The Echidna's Scale (Alchemy's Apprentice) (22 page)

He was sobered, as he thought of his vision in the fire, of himself being dragged down by wolves, but he said nothing as he returned to the campsite and got the food out for their breakfast ration.  Their supplies were dwindling slowly but surely, and that was another thing to worry about, but he said nothing about either issue to the rest of the group when they all ate their meal and packed up their gear, before he extinguished the fire.

That day they hiked through a drizzling rain.  The temperature of the air was just warm enough to prevent the rain from turning to snow, so they all got wet and cold and felt miserable as they walked due north, following a meandering set of trails selected by Gawail, who darted out and in of the front of Kate’s cape so often to warm up between scouting trips that the girl complained, and Cassius laughed at her, which drew a haughty rebuke from the girl from the Lion City, before she grinned.

The rain continued all day long, and the overcast evening sky began to darken before sunset.

“We should go ahead and find a good spot to spend the night now, while we can still see clearly,” Marco suggested as they climbed up a steep hillside.  “Look for someplace that will be easy to protect,” he suggested.

“And where you can build another fire,” Pesino called from the rear of the group.

“Not tonight,” Marco replied, having thought about the matter as he walked during the day.  The fire was visible from a long distance, and the first howl by a wolf had occurred as soon as he had unlocked the power of his enchanted hand to start the magical fire.  Marco didn’t think it was a coincidence.

There was silence among the others.  “I think we ought to not draw attention to ourselves,” Marco explained.  “Are we close to Clovis, Gawail?” he asked the pixie.

“We will be there tomorrow,” Gawial replied.

“Once we’re in Clovis we can all be warm again,” Marco assured them.  “And how about here for a campsite?” he asked as he rounded a bend in the trail.  They were near the top of the mountain they were climbing, and a small, flat-floored dell extended into the mountainside, with natural stone walls rising on three sides to protect the site from attack.

“This will be okay,” Kate said, “but it would be better with a fire,” she said mournfully, as Marco led them all off the trail to a spot where they could unload their packs.

The tent went up quickly, a well-practiced camp activity after several days on the trail, and they all sat together in front of the tent eating their dinner as the last gray gloaming of the day’s end faded away.  They set their rotation for the watch, then retired into the tent to sleep an uneasy cold sleep.

Marco took the last shift of the night, and was pleased when Cassius reported that no wolf howling had occurred on either of the previous shifts.  None occurred during Marco’s shift either, and when the skies cleared away shortly before the sunrise, he enjoyed seeing the stars give way to the red light of the sun peeking over the horizon.

He soon had the whole group awake, packed up, and striding through the forest again.

“How long until we get to Clovis?” Cassius asked Gawail as he returned from his first scouting trip.

“It will be before sunset, my friend,” Gawail replied, “but not before the sun is at the top of the sky.”  The sun was rising in a clear blue sky.

They walked on, and at midday Gawail came flying back with the most exciting report they had heard in days.  “When you go around the next curve in the path you will be able to see Clovis,” he told them.

Their feet hurried up, even though the trail was slick with mud, and they slipped and slid forward at a quickened pace for the next half hour, until they came to the turn in the trial, one that took them around the outside of a mountain.  They had a view of a wide and long valley, surrounded by mountains, and within the valley they saw a city with several tall towers, buildings and walls and roads that led to it.

The bridges were broken in some cases though, and at least one tower’s top had evidently toppled away, creating an atmosphere of decay.

“Is that Clovis?” Marco asked, and Gawail emerged to look out.

“That is the forlorn city.  This trail will descend to the floor of the valley, and lead you to the road that goes directly to the gate,” Gawail replied.

Marco could not see the gate, but he tensed up at the mention of the way into the city, as he remembered the vision he had seen in the fire, the chase by the wolves and his falling prey to the animals.

Their trail soon began to descend, winding around the perimeters of valleys and gullies and ravines that lowered their elevation at a precipitous rate.  They took to holding hands as they skidded down the muddy path, but within two hours they reach the floor of the valley, and began to walk along a narrow game track that threaded through the thick forest.  An hour later they stopped in the gloom, and looked at one another with broad grins.  Beneath a canopy of leafless leaves, their path crossed the remnants of a stony track, a road that remained a permanent fixture, the handiwork of men who had carved a way through the forest in an arrow-straight line.

“Look at this!” Kate said excitedly.  “We’re on the way now!”

They turned to the right, and began to walk along the road, but only for half an hour before they came to a broken bridge that spanned a narrow stream.  The water in the stream flowed with a swift, high current, swollen by the rainfall of the day before.

“How do we cross this?” Pesino asked, as she stood at the very end of the bridge, looking down at the water that foamed several feet below her.

And at that moment, the stony edge of the bridge crumbled away.  Marco happened to be looking at her, and he saw the look of astonishment that flashed momentarily across her face as she started to drop, and then she was gone from sight, and swept away by the river.

“Pesino!” Kate screamed.  “Marco!” she turned and looked at him, her face pale.  “Save her –do something!”

Marco dashed to the edge of the bridge and looked down river, where he saw Pesino struggling to control herself in the deadly current that was tumbling her along.

He reached out without thinking, with no plan or any expectation, only a premonition that he had to try.  “Pesino!  Come back to us!” he shouted with the utmost physical effort he could muster, his heart full of anguish.

His hand glowed for only a flash, then he felt it grow lightweight in some fashion, and he watched as a rope of light extended from the tips of his fingers and flew towards Pesino, then wrapped itself around her and rapidly retracted towards Marco, carrying her back in a matter of seconds and thrusting her against his body, so that as the light vanished and the rope disappeared, his arms embraced her in a hug, as she wrapped her arms around him in a desperate clutching grasp for safety.

“By all the blue seas, thank you Marco dear!” she cried, and she buried her face in his shoulder as she sobbed.

“I’ve never been afraid of water before, but that was terrifying!” she told him.

And then a wolf howled, somewhere in the woods at a great distance behind them.

“Let’s get across this bridge, Quickly!” Marco said in fear.  His dream was going to come true, he knew.  He was going to try everything he could to outrun the wolves, but at the very end, they would bring him down.

“What’s wrong, Marco?” Cassius asked, as Pesino raised her head and looked at him.

“I’ve had a vision of the wolves chasing us,” he replied, as he gently pressed Pesino away.  He looked at the short gap across the center of the bridge span.  “We may be able to find a couple of fallen trees to cross this,” he waved his hand at the stream.  “Let’s go find something.”

They spread out into two teams, Kate and Cassius, and Marco and Pesino, who was still wet with the water of the stream, and cold to the point her teeth were chattering.

“As soon as we get to Clovis you can change into something warm,” Marco promised her as they lifted a solid tree trunk that was down, and carried it back to the bridge. The other pair had already moved one log in place, and they added theirs to it, then went out in search of more.

Five minutes later there were four pieces of timber providing an uneven span across the broken bridge, and Marco wobbled across it first.  A wolf howled again, and the others hurried across as well.  Marco pushed the logs into the stream, then they all started trotting forward along the graveled roadway, steadily following the straight line that Marco prayed would lead them to a better outcome than his vision had shown.

The wolf howled again, and another answered immediately, from somewhere off to their right.

“What happened in your vision, Marco?” Cassius asked between breaths as they bustled along.

“The wolves, came after us.  They chased us all the way to the gates of the city,” Marco answered.

“And?” Kate prompted.

Marco paused, then answered.  “Just run; keep going,” he answered, not willing to put his fear into words, but conveying his fear nonetheless.

They continued to trot, until Pesino slowed down, her hand pressed against her side.  Her clothes were still wet, as was her hair, and her face was pale.  She was in extreme discomfort, Marco could tell.

“Go on,” Marco told Kate and Cassius.  “You go on to the city.  I’ll stay with Pesino, and we’ll catch up,” he told them.

“No, we’ll all stick together,” Cassius said immediately.  Marco remembered his vision; they had all been together, or close to one another.

“Here,” he unstrapped his pack and gave it to Cassius, then gave his bow to Kate.  “Take these, and I’ll carry her.”

“No Marco, just keep going,” Pesino protested, as there was another round of wolf howls, again one behind and one to the right, plus now a pair on the left.

“That’s nonsense,” Marco said.  “What man is going to abandon his new bride to the wolves, when they’re still on their honeymoon?” he asked, drawing a smile from the bent-over girl.  He positioned himself directly in front of her, and bent low.

“Climb on my back, just until the stitch in your side feels better; come on Pesino, hurry,” he urged, then felt the girl’s arms wrap around his shoulders.  He gave a hitch to lift her higher, then stood up and started trotting again, as his companions stayed right alongside him.

Within fifteen minutes Pesino rested her head on Marco’s shoulder, and placed her mouth near his ear.  “You’re a good man to do this Marco, a very good man.  Are you sure you’re not really a merman?” she asked, making Marco grin.

“I feel much better now,” she continued.  “If you’ll put me down now, I think I can go on my own.”  Marco was glad to stop, and stooped down as Pesino slid down, and started jogging along beside him, as he retrieved his belongings from Cassius and Kate.

The wolves howled again a few minutes later, multiple wolves, from multiple directions, sounding closer than ever.  “Gawail,” Marco called as he stepped up next to Kate, “go see how close we are to Clovis.”

The pixie departed and the wolves howled again.  Already they sounded even closer; the distance from the wolves to the fleeing party was growing uncomfortably short.

Gawail came back it just moments.  “It’s not much further,” he said.  “You’ll be there in a few more minutes.”

“Let’s go faster,” Marco urged.  “You all can rest as soon as we get to the gates of the city.”

They all picked up the pace, and then the howling occurred so nearby that Marco expected to see the wolves emerging from the trees around them.  “Drop your bags!  Drop your packs!  Just run!” Marco urged, as he dropped his own pack, then pulled his bow free and pulled an arrow from his quiver.

He looked over his shoulder and saw a shadow moving in the trees.  “Keep running!” he yelled.  “I’ll catch up!” he screamed, and then he turned suddenly, and put his knee down on the muddy gravel of the road, as he took aim at the movements he saw.

Two wolves emerged from the trees, and saw him.  They were alone, the vanguard of the wolves that were in pursuit of their quarry; they hadn’t expected to catch any of their targets so quickly, but the sight of Marco alone and stationary was a lure they couldn’t resist, and they charged at him straight on.

Marco released his first arrow, and prayed that it would be a true shot.  He’d been adequate at archery practice back at Sant Jeroni, but not outstanding.  He’d often been able to hit moving targets, especially at close range, but not under such tension and pressure.

He watched the arrow fly swiftly ahead as it leapt off his bowstring, heading towards the wolves.  He realized he didn’t have time to fire a second arrow, and he jumped upward as he pulled his sword free, and simultaneously watched one wolf swerve to the left and avoid the arrow.  Seconds later the wolves were upon Marco, unharmed and unfazed by his arrow.

His sword took over.  The weapon deftly swung itself and Marco’s arm downward to his left, as his body swerved and then ducked.  His sword stroke cleaved cleanly through the neck of one wolf,
silently ending its attack, while Marco’s quick maneuver caused the other wolf to miss him as it tried to strike his chest, and it flew over him, before his sword swooped onward and around, then rose and gutted the animal.

There was a collective howl in the woods nearby, and Marco hastily picked up his bow and arrows, then started running.  He was sprinting to catch up with the others, who he could still spy on the road ahead of him.  It was his dream; he was living the vision he had seen, and he was determined to change the outcome, expending every last ounce of energy and effort he had to create an opportunity to survive.