Ghosts Of Alfhaven (Book 2) (15 page)

A moment of silence passed before the others agreed. They spent the next hour building a suitable pyre, under Jatharr's more knowledgeable guidance. Sawain could not do much to help, but he did sit down beside Tobi and removed the rock pile from around his body. Sawain finally got to see the gruesome wounds that took his friend from him. He wished he had not seen them.

The Ghosts of Alfhaven lifted Tobi's body onto the ship-like pyre that they constructed from old sticks and dead branches from the forest floor. They gathered around it in a circle. Sawain leaned against Naralei at the head of the pyre. Jatharr handed Sawain a lit torch.

“
I think it's best if you led the ceremony, Deathsbane.”

Sawain nodded and took the torch. He held it over Tobi's head. The light-sensitive elves squinted in pain from the intense flare. Sawain looked at Tobi's peaceful face. He remembered that the old clerics at the important pyres would always give long, drawn out speeches about the dead hero, glorifying everything they ever did in life, even if it meant embellishing things. Sawain did not need embellishment. He thought for a moment to find the words he wanted to use.

“Tobi, we send your spirit off to worlds unknown, but before you go, I want to tell you something. I want you to know that you are a hero. Not because you slayed a monster or saved our hides so many times. Not even because you gave your life to save mine. Tobi, you're my hero because you were my first real friend, and because of that, I will never forget you. Wherever your spirit goes, I hope you find rest and peace in your next home. Farewell, my friend.”

Sawain thrust the torch into the pyre amidst the sniffles of the onlookers. He watched the flames quickly spread and envelop Tobi's body. Soon, the blaze was so intense that everyone had to step away. Sawain heard the sobs of the others as the pyre collapsed in the heat.

He blinked the tears out of his eyes. He was not sure if it was delirium or fatigue, or just the shadows of night, but for a short moment, Sawain thought he saw Tobi standing in the flames, smiling and waving at him. Whether he actually saw it or not, he returned the smile and waved back.

Chapter 15

Darkness reigned once more in the druid's grove. Tobi's funeral pyre was nothing more than warm ashes. The Ghosts took one more night to recover before they finally broke camp.

Banthan never left Loraleth's side all night. Sawain, who could not sleep anyway, listened to his whispered begging.

“Come on, sis. Don't do this. We need you. I need you. You were always the braver one. This isn't like you at all... Please don't give up on me.”

For hours, Banthan tried to reach his sibling, but Loraleth never spoke a word to him. The night passed and Sawain could no longer tolerate lying around. He called out to the team.

“Alright, Ghosts, It's time to move again. We've wasted too much time already. Let's get going!”

Sawain was unable to stand on his own, much less walk or climb.  The others fashioned a crutch from a stout piece of wood so that he could support himself without using his broken leg. The most tedious part of the exodus was getting Sawain into the upper tangle. It took Jatharr, Banthan, and Naralei to pull him up via a makeshift pulley system of twine rope.

Sawain was relieved to be back in the trees again. He was uncomfortable on the ground, and the trip back into the sheltering boughs nearly took its toll on him. He glanced nervously at the narrow branches that made the interwoven network of highways they used to travel through the forest.

“Nara, are you sure this is going to work? I mean, I don't know if I can keep balanced with a crutch on these limbs, and what about jumping to other limbs? I definitely can't jump like this.”

Naralei did not even look at him, “Then don't jump. I'm sure you can manage.”

The cold tone of her voice caused Sawain's scalp to prickle. He was certain that she was mad at him. He glanced down at Loraleth, who was still huddled against the same tree she was at earlier. Sawain sighed. He wished that he had chosen kinder words when he talked to her earlier. In the back of his mind, he blamed himself for her desire to depart. He wanted to try one last time. He wanted to say something to her. He wanted to go down and sit by her until she felt better, so that everyone would stay together. He simply did not have time for that.

“
Loraleth.”

Loraleth jumped slightly when she heard Sawain call her name, but she did not look up.

“Loraleth, It's not too late to come with us. I'm sorry for my harsh words earlier. You can still redeem yourself. I know that you are not a coward. I have faith in you.”

Loraleth still did not look at him, “Like you had faith in Tobi?”

Everyone was silent. Her words cut through Sawain like the sword that cut through his leg. It took him a moment to collect himself before he spoke again. His tone was calm and his voice was steady.

“
You will always have a place in the Outriders. We won't be moving fast. You can catch up with us at any time, once you come to your senses.”

Loraleth did not move. Sawain waited a moment, let out a quiet sigh, then turned to the other outriders. Their faces were as somber as his heart. He raised his free hand.

Everyone, even Jatharr, nodded. Sawain was glad the Captain had at least a rudimentary knowledge of their language now. They limped through the treetops in the direction Loraleth marked when they stopped in the grove. The pace was slow and the path was treacherous. Sawain struggled to keep his crutch from slipping off of the mossy branches.

This slow progress ate at Sawain's patience. They spent two hours on the move and covered the same amount of ground they could have in ten minutes if they were in better condition. It aggravated Sawain immensely. He held his tongue, but his temper grew with each passing hour. Mari offered to let Sawain lean on her, but Sawain's pride was wounded as it was and he tried to make it on his own for as long as he could.

They wove their way through the dark forest for days. Sawain's leg would not allow them to move quickly. They were in no condition to fight and were in Tribal territory. The constant fear of discovery lingered amongst them.

They spent half a day at one point hidden in a dead tree when a dark elf hunting party picked up their trail. The only thing that saved them from discovery was a song of forgetfulness from Mari and Timbrel. Though they forgot what they were looking for, it took the tribals a few hours to give up on the actual hunt.

Banthan was virtually useless now. He moved listlessly. He kept a closer watch on where they had been than on where they were going. Sawain was irritable as it was, but he tried to show Banthan some compassion and not yell at him as much. His leg got worse every day and the sojourn became harder with his clumsy brace in tow.

He slipped on a thin bough and nearly fell from the treetops. He caught the branch, but the crutch fell to the forest floor with a splash. He growled menacingly as he tried to pull himself up. Naralei was at his side in an instant.

She grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him up to the branch. He sat and dangled his legs over the edge of his seat. He grit his teeth until the stabbing pain in his fractured leg subsided enough to be bearable. Naralei offered a hand. Sawain did not take it. She glared at him.

“What, now you don't want my help, either?”

Sawain shot her a sideways glare, “ You're mad at me about Loraleth, but that was her call, not mine. I tried to set things right, so lose the attitude and start acting like a ranger.”

Naralei's expression turned to one of hurt. She snorted and stormed away from Sawain. He just sat there, and stared at the dark, flat ground below him. There was something strange about it. Light danced around on the wet sheen it produced. The light was familiar to Sawain. He looked up and noticed thin rays of sunlight were able to penetrate the Alfhaven canopy. The trees here were thinner, more spread out.

Mari and Timbrel appeared at Sawain's side. Mari placed her hands on her hips and smiled at him.

“You look like you could use a hand, boss. Or, maybe... a foot? Ha! Get it?”

She offered Sawain her hand. He looked at her skeptically before he finally gave in and accepted it. She pulled him to his feet and braced him under his right arm with her shoulder. Sawain furrowed his brow.

“You know, I think it's too soon to be cracking leg jokes, Mari.”

She chuckled as they limped along, “Aww, I'm sorry, boss. I know you're still sore about it. Maybe it's something you should just leg go! Ah ha ha ha ha!”

Sawain could not help but smile at Mari's happy, yet gruesome nature, “Come on, Mari. Give me a break!”

Mari chortled, “You made a joke! I'm so ec-Thigh-ted! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

Sawain laughed at Mari's pun. Her jokes were finally growing on him. He waited a moment then looked around.

“
Mari, you notice anything strange about this place?”

She nodded and looked up at the canopy, “Yeah, I do. It's a lot brighter here, and it stinks.”

Somehow Sawain did not notice the smell until now. She was right. The air smelled like rotting vegetation and corpses. He guessed his own bloody leg rendered his sense of smell weak. He nodded.

“
You're right. Smells pretty foul. Look at the ground, too. When I dropped my stick, it hit the ground with a splash. I think we've found Bitterdeep Bog.”

Mari looked awe struck as she stared at the ground, “Whoa, you're right. It's all wet and slimy. Hey, guys! We're in Bitterdeep Bog!”

Naralei shot Mari a stern look, “We know, Mari. Keep it down. We don't need to be attacked by something!”

Mari stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her nose at Naralei, “Aww go jump in the bog, you nasty old toad. We can see a lot farther here. There's nothing around us. Just trees and swamp.”

A loud buzzing noise like a giant insect shot by Sawain's ear. He swatted at the source of the buzzing.

“
Well, there are lots of bugs. I don't know who would want to live in such a place.”

Jatharr swatted at a darting pest, “Aye, let's just hurry up and find Sibilach.”

Banthan, who was silent since they left his sister behind yelped and grabbed his backside, “Something bit me!”

Sawain looked back at Banthan and gave him a stern look, “Keep it down!”

Banthan scowled at Sawain, “It hurt, alright? These bugs are getting on my nerves.”

He rubbed his backside and swatted at an oncoming insect. He smacked it down. A high pitched squeak came from the bug as it fell into the bog below. Sawain and the others watched as it sputtered and splashed and yelled in an unknown tongue. Now that it was not flying around, Sawain could see that it was not a bug at all.

“We need to move.”

A sound like a swarm of bees filled the air. It started as a low drone, then built into a loud rumble. A cloud of the small winged creatures surrounded the outriders in seconds. Sawain drew his blade and swatted madly at the encroaching creatures. His sword only cut air as the quick little things nimbly danced around it. They covered him and crawled all over him before he knew it. He now got a good look at them.

They were humanoid in shape, though they were only about four inches tall. Their skin was scaly and either black, brown, or gray. They had red compound eyes that bulged out of their skulls like the eyes of a fly. Their mouths were humanoid, but were filled with rows of tiny, needle-like teeth. They had four wings that were similar to the wings of a dragon fly, though larger. They wore simple tunics made of leaves.

Sawain growled in pain as the creatures bit into his flesh through his clothes. They each felt like knife pricks. Sawain had to try something to get them off. He closed his eyes and grasped the totem around his neck.

Lord Turin, I know I am not yet ready, but I am so close. Pour your energy through me and burn these things so that I can move forward.

Sawain heard the rumble of thunder above his head. It was unmistakable. Light filled the swamp along with a deafening, crackling explosion. Sawain's breath left him as a bolt of lightning struck his hand and poured its energy into his totem. He felt a shock wave of warm, prickling static electricity run over his skin. Hundreds of tiny screams filled the air as the little monsters fell off of Sawain, smoldering.

Sawain blinked the dark spots out of his eyes. He did not expect that, but he was glad it worked without cooking him like the bugs. He looked around and noticed that the ones attacking the others were affected by the lightning blast as well. They hovered haphazardly in the air. They doubled over and held their heads as if they were going to be sick. Sawain saw this as an opportunity to strike.

“
Quick! Get them while they're stunned!”

He raised his sword to slash at one of the stunned creatures. A haunting feminine voice filled his head.

Oh, now, hold your blade, traveler. You don't want to be going around and cutting up poor, innocent, little pixies, do you? Oh no, you don't. In fact, you want to drop your weapon.

Sawain did not want to drop his weapon, but his fingers unclenched anyway, against his will. His sword hit the bog below with a splash. He heard several more splashes behind him and assumed he was not the only one being controlled. He thought hard to himself.

Are you pixies doing this to us? Let us go! We are under the authority of Turin, god of the Sturmforge. Let us pass or die!

Sawain could hear the others panicking. He felt his body move away from Mari. Pain shot through his being as he put weight on his broken leg and turned to the right. He saw a rowboat on the swampy surface, a hundred feet away from them. A tall, robed, and hooded figure stood in the middle of the boat. The woman's voice filled his mind again.

Silly boy, it isn't the pixies that make you bow, but their mother.

Sawain involuntarily bowed to the robed figure then straightened up. To his horror, he jumped from the tree and splashed into the muck below. The pain that ran through him was like a thousand bolts of lightning. It caused him to lose nearly all consciousness. He had no will of his own anymore. He did not think, he could only see. He could only hear four large splashes behind him. The woman's voice filled his ears.

Come to me now, silly boy. Come to me now. I will end your suffering. You will not hurt anymore.

Sawain began to walk toward the mysterious person in the boat. He did not know why, he just wanted to make her happy. He was waist deep in mud already. He sank a few inches deeper with every slow and deliberate step he took. It hurt, but her lulling voice gave him the will to press on.

That's right, boy, come closer. Be a good boy, now.

Sawain wanted to be a good boy. He was still far from the boat and chest deep in the swamp. He put one foot in front of the other. He could hear someone sputtering and coughing behind him.

A beautiful, trilling melody like a flute rang out and snapped Sawain back to his senses. Intense pain ran from his leg, up his spine. The agony from his broken leg caused him to buckle. Panic filled his heart. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he fell beneath the festering bog.

Sawain felt two hands slip under his armpits. His rescuer struggled against the hungry mud that tried to keep him under. The mud finally gave out just as Sawain's chest began to burn from lack of breath. Water rushed around him. He broke the surface of the bog a second later and gasped for air. The pungent breeze was much sweeter this time.