The road north out of Northend is quieter than I expect. For much of the first day, we don’t see any other travelers. Around midday, Blaize returns to us, appearing from nowhere beside Jilli. I don’t even know she’s there until she starts talking.
“A group. Moving south. Looks like merchants with a handful of mercs.” Blaize keeps her hood up as she speaks, but I can see the hints of her long, delicate ears. She studies Jilli with two different colored eyes, one green, one gray, as she waits for a reply.
They look odd standing together, Jilli tall and muscular, Blaize short and slight.
The large barbarian woman nods. “Sounds safe enough, but stay hidden while we pass them. At least one of us will get the drop on them if they dare to attack us.”
Blaize doesn’t reply, she just fades away before my eyes. Then her voice drifts back. “Don’t let Hax start anything.”
“Me?” Hax says, incredulous. “Why am I always the one you assume the worst of?”
“Because you’re usually the one making trouble for the rest of us.” Jilli says.
“I’m not the one who brought the stray puppy along,” he says, throwing a look at his brother, Rent.
I bristle, knowing who he refers to, but I don’t say anything. I still don’t know these people, even if they’re taking Mieklo and I where we need to go. The xichu on my shoulder senses my frustration and chitters softly, his tiny paws stroking a lock of my hair.
Rent looks up from the book he reads as he walks. “She’s causing less trouble than you.”
“Well, that’s not saying much,” Jilli says, but she grins at me. “But Lo has been quiet. You doing alright?”
I nod. I don’t correct her. I don’t like the nickname they’ve all taken to calling me. Lo sounds more like a direction than a name. I prefer my full name, Lola-Grace, but they all have shortened names, like full names take too much time. Shortened from what I’ve still not discovered.
I don’t know what to think of Jilli. She didn’t want me to come, but she seems determined to make small talk. Maybe she’s just being friendly. I don’t know. I didn't have many friends at the library. It was just work, eat, sleep, repeat, and most days I didn’t see another person in the stacks. There were more stacks than people. They numbered in the thousands, with just a handful of librarians to manage them and a couple dozen scribes and assistant scribes under them.
Mieklo wraps himself in my hair. It’s just long enough to cover him. I can sense he’s content.
Suddenly it hits me. I sensed his emotions.
Or did I? I can tell just by looking at him that he’s more content than he had been before we left Northend. So maybe I didn’t really sense it. Maybe I just see it rather than feel it, but I’m feeling content as well despite my reservations about our new company.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I can’t help hoping we’ll grow a connection like Madam Maeyv had mentioned.
I reach up and stroke Mieklo’s soft fur. He presses his head up into my hand.
“Okay, look sharp, folks. There’s the merchant caravan. Be polite but not too friendly,” Jilli says. The others all look to her as their leader, and I understand why. She always knows just what to do.
Except with me.
Hax casts a spell, and I hold my breath. I expect to see a fireball fly from his hands and incinerate the approaching merchant caravan. Instead, a white ball appears in his hands, a snowball. Then two more join it. He casually tosses them into the air and juggles them in a tight circle.
My eyes are riveted to it.
Apparently, it catches the attention of several from the merchant caravan as well. A smattering of clapping breaks out, until one of the armored mercenaries silences them with a sharp gesture.
”Greetings, fellow travelers,” the merc says as they come up beside us. The horses and wagons behind her come to a stop. “We’re coming from Masebe. Watch yourselves in the Iron Hills. The creatures there are more hungry and aggressive than usual. I lost two of my soldiers to a knuei there.”
I know the name. A knuei is a horned great cat, but I had read they stayed in forests, where their mostly black hides would camouflage them best.
Jilli gestures politely to the merc. “We’re sorry to hear that. We just passed through Northend. They were attacked by erebus the day before last. Much of the city’s western district fell, including the library. So you’re likely to find more in need than in want.”
“Erebus?” The merc spits the name from his mouth. “Filthy demons. Gods take them. Roln fell to them just a month ago. I’ve never heard of them so active. Thank you for the warning. We’ll be on our guard.”
“Safe travels.” Jilli tugs on Gnuf’s reins, and the stoic ummuth brays and starts forward again.
The merchant caravan has half a dozen wagons and more mercs at the end of the train. Good thing no one started any trouble. We would have been sorely outnumbered, and I only have a small dagger that I would have no idea how to use against another person. Rent gave it to me this morning before we left. He showed me how to hold it.
So maybe I won’t cut myself if I am forced to use it.
It’s only been half a day, but I find myself jealous that everyone in the merchant caravan rides a horse or on a wagon. My feet are killing me. I’m just a scribe. I’m not used to being on my feet this much. But I can’t complain. Rent promised me food and protection, and he even bought some blank parchment for Mieklo.
The whole merchant caravan disappears around the closest bend in the road behind us before I can focus on the road in front of us again, my hand on the small dagger’s hilt.
A cloud passes over the sun above us, and I look up from the vast shadow it casts. It’s not just one cloud, it’s a storm blowing in. Dark gray blankets the entire sky above us as I watch, and I can see electricity pulsing on its undersides. The storm reaches us minutes later, pouring on our heads and surrounding us with booms of thunder that follow close on the heels of each flash of lightning.
“We need to take cover!” Jilli shouts over the storm. Her hair is already plastered to her head, flattened by the driving rain.
A flash of lightning brightens the sky in answer, a giant fork of white striking a lone tree to our west and making it explode into splinters and embers.
Gnuf brays, and Jilli redirects him off the road and into the dark forest to our east.
“Not the Agora Glade!” Rent shouts at her, standing firm in the road.
A crash shakes the ground, lightning striking again nearby.
“No time to argue, brother. Into the trees!” Hax pulls at his brother’s arm.
Rent follows reluctantly.
I pull Mieklo into my arms, shielding him from the worst of the rain with my body as I run for cover close on Rent’s heels.
The trees shield us from most of the rain, but we’re all already soaked through. The barrier of branches quiets the storm, so Jilli doesn’t have to shout her next words.
“I don’t see that we have any choice but to wait this out here. Hax, set up camp. Rent, see if you can scrounge up any dry wood for a fire. Where’s Blaize?”
“Here.” She appears from behind a tree. I don’t know if she was invisible or just hidden in the shadows. She snaps her hood taunt over her brow to shake loose some of the rain, then she throws it back and shakes out her hair, golden with a single lock of silver that she tucks behind one long elven ear.
“Keep watch while we set up camp,” Jilli tells her.
The slight rogue nods and disappears.
“Lo, help me with Gnuf’s packs. I want to get him dried off.”
I set down Mieklo and go to them. Gnuf smells like a giant wet dog. It’s overpowering. I agree with getting him dry. The packs come off smelling of the same musty musk.
My arms are sore along with the rest of me by the time we remove all the packs. They’re laid out on the ground not touching one another so they can dry. I collapse onto the ground near the fire Rent has going. Mieklo joins me, but he’s mostly dry and doesn’t reek of wet ummuth. So he keeps his distance. I guess I don’t blame him.
Somehow, the rain isn’t hitting me anymore, and it doesn’t touch the fire. I look up and see why. A barrier of ice is stretched across the leafy canopy above us. I can still hear the rain pattering against it.
“It’s a little early to stop for the day, but we can’t continue through this storm. Too dangerous,” Blaize says as she appears in the middle of camp, holding her hands out to the flames of the fire and warming herself.
Rent is seated with his legs crossed, but he looks anything but relaxed. His eyes make a constant circuit of the trees surrounding us.
“Why didn’t you want to come into the forest?” I ask.
“The Agora Glade has an unpleasant reputation,” he replies, choosing his words carefully.
“Worse than erebus?”
“No, there are few things worse than demons, but still not anything I want to run across. I’ve heard tales.” He doesn’t elaborate.
Unsure what I’m looking for, I find myself scanning the trees too. It doesn’t last, though. We’ve only traveled for half of the day, but my eyelids grow heavy. I stretch out on the ground, resting my head on my arms for a pillow.
A hand touches my shoulder, waking me from a sleep I didn’t know I’d fallen into. “Here, have something to eat.” Jilli puts a metal plate in my hand, jerky stew and a piece of hardtack. The stew is so thick it almost can’t be called stew. I eat it mechanically, the stew too salty and the hardtack too flavorless. They complement one another, but it doesn’t make it more palatable.
It’s certainly not the meals we’d get at the library, but it’s food and my stomach appreciates it.
Jilli watches me over her plate, like she’s getting ready to say something. Minutes pass, and she doesn’t. I grow nervous under her heavy scrutiny, but I don’t know what to say.
“Lo told us her story last night,” Jilli says finally. “Maybe we should each tell our own. I can start.”
I perk up. I’m eager to learn more about the barbarian woman and where she’s from.
Blaize joins us. It’s the first time I’ve seen her sit. She doesn’t take any stew. but she stays close to Jilli. I wonder if her not eating is an elf thing, but then she pulls out a jar of honey. She eats it with a spoon as Jilli begins.
“I’m from the great barbarian city of Lurcona,” Jilli begins. “It sits on the banks of the Frost Flow in the cold tundra of the World’s End glacier. Our winters last eleven months. We get only one month where the snow almost melts. My people have adapted to the cold. We stay active, even though we don’t migrate from one side of the glacier to the other anymore. Once we set down roots in Lurcona, most of the barbarians gave up their wandering ways.”
Mieklo perks up at the story. His nose twitches as Jilli continues.
“But sometimes, a child is infected with the wanderlust, and there’s nothing to be done about it except to let them go.” Jilli pauses and grins. “My parents tried to hold onto me for as long as they could, but finally, when I was an adult, they let me head out on my journey.
“Only Gnuf came with me.”
The ummuth lays on the ground near to her, his thick legs tucked underneath him. Jilli scratches behind his floppy ears, and his expression melts, his tongue lolls out of his mouth.
“Blaize was the first person who dared to approach me when I made it south.”
“I suppose you could put it that way,” Blaize replies, absently braiding and combing out her silver lock of hair as she listens. “Your purse was too fat to ignore.”
“A fat purse also means a heavy weight at my side,” Jilli says. “I felt the change as soon as you lifted it.”
“Then you lifted me.” Blaize snickers softly.
“Right off the ground. You only weigh eighty pounds soaking wet.” Jilli stands and brings Blaize up with her. She crushes the little rogue against her in a passionate kiss until I blush and avert my eyes.
Where my eyes land, at the edge of the fire’s light where the shadows of the trees fade to black, is a giant bug. Its large wings are a soft black. It’s gone before I can get a good look, though.
“What is it, Lo?” Jilli asks, setting Blaize down and focusing on me.
“Nothing. I just thought I saw something.”
Rent’s attention is drawn to me. “What do you think you saw?”
“Just a bug. A moth maybe. But a big one. With black wings.”
”Perhaps,” he says, looking where I had been a moment before. Nothing’s there now.
I turn back toward the fire, and I am surprised to see a tiny person with black moth wings fluttering in the center of our camp. Their skin is a cool gray, their eyes black with white pupils.
The others see it too.
“Good evening!” it says in a tiny, friendly voice. It hardly seems threatening. In fact, I feel quite at ease now that I know I did see something.
The fact that none of the others draw weapons or magic relaxes me further.
“We’re so happy you’ve come. We hardly ever get visitors. You really must stay for dinner.”
Dinner sounds pleasant.
My plate is forgotten beside me.
“Come, come! I’ll show you the way.” The fairy-person flutters up and back and around, moving toward the direction I first saw them. I can’t remember if that’s the direction of the road or not.
Hax has risen, and he follows the tiny winged person.
Rent grabs his sleeve. “No, brother.”
Hax pulls away, no answering. He walks to the edge of the firelight and stops but only for a moment. When the fairy-person beckons, he enters the shadowed trees.
I don’t realize I’m up and moving until the darkness is staring me in the face. I’m on the border of light and dark, teetering. Then I’m in the air.
“Not so fast, little one,” Jilli says as she spins me back toward the fire.
The bright flickering light anchors me, and I blink in confusion.
“Don’t let the agora lure you,” Jilli says.
“What about Hax?” I ask, craning my neck around Jilli’s huge arm.
“It would serve the lout right if we left him to them,” Blaize grumbles.
“I should think not!” Rent retorts.
”Of course we won’t leave him!” Jilli answers. “Stay here with Lo. I’ll go after him.”
“Not while my brother’s out there,” Rent growls, his fists clenched at his sides. He says a prayer, and his hand begins to glow white, but it’s swallowed up with the rest of him when he enters the trees.
“Fine. Blaize, please?” Jilli asks.
The rogue throws her hood up, hiding her eyes and shadowing her face, before she disappears.
“Fine! Why do I even bother?” Jilli pulls out her zweihander and runs toward the black between the trees, where Hax then Rent disappeared moments before. “Lo, stay here!” She meets my gaze for just a moment and points at the ground. Then she vanishes too.
I don’t dare argue, but I do draw my small dagger. I hold it with both hands to be sure I don’t drop it. Mieklo grips my pant leg in his tiny paws.
I strain to listen since I can’t see anything. The campfire flickers, casting my shadow long in the direction the others went.
They left me. What if they don’t come back? I’m in the middle of the wilderness, in the middle of a dark forest. I can’t leave because the storm still rages above the trees, and where would I go? Back to Northend?
I move closer to Gnuf on the far side of the fire. He’s still damp, but I press up against him anyway. His large presence gives me some comfort. Mieklo squeaks. He’s here for me too. I smile at them both, but it’s a thin smile.
I keep my worthless dagger aimed at the trees, hoping the others return soon.
But it’s not any of my four new companions who I see first.
A soft flutter of wings makes me turn. An agora hovers near my left shoulder, and I jump when I see it, but my anxiety melts away to comfortable ease as they speak.
“Your friends want you to join us, and so do we, because we’re so happy you’re here.”
“No, they told me to wait,” I say, confused.
“Yes, but then they saw what we’re having for dinner, and you must be a part of it.”
Part of me argues, but the part that controls my limbs makes me rise. Mieklo chitters and squeaks from the ground, but his protests are far away. I feel calm and like I can trust the agora.
“Come, I’ll take you to your friends,” they say. It sounds reasonable. Their tiny hands wrap around one of my fingers and pull me forward.
I don’t resist.
A part of me still argues, but it’s quiet, barely a whisper in my head, whereas the agora’s words fill my mind.
Come, come come.
I flinch away from them. Their voice, many voices, are in my head. I try to resist, but the words further soothe me.
We enter the trees, and it’s not as dark as I thought. The greenish-yellow of lightning bugs fills the forest, and they dance in the air with the agora. There are dozens of them now. Each one is telling me to follow.
Come, come, come. Join us for dinner.
I realize none of the others are here, but my mind is a fog, and I can’t bring myself to rise to panic. I feel dulled, and the artificial ease is like an overly sweet scent clouding my thoughts.
The agora who led me here lets go of my finger. They smile at me, and I see dark lips lined with sharp teeth. The last part of my resistance bangs against my insides, trying to get out. I know I need to get away, but my legs won’t obey, they won’t turn and run.
“We’re so glad you’re here,” the agora says, and they show me a mouthful of growing, jagged teeth. Saliva shines off them in the flickering greenish light of the lightning bugs.
A sharp pain shoots through my hand, and I jerk away, tucking it close to my body. An agora comes with it. I try to shake them off, but they grip their tiny hands tighter. They look up, and I see my blood dripping down their face.
The fog dissipates. My mind clears, but now there are dozens of the agora surrounding me. Two more grab hold of my arms and bite down.
I make a hysterical noise that’s not a shout.
Three more latch on. Another grabs hold of my leg. I try to shake them away, but they’re hands dig into me like their teeth.
I realize too late that I’ve let myself be lured.
A crash in the trees brings my attention around, and I picture one giant agora coming to eat me. Instead, Jilli explodes into the lightning bug clearing, scattering bugs and agora alike. She carries Hax limp under one arm, and she scoops me up in the other.
I swat at the agora still clinging to me, and they fall away with angry hisses.
Blaize appears and knocks away a few more.
“What happened to staying in the camp?” Jilli asks.
I babble the beginnings of an excuse.
We burst from the trees back onto the road, and the storm has settled to a heavy drizzle. She sets me down, looking me over, her expression severe with water dripping down her furrowed brow. “We’ll have to work on you listening better if you’re going to be traveling with us,” Jilli says.
“You mean better than Hax?” Blaize asks, looking at the man limp in the barbarian woman’s left arm.
“Yeah, better than him.”
~ * ~
If you’d like to continue this journey, enter your email below to receive future posts directly to your inbox.
If you enjoyed this post, please share it.