CHAPTER THIRTY NINE: DANGERS IN THE DARK
The Igrar's jaws surged towards Calin. The adrenalin pulsed through him in fear. The moment seemed to slow down. The plan after getting Christoff out of danger never even crossed his mind after he had assaulted the beast. Now, his own life was in danger.
Without thinking, Calin slammed his knee up; stopping the movement of the reeking creature, even if it was only for a second. A searing pain shot through his leg. With a yell of pain, he realized the Igrar was clawing its way past his leg, just to get it out of the way of its prey.
Desperately Calin pressed with his hands on the things scaly skin to keep it away. The pain was bad in his leg but there was no time to worry about the damage as the rows of teeth kept inching closer to his face. The smell coming from the maw was almost overpowering, like rotting meat. Within seconds his face was only mere centimetres away from it.
Nothing he could do was going to stop the thing, he wasn’t strong enough. The maw was about to take a bite out of him. In a futile effort, he tried to press as far back into the wood behind him as he could, but it didn’t give him any more space.
Blood spurted from the Igrar’s neck, as a glowing blade came slamming through the neck of the ugly thing.
The sharp glimmering tip edged through and dipped into Calin's skin below, if only barely. He yelped, but when the Igrar roared with the pain and reared, Calin spotted Kara on top of it. He tried to crawl from under the thing, but one of the Igrar's claws was lodged onto his ankle. It was twisted. How bad the damage was, was uncertain, but that had to wait.
The creature was placing Kara in danger with its wild jerking. The girl was holding on for her life. Then his ankle slipped free and he rolled to his own sword and swung heavily at the rearing head. The blade sunk into flesh; it almost made him pause as the sickly feeling made his body recoil, but the thought of the monster endangering his friend crashed in. And Calin screamed before punching the sword with all his force deeper. With the final thrust, the Igrar seemed to become slower.
The creature fell backwards, moments away from falling off the carriage. His sword slipped from the fatal wound and Calin watched as Kara went with it, her face pale with fear.
He jumped to reach her, but she was too far. Everything sped up as the body of the Igrar with Kara in tow, went crashing to the fast moving ground with great force.
"KARA!” Calin screamed
It was too late. He spotted her lying deathly still in the dust cloud; the dead body of the Igrar obscuring most of her.
Too many emotions coiled in Calin’s stomach as he watched in horror. There was no movement in the girl lying on the ground. The caravan was moving at a great pace away from the scene. Nervously Calin tested his slightly sprained ankle; it was still tender, but he had to go to Kara. He took a deep breath and was about to jump off the fast moving caravan, but paused when a wounded voice came from his side. “Don’t... it’s too dangerous.”
Calin spun on the man, Christoff was sitting there full of bite marks in a half moon over his waist and upper leg. The damage would have been much more severe if he hadn’t shown up in rescue. But it didn’t excuse the man to stop him from going to Kara. But then the wounded man pointed to where the girl was lying.
To Calin’s utter relief, Kara was on her knees, the blood covered sword in her hand. She looked battered and was full of dust and dirt. It hid the extent of her wounds. But before Calin could again try and dismount the fast moving carriage, he spotted another Floating Caravan swing towards her. Jerry hung from the side and with Tyas’ help they urged Kara to run. With a little stumbling she managed the feat and jumped and in a swift movement they hauled the girl on board.
Relief burst forth in Calin with the rescue and for the first time he stumbled over his strained ankle. It made him realize why Christoff had stopped him. He would’ve been a sitting duck. Not even able to get to Kara, never mind trying to jump onto the next carriage.
Tall sandstone walls on both sides blocked out the last of the light completely as they entered the delta. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky. Through it all, the other carriages seemed to take different routes in the delta. In moments, there were none of the remaining carriages behind Mictoria’s caravan.
Even though he hated to admit the fact, he nodded thanks to the wounded man. Calin was on his way to see if he could help Christoff, but the man grunted and waved at him. “No... I’ll be fine... you have to protect Mictoria.”
Calin realized then that Kara had used Mictoria’s sword to get the Igrar off of him.
Without thinking, he sheathed his sword and launched himself up the ladder, ignoring the pain in his ankle.
***
Up top everything was in chaos. There were at least ten Igri circling Mictoria, one or two were hanging from her body. And more would come. Calin propelled himself toward the gypsy woman, who was swatting at the Igri while trying to steer the carriage without aid from Christoff on the rudder. A shriek from the woman was quickly followed by the caravan hitting the rocky wall.
The knock sent Calin sprawling over the side of the carriage. Pain lanced through his arm as the leather strap that saved him dug painfully into his arm. As he tried to pull himself up the sounds of Mictoria’s desperation was starting to permeate the air, she was in real danger. The sharp clicks of the Igri making attacks on the gypsy made Calin’s blood boil.
His muscles strained with the effort to pull himself up. It seemed like ages before he finally fell on top of the roof with a huff. His breathing came in laboured shudders, but he summoned on his reserves and crawled towards the woman.
Having learned his lesson, Calin grabbed the closest Igri on the gypsy by its neck and snapped it. He did the same to three more before one landed on him and snapped a bit of flesh from the back of his neck. It was just a tiny bit, but it still hurt.
With a painful yelp, he grabbed at the thing and flung it away. He glanced back to Mictoria and the snow white skin of her cheeks were full of cuts and bruises.
The small drops of blood looked like her full red lips against her pale skin. But with the little bit of freedom he had given her, she was driving the caravan at a break neck speed through the narrow canyon.
The next Igri came lunging down. With rolled up sleeves, Calin drew his sword out as fast as he could and not for the first time he wished he was more efficient at wielding the weapon.
To his dismay five more came diving at him. He dragged in the deepest breath he could, before the flying terrors struck. It was a small hope that they came at him rather than the only driver, but the pain of the stinging bites started raining down on him and he forgot about everything except swinging the sword.
Slowly, the sickening realization settled on him. He was being overwhelmed. But he trusted in Mictoria getting them away. At least the large Igrars seemed to have fallen behind.
Calin swung high clipping one of the Igri, but got four more tiny slashes on his forearms. To his dismay, they seemed to have taken a liking to his flesh. His arms were tiring and he didn’t know if he could do it much longer. But then someone shouted off to the front. “TREES!”
Calin stole a glance even if it was at the price of another stinging bite. There not far ahead were trees on the side of a relatively narrow path.
What the trees could possibly bring to the situation of being attacked was an impossible notion to understand. Calin did not even start banking on the idea. He did whatever he could to keep those things off of him and Mictoria. But he was failing to hit, more and more, as his swings started coming in slower. Less and less of the Igri were falling to his blade. His gaze was getting blurry as his own blood was dripping down his brow. Worse, it was almost completely dark now.
Then they hit the trees.
Nothing happened. The Igri were still biting into his flesh, he swatted at them with his last remaining strength, but his arms moved too sluggishly.
Through it all his limbs burned from all the superficial wounds and he dropped to his knees in exhaustion.
While still attempting to swing the increasing weight of the sword, he missed again and the blade slipped from his grasp, his hand unable to grip it anymore.
“Mictoria... I can’t... what should we do?”
The woman ignored the two Igri biting at her and just stamped down on the paddle next to him. She looked at him, determination etched in her eyes as she yelled, “Just ... a bit further, hold on Nísir!”
Calin had no choice but to believe her. A growl escaped his lips to bring some life back into his tiring arms as he got the resolve to do what was necessary. He grabbed an Igri out of the air and flung it into the now dark landscape that encompassed them. A punch to another sent it crunching into the wood at his knees.
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Stings still rained on his exposed arms, but he ignored them. Three more lunged at his face and his eyes widened at the attack.
The caravan crashed into thick glowing things. Calin was flung onto his back. His head barely missed the railing, but still hitting it hard on the wood of the roof.
High pitch shrieks filled the air and then there was only quiet. Dazedly, Calin laid there expecting the next attacks, but strangely no more sounds of wings filled the air. No more bites. He fumbled around for his sword and with gritted teeth raised it as his gaze cast anxious glances around, but nothing came.
Calin laid there, not really comprehending what had happened. All he could see was light everywhere around him, a turquoise light. He focused his eyes and the thick branches with their glowing leaves came into view; A Morning tree.
Then a face shifted into his field of vision. Mictoria was smiling at him, her eyes showed concern.
“Nísir, are you alright?” She asked.
His breath blew out of his lungs as he let go of his held up breath and smiled at Mictoria and said, “Yes, I think so... did we make it?”
“We did,” She said softly. “Thank you for coming to help me, Nísir. Without you I wouldn’t have been able to get us to the Morning trees.”
Calin winked his bloody eye at her and said, “You are welcome... Actually now that I think about it, I probably have to thank you. You saved me from the poison of the bite.”
The gypsy woman just chuckled, but then a frown covered her face as she sat back.
“What happened to Christoff and Madam Kara Nísir?” She asked.
Calin slowly raised himself up and said, “Christoff is hurt, but I think he will be fine. Kara though... she fell off the carriage with her sword stuck in an Igrar. But she was picked up by my friends.”
“Then I’ll go tend to Christoff in a few minutes,” she said acknowledging the fact, there was a reason behind what she said; her eyes carried many questions. But the gypsy woman just stood up and shouted into the trees. “Ta-Reen! Are your people alive?”
The shout faded into the trees, but a shout came back from somewhere outside the Morning trees. “Yes, we are. We took some hits but everyone seems fine, you?”
“Yes,” Mictoria told them that they were, and then she turned back to Calin and said, “Nísir, let’s get down and tend to our wounds.”
It was an easy decision to follow her as he nodded vigorously. With more than a little effort he followed her through the trap door.
***
When Calin got to the bottom, Mictoria was picking up the white stone that had tumbled from his chest when he had woken up from the intense visions. His curiosity peaked as he asked, “What is that?”
The gypsy seemed deep in thought as she ignored his question and asked her own.
“What happened to you in there Nísir?” The look on her face was deeply troubled. Calin paused, he hardly knew himself. But he opened his mouth to speak when Mictoria shook her head heavily and wandered off to her potions cabinet.
“Forgive me Nísir, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s a much too personal thing to ask... it’s just that nothing like what happened to you has ever happened before. It was as if you were being dragged deeper in than any of us has gone. I wish... no sorry Nísir.” She sat down on a chair and drew another one closer and patted it. “Come sit.”
Even though the woman had a small smile on her face, Calin was certain she was still worried.
“I will tell you what happened,” Calin said. “But then I have questions of my own. Too many in fact... but I need to know.”
The woman watched him carefully, but after a thick pause, she nodded. She started dabbing his wounds with something that stung, but then again it soothed the worst of it.
Taking a deep breath Calin said, “I saw the fire, but when I approached, everything turned upside down and I was falling. I could see you and Kara talking, that something was wrong, but I kept falling deeper and deeper; it was only when you placed that white rock on me that I was thrown into another, yet completely different vision... but it wasn’t a vision. It was ... I really don’t know.” Calin wanted to throw up his hands in exasperation, but he took control of himself and breathed deeply before looking up.
Mictoria’s eyes were wide, but he pushed the fact aside and asked, “What is that white stone anyway?”
The woman had returned to dabbing the last of his wounds and binding small bandages around them, her hands shook slightly and he didn’t exactly know why.
After long minutes, Mictoria took a deep breath and without making eye contact, she said,
“Nísir, you have to understand, I thought you were dying. I had to use it, to help you touch the fire inside you.”
Confused, Calin studied the gypsy. There was something that she was afraid he would judge her for. But what, he couldn’t imagine. He opted for the gentler path and said,
“Mictoria I’m not like the people you are used to seeing. I didn’t even know that there were things like these Morning trees until two days ago. Everything in these lands is new to me. So you can tell me, I’m just curious.” Calin breathed out and mumbled the last part, “Besides I never could touch the fire. I just woke up in an explosive manner in the end.”
Shock came over the woman’s face and a frown. But then a slight tug of her lips suggested it was more unbelief than anything else. Calin just sat still, waiting for her to speak.
After a moment she said, “Nísir, I find that very hard to believe. You killed a Nighthound! Few people have ever seen one, much less got attacked and survived to tell the tale; and to kill one? No. I don’t believe that you don’t know these lands, Nísir. Whatever the truth, you helped me, so I will tell you. I... I used—”
The locked door burst open.
Pieces of wood flew across the room with the intrusion. Three men stormed into the room.
The first two were unknown to Calin, but when the third one entered, he recognized the hat. It was the man on the cliff. Calin jumped up unsheathing his sword. “It was you who threw those rocks down the cliffs, waking the Igri!”
Mictoria was up on her feet as well, ready to demand an explanation, but at Calin’s accusation she paused and quickly asked,
“Nísir, what are you talking abou—” But the man with the hat threw off his brown cloak and chuckled.
“You certainly are a bright one. I can see why they wanted me to come get you personally.”
Uncertainty snuck into Calin’s stomach. Who are these men, why do they want me? Before he could press for an answer, Mictoria demanded in a loud voice. “What, by the silver sands is going on?! How dare you barge into my caravan uninvited?”
Behind the three men, another man entered. It was clear it was Ta-Reen as the man slowly strode forward, an arrogant confidence oozed from him as he said,
“I invited them in Mictoria.”
Calin glanced at the gypsy woman; her face got redder and redder with anger every second that passed.
“What do they want Ta-Reen?” Mictoria’s voice was harsh.
The older gypsy smiled while drawing on his leather cuffs and said,
“The boy of course.”
With that, Calin’s eyes went wide. He gripped his sword tighter, fearful that it would leave his side.
The strength in Mictoria’s voice broke down just a bit as she started, “What do you mea—”
But she was interrupted as two of the men jumped forward, catching Calin by surprise, disarming him without him even realizing what had happened. He stared at his sword, now in one of the strangers hands, as if the sword betrayed him by leaving his hand.
The next instant, Calin’s arms pulled back with a force as one of the men grabbed him and bound his hands behind his back. His knees dug painfully into the hard wooden floor.
Fear washed over him, as his eyes pleaded with Mictoria to tell him what was going on. But, pure shock ran over the gypsy woman and then her anger boiled over as she lunged forward at the man holding him.
But the man with the hat and one of his goons quickly jumped in and gripped her arms so she couldn’t do anything. But that didn’t stop the small gypsy as her feet came off the ground and kicked the man behind Calin in the face.
The only noise was that of a foot connecting with a skull and the hard collapse of the man behind him. There was no need for incentive as Calin scrambled towards the door and jumped through it.
He was still in the air when he got jerked back through the door heavily and the hard floor punched hard into his hips.
A little bit dazed, Calin looked up to find Ta-Reen grinning over him. The older gypsy dragged him to his knees only to hit him back down again. The gypsy knelt down.
It was clear the man had seen his fair share of fights. His pale white face adorned many small scars apart from the bigger one on his cheek.
Ta-Reen sneered at him and whispered harshly, “Try that again and someone else is going to get hurt because of you. Do you understand me?”
Fear gripped Calin as he looked up. And with a sense of defeat he nodded reluctantly.
Mictoria wasn’t so passive. The woman jerked wildly in her captors arms shouting obscenities in her language. She got in a few elbows in a just a few seconds. Their bloody noses and a few bruises the only evidence.
Then as Calin got dragged back up, Mictoria looked straight at Ta-Reen, fierce anger in her eyes.
“Ta-Reen,” she said through gritted teeth, “You would dare disregard our sacred oath? Nísir Calin is our guest. You have the nerve to go against everything we are? Explain yourself, you Slavvrri.”
At that last word, Ta-Reen got a cruel look on his face as he growled.
Calin anticipated another hit and cringed, but it never came. Ta-Reen hissed at his leader.
“I dare because I must. It is because of your infuriating family that our race is now weak. Even the mightiest rulers on Sambria would bow to our will if we didn’t become as restless and disordered in our traditions. This must and will change.”
If Ta-Reen was in range, it was sure Mictoria would have spat at the older gypsy. Instead she loudly hissed,
“If you take him against his will... I swear by the silver oasis, I will hunt you down for this... this absolute deras — betrayal.”
“You can try,” Ta-Reen said with a cold smile, “But you’ll never get close.”
The gypsy woman screamed at the man and started growling words in their language. Through her struggles Calin looked at Mictoria and was scared she would get hurt because of him; he didn’t want that.
Surprisingly, after a moment she got quiet and a few seconds passed before she turned her gaze on him and said in a cracking voice. “Nísir Calin, I will and I swear to you, I will get you away from them—”
Ta-Reen must have had enough as he barked,
“Mictoria, I will let you watch as I change our race back into the mighty rulers they were. It has already started.”
After that, he ordered the men holding Mictoria to bind her hands behind her back and to quickly disable her caravan. Then Ta-Reen got this impatient look as he told his henchmen.
“And if you are not finished with the bindings by the time I get the boy to the other caravan I will maim you and leave you for the Igri out in the dark.”
The man with the hat came over to take hold of his rope. The lack of hair and the hint of a tattoo under that hat suddenly sent a shiver up Calin’s back. It was one of them. The people with the crimson suns.
Then he got dragged out of the caravan into the light of the Morning trees. On the outside, movement briefly caught his eye on the left. With a glance, he marked Christoff standing there with a sword, but the man looked limp with a grimace on his face. Calin desperately tried to communicate with a fierce but quick shake of his head that the man should hide. He would only get hurt more badly in his current condition.
Luckily, it must have worked as the tension left Christoff’s shoulders and the man disappeared behind the caravan.
It wasn’t a second too soon, as the man with the hat stepped outside. Calin wanted to sigh with relief that Christoff had been missed, but just then he spotted the other caravan, the one that had led them.
Anxiety struck him. Evany had been on that one. He tried to rush forward as he called, “Evany! Evany?” But no answer came as he was jerked back by the rope from his bindings. With sudden determination he spun on the man with the hat and ran his head into the man’s stomach.
The man grunted and fell down. Free, Calin scrambled to the other carriage to see if he could find Evany.
She had to be safe. She was his to protect. He owed her far too much.
Reaching the caravan, he squinted through the cracks, but it was pitch black inside. Swiftly, he moved to the door but he realized it was locked. He shoved hard at it but it wouldn’t budge.There had to be another way in.
A blow struck his head, hard.
Everything went black.