If the calculations were accurate, we’d reach the village tomorrow afternoon. Too late to save Celeste. As though hearing my thoughts, her head slumped.
“Let’s rest,” I said with the attempt to keep my tone light.
Without answering, she laid down. Her chest rose and fell as if breathing were difficult. I set down her body beside a willow tree.
We had not heard the roars of the Bergone, so I hoped both still lingered in the cave. But the Warloc could possess another before long.
Now I had to worry about a Warloc attacking me.
Her horse eyes stared at me as though saying all was lost.
Damn my curse. Wished I had some way of transferring the power from the Bergone surging through me to Celeste. But if I touched her, she’d die.
Her labored breathing brought a cramp to my heart. She suffered and I was powerless to help her.
My hand fingered the garnet jewel of the dagger. The quest of killing the witch did not hold the urgency of yesterday. I flicked the blade into the distance, and it lodged into the ground yards away.
With a smile for her sake, I picked up one of our waterskins. I dropped to Celeste’s side and drizzled water into her muzzle to drink. Her stare held me, but she moved her head away after a swallow. She knew as well as I we’d never reach the village in time.
My fist hit my thigh. Magic could save her, but I did not contain any. Nivel could help her, were he here.
I tossed the waterskin aside and stalked to the cluster of plants to retrieve my dagger.
Snow caked on green stalks stared at me. My breath caught. No magic I had, but knowledge of plants and herbs was taught every Elf from birth.
Yarroway poked through the snow. Even as I bent down and cut the stalks and leaves I knew this would not heal Celeste. But the plant may give us the strength to reach the village.
When I had an armful of yarroway, I rushed to Celeste’s side. “Let me tend your wound.” My dagger again tucked in my boot. After I finished with Celeste, and her spirit in her body, then I would leave.
She let out a sigh, and looked away from me.
I set the yarroway down. Gingerly, I eased the bleeding strips of my tunic from her side.
Skin ripped away with the cloth. Yellow puss oozed from the wounds. Throughout she did not whimper. She gazed into the void instead of at me. The claws must have held poison. Celeste had healed me before, so I did not realize we had another problem to worry about besides time and healing her wounds.
With the dagger, I cut away the rest of the tunic. Opened the stems and leaves, I placed the yarroway over her wounds. She inhaled sharply as her flank shook.
At last, every piece of the plant covered a bleeding wound.
“Don’t move.” I raced back to my pack and removed my extra pair of trousers. Ripped one leg into strips, then I tied the ends together. “When you’re ready, I’ll rewrap you for the journey. For now the air will aid the healing.”
Using the dagger I dug into the frozen ground. The blood crusted to the old strips may draw the Bergone to us.
When I thought I had a deep enough hole, I kicked the bloody strips inside and buried them.
I wished Celeste could speak. Already I missed her voice. And perhaps she’d answer the questions racing through my mind about the Bergone and this Warloc.
How did he know her? Why did he pursue her with such fierceness?
Searched the grounds until I found another cluster of yarroway, then I cut another armful. The sun dipped behind the tips of the trees marking the afternoon. I checked on Celeste’s body beside the willow tree.
Blood was caked on her dress where the Bergone had clawed her. Easing aside the material, I placed the yarroway leaves and stems until the sap covered her wound.
Tore the edge of her grey dress, and wrapped the wound tight. But she did not stir.
Sheathed my dagger into my boot and waited beside the willow tree. Regret filled me of all I had done to save her, but the sun dragged through the sky toward dusk, and I hadn’t done enough.
A rustle sounded behind me and to the left. Clutching my sword hilt, I rose.
My shoulders sagged, but I would not give up on Celeste. Wind prickled my skin. On light feet, I crept to where the sound arose. But nothing but branches enclosed in ice revealed themselves to me.
Uneasy, I rushed back to Celeste’s body. She was still unconscious. Then I stared toward Celeste’s essence within the horse.
Her eyes were rolled up in the back of her head.
I didn’t remember running, but then I was at her side. Her chest no longer rose.
“Celeste,” I called out to her, but she did not move.
Laid my head near her heart. Faintly I felt the thump of a beat. I stroked her mane hoping she would live. Grief trampled my heart. Why hadn’t I been more persistent she leave without me before the Bergone attacked? “Celeste?”
After what seemed endless strokes, her breathing returned and her heartbeat grew stronger. She lifted her head and nodded. Moved to stand up, but I restrained her.
“Wait. Let me tie your side.” I snatched up the pieces and wrapped them around her. She rose on shaky legs for me to secure the strips around the other side of her and tie them.
Believing the sound earlier was my imagination, I sheathed my sword. Donned my pack, but decided to leave the saddle behind.
If Celeste survived, I’d buy her a new saddle. I hiked to the willow tree, and eased Celeste’s body off the ground.
Before I spun around, Celeste trotted through a narrow path.
While her strength wavered, I carried her body and raced through the trees after her.
Dusk colored the sky. But ahead, I saw the glimmer of fire. Minutes before the moon would rise. How we’d come this far this fast was beyond my reasoning. The village should be hours away.
Celeste must have seen the flickering too, for her four legs moved faster toward them.
I glanced behind me, but didn’t recognize the scenery where we just came from. When Celeste was healed, I’d ask her.
Apparently, Celeste knew where the woman lived, for she turned left and cantered down a pebbled road.
I chased after her, her body in my arms.
Turning three more times, she led me to a dark alleyway. Outside a thatched roof house, she collapsed.
Afraid to question her and wanting this to be the right home, I rapped on the wooden door. At first no sign of life answered from inside. Then, a hacking cough sounded and the door creaked open.
A woman with dull gray hair stood before me. Her eyes bright as she glanced down at Celeste’s body then at me. “Bring them in. Quick before the moonlight touches them.”
Inside I set Celeste’s body down. Then I rushed outside to help Celeste’s horse form up.
“Almost there,” I whispered to encourage her.
Her legs wobbled, but she moved inside the cottage.
The old woman slammed the door shut behind us.
“Move aside,” she said pushing past me, “can’t help by looming over them.”
I watched as she fingered back Celeste’s hair. Her nose scrunched up at the scent of the skunk, but otherwise nothing changed.
The woman hummed and pulled bottles from shelves beside the window. Through the curtains, I saw the moon winking in the distance.
“Don’t we need to hurry?” I asked.
She glared back at me, but continued her humming. Set the jars beside Celeste along the table. When she finished, she held out her hand.
“Give me her athame.”
“H-her what?” I stammered.
“Athame.”
I glanced around, but saw nothing.
“In your boot,” she said.
“My dagger?” I eased the blade from my boot and handed it to her.
She cut a line down Celeste’s arm.
“What are you doing?” I asked pushing forward.
“Healing her.” She opened a bottle of pungent liquid and poured it into the wound.
Celeste’s body convulsed. Opening another jar, she dusted the dried herbs across the wound.
“Take care and set what right as was before. Ease the nature of this beast back into the home of horse,” her words radiated though the cottage.
Then, the woman limped to the horse body lying on the dirt floor.
“Set back and make right as was before. Remove the nature of this woman back into her home of flesh.” She used the dagger and cut a wound down the horse’s chest. Poured the sour liquid inside and sprinkled herbs from two different bottles.
A groan sounded on the table.
“Celeste.” The fresh wound on her chest bubbled.
“Move away, Elfling,” the old woman said, “I’m only half done.”
She shook her hands over Celeste. Fascinated, I watched as the open wound sealed, then disappeared. Healed, Celeste sat up.
“We don’t have much time.” She reached over to the old woman and squeezed her arm. “Together we’ll heal Shadowdancer.”
Jumping off the table, Celeste went to Shadowdancer with the woman at her heels. Their hands and arms formed a circle around the wound from the Bergone.
Chanting, they hovered over the blood seeping through the dressing. They took off the dressing and yarroway, then they spat on the open wound. The flesh melded back together even as the cut along his front leg closed up. Shadowdancer nickered.
He rose. Then pawed the ground with a hoof.
“Aye, glad to be back in my body too.” She rubbed his nose and I noticed the bruises along her hand were gone.
“Your hand?” I pointed to the splint still tied to her hand. “The bruises are gone.”
“Aye. We’d no time for a focused healing. So all ailing me and Shadowdancer is no more.” As she unwrapped her bandaged hand she moved passed me to the old woman. “You had the right to refuse my call. Thanks and blessings.” She hugged her.
“I know. But I’ve lived a long enough life.”
Dumbfounded, I glanced from Celeste to the woman and back again. How did I end up on this quest of witches? And here were two before me that left me baffled.
I reached into my coin pouch to pay the woman, but she shook her head.
“No, she’s family. Besides I’ve no more use for copper or silver.”
To honor my word to a grieving father, I pulled out the medallion. “Have you seen this before?”
I didn’t expect an answer, but her eyes lit up in recognition.
“You’ve seen this before.”
“Aye, one like it.”
“When? Where?”
“Hurry,” she said and gave Celeste’s shoulders a squeeze with her wrinkled hands. “That much power we used will alert him of your presence here.”
“Come with us, I fear for your safety.”
“Nay,” she coughed a laugh, “I will remain here. He’ll not drive me from my home.”
A crash sounded in the forest within miles of us.
“Where? I search for the young man who owns this. His father — ”
“There’s no time. Go, I’ll do all I can to slow them.” She handed Celeste the garnet dagger.
“Look for them in the north. Last I saw him and the others; they were on their way to the monks for help. I warned them not to go, but his friends would rather burn me and my house than listen.”
Celeste kissed the woman on the cheek, then grasped the reins and led Shadowdancer outside.
In the darkness, I saw the trees sway from the path of the Bergone as they raced toward us.
Celeste mounted and looked down at me. “Come. They mustn’t see us leave.”
I mounted behind her. Shadowdancer galloped away.
We raced up a hill, and I glanced behind me at the old woman’s cottage. Silhouettes of Bergone surrounded the wooden structure. Pounded their fist through the cottage, they let out a howling scream.
Blue light burst forth from the inside the home.
“Goodbye, Aunt Laurel,” Celeste whispered.
I’d have asked her questions, but I felt her sobs.
All night we rode. As the sun glared overhead, I saw Celeste’s head fall forward. Moments later, she jerked her head up.
“Let’s stop and rest. Saw a cave a mile back.”
She started to shake her head, but I knew she needed sleep.
“Shadowdancer tires,” I added.
With a sigh she jerked the reins. “Only for an hour.”
Shadowdancer turned back.
“There, past the oak.”
“Is it safe?” she asked.
Outside the cave, she slumped off Shadowdancer. Glancing down, I saw no animal tracks. But to make sure, I bowed down into the cave.
After my vision adjusted to the darkness, I saw no signs of life within the cave. Eased out, then I dusted my hands down my tunic. “Safe enough.”
She smiled, but one corner of her mouth didn’t. After a pat for Shadowdancer, she then crawled inside the cave.
While she slept, I found a stream and refilled the waterskins. Kept my ears alert, for Shadowdancer would make noise if anyone or thing approached the cave.
When I stepped back to the cave, Shadowdancer nibbled at grass. Luckily the snow had melted to reveal brown patches.
The power from the Bergone still surged through me. With any luck, I’d not need to devour again for weeks.
At the thought of eating, I opened my pack and dug inside. Since our encounter with the Bergone, my pack was almost empty. I found one winter apple and two handfuls of flat bread.
Not enough for more than a meal, but we’d find another village soon. With the thought, I checked the coins in my pouch. Two coppers left, and the medallion of the woman with the fishtail. I shook my head; did I believe the coins would increase from last time I checked?
My eyes drifted back to the cave. Perhaps in the next village, I would find the blasted dagger and do what prophecy demanded no matter how it churned my insides. Maybe it was better to finish this now while she was sleeping.
Taking advantage of Celeste asleep, I crept around the campsite and looked for the garnet dagger.
The blade was not in my pack. Or anywhere I saw. She must have the dagger with her.
I leaned back against a pine tree, and watched the clouds scuttle across the sky. Tomorrow. I would give her one more day.
• • •
Five hours later, the sun dipped lower. Just a few hours of light left. Hated to wake Celeste, but we needed to keep moving.