WinterMaejic (9 page)

After we finished eating, I still didn’t feel quite sleepy enough to lie down. As we sat keeping warm in front of the fire, Anazian began to talk about the trees.

“This forest we’ve been traveling through—have you any idea of its age?”

I shook my head. “I never really thought about it. I guess it’s been here forever.”

He smiled. “Almost, perhaps, but not quite. The trees, they can tell you.”

My eyes widened. “You can talk to the trees?” Maybe that explained why he was so knowledgeable about plants and so adept at finding his way through the woods.

“Oh, yes. Anyone maejic can. You need only to learn how. Would you like to try?”

“Yes!” I said eagerly. “I’d love that.”

He rose to his feet and held out a hand to assist me. I took it with a smile. Maybe I could get used to this kind of gallantry after all.

He glanced around. “There. That one will do.” I followed him to the one he’d chosen. A beech tree, with a pine growing right next to it, not two yards away. He placed his hands on the trunk of the beech and listened with eyes half closed. A smile came to his lips. “Yes. Here. Place your hand on the trunk, like so.”

Facing him, I stepped closer, putting my right hand where he indicated.

His voice softened. “Close your eyes. Feel the skin of the tree under your hand. Feel its sap flow in rhythm with your own blood.”

I tried to do as he said, but I didn’t feel anything but rough bark. Maybe this was something I’d have to work at harder than usual. I concentrated, but still nothing.

Anazian placed a hand on top of mine. It felt very warm, and I remembered how Yallick’s had done the same all those days ago. I squeezed my eyes tighter in concentration, but it didn’t help.

All of a sudden, I felt a crushing pain in my hand, as if the bones had been smashed to powder and the flesh pressed flat. My eyes flew open as I cried aloud. I looked to find my hand buried up to my wrist in the tree itself.

“What?” I gasped. “What’s happening?” My voice rose to a panicked shriek. “Help me!”

Anazian struck me so hard across the mouth that my head snapped back. “Be silent, you fool!” I felt blood from a split lip trickle down my chin as Anazian reached for my other hand. I struggled against him, but it was useless. He captured my free hand and pressed it into the trunk of the nearby pine.

The agony doubled, and I couldn’t help it: I screamed. But no sound came out of my mouth.

The attack was brutal and effective. Klemma is gone. So, too, are Marby, Pellin, Forb, and Illid. Others are injured, and several of them may yet die. And still others—many others—are missing. Stam, Anazian, Doolh, to name only a few. And worst of all, Donavah.

The few birds I was able to summon after the attack sought out any trace of her vibrational signature. All returned having found nothing.

We must go on to Xyla, those of us who have regrouped. But for my apprentice, I must hold out hope against hope whilst I dread the worst. If she is lost, how very, very much more will be lost as well.

For a few moments, the pain threatened to engulf me. I took in great heaving breaths and tried to force myself to calm down.

Anazian’s laughter rang through the woods. I blinked the tears out of my eyes and looked at him. He stood there scrutinizing me, hatred pouring from his very being. What had I ever done to him? Why was he doing this? I bit back the questions, not wanting to give him any more satisfaction than he was already getting.

“And that should settle you,” he said, spitting out the words. “Pleasant dreams, my dear.”

I could only watch in horror as he gathered his things, kicked out the fire, and strode off into the darkness.

I stood there; what else could I do? The chill soon began to seep into my joints, and I began to shiver. After awhile, I realized that the trees, too, shuddered periodically, as if the invasion caused them pain.

Attached to them inextricably, I tried to use my maejic to communicate with them. To no avail. It was some time before it occurred to me that despite having unblocked, I felt nothing. No vibrations of any sort.

New panic rose up inside me, and I had to work harder than ever to gain control. The feeling eventually subsided, but was quickly replaced with despair. Tears of fear and frustration welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I sobbed.

And discovered that I truly had no voice. I tried to speak. Nothing. I tried to hum. Still nothing. I tried every way I could think of to make noise, but not a sound escaped my lips. Anazian had made me mute, too. Unable to cry out for help. And what else might he have done?

The minutes crawled by. I soon became completely numb with cold. At least I could no longer feel the excruciating pain in my hands. I couldn’t feel much of anything at all. Eventually, my thoughts themselves seemed to go numb.

The night passed with the agonizing slowness of a painful death.

Then, just after dawn, I heard a gasp behind me. I tried to look around, but I couldn’t see anyone. All I could think of was that Anazian had returned for some horrible purpose, perhaps to gloat and watch me die.

“Is this what you meant?” a soft, deep voice asked. “I can see why you were so upset.” I tried harder to see who was approaching, and I felt the muscles in my arms pull. “Stop struggling, before you hurt yourself.” And the owner of the voice stepped into view and stood a few feet in front of me. It was definitely not Anazian.

A young man, probably in his early twenties. He wore buckskin leggings and tunic, and soft boots that let him walk silently when he wished. A mass of wavy black hair fell past his shoulders. Several knives of various lengths hung sheathed from his belt, and he leaned a long bow against the beech tree. But it was his grey eyes that drew and held my attention. Somehow, they conveyed a wealth of concern with a simple gaze.

He raised a hand slowly, as if he were trying to calm a frightened animal. “You’ll be all right now.” His voice was gentle. He took a step or two nearer, and I flinched. If I could have, I would have backed away. But trapped like a fly in a spider’s web, I was completely helpless. At his mercy. Whoever he was, he could do anything to me. Absolutely anything.

He looked deep into my eyes. “It’s all right. It really is.” My breath eased the tiniest bit. “I’m going to help you. Look.” He raised his other hand, so that I could see them both. He came a few steps closer. His eyes made me want to trust him, but I was simply too afraid.

He came yet closer, and he was now too near for me to maintain eye contact. He placed his hands on the trees, over my hands buried deep inside. I could feel his warm breath on my forehead. We stood that way for several moments, and then I felt my hands slip free. I collapsed in shock, and the young man barely caught me before I fell.

He carried me away from where I’d been imprisoned and set me on the ground next to the long-dead fire. I cradled my hands in my lap and bent forward, almost in a fetal position, while he hastily started a fire.

Soon its warmth began to thaw out my seemingly frozen flesh. But with the return of feeling to my limbs came also the return of pain to my hands.

I heard a snuffling sound, and before I could look up to see what it was, a cold, wet nose poked through my hair and touched my cheek. I sat up in surprise to find a white and brown hound looking at me, ears perked in curiosity.

“Leave her alone, Chase. Come with me now.”

The hound looked at its master and back at me a few times, then sat down next to me, actually leaning against my thigh.

“Have it your way, then. By the way, I’m Grey. I mean, that’s my name.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I looked away, embarrassed.

“I’m just going to get more wood. You stay here and get warm.”

As if I could move anywhere. He left, and I felt panic begin to return at being left alone. The dog rubbed its head along my arm, as if it understood and was trying to reassure me. I raised a hand to pet it.

And found that both hands had balled themselves into tight fists. Nothing I could do would budge a single finger. I held my hands out to the fire, hoping that the warmth would loosen the joints. If anything, it just increased the pain.

When Grey returned, he found me rubbing my fists together furiously. He dropped the load of wood he was carrying next to the fire and knelt down beside me, taking my hands in his. He examined them one at a time and tried to prise thumb away from forefinger. His touch was gentle, but my hands might have been made of stone for all the good it did.

He shook his head. “That’s bad. I don’t know if I have the skill for this,” he said in a worried voice. “Why don’t you lie down now and sleep? I’ll tend the fire and try to find something to eat.” He stood up and walked away again.

At first, I felt reluctant to sleep, even though I was tired beyond belief. I tried to “speak” to Chase, but the dog didn’t respond. My maejic must truly be gone. Still, Chase was watching me closely, and something about his manner reassured me about his master. I lay down and fell asleep almost immediately.

I awoke to the smell of cooking meat. I knew I should feel hungry, but instead the odor made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t have the strength to stand; I just rolled over and crawled a few paces away before I vomited. Not much came up, but I felt a little better once it was gone. Then I crept back to the fire. Grey looked at me and then at the rabbit he was roasting on a stick.

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to keep this down,” he said, “but you’ll have to try. I went out this morning to hunt, not camp, so I can’t do more than this. Unless you have food stashed somewhere?” I shook my head. “Well, we’ll see how it goes. I want to try to get you to my house before nightfall. We’ll need to leave soon.” He took a knife from a sheath at his hip and cut into the rabbit. He sliced off a small piece and handed it to me. I reached out for it before I remembered about my hands. He frowned as he looked at my fist, then he looked at the meat, then at me. With a small, apologetic shrug, he held the meat to my mouth. I blushed, but there was nothing to be done but to accept his offer.

I ate what I could, which wasn’t much, then Grey doused the fire. He helped me to my feet, and I took a few halting steps. How far was it to Grey’s house, and could I actually make it there?

I stumbled along as best I could, but I never would have made it under my own power. Most of the way, I leaned heavily on Grey for support, and in the end, he had to carry me the last bit.

I scarcely noticed when he set me on a low pallet and covered me with furs. My last conscious thought was that it was nice to be so comfortable and warm before I died.

On the cusp of a new dawn, I can’t help but think of those who turned away from us. Fools! True, most didn’t survive a month beyond leaving us. How deluded they were to think they could simply turn their backs on us with impunity.

But there were those who had sufficient power to hide themselves. So sure in their self-righteousness that we would be defeated in the end. How they will tremble when they learn of their error.

And as our power waxes stronger than ever, we shall root them out. Traitors! They will certainly die a most painful and lingering death. And I shall relish watching.