Moonshadow (Book 1 of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Twelve: A Healthy Fear of the Dark

Katerin found that the further they went, the tiny droplets of blood sprinkled here and there on the path were her only means of tracking the man. One on a piece of dark green moss, another smeared into tree bark. At one point, she found a tiny indent in the moss, but she was unsure if it was a sign of a trail or not. It took several minutes with Fykes' and Arjiah's help, to puzzle out a vague direction to follow.

Eventually, they found an old, lightning-struck tree. Its bark was gray and weathered, and it still bore scorch marks deep into its trunk. Blood was smeared across it, mixing with the charcoal and smudged as if it had been hastily wiped away.

Arjiah frowned and stepped back to peer up at it.

"Hello? Anyone up there?" Katerin craned her neck back, and silence followed her words. "Hey!" she spoke louder this time. "Anyone alive up there?"

"Are you Sahn-Raidar?" a man asked, his low voice barely carrying over the noises of the forest.

Fykes started and moved toward the tree. His posture changed from tense to relaxed as he heard the rough, cynical voice that spoke to them. "We're friendly," he said, with a small smile.

"Come up. It's nice and cozy," the man replied, with a sigh heavy in his tone.

Fykes hoisted Katerin up the tree in front of him and she grunted as she climbed, giving him a quizzical look.

The hole in the tree held a rather spacious area—for the inside of a tree, that was. It was large enough for at least seven people to stretch out their legs. The newer wood of the upper part of the tree had been burned away. but the older, sap-filled portion had hardened from the heat and left a semi-smooth floor. The walls were smeared with charcoal and blood, and the metallic scent of it permeated the space.

As Katerin crawled up, she heard a cynical bark of laughter.

Lugaria sat with his legs sprawled out in front of him, head leaned back against the tree, with a number of cuts and bruises visible. His leg had a nasty looking knife wound, and more blood stained his side near a long tear in his leather armor. A hasty looking tourniquet was wrapped around his injured leg, and one hand held a large great-sword with a wide blade, splayed out awkwardly to one side. His other arm supported a slender half-elven form who was badly wounded, torso sporting a terrible stab wound, his head rolling awkwardly to one side.

Both were covered in enough blood to leave Katerin wondering how either was still alive. She knew she would not be able to do much for him, with her limited healing ability. She knelt and placed a hand on Lugaria's leg, giving the small amount of healing magic she had. Her mastery over Arjiah's spell was limited at best.

"Help Agrata," Lugaria said, his voice was harsh—almost angry—as he pushed her hand away, nearly sending her sprawling backwards.

"I don't think I can," Katerin said, holding out her hands with a weary expression. She gently moved Agrata and laid him on his back, propping his head on her arms. His face looked so young and unassuming, but his expression was twisted in pain, and his breathing was slow.

Fykes pulled himself through and reached back to grab Arjiah's arm, hauling her up in but a moment.

Katerin laid a hand over a gaping wound in Agrata's side. Blood coated her fingers instantly, soaking through the thick wrap of bandages. She fought to keep her hands from shaking as she incanted her spell—trying to close the wound—with one hand holding steady pressure on it. Then Arjiah was kneeling next to her, and she felt the blood stop flowing over her fingers. She opened her eyes, a shaking breath finally finding its way out of her lungs as she glanced at the person who had endured these terrible wounds.