Pahtl finally frightened the last of the Iktakans off their trail sometime before midday. He harried the hunters’ steps, rushing in from the mist and rain to nip at their heels, growling curses and promising to spill blood until even the hardiest of the Iktakans began muttering of evil spirits and turned back for home. As for the otter, Tarek could sense that he was having great fun.
Without Pahtl they would have surely died, because Tarek moved more and more slowly the further they got from the village – his pains refused to be ignored. The dull circle of the sun that lightened the clouds was not yet overhead when he fell facedown and could not be moved.
Tavi and Bachi tended to his hurts as best they could, and in a stupor of pain Tarek listened to them bicker.
“I don’t think those are the right leaves.”
“They’re clot-leaves. I saw our healer use them all the time.”
“Are they, though? They look more like itch oak to me.”
“Stop, stop! Get your hands out of there – they’re filthy! Are you really so stupid?”
“They’re the wrong leaves, Tavi!”
“Shut up! Get back!”
Tarek heard the slap of flesh and a sharp intake of breath.
“I’m trying to help,” the Wobanu boy said in a small voice.
“This is your fault!” Tavvi said in a rage. “Your fault! Stand over there and don’t even look at me!”
“I’m sorry! I said I was sorry! I was going to hit the guard there at the gate last night, honestly I was. I was right there, but then, I just, I… I was scared!”
“He couldn’t even see you,” Tavi said, disgusted.
“But what… what if he had the Song strongly and he could? What if I hit him and then he turned around and stuck a knife in me? I’m not like you two – barefoot and living off berries and grass, ready to kill or run without a heartbeat’s hesitation. I can’t do that! I’m a Singer. I don’t hit people.”
“And you didn’t think to tell us this before we marched in there?”
“I didn’t think it would be so hard. I… wanted you both to be proud of me.”
Tavi laughed bitterly. “Don’t hold out hope on that count.”
The crunch of leaves and a surge of nearness in Tarek’s flickering consciousness announced Pahtl’s arrival. “Be proud of me instead! I chased the stupid hunters back to their den. None can stand against Pahtl.”
“See? A talking animal has more sense than you,” Tavi growled. “I never should have let you come with us.” Tarek could hear him shredding clot-leaves viciously.
“Do not be angry at the fat one. He is sad. Next time give Pahtl the stick.”
Tarek wanted to float away from the argument like he’d done back in the village, but his body remained stubbornly solid and agonizingly painful. Too hurt and exhausted to do anything else, he laid there with closed eyes and listened. He heard a hitching intake of breath from his brother.
“I’m no better than Bachi,” Tavi admitted. “I’m not even sure these are the right leaves.”
“You do not need leaves, silly cub,” Pahtl said gently. “Put those away and let me help. Lick lick lick. You slick-skins make things more difficult than need be.”
Tarek felt the weight of two large paws on his back, and then the line of fire re-ignited between his shoulders. All he had strength to do was gasp and shudder as Pahtl’s long, rough tongue scraped along the length of his wound.
“Thtay thtill,” the otter admonished him, his words garbled by his extruded tongue.
“Is that… a good idea?” Bachi asked timidly.
“I don’t know,” Tavi said. “Better than putting strange leaves in the wound, I’d imagine.”
“This heals,” Pahtl said, his ministrations pausing. “Lick out the dirt and bad blood. So long as the blood stops and there is not too much, then the tongue is always best. How do you not know this?”
The licking resumed.
“All this and we didn’t even get any blood from them,” Tavi said, despairing. “I shouldn’t have let him go first.”
The humans sat in the pattering silence of the gentle rain as Pahtl tended first to the exposed flesh on Tarek’s back, then the deep wound under his arm, and lastly gave a few licks at his fingertip. Tarek could feel that the splinter of bone was gone from under his fingernail, though he still couldn’t understand how.
“Well, this is a lovely mess,” a tired, reedy voice said suddenly.
Both boys gave cries of alarm, and Tarek heard the sounds of scrambling. Pahtl hissed, his emotions flaring with protectiveness as he put his back against Tarek’s side and dug his claws into the earth. Tarek thought he might just be able to roll halfway over to look in the voice’s direction and told himself he would do so soon. It was Xochil’s voice, and Tarek had questions.
“What are you doing here?” Tavi demanded.
“Who are you?” Bachi shrilled.
“It’s a wonder Tarek’s alive at all, if you’re the ones guarding him,” Xochil said.
Tarek tried to give the old man a sharp reply, but all that happened was a weak twitch of his hand and an mmmf that the dirt muffled. No one noticed.
“If you’ve been following us, where were you last night?” Tavi demanded. “We really could have used your help.”
“I’m not really here,” Xochil said. “Not exactly. I just thought I’d peek in to see how our boy was getting along. I’d hoped for something a little better than this.”
“Who is this man?” Bachi asked.
“His name’s Xochil, and he’s useless,” Tavi said grimly.
“Xochil? The Xochil?”
“Yes, the Xochil,” the old man said. “Are you two picking up strays now?”
“I do not like this man,” Pahtl said.
“Aaaand he’s fed blood to his pet. Perfect. What happened to not using your blood magic, Tarek? It hasn’t even been a moon’s turn!”
“It happened before!” Tavi protested. “And shut up if you’re not going to help. Go away. We can take care of him just fine.”
“Give him a little blood and he’ll be fine,” Xochil said irritably. “The thought had to have occurred to you.”
“How are you even here, anyway?” Tavi asked. “You’re barely more than a dry stick. You couldn’t have walked this far.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Bachi hissed urgently. “This is Xochil!”
“Yes, a little respect, please,” the old man said dryly.
“What is a pet?” Pahtl whispered.
“You’re a pet,” Xochil said. “An animal kept by a human for fun.”
“I said go away, Xochil,” Tavi said. “We don’t need you.”
“Thankfully, I am not bound by the demands of a twelve-year-old. Did you get any blood from the Iktaka?”
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“Why should I tell you anything?”
“I am not a pet!” Pahtl growled, and Tarek heard a scampering in the dirt. Twin intakes of air from Bachi and Tavi along with a distinct lack of screaming from Xochil told Tarek that something had gone awry.
“Why can I not bite him?” Pahtl muttered. “He is like empty air.”
“You’re not really here!” Bachi said, awed.
“Isn’t that exactly what I told you?” Xochil replied. “Now shut up and listen. You need to move faster. Prick your finger and give him a little blood. Time is wasting.”
“More bad illusions,” Tavi sneered. “You send some shadow of yourself after us just to boss us around? I wish I’d burned down your house.”
“If it weren’t the new moon, I’d harden my hand and show you just how real my illusions can be,” Xochil said. “Listen to your tubby little friend there. I’m not someone you want to offend, boy.”
If it weren’t the new moon, the old snake said. Tarek was in no state to count the days to figure out whether Margandu or Shaka was dark right now, but it was the first bit of information Xochil had let slip: his magic didn’t work as well when one of the moons wasn’t in the sky. Tarek latched onto the thought with a tiny spark of will and thought maybe he could move just a little. With great effort, he managed to turn his head to the side and open an eye. Xochil leaned against a tall, gnarled stick, looking very real. Tavi faced him with balled fists, and Pahtl huddled behind his legs, unnerved. Bachi was several steps back trying to look unthreatening and succeeding. The rain made everything seem gray.
“Xochil,” Tarek croaked.
Everyone turned to him.
“Oh, good. I hope you’re a little smarter than your brother. You have to move faster. The equinox waits for no one.”
“Why?” Speaking was so very tiring, but Tarek persisted.
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why come? Why care?”
Xochil knelt by his side. Tarek would never have guessed he was an illusion.
“I may not be any good at showing it, but I’d like you to succeed, Tarek. Like I said, I’ve watched you a long time. You must gather the blood and return to me before the equinox. It’s the only time my power will be strong enough to do what needs doing. I know you’re worried about using your magic, but this is exactly the sort of thing I was talking about. Let your brother give you a drop of his blood. You’ll be ready to run all day instead of stuck here half-dead.”
“I’m not giving him my blood!” Tavi said loudly.
“The other one, then, who cares? Just get it done.”
“No,” Tarek grunted.
“You’ll have to eventually,” Xochil said gently. “This world does not allow for power to go unused. Either you take it by the haft and use it or you’ll be killed by those who will. Mark me well.”
Tarek tilted his head back a little further to look the man in the eye. “Magic. Moon.”
Xochil chuckled. “So you do have a brain. Yes, my magic comes from the movement of the lesser moon. You’re not the only one with gifts.”
The old man’s hand hovered over his head as if he wanted to smooth back Tarek’s hair. The motion looked almost tender. “Get well, boy. Then get moving.”
Then he straightened and gave Tavi a peevish look. “You’ve had a hard night, so I’m going to ignore your bad behavior. Next time, though, I’m turning you into a goat.”
Tavi grunted, flicking his hand at the old man with middle fingers tucked under his thumb and outer fingers extended like horns. Tarek wondered if Xochil knew how rude the gesture was. “I think I can handle whatever illusion you send after me.”
Xochil snorted. “And it’s a good thing you didn’t burn down my house, because then you’d never get to read my books.”
Tavi stood stock-still, the sneer dropping off his face, replaced by naked hunger.
Xochil laughed. “Thought that would do it.” Then he vanished.
“I do not like that man,” Pahtl said again.
Tavi knelt by Tarek right where Xochil had been. “I’m not giving you any blood. You promised.”
“I know.”
“I will,” Bachi offered. He approached, wringing his hands. “I’m so sorry, Tarek. I didn’t mean to run away. You can have a drop of my blood if it will make you better.”
Tarek closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more. His wounds would close in an instant and he’d be whole and hale. His body burned with pain. We need to move. We’re running out of time. It’s the smart thing to do.
“No,” he whispered.
“You’re hurt, and it’s my fault,” Bachi said.
“Pahtl,” Tarek said. “Lick lick. Please.”
Pahtl approached. “I told them it was better. They are young.” He flicked his tongue at the wound on Tarek’s back once and then paused thoughtfully. “I am taking more of your blood. Maybe I will learn to fly next.”
Scuffling steps sounded nearby. From the wet rustle and flap of cloth, it had to be Bachi. “Oh,” the boy said quietly. “Oh!” he repeated, sounding excited. “Tavi, Tavi, look!”
“I saw your stick, oh Wise Singer. Maybe use it a little sooner next time.”
“No, I mean look! Right here!”
Tavi gave a great, put-upon sigh and climbed to his feet, walking over to their Wobanu companion. “What?”
“I think, I think maybe, when I bonked that man with the crown… what does that look like to you?”
Tavi was quiet for a moment. “Yes, that’s blood. That’s blood!”
“I thought it was! Except maybe it was sap, so I had to ask.”
“Don’t hold it out in the rain! Give me that. I’ll cut off the bark and put it in my sack.”
“But was that the right man? Was he the chief?”
“Who else would wear a crown of deer horns? He must have been. Thank the Ones Beneath! Of all the luck for him to be the one you hit…” Tarek heard the unmistakable sound of a back being clapped. “I guess I was wrong, Singer. You did good after all.”
“I did! I really did!” Bachi had never sounded so excited.
Tarek wanted to laugh in relief, but all the talking had wearied him. Eyes shut, he drifted. Lick lick. He breathed shallowly, trying to ignore the pain of Pahtl’s ministrations. We haven’t failed yet. I’ll hurry, Xochil, but I won’t lose myself to the blood again just for the sake of a few days’ walking. Yaretzi, be well. Wait for me. Once I’m cured, I’ll come for you.
Author's note:
Hi, friends! I hope you've been enjoying the daily updates for a while. I'm sorry to say we've come more or less to the end of that. I'll have two updates a week for the next little bit, and by November we'll be going to once a week. Stick with me! There's lots more to come.
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