Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Ambush

Chapter 12: Ambush

Givontair:

We part ways with Ulcer, after I convinced him to not go to Portius. It is by far too dangerous. If Nathaniel thought that Ulcer might be involved, then so can others. 

My feet are sore from all that walking. So, it is a blessing, when we see a small cottage in the middle of the forest. There are mushroom patches at the front. We go to the door, and knock on it. 

A woman, hunched up, and with a face full of wrinkles, answers the door for us. Her eyes are narrowed, when they land on me. Yet, they do soften, when they fall on Erik. 

"What are you all doing, letting a child traipse around the forest?" She asks, as she takes a hold of Erik's arm, and leads him inside the cottage. "Don't you know that the shadows have become restless again?" 

No, I did not know that. What I do know, is that there should be a rune keeping the spirits of the nearby mass grave at bay. This is not something that can, or should be, ignored. 

"We might not look it, but both Nathaniel and I are fighters. Have the shades been giving you trouble?" I ask the woman. By the time I have finished, she is already pushing Erik to a couch. 

"They ate my chickens. Just what am I going to do come winter?" The woman asks. Erik looks at me with a plea in his eyes. 

"You'll help, right, Giv?" That question makes me uncomfortable. While I do not agree that I should fake my death, my dragon senses also don't want to give more of my horde. 

"We'll deal with the shadows," Nathaniel answers for the both of us. "And we will bring you new chickens. We just want for you to look after Erik, while we are at it." 

I pull Nathaniel to the side, and he waits for me to collect my thoughts. 

"I thought you wanted me to play dead?" I ask. He sighs. 

"Look, she needs help. Are you really of the mind that you can leave her to fend for herself?" His words bring me a feeling of shame. I know for a fact, that simply killing the shades will improve her living conditions. Is it not enough?

"I am not preparing for the rang of hero," I counter. Nathaniel takes a hold of my shoulders, and gives me a light shake. 

"I don't want to be named a hero, either. Yet, my conscience doesn't let me walk away from here, without helping," his green eyes are practically challenging me to do the right thing. I wonder, what is he going to do, if I keep on refusing?

"You know what I am," I argue. 

"There are good apples in your flock," I wonder if he really believes that, or he is just using these words as an excuse to get me to do what he wants. I feel a tug at my sleeve. 

"Come on, Giv. It won't cost you a thing," Erik says. I really want to be a good example for the boy. He already thinks that I am a good sort. It would be a pity, if I lose this trust. 

"What of your mother?" I ask him. His eyes close, and he looks like he is battling with himself. 

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"Mom will be fine. She is strong," that almost sounded like a mantra. If only the two would let me fly us to Corum... 

"The slaver weren't that far away from here," Nathaniel adds. "They are more than likely on foot. Together with people who'd do everything they can to run away." 

"Fine, let us go," I say finally. There won't be any arguments that the two would accept. I turn to the old woman. "What is your name, good woman?" 

"Tara," she tells me. I nod at Erik. 

"Tara, please take care of Erik, while we go and deal with the wraiths," she nods, and then takes a hold of Erik's arm once more. Soon, there is a stew before him, with three slices of bread. I look at Nathaniel. 

"Come on, we need to get there before the sunrise," I say. Then, I turn back towards Tara. "Where do the wraiths rise from their graves? How do we reach the place?"

"Follow the paved trail deeper into the forest. You can't miss it," Tara says, and then fills herself a bowl with some stew. My stomach grumbles, but I ignore it. There is no time for a meal. If the wraiths go back to their graves when the sun rises, then we will need to dig out the entire graveyard. 

When we get out of the cottage, I place a barrier stone around it. Just in case some of the wraiths come to the cottage, while we are in the process of burning their graves.

"Do you have a plan?" Nathaniel asks me, when we find the trail. 

"I go full dragon on them, and the earth on the graves blackens," I say. He doesn't seem very convinced in this strategy. 

"If you lend me some of your fire, I can make sure that no wraith remains," this is a better plan, yet, can I trust Nathaniel with my flame? 

Yes, we are mates, but he is my natural enemy. When the blissful haze that came with our bonding flickers out of existence, what will he do? 

"You doubt me?" Nathaniel asks. We hear a rustle in the bushes. Then, the sound of a baby wailing in distress. 

"That must be one of the wraiths," I say, and Nathaniel pulls out his sword. My fire glands begin the secretion process. Still, I don't attack just yet. Quickly, I go to the bush from where the noise was heard. A black hand with nails as sharp as cut glass reach towards my foot. 

I snarl, and let my fire rain down on the shadow. The wraith jumps out of the safety of the bush, and looks me straight in the eyes. 

It has taken the form of a woman, with eyes which look like molten tar. The wraith seems to be wearing a robe. I wonder if it was a practitioner of magic, before it died. 

The forest becomes quiet, and even the breeze that played with the tree's leaves is no longer to be felt. A big storm cloud passes over us. I look up, wondering from just where did this cloud come. 

Yet, the cloud is not gray, it is black. A wiggling mass of shadows. All descending to the ground. 

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