Yellowhair: An Elf Hollow Prequel

THIRTEEN | Spatk

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Spatk

Qello still sat on the stump with her torn feet now cleansing infection. She tried to remember and, again—tuning in to her senses, could feel no shadow—no danger. Her foggy and unaware state had set in for a time and she studied the camp and the cave with the barest of interest. Then Krendal returned to the clearing. She seemed to have let the weight go out of her arms.

"Ye sit more normal, now. Yes?"

Qello looked up, frightened, but it was only polite acknowledgement from the quick little man. No one paid her much mind nor addressed her again and eventually she stared into the fire, still groggy and dazed, just like the big man seemed to be doing.

Thadiac gave a great, huff. He used Krendal's fire to light a pipe of his herbs. He puffed and puzzled. He resigned himself to finding the source of the Naught through deep inner searching. He contentedly watched the flames lick at a log, inside the fire—circle of stones. The embers hissed and spat, while Krendal arranged some boughs near the cave. He ducked in and out, then filled a small clay mug with some soup from the pot. "Not so much. Just a small bit." He passed the mug to the child. "Ye can have some more when you're getting more settled."

Qello was frightened and peered into the cup, but knew what she needed to do—to survive. She smelled the soup and knew her body was fading. For you Muma. I eat this to live and find you.

"You shouldn't leave, yet, Lad," Krendal murmured to Thad. "The Traders Welcome will go on for more days."

Thadiac looked to his Uncle and nodded. He had first intended to leave, soon, but Uncle Ruzz seemed to feel he had a bond to the girl, and maybe he did. He would stay with them that night and through the next morning. Should he stay a bit longer? The girl was in deep need of sleep and slow to respond to Krendal's treatments—a curious child, somehow ageless. How had she come to be here at all?

On top of the stump, Qello was keen in her observations of camp, still overwhelmed, foggy-headed and injured. She saw that the storyteller knew all the good and dry stowing spots. He planned to sleep on a fur, he pulled from a pack. The big man who tells stories must come here a lot. He'd tucked the pack back under a rock at the edge of the clearing out of the rain to save it, 'til morning.

For now, the teller of tales was tossing his fur rug out onto a thick flat woven mat, that the elder man had brought from the cave and put down as a bed in the clearing. "Here you can have this, Thad." He motioned the storyteller to sleep with the fire, offering him a little more comfort.

That first night in their camp, once the peace on Qello's face had finally deepened with the healing of herbs, she slept more completely than either man did.

She awoke roughly, however, past the dawn and with eyes wide, looked all about her in shock. She slowly remembered. It wouldn't be long. She would mend quickly now and go back to find Luu—soon, she was sure. She swallowed. The shadowy creature must have passed on, or one of the men would have seen or said something.

The healer and the storyteller had been up as soon as pale light drew outlines on trees and the mountains showed gloom in the background. They were busy stirring things into pots, both of them leaning over the fire.

Qello watched them go about their 'first-thing' routines and tried to relax, but she was pulled hard by her worry for Luu. The men were kind and considerate to her. They fed her again. They had even thought of bathroom privacy needs, but she didn't want to stay long enough to need any of that.

Thadiac had been digging at the far edge of the camp and had built her her own partly-covered hole, deep in the ground and had left her a mound of cold ash and soft crumbling wood ready to pour into the hole to help droppings go back to the forest. "I'll listen for when you are ready. You make noises, then I'll come and lift you back through the trees." Thadiac promised it was a safe and private place, just for her.