I would’ve followed him into hell right now to not be left alone with an unknown number of his kind around.
We hadn’t gone much farther before we were descending a slope and ducking into a small opening in the rocks. Torches were lit as we entered what became more of an expansive cavern. Ten feet or so farther, there was a large wooden door.
Bautere let us into a room sparsely furnished with a table and pelts scattered about the place. There was a fire burning in a pit in the center, with a hole above in the ceiling that smoke billowed up to.
“Sit,” he said, pointing to the pelts as he went through another interior door.
I settled down, waiting, wondering why someone wanted to meet me. Was it another one of his kind? I fidgeted with the fur I was sitting on, taking in the place. It was rustic but comfortable. There were iron pans sitting on a shelf and a well in the corner that must’ve been tapped into some sort of spring, as the water seemed to constantly move.
The sound of someone approaching drew my eye to the doorway. Bautere stepped out first but was followed by a smaller version of himself. There was something more diminutive about his companion, and feminine as well. Her gait was slower, as if old bones ground with each movement, but there was still a strength and dignity about her.
“This is Zuda. She is the leader of our kind.”
Leader? I hadn’t known there were others until today, and now there were enough to need a leader? Bautere wasn’t one for words, but maybe he could’ve given me a few details after hours and hours together.
She approached me, and continued to get closer until her muzzle was uncomfortably close. Young teeth or old, those choppers were going to hurt if she decided to take a bite.
I tried not to fidget or move fast. Or to even breathe. I trusted Bautere, but this was a fully grown polar bear sniffing me. Would it be like a dog that could decide it didn’t like something about my scent? Forget a bite—one swipe of her paw might kill me.
She continued to sniff me for another moment, and then pulled back a few feet, taking me in from every angle. An eternity later, she sat.
“I believe you are good. That is not the issue. Your magic is very strong. That I’d already gathered. What I don’t know is, are you strong enough for whatever is to come?”
It was a little hard to answer an open-ended question when I wasn’t quite sure what was to come. That didn’t stop her from staring at me as she waited for an answer.
Would I be strong enough? A year ago I was happy hiding away for the rest of my life. Even now, there would still be a knee-jerk reaction to run and hide. I was stronger than I’d thought, but to manage what was to come? How could I ever make that sort of presumption?
“I’ll try to be. I hope I will be. I don’t want to fail.”
She nodded, as if I’d passed one test. “You’re humble. That’s good. No one knows what they can handle until they have to. I believe you are strong enough, because you’ll have to be. There are many counting upon you to fix this world. If this place perishes, so do we. There is no other place for us. If it is destroyed, so are my people. So are many. You don’t have the luxury of failure. Do you understand?”
I nodded. I understood too well, and I didn’t want to. She was right. Where would her people go if Xest was ever destroyed? Certainly not to Rest. There was no way to pass as normal for them. They were tied to this land like no other. I might hold these people’s lives in my hands, and I didn’t want to let them down.
“Yes,” I replied. Could I do anything to save them? That was an unknown. “I can make something that might ease your pain,” I said, feeling wholly inadequate. She was asking me to save Xest and I was offering her a tonic for age?
“The magic that Bautere tried to give me? I appreciate the offer, but no. I don’t know how much more time I have left in this world, but I’ve already received much. When the spirit comes for me, I’ll be ready. I can leave knowing Bautere will lead. I’ve done what I was put here to do.” She leaned closer. “Now you must fulfill your duties.”
I nodded again, afraid to commit to something that might be impossible.
4
I yawned as I leaned my head on the back of the couch, looking at the lists. There were three columns: With Us, Against Us, and Unknown. The first two were fairly even. The third seemed a mile long.
Hawk was standing beside the list in the crowded room. He liked standing, and even more so when he was ready to fight. Unfortunately, we were having a problem nailing down our enemy to one spot, or one form, or pretty much nailing down anything at all. We still didn’t know what it was, where it came from, or where to find it. Had it always been here and just revealed itself? Had it come from somewhere else? Who knew? Certainly not us.
It was tough when it felt like treading water all the time. It didn’t want to show itself. This had turned into a war with an invisible enemy. There would be grouslie attacks weekly, but Dread wouldn’t show its face. Every week, we talked about what to do and how to pin it down. The meetings never lasted very long.
I glanced around at the people filing in and got sloppy, catching Hawk’s gaze. The silent message was not flattering.
Okay, maybe he was right. I’d been reclining my way through months of them, perfecting my ability to ignore Hawk’s gaze as I did. On meeting nights, I’d don my comfiest pants, grab a throw blanket off the back of the couch before they all got nabbed, and settle in with a hot tea before all the good seats were taken. These meetings weren’t much to begin with. Try sitting through one on a hard stool with no back. Near torture, if you asked me, which nobody did, thankfully.
He kept glaring.
I got it. He wanted me to step up. Now Zuda wanted me to step up. This stepping-up thing was becoming a contagion, and I wasn’t ready to catch it. I’d stepped up enough, and now I was supposed to be up in front? No, and definitely not today.
Considering the monkeys had woken me up five times last night as they laughed at their own jokes, and then I had to meet Zuda as she dumped the fate of their race on me, I’d recline my way through this weekly ordeal.
Musso walked to the list as the crowd finished settling in. Hawk was too busy glaring my way.
“Any updates on the Unknown? Anything suspicious noticed?” Musso knocked on the board with his knuckles.
The Unknown name didn’t make it to a different list unless someone was willing to bet their lives on the person’s allegiance. No one spoke, and a few shook their heads. It was hard to see something out of sorts when people were hunkered down all the time.
Hawk was so intent on me stepping up, but what would it change? As we went through the normal roll calls and usual questions that went unanswered, week after week? People would slowly fade out of the room, as they always did. No one could blame them. They probably had things in their life they could do instead of sitting here and trying to pretend we were being productive. Even Hawk was leaning against a table as if all the drive had leached out of him and his mind was somewhere else.
By the time Bibbi raised her hand, no one was left in the room but the people who lived here. The only reason I was on the couch still was that I was too tired to go upstairs.
Musso squinted, as if he didn’t understand what was going on.