a moment. “I dragged the mom out of the doorway. Try to open it now.”
I pushed the door again, and this time it didn’t stop until the entire room was open in front of me.
The walls were on fire, flames dancing up into the ceiling and crawling across the room away from the bar. We needed to get them, and ourselves out of there before it got worse. Ally grabbed the baby, pushed its head into her chest to keep it protected, and stood to run out of the room. I heard her leave through the door when I got to the mom. She was still breathing, but it was labored, and she was unconscious.