Fire Study (8 page)

we had reached our destination. The day had turned into night while we had traveled

through the cave.

From the bats, I knew water flowed along the floor of the exit and dropped down

about twenty feet to the jungle. The waterfall splashed onto a tumble of rocks.

The others followed me to the edge of the stream. We doused the torches and

waited for our eyes to adjust to the weak moonlight. I scanned the jungle below with

my magic, searching for signs of an ambush and for tree leopards. Necklace snakes

were also a danger to us, but the only life I touched were small creatures scurrying

through the underbrush.

“Prepare to get wet,” I said before wading into the cold knee-deep water.

My boots filled immediately as I sloshed to the edge. There were plenty of rocks

below to climb on, but they were either under the water or wet. I eased off my

backpack and threw it down, aiming for a dry spot on the rocky bank.

“Be careful,” I instructed.

I turned around and crouched, leaning into the force of the water. Keeping my

face above the stream, I stuck my feet over the edge and felt for a foothold. By the

time I reached the bottom, my clothes were soaked. At least the water had washed

away the foul-smelling dung.

Once everyone climbed down, we stood dripping and shivering on the bank.

“Now what?” Leif asked.

“It’s too dark to see trail signs,” Marrok said. “Unless we make more torches.”

I looked at our ragtag group. I had a dry change of clothes in my backpack, but

Tauno and Moon Man had nothing with them. The bank was big enough for a fire.

“We need to dry off and get some rest.”

“You need to die,” a loud voice said from the jungle.

ARROWS RAINED DOWN. Tauno cried out as one pierced his shoulder.

“Find cover,” Marrok ordered. An arrow jutted from his thigh.

We scrambled for the underbrush. Moon Man dragged Tauno with him. Marrok

fell. An arrow whizzed by my ear and thudded into a tree trunk. Another slammed

into my backpack before I dived under a bush.

I scanned the treetops with my magic, but couldn’t sense anyone.

“Null shield,” Moon Man shouted. “No magic.”

Marrok lay in the open, unmoving. Arrows continued to fly, but they missed him.

He stared at the sky.

“Curare!” I yelled. “The arrows are laced with Curare.”

The ambushers wanted to paralyze us, not kill us. At least not yet. The memory

of being completely helpless from the drug washed over me. Alea Daviian had

wanted revenge for her brother’s death, so she had pricked me with Curare and

carted me to the plateau to torture and kill me.

Leif yelped nearby. An arrow had nicked his cheek. “Theobroma?” he asked

before his face froze.

Of course! My father’s Theobroma, which had saved me from Alea. I ripped

open my pack, searching for the antidote to Curare. The rain of arrows slowed, and

a rustling noise from above meant our attackers were climbing down. Probably to

take better aim. I found the brown lumps of Theobroma and put one into my mouth,

immediately chewing and swallowing it.

Moon Man cursed and I broke cover to run to him. An arrow hit my back. The

force slammed me to the ground. Pain rippled through my body.

“Yelena!” Moon Man grabbed my outstretched arm and pulled me to him.

“Here.” I panted as the Curare numbed the throb in my lower back. “Eat this.”

He ate the Theobroma lump without a moment’s hesitation. An arrow’s shaft had

pinned his tunic to a tree.

I lost feeling in my legs. “Are you hit?”

He ripped his shirt free and examined the skin along his right side. “No.”

“Pretend to be,” I whispered. “Wait for my signal.”

Sudden understanding flashed in his deep brown eyes. He broke the shaft off the

arrow that had missed him, and swiped blood from my back. Lying down, he held

the shaft between two bloody fingers of his left hand which he placed on his

stomach, making it look like the arrow had pierced his gut. His right hand gripped his

scimitar.

Men called as they reached the jungle floor. Before they could discover me, I put

my right hand into my pant’s pocket, palming the handle of my switchblade.

Numbness spread throughout my torso, but the Theobroma countered the Curare’s

effects to a point where limited movement remained. Even so, I lay still, pretending

to be paralyzed.

“I found one,” a man said.

“Over here’s another.”

“I found two,” a rough voice right above me said.

“That’s the rest of them. Make sure they’re incapacitated before you drag them

out. Dump them beside their companion in the clearing,” said a fourth voice.

The rough-voiced man kicked me in the ribs. Pain ringed my chest and stomach.

I clamped my teeth together to suppress a grunt. When he grabbed my ankles and

hauled me through the bushes and over the uneven stones of the bank, I was a bit

glad for the Curare in my body. It dulled the burning sting as the left side of my face

and ear were rubbed raw by the ground.

The Curare also dulled my emotions. I knew I should be terrified, yet felt only

mild concern. Curare’s ability to paralyze my magic remained the most frightening

aspect of the drug. Even though the Theobroma counteracted it, Theobroma had its

own side effect. The antidote opened a person’s mind to magical influence. While I

could use magic, now I had no defense against another’s magic.

Marrok still lay where he had fallen. The loud scrape of Moon Man’s weapon on

the ground reached me before he was dropped beside me.

“His fingers are frozen around the handle,” one of the men said.

“A lot of good it will do him,” another joked.

Listening to their voices, I counted five men. Two against five. Not bad odds

unless my legs remained numb. Then Moon Man would be on his own.

Once the men brought Leif and Tauno to the bank, the leader of the attackers

dropped the null shield. It felt as if a curtain had been yanked back, revealing what

lurked behind. All five men’s thoughts were open to me now.

Their leader shouted orders. “Prepare the prisoners for the Kirakawa ritual,” he

said.

“We should not feed these men to it,” Rough Voice said. “We should use their

blood for ourselves. You should stay.”

My gaze met Moon Man’s. We needed to act soon. I suppressed the desire to

make mental contact with the Story Weaver. Their leader had to be a strong Warper

to have created such a subtle null shield. There was a chance he would “hear” us.

The crunch of gravel under boots neared. My stomach tightened.

“I have orders to bring the woman to Jal,” the leader said from above me. “Jal

has special plans for her.”

Without warning, the arrow in my back was yanked out. I bit my tongue to keep

from yelling. The leader knelt next to me. He held the arrow, examining the weapon.

My blood stained the smooth metal tip. At least the tip wasn’t barbed. Strange I

should worry about that.

“Too bad,” Rough Voice said. “Think of the power you could have if you

performed Kirakawa on her. You might become stronger than Jal. You could lead

our clan.”

My lower back pulsed with pain. The Theobroma was working. Another minute

and I should regain the use of my legs.

“She is powerful,” the leader agreed. “But I do not know the binding rite yet.

Once I bring her to Jal, I hope to be rewarded and allowed to ascend to the next

level.”

He smoothed tendrils of hair from my face. I made a conscious effort not to

flinch as his fingers caressed my cheek.

“Are the rumors true? Are you really a Soulfinder?” he whispered to me. He

stroked my arm in a possessive way. “Perhaps I can siphon a cup of your blood

before I deliver you to Jal.” He reached for the knife hanging from his belt.

I moved. Pulling my switchblade from my pocket, I triggered the blade and rolled

over, slicing his stomach open. But instead of falling back in surprise, he leaned

forward and wrapped his hands around my neck.

A blur of motion beside me, and Moon Man leaped to his feet, swinging his

scimitar in a deadly arc through Rough Voice.

I struggled with the leader. His weight trapped my arms. The pressure from his

thumbs closed my windpipe. He attempted to connect with my mind, and would

have succeeded with his magical attack if the Curare on my switchblade hadn’t

worked so fast to paralyze his power.

One problem remained. Trapped under the frozen Vermin, I couldn’t breathe.

Moon Man, I called. Help!

One minute. The clang of weapons split the air.

I’ll be dead in a minute. Just push him off. A brief flurry of steel hitting steel was

followed by silence. The man on me fell to the side. I freed my arms and pried his

hands from my neck.

Moon Man reengaged in the battle. He fought three men. One man’s decapitated

head rested next to me. Lovely.

My short blade wouldn’t last against their long scimitars and my bow was in the

jungle with my pack. Gathering power, I sent a light touch to one man’s mind.

Relieved he wasn’t a Warper, I sent him puzzling images to distract him.

He dropped out of the fight with Moon Man and stared at my approach with a

baffled expression. The man raised his sword a second too late. I stepped close to

him and nicked his arm with my switchblade, hoping Curare still clung to my blade.

Unable to use his sword, the man dropped his weapon and lunged. His intent to

subdue me rang clear in his mind, but I deepened my mental connection and forced

him to sleep.

With only two attackers left, Moon Man had both their heads off in short order.

He strode over to the man sleeping at my feet and raised his scimitar.

“Stop,” I said. “When he wakes, we can question him about Cahil’s plans.”

“The other?”

“Paralyzed.”

Moon Man rolled the leader over. The blood from his stomach wound had

pooled on the rocks. After touching the man’s neck and face, Moon Man said, “He

is gone.”

The cut was deeper than I thought. A felt a tinge of guilt as I scowled at the

body. The leader probably had more information than the other man.

“It is a good thing. He was a Warper. We would not have gotten anything from

him except trouble.”

I looked at the scattered carnage. The headless bodies cast macabre shadows in

the pale moonlight. The side of my face and the wound in my back throbbed. The

cool night air felt icy on my wet clothes. Tauno and Marrok both needed medical

attention, and we couldn’t go anywhere until the Curare wore off. And the thought of

spending the night surrounded by corpses…

“I will take care of them,” Moon Man said, reading my thoughts. “And I will

build a fire. You take care of the wounded. Including you.”

Pulling the arrows from Marrok’s thigh and Tauno’s shoulder, I gathered power

but couldn’t assume their injuries. The Curare in their bodies blocked my magic. An

interesting discovery. It seemed when under the influence of the drug, a person

couldn’t do magic or be affected by it.

I mulled over the implications as I searched in my pack. Finding a few lumps of

Theobroma, I gave it to Moon Man to melt over the fire and feed to our paralyzed

companions. From my own experience with Curare, I knew the drug didn’t affect

the body’s ability to swallow, breathe and hear. So I told them what I planned to do.

The last of my energy faded after healing my own wound. I curled into a ball on

the ground and fell asleep.

When I woke, watery streaks of color painted the sky. Moon Man sat

cross-legged next to a fire, cooking a divine-smelling hunk of meat. My stomach

grumbled in anticipation.

I checked on the others. Marrok, Leif and Tauno still slept. Leif’s cut had

scabbed over, but I would need to heal Marrok’s and Tauno’s wounds. Moon Man

had tied the Daviian prisoner’s arms and legs with some jungle vines even though the

Vermin remained unconscious.

Moon Man gestured for me to join him. “Eat first before you heal them.” He

handed me a sliver of meat speared on a stick. When I sniffed at the offering, he

said, “Do not analyze it. It is hot and nourishing. That is all you need to know.”

“Why do you get to decide what I need to know? Why can’t you just give me the

information I ask for?” My frustration extended beyond the mystery meat.

“That would be too easy.”

“What’s wrong with easy? I can understand if the most stressful aspect of my life