Path of the Specialist

by Pedro Urvi

  The trail was very clear, and he followed it for some time. The forest, covered with snow, gave a false sense of tranquility, and he did not trust it. Suddenly the wind gusted through the trees and a moaning sound passed over their heads. Ona looked up at the tips of the trees, her ears stiff.

  He stroked her back. “Easy, girl, it’s only the wind.”

  Ona listened to the moaning and growled. She did not like it.

  “I don’t like it either, but in this forest that’s what the wind sounds like.”

  He waited for a moment to let her get used to the strange sounds. When he saw that she was more relaxed, they went on. He had his bow at the ready, and he took care not to make any noise as he went. He had no idea of what he would have to face, but whatever it was, he knew it was sure to be complicated. The trail veered from the path that crossed the forest, which did not surprise him. What he did find odd was that it was so clear: footsteps of a man of average size, not too heavy, wearing boots that were not particularly large. Lasgol guessed that it was either Gisli or Ivar. He went on and found a clearer print on a stretch of less snowy terrain, which made him think it was not Gisli and hence must be Ivar.

  Knowing who he was up against gave him some confidence. He reached an area with many bushes and few trees, and crouched. Ona did the same beside him, imitating his movements. The trail vanished in the bushes as if all of a sudden Ivar had disappeared by magic. Lasgol watched warily from behind a large snow-covered bush. He could not see the Elder, but his instinct told him he was here, somewhere, waiting to get him. The trail died out in the midst of the bushes. Immediately he checked the direction of the wind. It was blowing from the east, and as he was approaching from the south, that left the west and north as positions where Ivar might be waiting.

  He sighed and thought it over. If he left his shelter to cross the tangle of bushes, he knew he would get an arrow he would not even see coming. And the worst thing of all was that Ivar never missed. Besides, if the Master was posted there waiting, he would not stand a chance. He began to feel nervous. How could he get out of this tangle? Ona looked at him, waiting to go on. And then he had an idea. He himself could not leave cover, but Ona could. She could reconnoiter. Ivar would not release at her, because if he did he would give himself away, and that was something an Archer posted in a particular spot would never do.

  “Ona, listen,” he whispered.

  At once she looked into his eyes, waiting for a command.

  “Ona. There.” He tapped two fingers against the palm of his hand, then pointed with them to the trees in the north.

  Ona understood at once and gave a soft chirp of acceptance. She set off to the area Lasgol had indicated, walking cautiously, ears stiff, watching and listening to everything that was going on around her. When she reached the area she walked around, stopping several times to sniff. Lasgol watched her from where he was lying on the ground behind the bush, one eye out and the rest of his body well covered to avoid being a target. Seeing that she was not reporting anything strange, he signaled to her to come back by tapping his thigh with his fingers several times. He did not want to whistle, to avoid giving away his own position, so he waited for her to look at him.

  “Good girl, Ona,” he whispered in her ear. The panther rubbed herself against his body.

  Now he sent her to the west. When she reached a group of trees a hundred and fifty paces away, she stopped, began to sniff around a tree and then stared up at its crown. The fur on her back and tail stood on end. She growled aggressively, showing her fangs.

  Ivar was there!

  Lasgol scanned the top of the tree carefully. He could not see the Elder, who must be very well camouflaged. Ona, who was in an aggressive mood, took a leap and climbed into the lower branches of the tree. At that moment Lasgol saw movement on the upper branches. He half-closed his eyes and saw Ivar’s silhouette as he aimed his bow at Ona.

  It was the chance he was waiting for. With a quick movement he got down on one knee, aimed and released. The arrow flew toward Ivar’s torso, but at the last moment it strayed a little to the right. It hit a branch, and the tip broke.

  Ivar realized where Lasgol was. He aimed and was about to release, but Lasgol hid before he could do so.

  Lasgol smiled. He had missed, but he had already foreseen that. He had used a Summer Slumber arrow.

  Ivar began to climb down the tree as fast as he could, and Ona growled several times.

  Lasgol nocked another arrow and came out from behind the bush, aiming at Ivar as he jumped down to the ground. Ona jumped after him.

  “You can call off your familiar, you’ve passed,” Ivar said. Then he fell to the ground, out to the world.

  “Ona. Here,” Lasgol ordered, and tapped his thigh with his fingers three times. Ona walked past Ivar and came back to him.

  “Ona. Good,” he said, and petted her all over, and the panther responded by purring like a huge kitten.

  Lasgol approached the spot where Ivar was lying and checked that he was all right. Nothing had happened to him. He would sleep for some time thanks to the effect of the gas. The Elder had been clever to climb down so hurriedly, because otherwise he would have been unconscious when he fell to the ground. Experience and knowledge, Lasgol guessed.

  Seeing the Elder unconscious on the ground filled him with renewed courage. The first obstacle had been overcome.

  “Let’s go for the second one,” he whispered to Ona.

  They found the trail again. It was now beginning to be more difficult to follow, and he had to be more careful to avoid losing it.

  “They’re beginning to make it harder for us,” he whispered to Ona, who was watching for any strange movement.

  The trail had now changed. These were not the footprints of a man, but a woman. Lasgol could read them well, and guessed that they were either Annika’s or Engla’s. He stopped to analyze them. Although the trail was harder to follow now, it did not seem to be Engla’s. She was capable of hiding her trail, making it practically imperceptible. No, this was not hers, so it had to be Annika’s.

  They came to a ravine among the trees. In the deepest part, among several fallen trees half-covered with snow, the trail vanished again. Lasgol crouched behind a tree and searched the area carefully. He did not like this place at all, feeling that it was too good a setting for an ambush. If he went down to track, somebody would fall on him. No, he was not going to go down there, that was for sure.

  From where he was, he could not see where the trail went on, so he was at a crossroads again. If he went on, he feared an ambush. But he could not stay there, because he had to get on with the test, and losing the trail meant failing. The best thing would be to send Ona to investigate.

  “Ona. There,” he told her. He tapped his fingers on his palm and pointed at the upper part of the ravine.

  The panther went over to it obediently. He was finding communicating with her easier all the time. Gisli had told him that in a year they would be communicating without problems, almost instantaneously. He knew he could use his Gift with her, but he was afraid of frightening her and he knew that using magic was not what Gisli expected of him. He had to do it by traditional means.

  Ona searched the area, but found nothing that caught her attention. Lasgol decided to move forward to the other side of the ravine, which was lower. He moved at a crouch, with his bow at the ready and in silence. He was looking at the ground, searching for the slightest trace of any trail. Suddenly his eye caught something. There was a small protuberance in the snow that did not look natural, and he was surprised. He put his bow down and took out his knife. Very carefully he examined the bump with his weapon and heard a metallic sound.

  It was a trap!

  He moved the knife away and the moment he did so, he knew it was too late.

  There was a click.

  The trap exploded in a cloud of dust and earth which enveloped everything for three paces around, blinding and stunning him. He retreated several steps, trying to clea
r his mind, shaking his knife in an attempt to get rid of the dust-cloud.

  And his foot stepped on something soft. He heard another click.

  Oh no, another trap!

  There was another explosion, and his whole body became covered in frost. His arms and legs froze instantaneously.

  Ona gave a worried growl and tried to help him. She skirted the ravine and went to him.

  “No, Ona!”

  Too late. There was another ‘click’ and a trap activated under her legs. A huge net closed around her. She tried to get rid of it, but it was impossible.

  “Ona!” Lasgol tried to go and help her, but he could not move. His legs would not respond.

  Suddenly, at the bottom of the ravine, one of the fallen trees moved.

  Lasgol thought his eyes were playing tricks on him because of the traps. He tried to wipe them, but he could only move one arm, the one holding the knife. It was true: the tree had moved and was now standing up. Except that it was not a tree, but Annika camouflaged as one.

  The Elder was now beginning to climb with the help of a long staff. “Did you like my traps?”

  “I didn’t see them,” Lasgol said regretfully. He was still trying to move, without success.

  “Traps are my Specialty. It’s perfectly normal if you didn’t detect them. Don’t feel bad about it.”

  She finished her climb and came to stand three paces in front of him. “The ice trap is one of my favorites,” she said, and then looked at Ona. “Don’t worry, that trap won’t harm her, it’ll just keep her imprisoned.”

  Lasgol put all his strength into an attempt to free himself, and finally managed to move one leg. Annika saw this and attacked. Her staff swung toward his head in a circular motion. He threw himself to one side, although his legs were not responding well and neither were his arms. Stretched out on the ground, he managed to reach for his axe.

  The Elder stood above him ready for the kill. She raised the staff and let it fall toward his torso. But he rolled to one side, and it hit the ground where he had been a bare moment before.

  “You thought the trap was at the bottom of the ravine, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Lasgol said as he rolled over once again, trying to get away from the attack.

  “If anyone else had prepared the ambush, that’s where it would have been. But I was the one who prepared it, and I like to set my traps where they’re least expected. I had a feeling that you’d think that, so I set them up here and hid down there instead of the other way around.”

  Lasgol managed to get on to one knee. He could not believe that Annika was winning so easily. Of all the Elders she was supposed to be the least well-versed in fighting. Probably she was as good as the others.

  She launched a blow to his head.

  He blocked it with his axe and knife and felt the impact painfully in his arms. He managed to get to his feet and felt that he was beginning to get back the use of his legs. Annika aimed for his stomach with a direct blow with the tip of her staff. He turned and deflected the attack with his axe. He had more feeling in his arms and legs now, and he had to gain time until they recovered completely. He took several steps backwards, trying to get away.

  “You won’t be able to escape.”

  Lasgol realized his mistake. The boot of the foot he was leading with stepped on something soft, and he heard a click.

  Another trap!

  He hurled himself forward. There was an explosion, together with a discharge, behind him. One of the electrical arcs went up his leg. He fell, and lay there with his leg convulsing uncontrollably.

  “There are traps all around the edge,” Annika said. “You can’t run away or get away from me.” She was on her way to his side, to finish the fight.

  Lasgol tried to stand up, but his leg buckled under him. Annika was about to finish him off, and if she did so, his dream of becoming a Ranger Specialist would die there. He drew strength from his rage and began to crawl across the ground.

  “Resisting to the bitter end?”

  He crawled on. Annika came after him and moved to finish him off with a sharp blow to his back. The staff came down toward his back, hard. He turned over and blocked it with knife and axe. It was a massive impact, and he almost lost his weapons, but he resisted. Annika raised her staff to hit him again, and he used one of the tricks Viggo had taught him. He launched a circular kick from the ground with his good leg, at ankle level. He hit her with all the strength his hips were able to produce. Annika’s legs rose and the Elder fell on her back. Lasgol did not waste an instant and went on crawling away.

  “Good blow. But it won’t save you.” She had got to her feet and was coming after him.

  Lasgol reached the point he had started from. Annika followed him and raised her arms to deliver the final blow. He turned like lightning, and her eyes opened wide as saucers. He had got his short bow back, with an arrow ready nocked. She launched the blow, and he released. The arrow hit her in the stomach, but at the same moment the staff hit the bow and disarmed him.

  Annika saw the mark on her torso and stopped short. She did not strike out again. She nodded.

  “Well done. Keep going.”

  Chapter 48

  Lasgol breathed out heavily in relief. It had been a close shave! He stayed lying there with his arms outstretched, looking up at the sky. He could not get up; he was shattered. He waited for a while to recover, then slowly got to his feet and picked up his weapons. The bow had taken a hard hit but luckily had not snapped, so that he could still use it. He went to free Ona, who was moaning for help. He had a hard time getting her out of the net, but once free, she leapt into the air several times and ran around, happy to have her freedom back.

  “Ona. Good girl,” he said with a smile.

  Once they had both recovered, he searched for the trail on the other side of the ravine, avoiding the traps Annika had set and hidden so skillfully. It took him a good while to dodge them and find the trail at last. He followed it with Ona at his side, both of them going warily, with all senses alert.

  They crossed a forest and came to a shallow river. Here the trail disappeared.

  “They’re making this difficult for us,” he commented to Ona.

  The panther chirped and looked at the other side of the river.

  “We’ll have to wade across,” he said. Ona protested.

  “I know you don’t like the water, but we’ve got no choice.”

  The panther looked backwards.

  “No, we can’t go back, we’ve got to go on.”

  Ona was not convinced at all, and went on looking back at the forest they had left behind.

  “Don’t be a scaredy-cat, we’ll start from there.” He indicated a point where they could clearly see the rocky river-bed.

  Ona protested again. Lasgol shook his head and prepared to cross, but Ona did not move from where she was. He got half-way across.

  “Ona. Here!” he called.

  But Ona’s heart was not in it. She was looking everywhere except where Lasgol was.

  “It’s just a little water. It won’t even come up to your head...” He reached the other side, but when he turned, he saw that she had not moved.

  “Ona. Here.” He tapped his thigh three times with two fingers. Ona looked at him, then reluctantly waded across the river and reached his side.

  “Ona, good girl.” He petted her. “See? It wasn’t so hard, just a little water.”

  Ona protested again and walked away from the river. He smiled and went after her.

  Finding the trail took them some time, because it had been very well hidden. Luckily tracking was something he was very good at, and with the knowledge he had acquired, plus his natural sense of smell, he was able to follow it very well until he lost it again in the midst of a dense, frozen forest.

  “How can it have vanished?” he asked Ona, who was looking in every direction with her ears stiff.

  The snow covered everything around them, but the trail had vanished. Someone had h
idden it. Judging by the trail of feminine footprints, and since he had defeated Annika, he knew that he was up against Engla, and this made him distinctly nervous. He took out the powder Master Gisli had given him to uncover hidden trails and spread it around, but to his utter disbelief, there was nothing. No trace of any trail appeared.

  “It’s impossible,” he said to Ona.

  There were not many options available, so he decided to send Ona tracking. Perhaps she might be able to find the trail he could not find himself.

  He pointed out the direction. “Ona. Track.”

  The panther chirped in acceptance and set off. She disappeared among the trees while he stayed there looking around, but there was only snow, enormous trees and frozen vegetation, with no soul in sight, either human or animal. He was surprised by this; surely he ought to be able to perceive some animal, at least a few birds. He listened even more closely, but there was nothing: no birdsong, no flutter of wings, not a single twitter, nothing. He looked up into the trees above him and nearly had a heart attack.

  As if she were a gigantic white spider, Engla was dropping down on him.

  He tried to raise his bow and release, but it was too late. Engla hit the bow with her long knives and the weapon flew out of his hands. The Elder fell on top of him, and he leapt sideways in an attempt to avoid her. He did not entirely succeed, and took the impact in his ribs as he was pushed to one side. He got to his feet and looked at his side for the marks of the knives.

  “Don’t worry, I hit you with my feet,” Engla said. She was dressed completely in white, her Ranger scarf included. Her knives too were white. She looked like a phantom of the snow.

  Lasgol drew his knife and axe.

  “Time for a dance of death,” she said.