They passed the rest of the evening with a few more stories, which Dirt and the wolves enjoyed. But the two children carried a note of anxiousness that kept them shifting in their seats or forgetting key details that the other had to remind them of. Biandina kept the Aurora Belli by her side, but never touched it. And not out of reverence, even though it was an object that even an Emperor would show respect for. It was just a sword to her, and taking it up meant imminent bloodshed. Antelmu kept such a tight grip on the Sceptrum Flammae that his knuckles ached after a while. He stopped once in mid-sentence to stretch his fingers in confusion.
It seemed they didn’t dare stop talking, either, even though their hearts weren’t in the tales they were telling, and it began to make Dirt and Socks uncomfortable on their behalf. Finally, in an act of unexpected mercy, Maxima pushed the two children to sleep with a huff. -Better for them to sleep than wait until their courage fails. They are nervous little things, aren’t they?-
-They are young, and they are just humans,- said Socks in their defense. -From what I can tell, humans usually rely on numbers for protection, and these ones do not have numbers.-
Maxima paused before replying, as if to acknowledge Socks’s point. After a moment, she said, -I watched them for many years on my borders, but I did not listen to what they said to each other. They were never worthy of much attention.-
She sniffed at the two children from where she sat, and her great lungs made the campfire flicker.
-They are more interesting than anyone realizes. I think some of my litter will find one of their own to keep, once they grow up. They all liked my little Dirt,- said Socks.
-I doubt a pet human will have the same appeal once they are grown. The opinions of pups are not worth much. You have not been alive long enough to understand the things you are learning,- said Maxima. -Your pet seems hardier than average. He will likely die when he is old, but that is not a long time. His own offspring will know you, and perhaps the next generation. But the third generation will not know him, and what they know of you will be different.-
-I think you want to save me from being sad later, but what is happening, is you are making me mad now,- said Socks. -I am not going to take anyone’s advice and get rid of him early.-
-Do as you wish, little brother. Father and Mother both permit it. I do not dislike him. He is cute and does not argue,- said Maxima. She raised her great head and set her yellow eyes on Dirt.
Familiar as Dirt was with being looked at by a wolf, it still struck a note of animal terror in his heart that he couldn’t push away. He had to ignore it instead, since it was silly and he wasn’t in any danger. -Speak, little Dirt, and tell me if these two would like beds to sleep on.-
“If it’s not too much trouble, I think they would like it. Just one for them to share so they keep warm,” said Dirt, speaking with his mind as directed.
-Do you want one as well?- she asked.
“No, not with Socks around. I’d rather sleep with him,” he replied.
-Very well. Watch, both of you. I will do it slowly, but only once.-
Fortunately, he realized what she meant just in time. He turned his inner gaze toward his mana body, and from there outward.
Maxima struck the world with her will and a flare of power ignited his mana sight, filling it with a bright spell made of surprisingly few sigils. It wasn’t quite a true perception—she was acting directly, her will itself pulling on the structure of the world. But filtered through his understanding, the operation glowed in increasing clarity. It specified an object—a bed, complete with covers, which she must be seeing nearby—and forced it into existence anew, here, by forcing the physical world to reshape itself in an expression of raw power. It took far, far more mana than he could hope to handle, but for her, it was effortless.
The bed’s heavy wooden frame didn’t even thump—it wasn’t dropped. It simply began to be, right there, a short distance from the fire. Dirt got up to inspect it, and swatting it tossed up quite a bit of dust and a faintly musty smell. But this was one of the better ones in the palace, perhaps the best preserved, and it would serve nicely. He stripped away the blankets just to make sure there wasn’t a skeleton in it, and there wasn’t.
Dirt stepped back and closed his eyes, remembering the magic as hard as he could. There were only two sigils he didn’t recognize, and the relationships were not arranged like he was used to. Even so, as long as he got a chance to try it in the next few days, he could probably figure it out.
-Show me how this is used,- commanded Maxima, so Dirt climbed into the bed, rested his head on a pillow, and pulled the covers up over his shoulder. Then he slid back out again.
The two children floated up from the ground so gently they might not have felt it if they were awake, and were put slowly into bed, lying like Dirt had demonstrated. Once Maxima released her hold on them, they breathed deep and shifted slightly, then settled in with contented looks on their sleeping faces. Dirt made sure the blankets covered enough to keep the cold air out, then snuggled in with Socks.
That night Apkallu came in the dream, watching from a distance and radiating a sense of dismay. Socks and Dirt shared a dream as they almost always did, and no matter how far they went, the fae man was somewhere nearby. Socks ignored him, though, so Dirt did the same.
Morning came early and cold. Antelmu and Biandina woke Dirt up by whispering to each other from their bed, too quietly to make out the words. Birds or water or wind might have covered the sound, but aside from the air in Socks’s cavernous lungs, it was perfectly silent.
The morning was hasty once Socks woke up, though, since he thought he might have sensed a whiff of the Devourer in the surprising cold. And it really was cold, colder than Dirt had ever experienced. The sky above was empty and blue, and the brightness of the morning made the cold feel that much more piercing. Each inhalation chilled his nose, and each breath turned to fog in the air before it vanished.
Biandina and Antelmu didn’t seem to mind the chill. When they saw Socks rise to his feet and sniff around anxiously, they climbed out of bed without complaint and got ready to leave.
“You look cold, Dirt,” said Biandina, a bit of playfulness in her voice. She must have slept really well.
“I am cold. How can you stand it? This is freezing. I think the weather is broken,” he complained.
“This is normal for winter. It’s a little early to get this cold, but it’s nothing unusual. It’s not even that bad,” she said.
He glared at her, suspecting that the thing making her feel warm, was being a little warmer than he looked. Dirt hugged his arms over his chest and tried not to shiver.
Antelmu made as if to put his pack on, but decided against it for just a moment longer. He used the time to spin the spear around and do several practice thrusts. He flicked the tip through the air in motions that Dirt thought might deflect someone else’s weapon, and then he wondered if there was a whole art to using weapons that he didn’t know about.
Biandina did the same, seeing his example. Her motions with the sword were rather unlike what Dirt expected. The knights in Ogena used chopping actions, at least against goblins, but she swung the sword in more graceful arcs and stabs. “It’s a weird length,” she declared. “Too long to use like our blades, and too short to use like a spear. Feels more like a shortspear, I think.”
“Well, you just have to hit something with the edge,” said Dirt, helpfully.
“Thank you, Dirt, I think I’ll try that,” she replied wryly.
“I’d say we should spar a little, but I’m afraid one of these will get damaged,” said Antelmu.
Dirt was about to say he was sure they wouldn’t, but was he? No, he was not sure, and losing one of them would be a tragedy, so he kept his mouth shut. Still, the sight of two barbarian youths in poofy fur clothing swinging around the Sceptrum Flammae and Aurora Belli was both shocking and hilarious to old Avitus, and Dirt grinned to himself at the conflict between horror and amusement swirling inside him.
-I want to leave now,- said Socks, and that was the end of the practicing. The pup picked up their packs and hung them on either side of his harness, then put the three of them on his back.
“Where’s Maxima?” asked Biandina, hunkering down for a run.
-Dusk and dawn are important times for wolves, at least for adults. She will meet us later.-
“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked.
-I always know where I’m going. I just don’t always know what I’ll find there.-
Socks ran with his mental shield forming a wedge in front, and that helped keep the worst of the wind off them. Even with that, Dirt had to sink his fingers as far into Socks’s fur as he could get them and keep his face down to keep from freezing to death. He spent the next hour sniffling.
Leaving the city took only a moment, and there was no trace of humanity once they left it. Back to the raw and wild hills, the thin snow and yellow grass, patches of bare gravel and earth. They ran with the sun at their backs, Socks nearly chasing his own shadow.
The pup itched to chase the deer they saw, or go sniff at the large brown creature peeking at them from halfway up a tree, but this was not the time. Exploration of his siblings’ territory was at an end, and only one task remained before they were to leave.
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Later in the morning, when Dirt thought he might survive the cold, he got up and lay against Socks’s neck, resting his arms on the pup’s head. They shared their senses of sight and smell, quieting their minds and focusing to keep from getting dizzy. It was not until past noon, however, that Socks finally caught a whiff of their prey. It was a complex scent, somewhat feline and insectoid at the same time. Strangely, it was a fully-developed scent. The thing they smelled was a female, mature enough to mate and in good health.
Then Socks caught the scent of a second one, and a third. He slowed while Dirt scanned the horizon with his human eyes. It was not what either of them were expecting. Half-dead things did not smell healthy and fertile.
-Sister, is this the right prey?- Socks asked, sending his thoughts out into the distance.
-If an abomination breeds and bears young, its young are alive. Some abominations rest unchanging until they are disturbed, but not all,- came Maxima’s reply. Dirt rolled that over in his mind, taking it in, while Socks simply accepted it.
“What’s going on?” asked Biandina.
-There is more than one, and they are not far,- said Socks.
Socks slowed and licked his nose to feel the wind, but the air wasn’t moving. No wind at all. That meant either the creatures had been here recently, or they were even closer than he thought. He sniffed the ground, checking everywhere for traces, but found nothing. The scent was in the air, not on the ground.
Maxima’s voice spoke in their minds. -I am watching. Find one for the humans to kill, and then you may handle the rest.-
“Great one, if Antelmu and I can kill one by ourselves, I hope you will remember that humans can be useful sometimes too, and maybe—” said Biandina aloud.
But Maxima interrupted her and said, -Do not seek to counsel me.- But there was a sense of something more, something left unsaid for Biandina to intuit on her own.
Antelmu whispered, “Show me what you are.”
“Yeah,” said Biandina.
Dirt agreed. That felt right. But he wasn’t happy about it, because if they were proving themselves, then he shouldn’t help, and they had no experience with this sort of thing. Biandina’s earlier encounter with the birds hadn’t ended well for her.
-Don’t watch,- said Socks, just to Dirt. Dirt nodded and severed their connected vision and smell, then made sure to keep his mind sight elsewhere. Once he was sure it wouldn’t hurt Dirt’s little human brain, Socks peered out with his ghost sight, taking in a larger and larger radius of the landscape all at once.
He started moving again, circling to the left to head up behind some hard-barked trees with no leaves, growing tightly together. A bit farther and they found a small stream, running quickly through a narrow bed. Socks followed that for several minutes as the gentle hills grew rockier and more pronounced.
He stopped, and ahead, the stream ended at a small pool nestled in the shade of a natural cavern, just taller than Socks was.
They heard it now. The beast was in there, likely resting in some sort of nest. It made a clicking sort of purr, a wrong sound, an unpleasant one. Loud and sharp and steady, but rhythmic, like breathing.
Dirt looked for traces and found them. Strands of fur snagged on a branch, tracks in the snow. No droppings, which was curious. That meant it was smart enough to care about keeping its area clean.
Only then did he remember to open his mind sight. The creature was not half-dead, nor did it seem particularly abominable. The light of its mind made it look just a bit smarter than a goblin. That was still plenty intelligent to be dangerous, though. It knew the wolf was here but had smelled that scent before and never been harmed. It was watching patiently to see if something was about to enter its lair.
Socks moved closer, padding silently along the noisy stream until they were no more than twenty paces from the wide cleft in the rock. Then he lowered himself so the humans could slide off.
-It is in there. Do not die, little humans,- said Socks.
They both froze for a moment and gripped their weapons tighter. Antelmu held his spear forward in both hands, and Biandina let the sword rest across her shoulders in a way that looked ready for a downward strike. Dirt looked at their minds, and both of them were steeling themselves for a fight to the death.
Socks would save their lives, if it came to that. He hadn’t said otherwise, even if they thought he did. But Dirt agreed this was for the best. If they wanted to impress Maxima, they had to take it seriously.
They were both clearly terrified. They radiated it in every motion and posture. He could hear them breathing in a rapid staccato. Dirt jumped down and ran up the side of the rock face, stopping where he could peer down. Their fear was making him nervous. He drew his knife and got ready to jump down there, just in case.
The cavern was decently spacious, roughly the size of his villa and garden, and open to the sky at the ceiling. The stream arose from a spring in the center, which formed a small pond. Because the area was circular and the center couldn’t be crossed, there would be no pinning the creature against the wall.
The two children stopped right at the entrance, where they’d have to step over the stream to keep going. Dirt watched them struggle to take just one more step and keep going.
“I love you, brother,” said Biandina softly.
“I love you too,” said Antelmu, voiceless.
In they went.
In the bright afternoon sunlight, no shadow could hide something like the beast that lay waiting down there. Its fur was too yellow, for a start. Hearing the children enter its domain, it rose and readied itself, giving Dirt a full view. About the size of a gryphon, its human face was the first thing that grabbed him, and he couldn’t look away. It wasn’t properly formed, more like a goblin’s than a human's, but oversized to match the rest of its body. An over-wide mouth full of jagged black teeth gaped open beneath tilted, watery eyes. Its pointed tongue licked the air as if tasting their scent, and for all he knew, it was.
Yellow fur covered the rest of it, apart from long, fleshy spines that rose from its front shoulders. They reminded him of featherless wings, twisted and bony, until the creature stretched them out to full length, and then they looked more like arms. Each had a sharp pincer on the end, which clacked noisily. Its tail was also bare, skin-colored and long, with a spine on the end.
It gave a low growl, clicky and strange, and flicked its tail toward Biandina, sending a thin splash of fluid. She leaped skittishly out of the way and it landed on the wet ground. Only a few heartbeats later, Dirt could smell it, and he was sure it was poison.
“One two one!” shouted Biandina, which Dirt assumed meant some sort of battle cadence. A plan.
“I know!” squealed Antelmu. He sounded so scared Dirt was surprised he was moving at all.
The creature spoke, gnashing its jaws, but the sounds were all gibberish. Not even words he didn’t know—it didn’t sound like language at all. Its voice was all raspy, with unconnected clicks and groans. It switched its gaze between the two, back and forth.
“Now!” she screamed, and charged forward, sword raised and ready.
Antelmu ran with weak knees the first few steps, but he was only one step slower. Exactly one step, and running slightly to the side.
Whatever plan they had in mind was immediately disrupted when the creature opened its mouth and made an ear-splitting popping sound, so loud it made Dirt’s ears ring. Biandina cried out in pain and stumbled, and the creature chose that exact moment to dart forward and strike with a pincer. Antelmu swung his spear like a staff but didn’t connect.
It turned to Antelmu and made another pop and Antelmu cried out. Blood dripped out both ears and his nose, and the pain almost undid him. The creature struck with its spiked tail right for the boy’s stomach, but Antelmu turned slightly, perhaps on instinct, and his shirt got punched through instead of his guts.
The fight began in earnest. Biandina swung the sword in long, wide arc to drive the creature back, and it hissed and snapped at her and clacked its pincers. Antelmu struggled to regain his composure, but he couldn’t let Biandina fight alone. “I can’t hear!” he shouted, too loud.
She didn’t react, not in the least.
He stepped forward and jabbed the spearhead forward at full length, catching in the fur of the creature’s neck. In the exact moment it reacted, Biandina jabbed her sword for its neck, but missed, and stabbed deep into its shoulder, halfway to the hilt.
The beast went wild, leaping forward to crush Antelmu beneath its spiked hooves, but he circled hastily to the side.
Biandina stabbed it again, behind the shoulder this time, hopefully deep enough to hit the lungs. It didn’t react, lost in frenzy. It shot its pincers at her, and one clipped her on the side of the head, the other catching her empty sleeve. She bled profusely from a long gash above her ear, but wasn’t dazed.
Antelmu gave a quick strike, stabbing at its neck and it turned to catch him in its jaws. It missed and instantly turned to bite Biandina instead. Antelmu took both hands and stabbed it clean through, punching the broad spearhead out the other side of its rib cage.
Biandina tried to step away from its jaws, but stumbled and fell. Only a quick roll saved her life as it tried to crush her beneath its hooves.
It jumped and spun halfway around, and Antelmu lost his grip on the spear and stepped back, then farther, disarmed and helpless.
The beast stabbed its tail for him, but he was just out of reach. Barely. A tiny spurt of poison landed on his shirt.
Then it stabbed for Biandina, and she rolled once, but was too slow the second time. The creature’s poison spike caught her in the calf, just under the knee. She screamed. It withdrew the spike and stabbed again, but this time she had the sword ready and deflected it, then, severed it with a simple swing.
She stood, favoring her injured leg severely, and the thing slowed, breathing hard. Blood dripped from its open mouth and its eyes began to lose their menace. Antelmu saw an opening and went for the spear. He yanked it but didn’t get it all the way out.
The beast shot a pincer down and caught one arm at the wrist, and an effortless snap took the boy’s hand clean off. It didn’t even make a bone-crunching sound.
Antelmu gave a keening whine of despair, but didn’t give up. He pulled the spear the rest of the way with his left hand, then stabbed at its face, weakly.
Biandina got the last strike. She plunged the sword up under its jaw, stabbing effortlessly through bone directly into its brain. It went limp and collapsed on top of both of them.
Socks and Dirt got there at the same time. Socks lifted the beast away with his mind, tossing its corpse maliciously against the side of the cavern.
Neither Antelmu nor Biandina got back up. They were both alive and aware, but what was the point?
Antelmu said “Hello?” louder and louder, then finally succumbed to the pain and shock of deafness and started crying with closed eyes.
Biandina struggled and twisted, reaching helplessly for her poisoned leg, hoping the pain would stop. It didn’t, and she choked back sobs with an angry look in her eyes.
First things first. Dirt found Antelmu’s hand and pulled the boy’s sleeve up, and Socks licked the wound to reconnect it. The flesh rejoined, although loosely; it would need a brace, and the bone would need much longer to heal. -Do not move your arm, little Antelmu,- said Socks. Then he licked the boy’s face, pushing his head side to side with his tongue, and licked his ears.
Dirt only needed one glance to see how bad Biandina’s leg was. He wasted no time and sliced the pant leg off just above the knee, and urged her to roll to her side so Socks could lick the wound. It was already puffy and red and oozing unpleasant juices, and the odor of it was terrifying.
-Do not lick that or you will ingest poison,- said Maxima. Her shadow fell over them from above and she slid silently into the cavern, making it much more crowded.
-I do not want her to die. You must help her,- said Socks. He licked the gash above her ear, then both sides of her head to return her hearing.
Maxima’s nose rested above her, sniffing the suffering girl. She asked, -Were you willing to die today, little creature?-
Biandina breathed heavily gasping for air. She struggled to answer through the pain. “If I had to,” she said.
-Why?-
“I don’t know. I thought I could help,” she groaned.
-Help what?-
“Help… him. And maybe… my… tribe,” she said, gesturing at her brother. “And I don’t wan… want to be useless.”
-Do you feel you have shown courage today?- asked Maxima.
Biandina opened her eyes and glared right back up at the wolf and said, “Yes!”
The wolf huffed in amusement and glanced down at the girl’s leg. The edges of the wound were turning purple, and threads of red were worming out into the skin.
Out of nowhere, the girl’s leg came off, severed cleanly a hand’s width above the knee. Maxima tossed the poisoned limb away with her mind and licked the wound shut herself. It took Biandina a moment to realize what had happened, but when she did, she shut her eyes and wept, no longer resisting.
-Do not despair, girl. Mother tells me the trees want you. I will send you to them. Say goodbye to the others.-