The Iron Hills keep my interest at first, but after a second day’s walk, it becomes boring, seeing the same scenery and nothing else. At least I’m dry today. Yesterday I spent the whole day wet after crossing the southern bend of the Red River. My skin still smells like iron. It occurs to me that traveling with adventurers is either endless walking and mild discomfort or things trying to kill us.
Maybe boring is better.
Maybe I should have stayed in Northend.
I remind myself I’m doing this as much for Mieklo as myself. Besides, there was nothing left for us in Northend.
Mikelo likes the Iron Hills. He’s gotten bold enough to leave my shoulder and explore. It makes me nervous, with all of the monsters we encountered so far, but I can feel the xichu’s excitement as he scampers over rocks of iron and sniffs the air and nibbles the red grasses.
“Lo, I keep meaning to give you this,” Rent says from beside me, drawing me from my thoughts. He fishes something from his shoulder bag and hands it to me.
It’s a book. Well, a tome of blank pages, nothing fancy, leatherbound with no embellishments, but full of possibility.
As he hands me a few nubs of charcoal, he shrugs. “I figure you must be missing the library, and this way you can record your travels.”
I’m speechless. No one has ever given me a gift before, and such a thoughtful one.
“I know it’s not much.”
“I love it,” I blurt, worried he thinks I don’t appreciate it. I hug it to my chest. Its presence and scent alone are comforting. “Thank you.”
Rent smiles and goes back to his book.
Left to my thoughts once more, I realize that I can’t feel Mieklo.
I look to my left, where he’d been moments before, happily climbing rocks, but I see no sign of him. It’s only without his emotions at the edge of my consciousness that I realize how used to them I’ve become. His joy while eating, his contentment afterwards, his pleasant dreams, his peace at being close to me.
But I don’t feel any of that.
“Mieklo?” I call, my voice quiet as my chest fills with heavy dread.
“He was right over there.” Rent points, but drops his hand back to his book. There’s no movement except the waving red grass. No xichu. “Hmm, I don’t see him.”
“Me either.”
“Hold up, Jilli,” Rent says, louder so she can hear him. “Mieklo’s not with us.”
“The mouse? I wouldn’t let him roam too far here. There’s plenty of things wandering the hills bigger than him, and hungry.” Jilli brings Gnuf to a stop, and he wastes no time settling for a patch of red grass to munch on.
I’ve been thinking the same thing. Blood is thudding in my ears, muffling Rent’s next words.
“Why don’t we take a break, and I’ll help you look for him.”
I nod, unable to reply. My panic is so cold it makes me shiver. I follow Rent as he heads off in the direction we last saw Mieklo. Trembling fingers place the book in my shoulder bag, and I see several sheafs of parchment within. I tear off a few small pieces and hope they’ll be enough to coax Mieklo back.
“Mieklo?” I call, questioning the quiet hills, disturbing its peace with my shaky voice.
A spike of panic in my head splits my attention. “Mieklo!” I shout into the serene breeze.
The xichu tears out of the grass, eyes wide, tail high. Angry chittering follows him, but I don’t see what makes it. He runs up my leg and shoulder. He clings to my neck, his tiny heart hammering against my skin.
“Oh, look! We found the rat!” Hax barely looks up from a chunk of marracht meat he’s eating to point at us. I swear he’s been eating all day.
“You weren’t even looking,” Blaize says. “You were too busy eating.”
“I can’t help it. It’s so good. Totally worth the money.”
“You didn’t pay anything for it.”
Hax paused, swallowed. “Don’t pester me with details.”
Jilli turns back to us. “Good. Let’s be on our way then. I’d like to make it to Masebe before dark, but we have to cross the river once more.”
I’m barely listening. I have my face buried in Mieklo’s fur. Rent is still standing beside me.
He puts his hand on my shoulder, and it’s comforting. “It’s okay, Lo. He’s safe.”
The nickname doesn’t bother me as much now. I like hearing Rent say it. He always says it like a friend. I don’t know how to put the feeling into words, though. So I smile awkwardly and nod.
Mieklo sniffs out the parchment in my hand and steals it. He wiggles away from my face so he can turn away to eat it.
That’s how I know he’s okay.
The horizon we walk towards is just beginning to fade to orange and pink when we reach the river. We scare off a large lizard drinking there. It hisses, and it unfurls a collar that shakes with its agitation. Jilli steps in front of Gnuf and shields her face with one arm, but the lizard loses its bravado, folding up and skittering away.
“Blaize, keep a lookout,” Jilli says. “Everyone else, take a couple packs and carry them over. Gods forbid if any of Hax’s bug meat should get wet.”
“I appreciate that,” Hax replies. At some point in the day, he finally stopped eating. I don’t know how he can walk with so much in his stomach. He takes two packs that are so full of food, I can see a few leg segments sticking out.
I would probably enjoy it more if I didn’t know where the meat came from. The taste is pleasant enough, kind of like chicken.
I carry one pack and my shoulder bag high over my head, and Mieklo decides to perch on top of them. “You keep a lookout too,” I tell him.
He chitters in response.
I follow Rent, and though he’s nearly a head taller than me and I don’t know how deep the river runs, watching him wade through helps me gauge before I’m all the way in. The rusty red water comes up to his chest, much higher than when we crossed the southern bend. So I’m prepared when it’s tickling my chin. My feet slide along slimy rocks I can’t see. They slip a few times, but I’m able to catch myself. I get a mouthful of thick red water near the center of the river, and the sharp iron taste lingers on my tongue after I spit it out.
Rent’s nearly to the shore when Blaize appears there. Somehow, she looks like she crossed without getting wet. She’s so mysterious. “There’s a dead deer in the grass of that outcropping.” She points north to a patch of thick red grass and iron rocks. “It’s fresh. We may have interrupted something.”
Rent tries to walk faster, but the river and his robe drag at him. I don’t dare go any faster until the water is at least down to my chest. I’m still tilting my chin up to avoid another mouthful.
Hax is behind me, tall like his brother and sure of foot, but his lip is curled and his brow is furrowed. His red robe is almost black from his chest down with the rusty water that soaks him. His arms shake from the weight of the packs and from holding them above his head.
I think Jilli gave me the lightest pack. At least it’s not full of marracht parts.
The second half of the trip, from the middle of the river to shore, seems to take forever. All I can do is keep my elbows locked above my head and keep sliding forward, one foot at a time.
Rent lays down the two packs he carries in the grass and turns back to me, offering a hand. I can’t take it with my hands full, but he manages to get a hold of me to help pull me out of the last few feet of water by my soaked clothes. I’m panting, and I collapse beside the pack I throw down.
Mieklo is beside me, then he’s not.
I lose my breath, then I see him sniffing further up the riverbank. I lose it again when I realize that’s where Blaize saw the dead deer. I’m on my feet and rushing over to him before I can ponder the intelligence of the action.
I scoop Mieklo into my arms. “You can’t run off. Things here will eat you.” I try to emphasize it so he understands.
He appears chastised.
Then he squeaks, and I follow his gaze to see a feline face staring back at us from the tall grass. Its face is black slashed with orange, like a tiger, but in reverse, with orange cat eyes. Among its sharp teeth, two tusks stick out the sides of its mouth, and two long curling horns spiral up from its head. It comes forward two steps, revealing two large flat paws with razor sharp claws. The cat’s lips curl back into a low snarl.
My heart flutters and my limbs go rigid.
I won’t let it hurt Mieklo. He clings to me, perhaps sharing my thoughts.
Then it occurs to me that I’m a more appropriately sized target for a giant cat. It’s not eyeing the xichu. It’s eyeing me.
Before I can think of running, the cat leaps at me.
Weight strikes me, but it's from the side. Blaize smells like pine needles and honeysuckle. She tucks left before we hit the ground, and she absorbs our fall into a roll instead of landing on top of me. We come to a stop as the giant cat sails past our feet.
Blaize sets me up. “You here, Lo?”
I shake my head to clear it and look up at her. “I’m here.” Mieklo chitters. “Mieklo’s here too.”
“Good. Stay here, out of the way. We’ll handle the knuei.” Then she’s gone. She doesn’t just move fast. She disappears right before my eyes.
Stay. Because I don’t have magic or a weapon. Stay. Because they have to protect me.
Rent casts a bubble of protection around Blaize as she reappears just the other side of the knuei, running the opposite way from me, trying to draw its attention. Hax is flinging sharp icicles at it, but the knuei knocks away or dodges them. Rent flashes searing light at the giant cat, but that enrages it more.
It screams and lunges at Rent. He can’t react fast enough, halfway through another prayer, and the knuei knocks him down, tearing a row of claw marks across his thigh. It doesn’t have time for a killing strike as Hax pelts it with ice. A few stick into its striped black hide, but it hardly flinches as it snarls at Hax.
I crawl over to Rent, but all I can do is hover, my hands unsure, no solutions coming to mind as I watch blood soak the tattered remnants of his robe and the breeches beneath. I can see the angry red tears across his leg, the muscles twitching and exposed.
It makes me lightheaded.
Rent mumbles a stuttering prayer, but it dissolves on his lips. He hisses a curse. A crackle of static ripples over the grass beneath us. It makes my hair stand on end. “Find me. Something. To press. On the wound. Cloth. Clothes. Something.” His words are hitched, but I take his meaning. I tear my eyes away from the wound and run to the closest pack, several feet away.
It’s also farther from the knuei.
The cat’s orange stripes begin to pulse like the lights of Gallaed. Hax’s ice daggers melt, dripping pink watered-down blood.
One of Blaize’s knives flies through the air at the knuei’s face, but it knocks the blade away with a paw.
We need Jilli, but she’s still trying to coax Gnuf to shore. He wants to bolt the other way.
“Ignore my ice daggers, will you?” Hax growls. The knuei locks its attention on Hax as he gestures wildly, waving his arms erratically. I don’t know if it’s a spell, but nothing comes from his hands.
Then Hax begins to grow and change. His dark eyes turn yellow and savage, his face grows into a muzzle, and fangs lengthen in his mouth. He ripples black with forming scales. Hax flaps his wings, nearly flattening us all, and roars fire.
The knuei retreats a step.
“A dragon, really?” Blaize asks as she reminds the cat she’s still a threat with her knives, feinting at its face. It hisses at her and swipes its head, threatening with its tusks, but taking another step backward. “Aren’t they a little overdone? Every bard’s tale has a dragon these days.”
“It was the best I could think of on such short notice. I’m sorry you don’t approve.” It’s Hax’s voice coming out of the reptile’s lips, but my brain has trouble connecting the two.
Hax stomps one large dragon foot, then the other. “Back off, cat, or I’ll barbecue you.” He breathes fire again, straight up into the air.
The knuei mewls, caught between whether to attack or run away. It slinks low to the ground, its ears flattening against its head.
But it hasn’t given up yet. The knuei swipes a paw at Hax, following with a slice of its tusks. Somehow they miss.
“I warned you.” Hax, the black dragon, draws a deep breath and exhales fire. It’s hot, blinding white. It looks more like the fire I’ve seen Rent cast.
The knuei screams and runs before more than its paws and tail can get singed.
Jilli comes up to us. She’s panting after an intense battle with her ummuth in the river. “Did I miss it?”
Gnuf brays a reply, bold as brass now that the knuei is gone.
The dragon blinks out of existence, and Hax is standing hunched over with his hands on his knees, drawing deep breaths. “We’ll save the next one for you.” Then he turns to Blaize. “See? That cliche dragon saved your arse.”
“I had that cat lined up for a kill before you scared it off.” The elf sheaths both of her knives.
As I return to Rent, I hear a crackle sound, louder than before. “What’s that noise?”
“Sounds like… an electrical storm approaching,” Blaize says.
“Or a short-circuiting brass-bot,” Hax adds, tilting his head to listen.
Whatever it is, the crackle around us grows, like a storm brewing beneath our feet.
~ * ~
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