Bloodthorn Page 14

  “It seems you’ve thought of everything,” I said.

  Kull shrugged. “The ways of Wults haven’t changed much in the past thousand years. We survive the same way our ancestors did.” He used a stick cleaned of its bark to stir the dried plants and meat into the water.

  The fire crackled, and the smell of wood smoke permeated the air. Evening turned to dusk, and with the call of bog-beasts resounding from the forest, Heidel finished weaving the door and secured it to the tree’s opening.

  “It will not be effective at keeping anything out,” she said, frowning. “The best it will do is camouflage the opening.”

  “It will suffice,” Kull said.

  “I could create a ward to keep anything out, but my magic would also call the attention of magical beasts prowling the woods,” I said.

  “Then perhaps you should not use your magic,” Heidel said. “It may be best not to attract attention.”

  “I disagree,” Kull said. “The creature that attacked me was intelligent. The creatures here may be no different. They will operate with the element of surprise. If they wish to catch us unaware, tonight would be the time to do it. Even if one of us takes watch, it may not be enough.”

  Heidel glanced at me. “Then perhaps it would be best to ward the door.”

  I glanced at the door. Creating a ward was easy enough, and I would have to make sure the enchantment allowed us to pass through it while keeping everything else out, which wouldn’t be too difficult, but with my emotions still a mess and my Earth and Faythander magics resisting one another, I knew I would need to take it slow.

  “You’ll both need to stand back,” I said.

  The two Wults moved behind me as I readied my magic. Amber and blue swirls of light formed around my outstretched hands. Focusing on the door, I calmed my mind and concentrated on taking deep, controlled breaths.

  “Protect,” I whispered the magical word. Whorls of light spread outward, and the glowing tendrils wrapped around the door.

  Magic drained from my body, and before I realized what was happening, my head spun. The forest dimmed in my vision and then grew black.

  Am I underwater? I can’t breathe. But no, I can’t be underwater, so why can’t I breathe?

  My lungs screamed for air, yet no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch my breath. Sounds were muffled. There were screams—shouts, maybe? No, no way to tell.

  Must get air. I need to breathe!

  I awoke, gasping, breathing in too quickly, I choked, then coughed and sputtered. The forest spun in my vision—dark limbs against a star-filled sky. A glowing full moon. The bonfire popping. My hands and feet were so cold I couldn’t move them, and panic welled inside me.

  “Breathe,” a man’s voice said.

  I lay on my side, and tears leaked from my eyes as I inhaled the cold forest air. As my mind rebooted, my first thought was of my magic. It was completely gone. It had all been absorbed into the ward.

  Heidel knelt in front of me, but I felt someone else’s hand pressed between my shoulder blades, rubbing small circles. The warmth of the motion seeped through my back and into my lungs, gently coaxing me to breathe.

  “Slow down. Breathe,” he said again.

  I realized I was breathing too fast, so I steadied my inhalations and exhalations.

  Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in…

  Despite the chill in the air, sweat beaded on my neck and forehead.

  Finally, I managed to make my voice work. “What… what happened?”

  “I am not sure,” Heidel said. “You passed out after creating the magic.”

  I took in a few more breaths, realizing how grateful I was for the ability to breathe. When I felt ready, I slowly sat up.

  Kull moved his hand away from my back, stood abruptly, and walked toward the fire.

  For a split second, right after I’d woken, I’d forgotten we weren’t together anymore. It must have been because he’d felt so familiar—the warmth and strength of his hands had felt as though they should have been there. Now that he’d moved away, I felt emptier than I’d ever felt before. The feeling went beyond an emotional pain—it was enough to sicken my stomach.

  Slowly, I sat up, noting my back was still warm where he’d touched me.

  “You’re very pale,” Heidel said. “You do not look well.”

  “I’ll be all right, although my magic is becoming more unstable. I fear I may not be able to use it at all in the future.”

  “Let’s hope that’s not the case. We’ve been traveling all day, and the strange situation with your magic has taken its toll on you. Do you think you can make it to the fire? I shall prepare a bowl of soup for you.”

  “Yes. I’ll manage.”

  I looked toward the fire and found Kull standing beside it with his arms crossed, the flames’ glow radiating off his face and chest. He stared with a brooding expression and didn’t speak as I limped over and sat on the log near the fire.

  Heidel ladled out three bowls of soup. As she passed the bowls around, Kull finally backed away from the fire and sat on the edge of the log, with Heidel sitting between us.

  “We must tell Eugrid to add more salt,” Heidel said after taking a sip of the soup. “This is blander than the last batch she made.”

  “It’s sufficient,” Kull answered. Emerald streamers of fire combined with the orange, and it was then that I realized Kull had added elder tree bark to the woodpile. The small pieces of bark glowed green in the fire.

  “I will place the bark inside the tree once we’re inside,” Kull said. “It should help keep us warm.”

  “Won’t it burn the tree?” I asked.

  “No, the bark has properties more similar to metal than to wood. It should be quite safe.”

  “I wager we shall be impenetrable,” Heidel said. “I doubt even the most savage beast could break through as Olive has warded the door so well.”

  “Yes,” Kull laughed, “we’re very fortunate to have her with us.”

  An uneasy silence settled over our camp. Far in the distance came the lonely hooting of a night bird. A log split in half, snapping and spraying bright orange embers into the air.

  “I don’t understand what’s happening to my magic,” I said, mostly to break up the silence. “I suspect it might be related to what’s happening to the Arrubicus stones, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “Does your stepfather know?” Heidel asked.

  “He suspects I’m having trouble balancing my two magics, but I think there’s more to it. Hopefully, we’ll know more once we find out what’s happened to the stones.”

  “I can’t be of much help to you,” Heidel said. “I have little experience with magic.”

  “I believe it would be wise if you stopped using your magic,” Kull said. “That is, until you know what’s causing its strange behavior.”

  “I agree. But there’s also the possibility there’s nothing wrong with it and I’m at fault. If that’s the case, then I may not be using magic for a very long time.”

  “With practice,” Kull said, “perhaps you’ll learn to control it.”

  “Yes, let’s hope so.”

  I sipped my soup, letting it warm me and clear my head. What if I was never able to use my magic again? What would I do without it? Those few short weeks I’d been without it last winter had been some of the hardest in my life. What if it was to be that way forever? I would lose my ability to cross worlds.

  Setting my empty bowl aside, I stretched my hands toward the fire. I had a habit of worrying too much. Chances were my magical issues would be resolved sooner than I expected, and then I would have spent all my time worrying over nothing.

  Kull stood and rinsed our bowls and tin pot away from camp, then dried them and returned them to the pack. Heidel and I prepared our sleeping arrangements, which consisted of a few blankets spread on the ground inside the tree.

  Inside, the tree looked larger than I’d thought. The bark and trunk had patches of transparent laye
rs, and from the inside they glowed orange where the campfire’s light radiated through. Kull used a pair of sticks in a tong-like fashion to place the green-glowing strips of bark throughout the space.

  After we’d moved all our belongings inside the tent, I pulled the makeshift door closed, feeling as if I were sealing us away from the rest of the world.

  The two Wults fell asleep quickly, though I supposed they’d had experience sleeping outdoors. I watched the flickers of green light glow against the tree’s canopy. My mind didn’t want to shut down. Instead, I kept replaying the earlier conversation I’d had with Heidel.

  He didn’t mistreat you?

  Finally, I must have drifted off, because the sound of rustling leaves woke me. The green glow of the elder tree bark had dimmed, making it darker than it had been earlier, but I still managed to see the glint of Bloodbane as Kull rose, holding to his sword. After stepping outside, he quietly replaced the door against the opening.

  His footsteps echoed and then disappeared as he walked away from the tree.

  I waited several minutes, thinking he would return soon, but he never came. Realizing something must have been wrong, I pulled on my boots and cloak. I debated on waking Heidel but thought better of it.

  Outside the tree, the air had grown colder. A thin layer of frost created a glistening sheen on the ground, making the leaves crunch beneath my feet. Moonlight guided my path as I found Kull’s footprints and followed them into the forest.

  What was he doing out here?

  I approached a clearing and stopped, my breath coming out in puffs of white clouds.

  Kull stood at the edge of the forest, and beyond him was a small clearing.

  I walked toward Kull, and he turned, holding a finger to his lips, then motioned me forward. I stopped when I reached his side.

  “What are you doing out here?” I whispered.

  He nodded toward the far edge of the clearing. “A unicorn,” he whispered back.

  I scanned the clearing but saw nothing. “Where is it?”

  “There,” he pointed.

  As I studied the tangle of dark trees, I focused on a slight rustling of leaves, and then I spotted it.

  Unicorns were creatures of magic and power. Most stood taller than the average horse, and their muscled frames spoke of strength and an untamed wildness. Nothing about a unicorn was delicate. As the unicorn walked into the clearing, I took in its translucent horn, which spiraled from its head, pulsing with an occasional spark of blue magic. Its coat shimmered with a pearlescent glow under the moonlight, and his ears were pricked forward as he stared at us with dark, wide eyes. He stood tall, and I almost felt as though I needed to bow. I’d only been in the presence of unicorns a few times before, and each time was a moment I would always remember.

  These were sacred creatures, unchanged by time or seasons, although to see one now surprised me. I’d thought for sure the unicorns’ starstone was missing, which would have transformed them into a dark species. If that were the case, then why did this unicorn look untouched?

  The unicorn took a guarded step forward. “I see you both,” he said, his voice deep yet gentle. “Wult and… elf?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “And half Earthlander.”

  “Half Earthlander,” he said. “How unusual.”

  He flicked his ear, seeming to scrutinize us both. Neither Kull nor I spoke.

  “You may enter my dale,” he said, “as long as your intentions are noble.”

  I noticed that Kull left Bloodbane resting against a tree as we entered the clearing. Smart move on his part, as I’m sure he wasn’t in the mood for getting rammed through by a unicorn’s horn.

  “What brings you to my forest?” he asked.

  I glanced at Kull before answering. I wasn’t sure what to tell the unicorn. What if he made us leave the forest? But since we were only here to help him, I decided not to mince words.

  “We seek knowledge,” I answered. “We’re here to learn who has taken the fair creatures’ gemstones.”

  “I am afraid I can be of no help to you. Those of my kind who remain in this forest have been in hiding for quite some time.”

  “What are you hiding from?”

  He shook his head. “We call it Shadow for none have seen it, but it has taken our stone.”

  This confirmed it. Now we knew for sure that the stone was gone, yet we still didn’t know who took it—or why.

  “If the stone is gone,” I asked, “then how do you remain in your true form?”

  “We survive by not using our magic. Our wise elders warned the creatures of this forest not to use magic after the stone was taken, but there were some who disobeyed because they felt they could control the darkness in themselves. They rebelled, but the prophecy of our elders came to pass. They could not control the magic as they had thought, and so they were transformed.”

  “What do these dark creatures look like?”

  “We do not speak of such things. Theirs is a taint like none other, for once they knew good, and now they know only evil—which makes them exponentially evil. No, we do not speak of our lost brothers and sisters.”

  “Can you at least tell me how long the stone has been missing?”

  “It has been many years.”

  “Years?” I asked, surprised. I turned to Kull. “The fairy stone has only been missing for a week or so.”

  “Yes, meaning whoever took the stones must have taken this one first.”

  “But how would this person or creature have gotten into the forest in the first place?” I asked the unicorn.

  “We do not know.”

  I remembered my vision of the hand in the water, but since it had been a vision, I wasn’t sure of the literal meaning. “Can you show us where the starstone was located?”

  “I cannot, for even now I am in danger. However, its former resting place is not hard to find. The taint starts in the heart of the forest. Follow the trail of death, and there you will find it. There are many creatures in this forest who have been changed because of the missing starstone. That is why I must leave you. Even now, they stalk my kind. Be wary, travelers, for they will not hesitate to kill you.”

  “What sort of creatures are they?” Kull asked.

  “You will know them,” the unicorn said as he backed away from us. “You will know, for they follow me. I must leave now, for they are nearly upon us.” His words faded as he reentered the forest, his shimmering white coat obscured by shadow until he disappeared from sight.

  I turned to Kull as he studied the forest with wary eyes.

  He backed into the woods and retrieved his sword. “They’re here,” he whispered.

  I scanned the woods, but saw nothing. “Where?”

  He shook his head. “All around. It’s what woke me in the first place. There are many of them.”

  Something fluttered in the trees. Quiet laughing whispered through the forest. Chills prickled my skin as at least a dozen forms materialized from the trees’ shadows, though I could only make out vague details in the darkness. They were the size of wood sprites, and they held long spears with tips that glistened in the moonlight.

  With spears lowered at us, they charged. Kull swung his sword, knocking several back, but one of the sprites dodged the sword and rammed his spear into my thigh. The pain made me scream and fall back. I hit the ground as more sprites rushed forward.

  Without thinking, my magic reacted. Blinding amber light radiated from my hands, exploding in a heat so intense it immediately blistered my fingertips. The sprites’ bloodthirsty screams turned to shrieks of pain.

  Fire blazed around us, disorienting me as it flashed like strobe lights on the scene unfolding. Kull’s sword reflected the firelight as he swung at several dark creatures. Despite his efforts, more rushed at him, their sheer numbers nearly overpowering him. He swung with deadly accuracy, knocking back several creatures at a time. Every time I watched him fight, I had trouble remembering he was mortal. There was something preternatural i
n his ability to move with such fluidity and accuracy. He never faltered, a feat I wasn’t sure any other mortal could accomplish. After only a matter of minutes, the battle ended. Those who still lived retreated, leaving us alone in the forest.

  Kull knelt beside me. Gasping for breath, he inspected my wound.

  Inky black liquid oozed from the gash, mingling with my blood. It burned worse than my blistered fingertips.

  “It’s poisoned,” I said. “I’m not sure what type of poison they used,” I bit my tongue as the burning increased, “but I feel like my leg is on fire.”

  He ripped the tear in my pants, exposing the rest of the wound for closer examination. Greenish, web-like marks spread outward from the puncture.

  “Are you familiar with the poison?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he answered. “It’s not good.”

  “Why? What is it?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. “We must get you back to camp. If we cannot find the cure soon, you will die within the hour.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I held back a scream as the pain in my leg increased. Kull and I entered the elder tree, and he helped me sit on the blankets. Heidel awoke as Kull pulled open his pack and began rummaging.

  Tears stung my eyes as the pain blinded me. I clutched at the wound on my thigh. It was such a tiny gash, but the pain was raw and all consuming.

  “What happened?” Heidel asked as she crawled toward me. Her hair was disheveled, and she blinked several times as she tried to focus.

  “We were attacked in the forest,” Kull said.

  “What attacked you?”

  “Some kind of wood sprites,” Kull answered. “They used spears tipped in seranic spider venom.”

  Her brow creased. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, you can examine the wound for yourself.”

  “May I see it?” she asked me.

  My hands were clamped over the wound. Slowly, I pried my hands away, surprised to see how quickly the infection was spreading. The greenish, vein-like marks now encompassed my entire thigh.

  “Have you any antivenom?” she asked Kull.

  “No.”