“You better be careful,” Kira said, holding
back tears. Then she looked at Altaria. “That goes for both of
you.”
Altaria nodded. “We will.”
Octavion opened his arms toward Altaria. “How
do you want to do this, sister?”
“Just like when we were children.” She walked
around to his back. As he bent his knees to lower himself, she
wrapped her arms around his neck, lacing her fingers together in
front. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace without water, cliffs or trees,”
he teased.
“Ah, the desert.”
With that, they closed their eyes and were
gone. Kira expected to see the blinding light or feel the rumbling
and shaking she’d experience when she’d leapt, but she only felt
the familiar eeriness for an instant before they completely
disappeared, leaving a puff of mist and her alone in the silence.
The hair on Kira’s arms pricked at her skin. She hugged herself,
scanned the clearing and went back to the cave where Toran was
waiting near the entrance.
The first thing Kira did was strap on her
dagger, the leather cuffs she found in the trunk and her healing
pouch. She sat her bow and quiver of arrows near the shelves so she
could grab them quickly, then took time to fill two vials for
Octavion. It wouldn’t hurt to have a spare.
When she’d finished, she decided to go
exploring. The heavy wool blanket that hung on the wall of the cave
piqued her curiosity. She took one of the candles Octavion had lit
earlier, poured some wax onto a small metal plate and pressed the
base of the candle into it to hold it in place.
She glanced behind her to make sure Toran
still guarded the door, pulled back the wool blanket and stepped
inside. The opening was wide, but low. She had to hunch over to
walk down a narrow rock corridor before it opened up into a small
room. Much smaller than the outer cave, the walls were rough and
jagged instead of smooth. As she stepped further into the space,
the flame of the candle brought the primitive furnishings into
view. To the right, a rustic cot rested against the wall. The
frame, crafted of hand hewn logs and sections of rope weaved from
one side to the other, supported the mattress of hides and
blankets.
At the back were more shelves—filled mostly
with books, their yellowed pages in much better condition than the
ones in the other room. Between the stacks were small wooden bowls
and containers as well as a ceramic cup filled with metal
instruments—most with sharp edges or wicked-looking blades. To the
left was a small desk, also made of logs, topped with a slab of
wood that had been polished smooth. Kira ventured a little closer,
pulled out a small stool from underneath the desk and sat. It felt
strange invading his privacy, but there was another part of her
that felt comfortable and at ease among his things.
Kira spun around on the bench to set the
metal plate on the desk. As she did, her elbow knocked a pile of
papers onto the dirt floor. She sighed, slid onto her knees and
gathered them into a neat stack, returning them to the desk—all
except one. A black leather bound book had been among them and now
lay open, a delicate ink sketch of a young girl’s face staring back
at her. Picking it up, Kira returned to the bench and laid the book
to rest on her lap. The sketch was of her.
She slowly turned the page to find yet
another sketch, this one of Toran. The words written beneath it
were a combination of letters and symbols. She flipped to another
page, and another, until one in particular caught her eye—a
detailed sketch of Kira sleeping in the shelter. She ran her finger
over the foreign words written beneath it.
Sleep well, my
love.
The meaning seeped into her mind as if someone had
whispered it into her ear.
How do I know that?
She tried to
decipher the other words on the page in the same manner, but
nothing came.
Kira closed the book, slid it under the pile
of papers and picked up the metal plate. The candle had burned
within an inch of going out, so she thought she’d better get back
to the main cave. She stood and took a few steps toward the
opening, but hesitated when the lid from a large wooden crate
caught her eye. She’d thought it was simply leaning against the
wall near the bookcase, but now that she saw it from a different
angle, she realized it hung from hinges and large metal bolts
drilled into the cave wall. She looked down at the sliver of candle
that remained and almost dismissed her curiosity, but then decided
to give in.
As she neared the door, she noticed sections
of animal fur skirting the edges, especially near the bottom. She
reached for the makeshift handle and untwisted the piece of rope
that wound around it, letting the door fall open a couple inches. A
burst of cold air escaped, chilling the room. Kira pulled back the
door and held the candle out in front of her. The opening seemed
much like the one leading into the small room, she had to duck her
head to get through. Once inside, she blinked hard to be sure of
what she saw.
For one thing, the little glow of light
coming from the candle was lost in the expanse. She could only see
darkness beyond ten or fifteen feet. And then there was the ice.
High above her head she could just make out the tips of frozen
stalactites. Water dripped down their lengths and trickled down the
side of the walls. She lowered the candle to the ground to also
find ice beneath her feet.
She took two small steps into the cave,
noticing a small stack of wooden crates off to one side. Her feet
slid carefully along the path as she neared them. She pulled open
the one closest to her to find it filled with fruit. Now she knew
his
magic
. He had his own little cooling system tucked
inside his lair.
After grabbing an apple off the top, Kira
replaced the lid and turned to exit the cave. Her sudden movement
not only caused a breeze to extinguish the flame, but her feet to
slip out from underneath her. She landed on her butt, sending her
apple flying into the abyss. It bounced once before finding
silence. Kira listened for it to hit again. Several seconds passed
before she heard a distant splash.
Now in complete darkness, she’d lost her
bearings. She felt the icy floor around her until she found a loose
piece of ice. She tossed it at her feet—but there was no sound. She
waited again, only to be horrified at the tiny echo coming back as
it hit its mark in the depths of what she could only imagine to be
a deep cavern.
Slowly, she leaned forward, brushing the
ground with her fingertips until she found the edge—under her
ankles. Panic set in as she imagined herself careening over the
rim. She scooted back to find one of the wooden crates, rolled over
onto her knees and crawled her way along the corridor that led to
the other room. She was never more grateful than when she felt the
warmth coming from the other side of the makeshift door. Still
feeling her way, she stood, wound the rope around the handle and
stumbled her way back out into the main cave.
Kira’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the
light as she scanned her surroundings. Toran was gone.
“Toran,” she whispered, careful not to alert
whatever may have pulled him away from his post. A muffled snarl
came from behind her, making her jump and her heart race. She
turned to find her guardian pushing the curtain aside with his
massive head and body. He stretched his back, wandered back to his
position in front of the opening and collapsed onto the ground.
Kira smiled. “You brat. You scared the crap
out of me.”
She’d had enough exploring for one day and
needed some fresh air. Even though Octavion warned her to stay
close to the cave, she didn’t see any reason why she couldn’t go
into the clearing for some warm sunlight. Besides, she was
thirsty.
“Come on, Toran,” she urged. He lazily stood,
as if annoyed at her request. She gave him a little rub behind the
ears. He purred as he nudged her hip, almost knocking her over.
“Careful, buddy.”
Kira grabbed her bow and quiver and followed
him out into the clearing. It was too warm for a fire, but she
spent a few minutes gathering kindling and larger branches to
prepare the pit for the night. Toran watched from a distance while
going through his familiar grooming routine.
She’d started removing the blankets in her
shelter to shake them out, when Toran stood. He let out a low
rumbling growl, exposing his teeth. Kira followed his line of
sight, but saw nothing.
“What is it boy?” She grabbed her quiver and
strapped it to her back, checking her dagger to make sure it was in
place. The sudden burning of the Crystor sent visions of Altaria
being wounded racing through her mind. She couldn’t sense where her
wounds were or how badly she’d been injured, but the fear that
raged through her melded with Kira’s emotions of anxiety and
confusion. Altaria was in trouble.
Altaria? What’s wrong? Where
are you?
Kira. I need help. Hurry!
Kira instantly knew where to find her. It was
as if a rope was tethered between them, drawing her in a straight
line to Altaria’s location. She wasn’t far.
I’m on my way. Are you okay?
No, bring your healing pack. Kira, hurry.
Octavion’s hurt.
Terror rushed through her veins. As Kira and
Toran ran through the trees, Kira felt Altaria’s panic and for the
first time since she received the Crystor, her increased senses
detected the metallic odor of blood. She could almost taste it on
her tongue, it was so strong. A few more seconds of dodging rocks
and tree limbs and they finally found Altaria collapsed next to
Octavion, who was unconscious. Blood was everywhere.
“What happened?” Kira threw her quiver and
bow to the ground and dropped to her knees beside them.
“We were . . . attacked. I didn’t think they
would find us that fast,” Altaria said, barely holding herself
upright.
Kira laid her hand on Octavion’s chest. His
heart thumped wild and erratic—his breathing forced and shallow.
Most of his wounds appeared to be superficial, which gave no
explanation for all the blood—until Altaria pulled her hand away
from the gaping wound in his thigh. Blood pulsed out, spilling onto
the ground.
“It hit an artery,” Altaria said. “He’s lost
too much blood. You have to do something.” Her voice quivered as
she spoke—the usual tough exterior replaced by fear.
Kira untied the leather strap that held the
dagger around her leg and removed it from the sheath. She wrapped
it around Octavion’s thigh just above the wound and tied it once.
She searched the ground until she found a small stick, placed it
over the piece of leather and tied it as tight as she could. She
twisted it several times, slowing the blood flow to the wound.
“This is deep, but I don’t think it hit an
artery. He’d be dead by now if it did.” Kira gave the leather strap
one more twist and instructed Altaria to hold it.
“How did you get here?” Kira asked.
“I had to bring us. I missed the clearing,
but . . . at least we were close.”
Kira pulled one of the metal vials out of her
pouch and handed it to Altaria. “Drink this. You need your
strength. I may need your help with this one.” Kira looked her up
and down with a quick glance. “Are you hurt?”
“I have some small cuts, but I’m all right.
See to him first.”
Octavion began thrashing around, making it
more difficult to hold onto the tourniquet. Kira pulled the second
vial out of her pouch and opened the lid. She supported his head
with her hand and poured the liquid past his lips. He swallowed
hard. It only took a few seconds for him to open his eyes.
“Altaria?”
“I’m here.” She leaned closer so he could see
her face.
He rolled toward her and tried to sit. “Help
me up.”
“Whoa. Not so fast.” Kira pushed him onto his
back. “You’re hurt pretty bad.”
“Nonsense.” He tried to sit again, but this
time the pain in his leg drew his attention to the massive amount
of blood soaking the dirt beneath him. “I am a fool. Why did I let
you talk me into this?” He lowered himself back to the ground.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. Do you think the
Gyllrue is necessary?” Kira reached into her pouch and pulled out
the container.
“It will help, yes,” Altaria said.
“No!” Octavion yelled, trying to grab at her
bag. Yellow invaded his eyes as his pupils flickered from black
orbs to the thin slits of a cat.
Kira pushed his hand away. “Stop it! If you
need this, you’re having it.”
He settled back to the ground, withdrew his
hand and closed his eyes. “Then be quick about it.”
Kira opened the container, releasing the
noxious fumes into the air, then let one tiny drop land square on
his tongue. He made a face.
Pay back, my friend
.
Altaria gave her a crooked grin and
winked.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Kira pulled her dagger
from its sheath, laying the blade across the palm of her hand.
Altaria gasped and grabbed Kira’s arm as a
deep throaty growl escaped Octavion’s chest. “You can’t do
that—look at him. He’s already changing from the pain. If he caught
a whiff of your blood he wouldn’t be able to control himself.”
“But it’s the only way. I can’t heal a wound
like this without my blood.”
Octavion tried to sit again. This time he
scooted himself back and leaned against a tree. “She is right,
Kira. It’s too dangerous. Do the best you can without it.”
Kira didn’t like it, but it seemed she had
little choice. Placing her hand on his wound, she tried to see it
healed, but even with the pressure of the tourniquet the blood
flowed too fast. She pulled her hand away and studied their
expressions.