The threesome moved as quickly as they could along the edge of the forest, though their pace was still uncomfortably slow, and the sounds of the fight going on behind them were still frighteningly loud.
Erin’s leg was throbbing with pain, and she was limping heavily, besides being rather unsteady because of the recent blows to her head. She was also exhausted and freezing cold.
Stumbling along behind her two companions through the thick fog seemed uncannily like being pushed by Wraith through the storm—the same never-ending nightmare, only it was even more miserable now.
She wondered if the cloaked figure in front of her was Wraith. It seemed like it must be, although she couldn’t understand why Arturyn could be leaning against him like that when no one else had even been able to see him.
But then, Arturyn could use magic. Maybe that was the difference?
Erin’s thoughts swirled muddily as she trudged along. The ground beneath them was gradually sloping downward. After what seemed like a small eternity, she caught a glimpse of glistening darkness not far below them, and heard the soft sound of water lapping against rock.
The roars and shouts had finally died away, though whether that was because of fog and distance or because one side had managed to defeat the other, Erin didn’t know. Their rescuer seemed to think the lack of noise was a cause for some concern, however, because their pace had quickened.
Erin looked around, wondering if a group of Mataiths would suddenly jump out at them. She couldn’t see anything but fog and the tall shadows that were the trees of the forest.
The cloaked figure turned suddenly to the right and led them directly toward the lake. Erin followed, feeling perplexed.
They had come off the cliff completely now, and she felt the ground beneath her feet soften into what was probably sand. They must be right on the shore of the lake. Maybe their mysterious companion wanted water to wash their wounds. It seemed like a good enough idea—albeit a cold one.
Then Erin heard a splashing sound in front of her and realized that the other two had just stepped into the water. They were heading out into the lake.
She stopped walking, which she realized too late was probably a mistake because she might not be able to start again. She felt close to collapsing. But she wasn’t so groggy from pain and fatigue that she was willing to walk straight into a lake without question. It was quite a large lake. And the water looked very cold.
The sound of splashing had stopped. Erin realized with a jolt that her companions were far enough ahead of her that she couldn’t see their outlines through the thick fog any longer. Feeling a little panicky, she stared around, searching for them. She didn’t dare to move on by herself. But what if they hadn’t realized she had stopped? What if the reason she couldn’t hear them was because they were already too far away?
Then a sound drifted back to her through the mist. “They can’t…come…into…the water….” It was Arturyn’s voice, sounding close but alarmingly weak and faint, so that she had to strain to catch the words. “It’s…the only place…we can…be safe….”
Erin remembered him telling her to get into the river back at Celadrier and the howls of pain from the Mataiths he had sent flying into the water. Finally understanding, and feeling immensely relieved that they hadn’t left her alone, Erin stepped into the icy water and moved carefully in the direction of Arturyn’s voice.
In a moment, she could see them again, standing still and waiting for her to catch up. As she drew level with them, a hand reached out from under the cloak and took hold of hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Together, they started walking again, their legs sloshing faintly as they moved through the shallow water.
Erin soon realized that they weren’t going out into the middle of the lake after all. Instead, they turned back in the direction they had come, following the cliff wall, which soon had ascended above their heads. The water came up nearly to Erin’s waist but rose no higher. Her feet and legs were numb with cold, and only the guidance of their mysterious companion, who kept a steady hand on her shoulder, prevented her from losing her balance and falling on the slippery rocks beneath their feet.
Just when Erin was certain that her legs were going to give out on her at any second, they halted, and a gentle pressure on her shoulder told her to turn and move closer to the cliff face. The moon had risen high enough now that the bottom of the rock wall was in shadow, and she couldn’t see anything there worth altering their course. But, having no better options and feeling too tired to argue in any case, she moved obediently forward, stretching out a hand to feel for the rock in front of her.
She didn’t feel anything.
To Erin’s surprise, they kept on walking into the side of the cliff. She felt the floor slope upwards and was relieved to feel the water becoming shallower until they were finally on dry ground. There they stopped, and Erin felt the hand on her shoulder lift.
It was pitch black, and she stood very still, not sure what to do. She could hear sounds of movement next to her.
Then a light flared, and Erin blinked, her eyes smarting in the sudden brightness. After they had had a moment to adjust, she could see that they were in a small cave inside the cliff wall. A fire had been lit in the middle of the cave floor, and the cloaked figure was lowering Arturyn to sit against the wall close to it.
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Then the figure straightened, turned towards Erin, and raised a hand to pull down its hood.
“Kirchel!” The word left Erin’s throat sounding like something between a sob and a croak.
Before she even realized what she was doing, she had staggered forward and collapsed against her cousin, sobbing. Kirchel put her arms around Erin and held her tightly as she cried, one hand gently stroking her hair.
“It’s all right, Erin,” she whispered soothingly. “You’re safe now. Everything’s all right.”
“Kirchel?”
Erin raised her head slightly from Kirchel’s shoulder to look at Arturyn. Kirchel, too, had turned her head toward him. There had been an odd note in his voice when he said her name, and now he was staring at her, as though unable to believe that she was really there.
“Len tineldur, Arturyn,” Kirchel said quietly.
Erin looked from one to the other. “You two…know each other?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yes,” Kirchel said. “We….” She hesitated, and Erin thought for a second that she saw a shadow pass over Kirchel’s face. But perhaps it was just the flickering firelight. “Well, I guess you could call us old school friends,” Kirchel finished with a faint smile.
Arturyn said nothing in response, still staring at Kirchel. Erin looked at him, trying to read his expression, but it was impossible. He hardly had enough face left to even have an expression. Half of it was still covered with a mixture of blood and dirt, and the other half was now swollen under a deep purple bruise—probably courtesy of the Mataith chief. He could still open his right eye, but only partway.
Kirchel must have been noticing his sorry condition as well because she sighed and released her hold on Erin. “Well, time to play doctor. You poor things both look terrible.”
Unfastening her cloak, she pulled it off, revealing attire much like Erin’s except that the tunic was dark grey and the pants and boots black. She also had a dark brown bag slung around her neck and over one shoulder. Kirchel wrapped the black cloak around Erin, who was still shivering with cold. She made a slight gesture with her hand, and both the cloak and Erin’s clothing were suddenly dry and warm.
“Here, sit down,” Kirchel said, helping Erin lower herself gingerly down to sit next to the fire. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
She dried her own clothing and Arturyn’s the same way she had done Erin’s. Then she took hold of Erin’s right hand. Looking at it, Erin realized for the first time that there was a thin black band encircling her wrist. She watched as Kirchel took hold of it with both hands. For a moment, there was a look of pained concentration on Kirchel’s face. Then she abruptly pulled hard on the band, and it broke apart. She pulled it off Erin’s wrist and threw it into the fire, which flared up momentarily and then settled again.
“What was that?” Erin asked. With the removal of the band, she felt slightly different, as though she were somehow more alive than before.
“A fálas bond,” Kirchel replied, now removing the strap of her bag from around her neck. “But fortunately not a very strong one. They prevent a person from using magic. I took Arturyn’s off back at the camp, but I didn’t think about yours until just now. Of course, you probably barely noticed the difference, not being trained in magic.” She set her bag on the ground and opened the top flap. Then she pulled a smaller bag from inside, which she handed to Arturyn. “This is yours, I believe.”
He took it from her, his slit of an eye widening slightly as he looked at it. “You found it in Celadrier?”
“Yes. That’s when I realized who it was Erin had met up with, hard as it was to believe. And looking at the state of the village, it wasn't hard to figure out what must have happened to the two of you.” A look of concern came over Kirchel’s face. “I’m just glad I found you soon enough to keep much more from happening to you,” she added quietly.
“You knew I’d met up with someone?” Erin asked, puzzled.
Kirchel nodded, now bending over her bag again and pulling out a large roll of bandages and several jars and tins. “The sethien told me,” she said impassively, as though asking a bloodthirsty monster for information were the most natural thing in the world. “She couldn’t tell me exactly where you had gone, but she knew there were two of you. I guessed you would head towards the nearest village, and she helped me track you from there. And then, of course, she distracted the Mataiths while I got you away from the camp.”
Erin stared at her. “That thing tried to kill us! And it helped you? It talked to you?”
“She has an unusual gift with animals,” Arturyn said. His voice was stronger now that he’d had a few minutes of rest. “Surely you’ve noticed that?”
“Well, I know she can train peacocks, but that’s a far cry from turning a sethien into an obedient little bloodhound.”
“Not really,” Kirchel said absently, digging through her bag again. “I mean, it’s the same basic principle, isn’t it? Ah, here it is.” She pulled out a fat brown jar, twisting off the lid to reveal a pale blue cream that shimmered in the firelight. “I think I’ll work on her first, if that’s all right,” she said to Arturyn. “It shouldn’t take that long, and then she can get some sleep, and I can give you my full attention.”
“Oh, no hurry,” Arturyn said, a faint smile playing across his bruised and bloodied face. “Is there anything you need that I might have?” He opened the top of his small bag.
Kirchel frowned slightly, apparently thinking. “There might be. I have a pretty good supply here, but I wasn’t expecting Mataiths. I might need a few more things—especially for you. Oh, and we’ll need some food and bedding, I guess. I don’t have much of that. We’ll have to stay here the night, at least. Possibly longer if you aren’t well enough to travel by morning. Or if there are still Mataiths around.”
While Kirchel applied a combination of blue cream and what looked like dried and crushed leaves to the cuts and bruises on Erin’s face, Erin watched in amazement as Arturyn pulled three long cylindrical objects out of his bag, one after the other. They were a light greyish color and were about six inches wide and between three and four feet long. These were followed by three slightly fatter and shorter objects that were made of a furry, light brown material and looked like they might be rolled up blankets. Setting all these on the ground next to him, he then removed three small bowls and, with some difficulty, a ceramic jug.
“I love camping out with you, Arturyn,” Kirchel said, glancing over at the pile of objects. Seeing the look on Erin’s face, she laughed. “Nice little bag of tricks he’s got there, isn’t it?”