That did not soothe her much. She cried softly and stared up at nothing instead of seeking out a friendly face for comfort, and it felt like she had completely given up. Dirt wasn’t sure if he should interrupt and tell her it would all be fine, over and over until she believed it, or wait until she felt better first. Also, part of him wasn’t quite sure what the trees wanted her for, and that tempered his eagerness to convince her.
He glanced at her mind and saw that the last of her hope had been severed with her leg. Right when she had made peace with having one arm, something worse and more final had happened. What good would an unbreakable sword do when she couldn’t stand without a crutch? Her few short days of adventure were over. Her entire life was over. Everything she had hoped for herself was no longer possible. After sacrificing to the Murderous Lady, she’d been ready to die. This was worse.
Antelmu wanted to go help Biandina and wasn’t sure what was happening to her. But he couldn’t move without the bones in his hand coming loose, even if he braced his wrist over his chest, and it was excruciating each time they rubbed together. Dirt saw the brutal pain of it spark in his mind without even paying specific attention. It kept the boy from even sitting back up.
Socks noticed as well, and an angry huff was all it took for Maxima to hold the bones with her mind, like Mother had done for Dirt early in the summer. The pain instantly vanished and Antelmu sat up in amazement. He figured it out without even being told and whispered, “Thanks.”
-It is temporary, not fully healed,- said Maxima.
Antelmu nodded and rose shakily to his feet. He made his way to Biandina and stood in shock when he saw her missing leg, unsure what to do next.
“Help me sit up,” said Biandina, after a moment of silence. “I want to see it.”
Antelmu leaned down like he intended to lift her, but she held out her hand for him to grab instead, so he did. Once she was sitting up, she stared at her missing leg like a widow might stare at a corpse. There was no succor in the sight, and further tears would bring no relief.
-I told you not to despair. Is that not enough to comfort you?-
“I’m sorry, I just… What do I do now? I can’t even…” she said, her voice quiet and distant.
-You were never going to save your people by yourself with a sharp piece of old metal. You will go to the trees as Mother directs, and for the next fifty years, your tribe’s lands will be free of predators. I will see to it personally. Does that suffice?-
Dirt raised his eyebrows. That was more than he was expecting, much more. He’d suspected Maxima had something in mind when she insisted the children fight alone, although he’d feared it may have been simple curiosity. But if she had some reward in mind, he thought maybe she’d bring them meat once if the winter was too long, or something like that. Maybe hunt a few of the giant birds to get revenge on Biandina’s behalf. But fifty years of safety?
Maxima heard his thoughts and turned her gaze to him. -It is for my brother’s sake. He tells me he would be sad if all the humans disappeared. This is a gift for him, not an exchange for killing one little animal. Even so, I would not have done it if these two did not please me in their fight. They are bold little things, are they not? Like the birds who swoop at me to protect their nests.-
“Thank you, great one,” said Biandina.
“Thank you,” said Antelmu. The two children looked at each other, surprise giving them new energy. Their minds spun with the possibilities. The tribe could leave the outpost long-term, instead of just during the grazing and farming months. They could hunt farther and longer than ever before, free from fear of ambush by the rucce or ragnuli.
-They will need more than a short reprieve to establish themselves firmly, but it is a start. Either it will help, or it will not. Now say your farewells.-
That felt awfully hasty, but Dirt wasn’t about to complain. Antelmu urgently asked, “She’s going to Dirt’s forest? With the giant trees and the green tree people?”
-Yes.-
“Say hello to everyone for me. Marina too, if she’s there,” said Dirt. “Tell Home I’m glad she’s still watching and I miss her. I’ll come visit when I can.”
“Me too,” said Antelmu. “I mean I’ll come visit someday. I promise.”
Socks lifted Biandina to a standing position with his mind, helping her balance on her one leg so she could give Antelmu a proper hug goodbye. She and her brother embraced tightly, with Biandina releasing first. A look of anxiety on her face made Dirt think she was simply eager to face the coming terror and get it over with.
“Anything I should know?” she asked, motioning for Dirt to come give her a hug as well.
He did, and answered, “Yeah, it’s gonna hurt when you hit the ground. You’ll probably be dizzy and feel like you might be dying, but it’ll pass. So don’t be scared. Just wait for a moment and you’ll be fine.”
“Anything else?” she said, gritting her teeth.
“You can ask them for anything you need. You’ll never be hungry or thirsty again.”
“You said you wanted to send me to the forest to see about my arm, but I guess now they want me? Do you know why they want me?”
“I really can’t say. They don’t quite understand pain, or sadness, or anything like that. But they don’t wish you any harm. Anything that seems weird or unpleasant is probably for your own good. They might be curious to see if they can grow a new arm. They might just want a little collection of humans to watch so they can understand us better,” said Dirt.
“Honestly, you’re making them sound a little scary,” said Biandina.
“Oh, they are, but they’re also sweet and magnificent and honest and patient. They’re the ones who gave me magic, although I don’t recommend that. But I was broken in a lot of ways and they put me back together. I love them. They’re my best friends next to Socks,” said Dirt.
-Are you done saying goodbye?- asked Maxima.
“One last thing, Great One,” said Biandina. She motioned for Socks to lean in and patted him on the nose, then her head against his muzzle for a moment. “Thanks for everything.”
-I will remember you, if we don’t meet again. It was fun,- said Socks. He sniffed her and looked up at Maxima, then stepped back to give her room.
The great wolf said, -Hold that sword, if you want to take it with you. You will be bringing nothing else.-
With Socks’s help, Biandina bent down and picked it up. She held it by the hilt and rested the blade against her shoulder.
Maxima took her from Socks’s mental grasp, as evidenced by a sudden jerk to the left that startled her a little. The great wolf put Biandina on the dry yellow grass at the edge of the palace entrance and made her sit.
Dirt turned his mental gaze toward his mana body just in time to see half a connection spring into being. Maxima’s immense mind reached across an impossible distance to tie her magic to that of the trees, or so Dirt assumed. The sigils he imagined were simple and few in number, but the sheer magnitude of the power she exercised seared his perception, blinding it, giving him a scalding ache deeper than physical perception.
From one moment to the next, Biandina was there, and then she was gone, leaving a pile of ragged, bloody, empty clothes.
The great wolf lifted her head to peek over the rim of the cavern, then sighed loudly and shook with a hint of weariness. -She arrived safely. Now it is time for you to leave,- said Maxima. -I know I promised you that you could kill the rest, but the Devourer will be curious what just happened and may come looking.-
She leaned down and Socks licked her muzzle affectionately and they jawed at each other’s mouths playfully for a moment. Then they nuzzled their faces against each other, rubbing thoroughly to make sure the scent was properly shared.
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Socks said, -It was good to meet you, sister. And you, brother. I will come again when I am grown.-
-BE WELL, PUP. GO DESTROY SOMETHING,- said a voice Dirt hadn’t heard before.
-Yes, brother. Good bye.- And with that, he snatched Antelmu and Dirt from where they were standing, put Antelmu’s new spear next to Dirt’s wooden staff in his holster, and leaped up out of the crevice.
Socks sprinted across the thin snow and grass with such obvious pleasure that Dirt wondered what he and Maxima had been up to the whole time. The pup’s mind was full of eager relief and a sense of lightness that Dirt hardly recognized.
Before he could ask, Socks sensed the question and explained, -My brother and sister thought my mana wasn’t growing like it should, since I have been relying more on cleverness and trickery for magic like a human. Most wolves my age prefer brute force, and it helps us grow. So she used her mana to press on mine the entire time to force me to grow. Then she said she would bite me if I showed signs of weariness.-
“Did she?”
-No.-
“Did it help, then? I guess it worked?”
Socks filled himself with mana, so much that Dirt could feel it tingling through the pup’s fur and into his fingers. It was indeed more than Dirt had ever seen him hold, and his voice was full of self-pride when he answered, -I think it did. That is more than before. But I will have to keep working on it.-
“Me too. Let’s think of a game that we can play that exercises it,” said Dirt.
-Yes. But mostly I will practice by doing things like this.- said Socks. He skidded to a stop, digging his claws into the ground and leaving long furrows a foot deep. He growled loudly and the earth rumbled in reply, and Dirt and a very startled Antelmu watched the ground rip open, sending a violent eruption of sand and stone a hundred paces into the air. It rained heavy and deadly upon to the ground, except for under the mental shield Socks put in place.
-Watch closer,- said the pup.
“What was that?” yelled Antelmu, clinging tighter to Dirt’s shirt.
Before getting an answer, Dirt watched with his mana body to see a very simple magical operation appear, one which simply demanded sudden motion. It was fueled by every drop of mana the pup could hold, and the explosion it made when it sent boulders the size of houses flying everywhere shook his guts.
“Run!” screamed Antelmu, filling with wild panic.
“No, that was Socks! Hold on, it’s okay!” said Dirt.
-That was me. I am sorry I didn’t warn you.-
“Can you give me ten seconds to recover first!?” shouted Antelmu, his voice cracking from extreme stress. “I’ve had a hard day!”
Dirt and Socks had been so excited to get moving again that neither of them had paid the poor boy any mind at all, and it turned out he was completely miserable. He missed his sister already, tortured by grief as if she’d died. His nice fur coat was ruined, stained and stinking from the beast’s poison, and the hole its spike had made let the cold air in.
Socks lowered his head apologetically and said, -You should find some wood and make him a brace before Sister lets go of his bones.-
“Oh, right!” said Dirt aloud. He jumped right off Socks’s back and sheepishly made his way over to some nearby bushes, which he kicked and waved through until he found some hard, thicker branches. He sliced one off with his knife and ran back.
It wasn’t much work from there. Dirt simply had to grow it around the boy’s wrist and make sure it was tight and comfortable. The magic for that felt rather mundane after what he’d seen earlier. Just a tiny trickle compared to a whole river.
Once Antelmu’s brace was in place, he gave a little gasp as the pain returned. Maxima had released her hold on his bones, and now they were going to ache until they healed back together. Even with the brace, he’d be better off not using his arm much until it started knitting back together.
When Socks got moving again, it was with far less enthusiasm than before. -He is going to get lonely if we only ever talk to each other, and not him.-
Dirt agreed. “Should I start always talking with my mouth, then? You’ll have to keep the shield in front when you run.”
-Maybe. We should think of something to do that will make him happy again. And we will talk to him a lot so he doesn’t get lonely,- said Socks.
They had little to say for the next while, even to each other. The day was cold and long, and the landscape had somehow transformed itself into dreary wilderness, mostly because of Antelmu. The most pitiable thing about it was how he kept trying to cheer himself up, remembering his wondrous new spear, or all the gold in his pack. And Biandina’s pack, for that matter, which Socks still carried. The fact that they’d killed that Man-eater creature.
But his thoughts kept sliding back to grief, and his bones hurt, and he kept getting cold air into his coat. And he had no idea where they were going, and his tribe was already saved, and did he really want to go home?
Socks finally slowed to a stop, after what must have been hours of running. Heat radiated from his coat and each of his panting breaths turned to fog in the air. He lifted his head to peek at Antelmu with one yellow eye and said, -Dirt can see your thoughts just like I can. We didn’t tell you because we didn’t know how anyone would react. So it is a secret that only you may have. Do not tell anyone. But from now on, you can talk with us by thinking, if we are paying attention.-
“Really?” said Antelmu. The idea drew him out of his reverie. “You can…” he started with his mouth, but finished with his mind, a wobbly sentence of ill-formed words. He’d need practice. “You can hear this?”
“Yep!” said Dirt. “Does that scare you?”
“Oh, that’s so weird! He’s…!” cried Antelmu. The novelty gave him sparks and he perked up. “How do you learn how to do that?”
-One thing at a time, little human. Not even Dirt learned it his first day. Practice thinking first.-
“Okay,” thought Antelmu, loudly, practically screaming. Dirt grinned to himself, since that’s what he’d done at first, too. “So where are we going now?”
Socks replied, -There is a place Father said has something for Dirt. We were supposed to go there second, but it wasn’t the closest, so we are going there now.-
“What is it?” thought Antelmu.
-We don’t know.-
After that, the journey was much more pleasant. Antelmu still had the random tinge of heartache, but the distraction of playing thinking games overcame anything deeper. To Socks and Dirt’s pleasure, the boy had a big imagination and could picture things clearly if he focused, as clear as a dream. He’d heard a thousand stories, each containing ideas Socks and Dirt had never thought before. A flying horse, a sheep that brewed beer, a snake that could smell gold and bit people so they died.
Once they left Mors' and Maxima’s territory, the earth leveled out again into a long, flat plain, windy and cold and almost completely bare of snow. Socks wasn’t pleased about it, since it would surely be boring, and Dirt had to agree. That night they slept in a hollow that Socks dug out by exploding the ground in a long furrow, and it kept them out of the wind.
The second day was much like the first, except that Antelmu’s thoughts were already growing more disciplined. His ideas were clearer and losing their clutter, and he was getting better about not thinking about certain things, like all the stories he knew about humans mating with each other. Those he hid away with a sense of shyness, or maybe guilt at being discovered, as if he wasn’t supposed to know them in the first place. It was one thing to hint at a bawdy tale expecting a child not to understand, and quite another to be certain that no detail would be missed.
That night, Apkallu visited them in the dream, and instead of watching from a distance, stood amongst them and made every detail of the dream vivid and powerful. Even Antelmu became fully aware he was dreaming and laughed at the joy of being able to summon up anything he wanted. The fairy crafted wonders for them, impossibilities in dazzling variety. More recognizable things, too, like all the savory roasted meat they could eat. He laughed and called them friends, but never used the name Avitus, and neither did Dirt call him Apkallu.
The next day, the frozen misty fog cleared to show the landscape descending on a long, slow decline that gave them a view of a surprisingly distant horizon. -We should be getting close, so keep watch for whatever it is we’re here to see,- said Socks, and that was enough to get both boys to keep their human eyes peeled.
Antelmu spotted it first, which annoyed Dirt, but he’d been hunting on the plains for longer than Dirt had been alive and sometimes there was no overcoming experience. He saw it when it was just a speck of off-white against the snow, and Dirt couldn’t quite make it out until they got a lot closer.
A tower of shining marble stood resolute upon a flat rock half the size of a village, incongruous with the landscape. The tower was square with an open cupola on top supported by pillars, and windows all the way up its length. It reminded Dirt of a lighthouse, but he couldn’t remember what a lighthouse was.
It was taller than the Square Tower, but only if they counted the long spike atop the cupola. It wasn’t as broad, though, and would only house hundreds of people, not thousands. The architecture included plenty of ornamentation in a style he recognized. Even the tower itself itched at his memory, bothering him because it seemed like he should know what it was. It was for him, after all.
When they came within a hundred paces, the carvings came into view, highlighted by shadows from the morning sun. They depicted dozens of horses in reins, pulling something on the other side. “Go around it! This is the back. Let’s see the front!” said Dirt excitedly. Socks ran straight toward it, though, and passed along the rock it was build on, which was as tall as the tips of his ears.
The chariot on the front carried a god in flowing robes with one perfect, muscular arm holding aloft a round flame. The Sun and his chariot! Of course. Dirt shouted aloud, “The Turris Solis! That means tower of the sun in your language.” He did indeed recognize this place, now that he saw it from the right angle.
He’d been here, and warmly received, when he was Avitus. Even now he remembered that old sense of eagerness, of the friendly faces he expected at the door.
And the door still remained, a monstrous wooden one plated with bronze in carvings so complicated they belonged on a tomb or a palace, not an… Not whatever this place was. Dirt wasn’t sure. He knew the name, though, and recognized it, and that was enough to thrill him.
Dirt couldn’t wait and jumped down off Sock’s back, then up onto the rocky plateau in a single, mana-infused bound. The paved walkway was all grown over now, but Dirt suspected it would still be there to uncover if he felt like digging. The dirt came up a foot deep at the door, too, and would have to be cleared away to make it usable again.
The knocker, though, that was something he couldn’t resist. A large circle of braided rope held in the mouth of a lion, and it was still there! Dirt gentle nudged it, and grinned when it moved. He pulled back and gave a resounding, clanging knock, then another.
“Coming, coming,” said a voice inside, in his language. No mind accompanied it. Footsteps approached the door.