“Darby?” Matty called. “Darbon, I can’t see.”
“I’m here, Matty,” Darbon replied. He saw that she was curled in a fetal ball, lying in the scrub brush. “Just stay where you are.”
“I can’t see, either,” Vanx said. “If someone can tell me, I’d like to know what’s happening.”
“They’re all gone,” Darbon told him in a tone that inferred that he had no idea why. “There’s another charred ogre by Quazar’s orb; the flash might have scared them away.”
“What of Trevin?” Vanx sat up and rubbed at his eyes furiously. Still, all that he could see was splotches and blurs.
“I am here,” Trevin said between heaving breaths. “Is everyone all right?”
“Other than being bright blinded, I am,” said Vanx.
“Darby is not all right,” Matty said, her voice a little more steady than before. “He’s been clawed across the back.”
Turning in a circle like a dog chasing his tail, the still naked young man twisted as if he might get an angle to see his own back.
“Help Vanx over here, and we’ll see if we can get that cleaned out,” Trevin ordered. “With those filthy trolls it’s the infection you have to worry about, not so much the wound itself.”
Trevin got to his feet and examined his arms and thighs. “We’ll need some cold water too, to wake up that fargin wizard.”
“They’re after his pack!” Matty said. “That’s what they came for.”
“What makes you say so?” Vanx asked as Darbon helped him stumble closer to her. He couldn’t figure why the Kobalts, much less an ancient enta would help defend them. He was still trying to figure out why the Kobalts had led them to Quazar.
“It reached for the pack,” Matty said. “I saw it plain. It wasn’t reaching for the sorcerer or Gallarael.”
After Darbon set Vanx down close to her, he gave Matty a hug. She seemed to forget herself and let out a long sob of relief.
“Must be a secret pocket in there for gold,” Matty mumbled. “I only saw the stuff for spells when I looked.”
“Components,” Vanx corrected. He’d seen some stones when he’d explored the contents of Quazar’s pack. Everything else in there was typical, as far as spell- working goes. The ogres weren’t after those. It had to be the stones. But why? What were they for?
“You’re a greedy, ignorant woman, Matty,” Trevin said in a kindly, almost sweet voice. “What by all the fargin’ gods would a bunch of fargin’ ogres want with some fargin’ gold?”
“I may not be very smart, you bastard.” She wiped a tear from her face and seemed to grow a little angry. “I don’t know what sorcerers and wizards hide in their packs, nor what those nasty beasts are after, but I am not greedy.” She spat in his direction. She then reached out and felt until she could put a hand on Vanx’s arm. “Go help Darbon clean his wound, Trevin,” she snarled. “And if you’re so fargin’ smart, you tell me what those things are after, because they didn’t get it and they’ll probably be back sooner than later.”
“Aye.” Vanx nodded. He was starting to be able to pick out shapes and shadows again. “She’s right, Trev. Hurry, and don’t forget to bring back some cold water. I want to wake that wizard up and find out what’s in that pack.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Across the land he flew
on a brilliant flaming steed.
Brandishing old Ornspike
in the kingdom’s time of need.
Again Quazar came up into a brawler’s crouch with a sputtering yelp, but it was Trevin who splashed him this time.
“Quazar the cowardly wizard, we should call you from now on,” said Trevin with a disgusted snarl on his face. “You’d let us die at the hands of beasts that were coming after YOU?” Trevin spat a wad of cottony saliva at the point where Quazar’s translucent shield met the earth. “What is worse is that instead of helping us with your magic, you hid in your shell like a frightened turtle.”
“They’re gone then?” Quazar asked with a nervous glance around the corpse-strewn campsite. His voice held little remorse and even less sympathy for Trevin’s anger. After heaving a sigh of apparent relief he looked the guardsman in the eye.
“Stand back, sir, or I will use my magic to defend myself. You cannot conceive the importance of the artifact I carry on my person. Did you not see the very Wildwood come alive to defend us? The ogres must not get the Blood Stone back. They should have never had it in the first place. But beyond that, I saved Princess Gallarael from further harm. You should be thankful for that alone. Now step back, I say. Back! Back!”
“Trev,” Vanx called. He still couldn’t see well, but he could hear just fine. “Give the wizard some room.”
Vanx wasn’t sure what this Blood Stone was about, but the idea of any powerful artifact in the possession of some half-feral, half-sentient creatures was unnerving at best. Ignorance and magic didn’t mix very well, nor did magic and flesh-hungry instinct.
“Listen to your Zythian friend, Trevin,” Quazar said. “Give me some room.”
“Zythian?” Trevin asked as he took two steps backward and turned to look at Vanx. “You’re not Zythian, are you Vanx? You don’t look Zythian.”
“Oooh, I should have seen it before now,” Matty said in a gossipy tone. “Only the blue eyes of a Northlander mixed with the yellow of a Zyth could make eyes that color of green.” She rubbed her own eyes wishing she could see. “I’d bet he’s half and half. I bet he is.”
“I am,” Vanx said defensively. “What of it? It doesn’t change who I am or how I feel, or how I think.”
“Can you-can you really turn into a bird-a bird and fly?” asked Darbon. He was feeling the pain of his wounds now. He looked as pale as the river wash.
“Blah! Blah!” Trevin blurted. “I was wondering how you were able to see so fargin well at night.” He scowled down at Vanx who could see well enough now to register Trevin’s expression of disapproval. “It changes something all right.”
This is it, Vanx thought. Either I’ll be shunned as a strangeling or put back into chains. He decided that he should have listened to his elders. They’d all warned that the human condition didn’t allow for much tolerance. I should have never hoped that these people, as kind and honorable as they can be, would be able to see past my race. They-
“What it changes is the fargin subject, wizard,” Trevin continued, surprising Vanx completely. The guardsman stalked back over to Quazar, who’d just dispelled his protective orb. “You’ll not trick me so easily, old man. Now quit trying to turn us against each other and start convincing me not to shorten you by a head.”
Quazar found Trevin’s still bloody sword point resting at his collar. Even if he tried to cast a quick spell, Vanx knew that all it would take was a flick of Trevin’s wrist to open the wizard’s neck.
“If you kill me, Gallarael dies for certain,” said Quazar as he plopped down cross-legged right out from under the danger. Before anyone could blink an eye he started into his tale.
“Firstly, I don’t mean to collapse when I cast the shielding spell. It is a powerful conjuring and it seems that I am not yet strong enough to cast it and remain conscious. As for being cowardly and not helping you defend yourselves, let me make one thing clear.” He crossed his boney arms over his chest like a defiant child. “I am sworn to protect the kingdom and the nobility of Parydon. That is exactly what I did. The Blood Stone and Gallarael were completely safe inside my protective shield.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Vanx said. “You said yourself that she must be taken to Dyntalla and saturated with potions and whatnot before the venom liquefies her insides. How can that be accomplished if she is stuck in a magical orb with an unconscious wizard?”