Chapter 11
The night.
There would have been a time, not long ago, when Kyven would have been a little wary to be out in the middle of the forest in the middle of the night, but this was now his time. His spirit sight showed the forest everything that mattered, showed him the world as clearly as a human would see it in midday. He could see every possum and mouse, see every bat and owl, clearly in his eyes, almost radiant as the light of their life energy shone in the spirit world, and was vibrantly visible to him. But those animals could not see him. He could feel the coolness around him, the coolness that told him that he was blended in with the shadows, invisible in the night, a living ghost, a living shadow unseen, unnoticed as he loped steadily yet a little painfully on an injured foot to the west, loped into the highest parts of the forested Smoke Mountains. The hardwood forest was cool that night, a sign that summer was starting to wane, that soon the leaves would begin to turn, and that autumn would be taking grip on the land.
They were behind him. He could sense it. Toby was behind him, probably holed up for the night somewhere because it was cloudy and the moon was blocked, using whatever tricks he knew to track Kyven. He was good, there was no doubt about that, very, very good. Good enough for Kyven to be afraid of him, of him and his alchemical weapons and utensils.
There was more than him he could sense. She was back. He could sense her. He knew she was somewhere close, somewhere near him, watching him. She hadn't approached him yet, but he could feel her.
He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He still hated what she did to him, but some small part of him… understood. Understood what she was trying to show him, understood what she wanted him to know. She'd wanted him to know the Arcans, know them in a way that he'd never have known them as a human. She wanted him to understand them, understand their pain, understand their desperation and hopelessness. She wanted him to see a world where your wife may be sold away, you children may be slaughtered before your very eyes for their fur, and you were helpless.
She wanted him to feel helpless. She wanted him to know what it was like to live or die by the whim of another. She wanted him to be locked in a cage with Arcans, learn from them, learn their customs… and she was successful. Kyven knew now the very simple way Arcans looked at the world, the world of right now, where tomorrow might bring the slaver's cage, or the furrier's steel club. He could be accepted into an Arcan group, understood their need to touch, understood their need to be together, for all the Arcans had was each other.
But still. He understood what she did and why she did it, his major issue was how. She could have found a much less vicious way to do it. She had tricked him into making a deal that gave her total power over him, then she had used it to brutal effect. She didn't care about him. He was nothing but her possession, her slave, her toy. He was much thrall to her as he had been to Arthur Ledwell, and she had precious little more compassion. To regain his humanity, he had to please her, had to perform for her like a puppet.
But that begged the question… so what?
So what? So what if he stayed like this the rest of his life? Would it bother him? Did he spend every day lamenting his lost humanity? Not really, at least not after he escaped from Alamar. Once he was free, he actually didn't mind it all that much. Being an Arcan actually gave him strengths and advantages that he had learned to use. Even now, he was using the gift his totem gave him, the power of her shadow foxes to use the shadows to become invisible, which allowed him to lope through the night, his clothes tied to his belly by a thin vine to minimize the visible parts of him. He wanted to keep his clothes for use in Deep River, so he had to bring them along, but he couldn't make the clothes vanish with him. So he folded them up and tied them to him, so they were a much smaller object that appeared to be floating through the dark forest.
So what? So, if he wasn't really obsessed with becoming human again, then why did he care what the fox thought of him?
Because the reason he wanted to become human again might be following him right now.
Danna Pannen. Even her name was beautiful. She was gorgeous, she had a beautiful name, she was smart, and she even smelled nice to his Arcan nose. He'd never been so attracted to a woman before, but in a cruel twist, he couldn't have her. He saw that look on her face when he licked her. He was an Arcan, and she was a human. And where human men might have sufficient lust to ignore that fact when raping Arcan females, human women weren't quite so general in their tastes. If he wanted even a chance with Danna, he had to be human again.
That damn fox. She was putting out the bait, she was teasing him with something he wanted to make him reconcile to her. He could not please her if he was rejecting her. She wanted him compliant, and though she had angered him, now she was luring him out with the promise of reward.
She was playing him. And fuck him, if he wasn't about ready to eat out of her hand. He wanted a chance to get to know Danna, and she wouldn't have him as an Arcan. So, he had to knuckle under to the fox, obey her, forgive her but never forget what she'd done to him, and walk her path once again.
He wouldn't be surprised if Danna had been in Atan for no reason other than to have Kyven see her. The fox was cunning and manipulative, he wouldn't put it past her.
She was there.
He literally slid to a halt, for she was standing–not sitting, standing–in the game trail he was using. The sight of her incited the last reaction he ever expected out of himself; he bared his fangs and growled at her threateningly. She bared her fangs in return, taking a menacing step forward, and that act snapped him back to reality. She was a spirit. He couldn't so much as lay a finger on her, but she could touch him. But that didn't cool his ire with her. She had been the one to sink him into that misery and agony, and at that moment, he didn't give a fuck how much he needed her if he wanted to be human again. He growled and stood his ground when she advanced slowly on him, which seemed to provoke her. She charged him with fangs bared, and he was caught between being mad enough with her to fight and understanding he was an ant biting a grizzly bear.
As if he could put up any resistance. She was little more than half his size, yet she hit him so hard he felt like he'd fell off a cliff. He was driven up onto his legs, then fell over backwards. He fell painfully on his tail as he tried to roll through and back onto his feet, but the fox was as fast as she was powerful, jumping over his legs as he fell backwards, then clamping her jaws onto his neck as soon as his back hit the ground. He slid a little on the trail, then she gripped him so firmly that he felt his throat constrict, felt her fangs punch through his skin and draw blood, sliding off his chest and yanking on him. He tried to push her off, but his hands could find nothing there. She could touch him, but he could not touch her. She literally dragged him off the trail by his neck, as he gasped for breath, then he realized that resistance wasn't just futile, it was stupid, and he went limp. He submitted to her, which caused her to stop yanking on him, putting her forepaw up on his chest, releasing her pressure on his neck but keeping her jaws clamped on him in a pure show of dominance. She held him like that for long, long moments, as thoughts of indignance and anger and hatred mixed with the understanding that she held power over him, both figuratively and literally, and she'd kill him if he pissed her off too much. That was what this little show was about, he realized, the show of naked force to show him just who was boss.
She released her jaws from his neck, finally, then started licking his neck, licking the puncture wounds she'd made there. He tongue felt… soothing. He wanted to bite her back, even in his submission, but she was untouchable, and he was completely overmatched. So he just laid there and allowed her to lick his wounds, her tongue strangely soothing and warm. She stopped, then padded down to his feet, put her paw on his knee, then started licking at the injury caused by the snaring whip Toby used on him. Again, her tongue was soothing, warm, almost gentle, but he had to resist the urge to try to drive his claws into her back. He did that by not even moving, not even looking at her, just letting her do as she wanted, which, at the moment, was taking the dull pain out of his foot. Every lick of her tongue took a little bit of the pain with it. Was she… healing him? He put his hand to his neck, and found no pain there, no tenderness. She had bitten him, then she licked away his wounds.
She finished. She appeared in his field of vision, putting her paws on his chest and looking down into his eyes, her own glowing eyes both deliberate and steady. You have pleased me, she stated. I will again grant you my blessing. Return to training your magic.
He wasn't sure if he was happy or not about that. "What about–"
Do not ask for what I may or may not give you, Shaman. You made this bargain. Honor it with dignity. When you please me sufficiently, and only when you please me sufficiently, will I give back what I have taken. Never ask again.
He almost choked on the words. "I will obey."
Her demeanor seemed to change slightly. And that pleases me. I took no pleasure in doing this to you, Shaman, because despite what you think, I do not find enjoyment in inflicting pain on others. It is not the way of the fox. I merely did what must be done, both to teach you wisdom and also to punish you for making so dreadfully foolish a bargain. No more, no less. That it angers you is irrelevant, for you brought it on yourself, and I will not tolerate my Shaman being foolish. All that is relevant is you have learned from your mistake, and learned the lessons I wished to teach you. Remember this well, Shaman. I seek not your affection, nor your approval. I require only your obedience.
Her cold demeanor infuriated him, but he was totally helpless against her. He did make that deal, and she had complete power over him because of it. "I will obey," he growled.
Then do as I have commanded. Specifically, I wish you to practice the spell of silence. You must build up your ability to channel a maintained spell. Most of the spells I wish to teach you are maintained, so you must be able to channel sustained magic over time.
"May I ask a question?"
Proceed.
"How far behind is Toby?"
He is actually ahead of you, she answered with a toothy little smile. He correctly assumes you seek the settlement of Deep River and passed you in the night en route to it, but does not know it. Guard well against that one, Shaman. Treat him with respect. He is dangerous in ways even you do not understand, but will come to learn in time.
"As you command," he acknowledged, but that wasn't news to him. He could tell that Toby was no man to cross the first time they met.
But do not dawdle. Others are behind you, and you must be wary.
"The Loreguard," he growled.
She nodded once. They seek to capture you to learn your secret. Be very careful, Shaman. Though the female has interest in learning the secret of your transformation, her men will not hesitate to kill you. Do not let your guard down against them.
"I'll be careful," he promised. "They have to be on horseback, so they can't go that fast. That will let me keep moving and practice."
She nodded, pulling her paws off of him and standing beside him. He sat up, leaning on his hand, and realized she may ease his mind about one thing. "Spirit, what happened to Silver?"
She leaned over and nuzzled his muzzle. She was sold to a breeding master of some repute. She is cared for in a way she finds adequate. She is not abused.
"Did she, uh, did we?"
No.
"I'm not sure how to feel about that. It would have made her happy, but I would have hated the idea of my child being born in a place where they'd slaughter him for his fur."
I would not permit that. You are mine, Shaman, as are your progeny. I did not introduce the powers of my foxes into the Arcans to watch them slaughtered for their fur.
"Powers? But I can only do one thing."
You have not even scratched the surface of your powers as a shadow fox, she answered bluntly. There is much more to it than blending with the shadow. You are the shadow, Shaman, capable of far more than my foxes because you are more intelligent and can comprehend the abstract nature of your abilities that they cannot. In time, you will come to understand just what you can do.
"You won't teach me?"
No. The power of shadow is my gift to you. I will not teach you, you must learn on your own, as any shadow fox kit must learn without any help from its mother. You will find, in time, that the gift I have given you can rival your Shaman magic in some ways.
"I'm really starting to think you had all of this planned out since before I knew I was a Shaman."
There is wisdom in being prepared, she answered, rather cheekily, then she pulled away from him. She gave him a single look, then padded into the shadows. Those shadows seemed to melt her body away, and then she was gone.
Bitch. Trinity, he hated that fox… but what could he do?
For once, the Arcan mantra served him.
But the good thing was, she said she was returning her blessing. He had to try it, just to be sure, holding his hands apart and channeling lightning, causing an arc of it to jump from hand to hand, showing him the truth. He could again use Shaman magic, and she wanted him back to work with practicing his magical endurance, specifically in channeling maintained spells. He knew only one, the spell of silence, but that spell would be just fine for practicing, if only because it was undetectable. It wouldn't make any sound or light, it wouldn't burn down the forest or anything like that. It was a good spell for learning without attracting attention to himself.
He could do that after he stopped for the morning to rest through the light of day. Right now, there was still a good few hours until dawn, and he needed to put as much distance between him and the Loreguard chasing him as he could. Odds were, they were camped right now, and would move during the day, so he needed to get far enough ahead that they didn't catch up with him while he was resting.
She was following him. That made him feel… happy. She'd have nothing to do with him like this, but at least he'd be able to look at her, know she was close, be able to get those clothes off of her using spirit sight and view her in all her naked, wondrous glory…
Best not think about that too much. With his dick swinging free, he was sure to get an erection while on the run if he kept thinking about the luscious bounty underneath those clothes. And he'd definitely get an erection thinking about her.
He continued on after getting his bearings using his compass, filled with both questions and hope. Much as he hated what the fox did to him, the fact that she seemed pleased did make him a little happy. He might be regaining his humanity soon, with work and maybe some luck. He was honestly happy that she was again giving him her blessing, for with his Shaman magic at his command, he would never be caged or collared again. He could fight, fight in a way that would make it very hard for anyone to capture him. He was much less afraid of Toby now, for now he could fight… but he'd still respect Toby's prowess. Even with his Shaman magic, Toby would be formidable.
Kyven continued on, feeling much more confident.
Shaman magic would feel almost like cheating.
In the murky light of a clouded sunrise, Kyven burst out from the shadows at a herd of deer, so close that he was literally within their midst before they even registered his presence. He'd already picked out his target, the largest of the does, and the animal never had a chance. Kyven was too close, he was too fast, and he'd struck from complete surprise. By the time the doe had turned to run, he was already on its back, claws hooked into it to give him a deadly grip on the animal, driving it down to the ground under him. The other deer scattered as the animal struggled under his weight, but then it shuddered when Kyven's jaws clamped on its neck and literally crushed its windpipe. He drove his claws deeper into it to hold it down, hold it still as his jaws suffocated the life out of it, then he rose up on all fours over it, holding it by the neck, and shook it violently, driving his teeth deeper and deeper, until he was totally sure it was dead. Even after it was dead, though, he kept his bite, almost savoring the taste of blood, until he realized that he didn't have time to play with his food. He released his bite and licked at the wound absently, licking up the blood, then released his grip on it and rolled the deer over on its side. He ripped its belly with his claws, then began feeding on it.
He wondered how far behind him the Loreguard was as he sought out the deer's liver, his favorite part. They were riding horses through virgin forest, with no roads, barely more than game trails, so they couldn't be moving fast at all. The tricky thing was Toby. Toby was now in front of him, racing to reach Deep River first to intercept him there, which meant that he'd have to approach that town carefully. Toby would already be there, would have time to know the town and be ready for him to show up. He was sure that Virren had sent the message to the Masked that Kyven was going to Deep River, so it was just a matter of waiting until they came for him. He'd have to keep an eye out for them even as he evaded Toby, and had to get it all done before the Loreguard caught up with them. As much as he loved how Danna Pannen looked, the fox had warned him to be very, very careful, so he'd rather just leave her in his fantasies and not see her again.
He heard a faint rustling to his right, distant rustling. He thought it was the wind at first, but then he felt faint trembling in the ground under his hands and feet. The rustling got louder, and he heard the creaking of wood as the ground literally began to shake. Kyven rose up from his kill, chewing and swallowing the last bit of kidney as the sound attracted his full attention, until a dark shadow appeared deep in the woods, and approached. Kyven backed up a step or two, every spell he knew going through his mind as he rose up onto his legs and watched that shadow approach him, until a pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the gloom, and the owner of those eyes took form as it got close enough to see.
An Ursorax! A monster! They were magically transformed black bears, three times bigger than black bears, a behemoth that was seven rods tall on all fours and weighed nearly half a ton! The shaggy-furred behemoth advanced, squeezing between trees, bending wood away from it, until it was close enough for Kyven to fully appreciate how huge this thing really was. Its front legs were slightly longer than its back legs, giving it a hunched posture as it bared its fangs at Kyven, then roared in challenge.
The kill. It wanted his kill.
It could have it. Magic or no, Kyven wasn't stupid enough to take on a monster with unknown magical powers, a monster Kyven might not even be able to affect with magic in the first place! Some monsters were immune to alchemical weapons, and that meant that they were also immune to Shaman magic, since they were virtually one and the same. Kyven backed away from the massive behemoth carefully, keeping his eyes on it at all times as it advanced boldly to the deer, a deer that was only about twice the size of the huge beast's head. He backed up, backed up to a large tree, then got behind it, turned, and ran like hell. Kyven heard bones snapping as the monster probably ate half the deer in one bite, and he left the Ursorax to finish off his deer as he bolted at full speed. He wasn't stopping now. He was stopping nowhere near that beast. Toby would be on the move soon, and he was in front of him, so there was no risk of crossing paths with the hunter. And since the Loreguard would be moving forward slower than him, there was no danger of them catching up to him. He would put quite a bit of distance between him and that thing, find another deer, and then do his training and get some rest.
Healthy fear kept him going all through the morning. He was afraid that stopping would let that beast catch up with him, if it was tracking him. He ran on until early afternoon, then decided that it was far enough… but he sure as hell was not sleeping on the ground. He spent an hour hunting down another deer, killing it but not eating anything from it, instead slinging it over his shoulder and climbing the biggest tree he could find, a massive oak tree with branches thicker around than some trees, a tree so big the monster couldn't knock it over to get at him without waking him up well before it happened. He climbed high into the tree, well out of reach of the Ursorax, found a nice branch that was wide enough for him to lay on comfortably, then draped the deer over it and bent to his other task. He channeled the spell of silence, centering it on the deer, and found out quickly just how demanding a maintained spell could be. After just ten seconds, he felt the strain of the magic flowing through him, but he knew the key was to hold the spell as long as possible. The longer he held it, the longer he'd be able to do it when he recovered. He gritted his teeth as he felt the magic flow through him, draining his strength. He started to pant as the magic sucked all the strength out of him, making his muscles physically ache. He held the spell for a full minute, his heart starting to pound, his claws digging into the bark of the tree as the exhaustion literally became physical pain, a wracking ache that settled into his muscles as he strained to hold the spell. Spots started forming in his eyes, then he gave a choking gasp and had to let go of the spell. He sagged to the branch, sucking in air hungrily as he felt the exhaustion roar through him. But he quickly felt his strength return, much faster than it had when he was human… an aspect of an Arcan body maybe? He wasn't sure. But he felt strong enough to try again after just a few minutes, so he did so.
He didn't last as long the second time, but was rested enough for a third, then a fourth, then a fifth. Each successive attempt didn't last as long as the one before. After he nearly passed out trying to maintain the spell for the fifth time, he felt a strange weariness in him that told him he could go no further, so he made himself comfortable on the branch and fell asleep.
As he expected, he was ravenously hungry when he woke up, woke up sometime in the night. His deer was still laying there, waiting for him, and he attacked it with hungry enthusiasm. It was a little… bleh, eating it cold, though. He was used to eating his kills immediately after catching them, so to eat the deer when it was cool made it taste a little strange. But he was too hungry to care too much, quickly devouring the nutritious organs, then skinning the animal and wrapping up some of its choice cuts of meat, using the cold spell at a lower intensity to chill the meat so it would keep longer. That touch on his Shaman magic didn't even make him twitch; practicing maintained spells strengthened both aspects of his Shaman powers, both his ability to channel instant spells and his ability to channel maintained spells.
He had company, he saw. A pair of wolves were pacing under his tree, sniffing at it, looking up it. Both of them looked thin and hungry. They must have smelled his kill, and were looking for it. Well, he was done with it, and there was plenty of meat left on it. He hooked the deer's carcass by the head and slung his wadded clothes over his shoulder and started down the tree, and when he was down far enough, he dropped the remains by the trunk. That startled the two wolves, but they quickly came back to the carcass and started tearing into it.
And that taught him an important lesson. He was a climber, and his best defense was in the trees, where only other climbers could reach him… and he was a hell of a lot bigger than most climbers. The only thing he really had to worry about in the trees were cougars and other climbing Arcans. He needed to do his sleeping off the ground, and his first impulse when facing danger would need to be climbing out of reach, as he'd done against Toby and Danna. He went out on one of the lower braches a ways and then dropped to the ground, causing the two wolves to look at him, rising up and growling at him, but he took a few steps back, which made them calm down and return to the kill. They saw he had no interest in their meal, and did not want to fight, so he was of no more importance.
He tied his clothes to his belly once again, checked his bearings using the compass, having to use the fire spell to create a lick of flame and maintain it to give him enough light to see the compass. It taught him something he hadn't known before; he could maintain an instant spell. Did that mean there was no difference between instant spells and maintained spells?
There sure was. He was channeling only a candlewick of flame, but the drain on him was surprising for how little magic he was using. This spell wasn't intended to be maintained, and so it cost much more to maintain it. That meant that there had to be another form of fire spell that was intended to be maintained, something like this, that channeled only a small flame for light or to start a fire.
It also showed him that he needed to experiment. The fox wasn't really teaching him, she was letting him go on his own. He needed to explore the boundaries of magic, see what he could do and what he could not do, learn on his own when she was not teaching him.
He released the spell and dropped to all fours, then loped off into the shadows, leaving the wolves behind.
It took him two more days to reach the Deep River, and he understood Virren's warning about the ferry.
It was at least a half a minar across, filled with dark brown water. The water was cool, almost cold, he found when he tested it from the treeline, a treeline that advanced all the way down to the riverbank. Getting wet didn't concern him, for it had been raining all night and he was soaked through. He'd reached the river in the early morning, seeing its wide river valley in the distance just at sunrise, and continuing on to investigate the river in the morning light, as he wouldn't be able to see the water using spirit sight.
Fuck, that was a long way across. But he needed to find a way. If Toby was going to beat him to Deep River, then the ferry was going to be his primary stakeout. He had to get across the river before getting there, to eliminate that advantage and trick Toby. But this… this was a fucking big river. He wasn't all that great of a swimmer, but he had great endurance. He could swim it, but it would take him at least an hour or two, and he'd have to be careful not to be caught by the current and pulled under. He could see the current in the water, see that it wasn't smooth and even. It had swirls and eddies in it, warning him that the current would be a danger to him.
Hmm… maybe he didn't need to swim. Maybe he needed a raft.
That was easy enough. Ice floats, after all.
He did need to prepare, and that required him to hunt. He fanned out and found a small herd of deer about an hour after starting, four does with a fawn, and unfortunately, he needed at least two of them. He watched them to learn which doe was the mother of the fawn, so as to spare it. He didn't need that much hide, and there was no reason to leave the fawn to cruel fate when he could avoid it. The other does would supply the hide he needed, as well as plenty of food.
It was his first experiment. He first created silence around the does, and then immediately attempted to channel lightning. He found he could do it, but the attempt nearly put him on his knees, both having to maintain a spell and then channel an instant spell on top of it. It did its job, though. The does looked up when the flash of light from the lightning illuminated their tiny clearing, instantly killing the doe in the rear. The does looked around, saw one of their own laying on the ground with smoke wafting up from its head, which made them skittish and afraid. He dropped the spell of silence, feeling weary, too tired to try to chase one down the proper way, so he channeled lightning once again, knocking the largest of the does off her feet. The other two does and fawn bolted at the thunderclap, all going in the same direction, but did not kill the big doe he hit. He gritted his teeth and charged out on weak arms and legs as the doe tried to stagger to its feet, a black circle on its neck from the lightning strike, and he finished her off the old fashioned way. He held her down with his claws as his jaws finished her, literally laying atop the big doe to hold her down as his jaws suffocated her by crushing her windpipe. He licked at her neck after she was dead, licking at the blood as his stomach began to protest its empty state, but he couldn't eat here. He threw the smaller doe over his shoulders and dragged the bigger doe by the hind legs, taking them back to the river.
He had to skin both does, so instead of eating as much of one of them as he could, he instead ate the best parts from both of them, emptying out their abdominal cavities. After he ate his fill, he used his claws to strip the hides off the two does, then butchered off as much of the meat as he could manage with his claws. He froze that meat using the cold spell, saving it for later, then he bent to the task of making a raft for himself. That he accomplished with a log and Shaman magic. He found an old log and pulled it to the river, then pushed it in. As soon as it had enough draft under it and started to float away, he hit it with the cold spell, as powerful as he could make it. The blast froze the water about two rods to each side around the log all the way down to the bottom, forming a stable ice platform, which he immediately loaded with his meat, a few heavy sticks and branches and rocks on one side for stability, and then he spread the hides out on his side to protect him from having to stand or kneel directly on the ice, then put on his clothes to offer another layer of protection. He boarded his makeshift raft, kneeling on the opposite side from his ballast with a long, sturdy branch in his hands. He had to use all his strength to dislodge the ice sheet from the bank, but he finally broke free, then poled away from the bank with his branch, sliding out into the Deep River.
When he couldn't touch the bottom anymore with his branch, he used it like a paddle, kneeling by the edge of his raft and clumsily paddling out into the main river. The current caught his raft and sent him downriver, which forced him to alter his plan a little. He couldn't manage to keep the raft going straight across, so he instead paddled with the current but at a slight angle, which would drift him across the river and also serve to get him closer to the Deep River settlement, since it was downriver from him. He actually rather enjoyed the rafting, kneeling there on the deer hides, feeling the fur on them under his feet–and feeling a few fleas skittering around on his foot and legs, he'd have to do something about that–taking in the view of the river valley with the hills on each side of the relatively flat valley floor. A few of the hills were bare, rocky faces dotted with small islands of trees or grass along their faces where tenacious plants had taken root. The day was warm but cloudy, the rain had stopped but the clouds remained, and there was a wind blowing on the river that helped finish drying out his fur from the rains the night before.
It took him nearly three hours to get across the river, for it was almost impossible to steer the raft. He was at the mercy of the currents, and more than once he got near the opposite side only to have the currents drag him back towards the center. He struggled to break through that current that sought to pull him back out, until he got help in the form of a rather sharp curve in the river, sharper than any other curve he'd seen up until then. The curve helped him for it curved the bank he wanted to reach into his path, and that forward momentum, combined with some frenzied paddling, finally let him break free of the current and get into stiller, calmer water. He alternated paddling with testing with his pole for the bottom, until he found the bottom and used his branch to pole himself over to a surprisingly steep riverbank. He anchored his raft to the riverbank using the cold spell, freezing it in place. He stayed on the raft, wrapping his frozen meat in the hide, then he jumped up onto the riverbank, feeling quite satisfied. He now had the river between him and the Loreguard and without any boat to ferry their horses across, they may as well be all the way across the Angry Sea. Toby was going to be in Deep River already–which was only about a day away, if he was where he thought he was–but he would expect Kyven to be coming from the other side. He'd be watching the ferry, which would let Kyven slip into town behind him, find him, and then keep track of him while he waited for the Masked to come.
That would be the tricky part. He had no idea who they were, so he had to be visible. People had to know he was in Deep River so the Masked would know, but with Toby already there, that meant exposing himself to the hunter–
No. No, it did not. The fox had given him back his powers, and he remembered what Virren told him, and what he'd known about Shaman. Shaman could drain mana crystals. Toby could never collar him, because he could just drain the crystal in the collar and render it useless. But, the fox also told him to be very wary of the hunter, that he was dangerous in ways Kyven didn't understand. So, though he felt confident that he'd never be collared by Toby, he still had to be cautious about the man because of the unnamed danger he posed.
He had to stop and feel a little electric thrill go through him. He could never be collared again. It was, it was, liberating! He felt almost giddy at the thought of it! He would never have to fear being in a collar, being a slave. He could free himself, free himself whenever he wished. The dread of the Ledwell collar and the sight of the blue ring of Alamar drained away in his mind. The memory of it would always be there, but the fear that it would happen again evaporated like fog facing the morning sun.
He searched out a good tree to spend the rest of the day, a nice stout oak with an almost hammock-like branch that let him stretch out and not worry at all about falling out. He again exhausted himself using the silence spell, then wearily pulled off his clothes to use as a pillow and nodded off to sleep, feeling more safe and secure than he had in a long time, for he went to sleep knowing that his enemies were out of reach of him, and knowing that should they actually catch him, they could never collar him.
He would never be a slave to the humans again.
Fleas. Trinity curse the maddening fleas.
He'd never had problems with fleas before, but he sure was having a problem with him now. He could feel them skittering around under his fur, crawling all over him, and he flinched wherever they bit him, feeding off of him with some kind of smug impunity, knowing that he couldn't single them out and kill them, he could only scratch the entire region and hope his claws happened across them. He must have picked them up from those deer he killed. They drove him batty as he ran in the night, often making him slow down or stop to scratch, tormenting him with their tiny evasiveness as he tried to seek them out and kill them. They made him so frustrated that he veered off during his run and literally jumped in the river, soaking himself through to the skin and only poking his nose up out of the water to breathe, drowning the aggravating little bastards by staying completely submerged for well over twenty minutes, making sure to beat every tiny little bubble of air out of his fur to rob them of any chance to survive.
Of course, he paid for his rash act, in the form of dirt. The water of the Deep River was muddy, and the dirt suspended in the water settled into his fur once he hauled himself out of the water, dirt that seemed to interfere with his ability to meld into the shadows. He could do it, but the dirt made it… harder. His fur was an important aspect of his ability to meld into the shadows, and he learned then that when it was that dirty, literally filthy, he had to do something about it. His white ruff was so dirty that it looked grayish instead of white. So, after he dried off, he had to spend quite a bit of time either meticulously combing the dirt out of his fur and hair with his claws or licking it out, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Deep River dirt did not taste very good.
He lost a lot of time with killing the fleas and then tending to his fur, nearly a quarter of the night, but that time wasted actually served him in the end, he found out at sunrise… for he reached the frontier settlement of Deep River.
The place looked as rough as its reputation. It was built out of rough log buildings, about thirty buildings all built on an open area near the river, built in a high spot on the riverbank to protect against spring flooding, so high that there was a zigzagging road wending down the hill to the river, where a simple wooden quay jutted out into the river, and a large raft-like ferry stood tied up to it. The little town was filled with all manner of rough-looking men, unshaved, most of them wearing dirty leathers and fur, some of them escorted by an Arcan wearing a collar, naked Arcans following along behind their masters.
Kyven hung back by the trees. There was no telling where Toby was, and there was also no doubt that Toby had already broadcast his description all over town. No, this was not the time to go in there. He would draw back, draw back, find a very good place to hide, and then wait until dark. He knew Toby was here, he needed to get and keep the advantage. He drew back into the trees, then ranged out into the valley to find a good spot.
He found one… sort of. It was a cave, a cave up a steep slope on the hills bordering the river valley, which had a well-worn path leading up to it. It was a home for someone, he saw when he peeked in, with a very rude pallet and a cooking pit just outside, in a flat area in front of the cave. Just as he was about to move off when an old man wearing rough leathers appeared at the base of the steep slope, walking along with a small female cat Arcan in front of him, his hand on the tabby-colored cat's shoulder. The cat stopped with a gasp when she saw Kyven standing up by the cave, but he sat down on his haunches non-threateningly. This old man had to be a hermit, and he owned an Arcan, so perhaps he might be good for some information. He saw the cat whispering to the old man as she led him up the zigzagging path, and as they got closer, he realized that the old man was blind. The cat brought the old man up to the cave mouth, and he got a better look at both of them. The female tabby was unclothed, wearing nothing but a collar, and from the look of her she wasn't exactly young herself. She looked to be quite old for an Arcan, maybe forty. The old man was about sixty or so from the look of him, his eyes clouded over with cataracts, robbing him of his vision. He wore rough leathers, home-cured from the look of them, and carried no weapon other than a small knife. "Well now, Stripes tells me I have a visitor," the old man said in a surprisingly vibrant voice. "What brings you by my cave, Arcan?"
"Information," he said. "I've only just come to this area."
"A runaway, eh? Congratulations, we get plenty through here," the old man said as the cat brought a stool out of the cave, and then helped the man sit down. "Enough for an uncollared Arcan not to attract too much attention," he said with a chuckle as Kyven watched the old female reach up and take her collar off, then toss it casually into the cave. She sat on her haunches by the old man, leaning up against him, and he put his arm around her fondly. "I'm Clet," the old man introduced himself. "This handsome young lady here with me is Stripes."
"Be nice," the cat murmured to him.
"You said there are lots of runaways through here?"
"Yup," the old man nodded. "They escape from the east and always end up going through here, followin' what the northern Arcans call the Freedom Trail, runnin' for the wildlands where they won't be hunted down. The smart ones do, anyway. The dumb ones hang around here, and eventually get caught by someone in town, or one of the farmers down south on the settlements. So, friend, my suggestion is don't be dumb. Go right past Deep River and keep on goin', stayin' on this side of the river."
"I'd love to do that, but I'm, waiting for someone," he said carefully, which made the tabby give him a curious look. "I can't move on until they catch up to me. But, I think there's already someone here hunting for us."
"Ah, you must be the black-furred fox," the old man chuckled. "Yeah, there's a hunter down in town lookin' for ya. Poor fella," the man laughed. "He's offerin' chits or crystals as a reward to anyone who brings you in, but quite a few folks are already talking about taking some of his alchemy toys."
"I think you already knew that," Kyven noted calmly, looking at the tabby.
"Well, of course I did, but it'd have been rude to just blurt it out," he grinned. "So, you escaped from Alamar, did ya? You must be somethin' else if a hunter chased you this far."
"Oh, he's quite handsome," the cat told the old man.
"Well now, what are you going to do about it?" the man asked him.
"Stay out of his way, wait for my friends to arrive, then leave," he answered.
"May not be easy if they don't know where you are, and with that hunter already huntin' ya down."
"We'll manage," he said. "I came up here thinking this would be a good place to hide."
"Well now, it just might be," the man chuckled. "I'm what you might call a sympathizer, friend. Me and Stripes are out here cause I care maybe a little too much for Arcans," he declared, patting the tabby on the shoulder fondly. "I took care of her, and now that I'm blind, she takes care of me. So, you offer to do the hunting, I may see clear to letting you stay here in my cave."
"What about the reward?"
"What do I need chits for?" he snorted. "I got everything that makes me happy right here. Food, water, companionship, and of course, quite a view," he said, motioning out. Kyven followed his wave with his eyes, and saw the river valley arrayed before him, including the town of Deep River about two minars to the south. "Not that the view does much for me anymore," he chuckled.
"That's a very generous offer, friend," Kyven said carefully. "I'd almost say it was too generous. You don't know me, you know nothing about me."
The cat slipped away from the old man and sidled up to him on all fours. She nuzzled at his muzzle briefly, and he accepted her attention with a tilt of his head. She brought her mouth up to his ear, then whispered to him. "Trust him," she whispered. "He may be human, but he is outcast from them because he loves me, and I love him. He will help you."
That startled Kyven a little, but he guessed it was possible. If the man saw the cat as a person rather than a possession, he might actually fall in love with her. And he knew that Arcans were capable of loving in return; Arcans were actually very passionate creatures, but their circumstances made it almost impossible for them to form lasting bonds. So they lived in the moment, making every moment count… after all, they might be dead by sunrise tomorrow, or their spouse sold away.
"You have a deal, Clet," Kyven said. "How much deer do you want?"
"Stripes isn't as young as she used to be, young fella. Bring as many as you can, so she can dry the meat."
"As many as I can catch?"
"Aye."
"Alright. You asked for it, old man. I'm a very good hunter."
The old man laughed. "Sounds like a bet to me."
"Let me get some sleep, and you'll find out. As long as I don't have to range out ten minars to find them, I can bring them in."
"We'll see," he said teasingly. "Go find a spot in the cave, but don't take our pallet."
The cat helped him. She was a small thing, only coming up to his collarbones, shorter than the human, with orange tabby fur and no hair, which was unusual for female Arcans. When she saw he had no bedroll, she laid out several deerhides on the floor to give him a sleeping place, and within the cave, she told him what was going on. "We've worked with the Masked before," she told him in a whisper. "But don't ever say that out loud outside this cave."
He nodded in understanding. "Are you part of them?"
She shook her head. "Not officially, but we've given them help in the past. There's too much suspicion about us for us to really do much. The whole town knows about us."
"That way?"
She nodded. "Things are different here in Deep River, young fox. This is not the same world as the human lands. Don't judge what you see on the streets. Though Arcans are collared, many of them–most of them are like me. The collar is just for appearances. Here, Arcans are partners with our humans, not just property. The human and Arcan work together to prosper, not the human using the Arcan to prosper. They need us much more here than they do on the other side of the Smoke Mountains. Arcans are actually treated well here. Just mind that there are harsh humans out there, be careful. If you must, must go into town, take my collar. It dissuades some, but not all."
"I will. Thank you for your help."
"You escaped from Alamar, young one. That just begs for me to help you," she said with a smile that was missing one of her canine teeth, patting him on the shoulder.
"I'll repay you, Stripes, I promise. I'll bring you so much venison you'll have enough to hold you for a year."
"I'll hold you to that, young one," she winked.
"So… a human. What's it like?" he asked with a curious little smile, looking at the old man sitting on the stool at the cave mouth.
"It satisfies me in all ways," she answered simply. "He is kind, gentle, affectionate, and vigorous."
"At his age?"
"I'm that age too. Consider it being vigorous relative to our ages."
Kyven laughed. "Thank you," he said as she handed him the blanket off their own pallet. "Can I buy some supplies in town?"
"Yes, but you look to have little to use for barter."
"I'll think of something," he said. "I'll prospect for crystals if nothing else."
"There are none left around Deep River," she warned.
"I'm very mobile, Stripes. I'll find something."
"Be careful," she said, licking him lightly on the cheek, then patting him on the shoulder. "Rest well."
The deer on this side of the Deep River were much larger than the deer on the other side, but they were just as helpless.
They never saw someone like him coming. He was a nightmare, a super-predator, who could strike at will and bring down a kill almost every time, because in the night, he could literally get so close he could reach out and grab them, so long as the wind didn't change.
Kyven was a whirlwind of terror unleashed on the local deer population. He upheld his promise to Clet and Stripes by hunting for them, and when he said he'd bring them so much venison they wouldn't know what to do with it all, he was not joking in the slightest. He used the hunting also as an exercise in his Shaman powers, using the silence spell to kill multiple deer per attack when he came across herds. He would silence them and hold it, stalk in blended to the shadows, kill the first deer with claws across the throat, slitting its throat, then get at least one more if he could get to the next one before they saw their companion convulsed or dropped or smelled the blood. If he could get to the second one before his silence faded or they noticed him, he could get a third by chasing it down and killing it the old-fashioned way. The attempts wore him out both magically and physically, but he was killing a minimum of one deer per attack, and once got four. He would then drag them back to the cave and pile them up near the cave mouth, then stalk off to get more.
By just after midnight, when he'd both physically and magically exhausted himself and had to stop, he had sixteen deer piled by the cave mouth. He retreated just into the mouth of the cave, laid down, and napped, keeping an ear out for any scavengers that might come looking for the deer, and also to keep an eye out for Toby.
Come sunrise, Stripes woke him up as she stepped around him, and then she gasped and laughed when she saw his night's work. "Clet, there's a pile of deer here nearly as tall as me!" she exclaimed to him.
"I told you I'd get you more venison than you knew what to do with," he said simply from the cave floor, a touch smugly.
"You are an Arcan of your word!" she laughed. "I need my skinning knife, love."
"How did you get so many?" Clet asked in surprise as he deftly reached for a bowl on a little shelf by their pallet, grabbed the sheathed knife within, then used a hand on the wall to guide him to the cave mouth, holding the knife out. Kyven scrambled forward to avoid getting stepped on.
"I'm a very good hunter, Clet," he said modestly. "I'm a climber, they never see me. Almost nothing bothers to look up."
"Ah, true, true," he answered as the cat took the knife, grabbed the top deer on the pile, and dragged it over in a flat spot. "Can you start the fire for us? I think we're having venison for breakfast."
"We'll be having venison for three months," Stripes laughed. "I don't have room on my drying rack for all this! Love, I think we'll have to take some of these down to town to barter them for bread or ale. Let's hold off on breakfast until we get them bartered."
"That's fine with me, I don't want them to go to waste," Kyven said. "Just leave me the smallest one. I'll eat that one."
"I'll ask around down in town while we're there, young fox," Stripes told him. "Quietly let it be known to those we can trust that you're staying with us."
"Thank you very much," he said sincerely. "I can start dressing these, if you show me how you do it. I've never really done it before. I just eat it as I go."
"Alright, come here, young one. I'll show you how to do it the human way."
"No racist comments over there, you two. I do have ears," Clet teased.
"As long as he doesn't make you eat with a knife and fork, I'll respect you, Stripes."
The cat laughed, and Clet harumphed from the cave entrance, which made Kyven chuckle. "I just can't teach him the real way to eat, so I humor him," she answered.
"I don't like the way it tastes raw," he protested.
"I don't like the way it tastes cooked," she retorted.
"Well, you do the cooking, you don't have to cook yours!"
"I don't," she winked at Kyven as showed him her way to skin a deer.
She showed him with two deer, then supervised as he dressed the third, gutting it and cutting it into pieces with the sharp, heavy knife, piling the pieces on the hide, then wrapping it in the hide when he was done. She nodded in approval and tied four deer together, Put on her collar and a large empty back on her back, collected up her husband, then dragged the deer with her, pulling more than her own weight, as she led Clet back to town to barter the deer for other supplies.
It took a few deer before Kyven really got the hang of it. He did a terrible job with the next deer, and didn't do much better with the one after that one. He did better with the third one, and was just starting to get into the swing of it as he butchered the fourth one. He had seven deer butchered when Stripes and Clet returned, coming up the steep, zigzagging path, Clet carrying a bunch of wooden poles on his back and Stripes carrying her large pack, now full. She led Clet to the flat area by the cave and had him hold still as she took the poles off his back, setting them on the ground by the cave, then she took the pack into the cave. "How many deer are left, young one?"
"Five left to butcher," he answered.
"Leave four of them. We sold those, Stripes can't smoke that much meat at once."
"It's going to take me two days to do it," she laughed. "But if you want to keep hunting, be my guest, my young fox. We can barter your kills for goods."
"Best not be too blatant about it, or Toby will notice and possibly come seeing if I'm here," he cautioned.
"I take them to the same person, who is a friend," Stripes told him calmly. "He wouldn't give it away. And since this Toby doesn't know us, he doesn't know how many deer I bring into the town every day."
"Ah, true," Kyven nodded.
Stripes inspected his work, tutting him on a few of them, but nodding in approval when she saw the one he's just finished. Then she tied four of the deer together, emptied out the pack into chests and barrels in the cave, then led her husband back towards the town two minars south, dragging the deer behind her.
Kyven had nothing to do after dressing the last deer, so he retreated to the cave, out of sight, and napped some more waiting for them to return. They did so about an hour later, Stripes carrying another pack full of supplies. As she unloaded them, Clet pulled a fiddle from the rack near their pallet, then sat on the stool in the cave and played it while Stripes directed Kyven as they went about preparing breakfast, which was now lunch. She roasted deer liver over the fire for Clet as she and Kyven ate theirs raw, then she and Kyven ranged out to collect firewood so she could smoke and dry the venison. "I'm glad you came along when you did, young one," she said as they gathered firewood in trundles they wore on their backs. "I was looking at a hard time ahead hunting enough meat to hold us through the winter. Between what you brought us, what we can barter, and what I can hunt on my own over the winter, we'll be just fine."
"I'm glad I could help," he told her. "It's nice to be able to do something for someone again."
"Clet doesn't understand that about us," she told him. "He thinks we're a bit silly. He doesn't understand. He can't."
No, he could not. Arcans liked to comfort and be comforted, an aspect of the need to ease the pain of slavery. That Kyven would help so much did not surprise Stripes, who saw an Arcan helping one who helped him, showing his gratitude for their favor.
"I spread the word among those I can trust in town, young one," she told him. "If your friend comes looking for you, he'll be sent to us."
"I can't thank you enough for your help, Stripes."
"You can make sure we have a comfortable winter," she told him with a smile.
"I'll make both of you so fat you can't get back up to the cave," he winked.
She laughed, dumping more wood into his trundle.
For two more days, Kyven holed up with Clet and Stripes. By night, he hunted for them, bringing in eleven deer a night. It was the number Stripes asked him to bring, ten deer to barter and one to eat without cutting into the meat she worked all day every day to smoke and dry when not dragging the kills to barter in town, which was what she could barter away in town without driving down their value. By day, Kyven rested, talked with them, and learned how to smoke meat.
Stripes had a very quick process. She smoked the meat over two racks, her original one and one she'd bought, drying it and then packing it away. She'd dried using two racks, it taking two days to complete the process given how much meat he'd brought them, which was why she bought the second rack, to get the meat dried before it went bad. She would rotate the meat on the racks to keep the lower rows from drying too fast and the upper rows from not drying fast enough, and she was careful to cut her strips of meat to an exact width, which was optimal for smoke drying. Kyven helped by collecting quite a bit of firewood to keep the smoking fires going, and helping her rotate the racks. After she had all the meat dried and found it to be done properly, she packed it in a barrel bartered for a deer carcass. That night, Kyven again killed a large number of deer, both to smoke the meat and also to give Stripes and Clet more bartering goods to stock up on supplies they couldn't otherwise get.
There were a large number of goods in Deep River. Despite being a frontier settlement and effectively lawless, there was money to be made in Deep River, and that brought merchants. They would take the Podac Trail from the Podac River, across the Smoke Mountains, and then down the river by ship, of all things, using a special riverboat that went from Deep River to Twin Forks, which was about two hundred minars upriver. There were other merchants who did it by horse train, following the Deep River from further south than Twin Forks, but that was much more dangerous because of wild Arcans and monsters. Every week, the boat would return carrying goods, which were often sold right on the dock so as to avoid the merchant having to stay too long in town. He would sell them goods only attainable in civilization, and take back crystals, hides, pelts, coal, and other goods the frontier town produced. The settlements south of the town produced excess wool and foodstuffs, and they had a tanner in Deep River that produced quite a bit of deer leather and cow leather, which the merchant bought to take back to sell in civilization. The prospectors found just enough crystals to make it worth their while to remain, and that kept the frontier settlement going.
It was truly lawless. Down there, there literally were no rules. It was survival of the fittest, where how many friends one had determined how likely one was not to be harassed. The friendless had to be strong and ruthless to survive, and much as Stripes described, the relationship between Arcan and human was slightly different. Humans needed their Arcans, and since it was a poor town, few people owned more than one Arcan, so they had to treat the Arcan well. And, since the town was lawless, there wasn't much stopping Arcans from killing overly brutal or harsh masters. So the relationship between the two races was more of a partnership and less of a master/slave relationship. A man without an Arcan to help him was at a disadvantage, and a man who mistreated Arcans wouldn't have his Arcan for long. Kyven was shocked to hear of brutal masters found dead, savaged by other Arcans for what he did to his own. The collars used around Deep River only prevented Arcans from attacking their own masters… if they actually had collars at all. Many Arcans, used to the brutality found on the other side of the mountains, found the way of things here in Deep River to be much to their liking, and were quite willing and amenable to partnering with their new "master" to work together to survive.
Clet and Stripes was an excellent example of that mindset, though they took it to an extreme. They weren't owner and slave, they were partners. They worked together in all things, took care of each other, and in their case, they went far beyond that into love. The extent of their devotion became clear to him the third morning after he had stayed with them, as Clet played his fiddle and Stripes roasted venison for him for breakfast. "We've been together for thirty-five years," she told him as she sat by the fire. "I was given to him on his twenty-fifth birthday by his parents. He was a banker, you see, and was still trying to make a name for himself. He was poor still, but was forced to appear to have means because he was a banker, you see. He spent all his money on his little house and his clothes, to satisfy his bosses, when he barely had the money to eat. So, his parents bought me as a present, to be his maid for him."
"She was a poor maid," Clet chuckled. "So I had to marry her!"
"Be nice, dear, and go back to your fiddle," she chided, and he laughed and did so. "I wasn't very good," she admitted. "I was only five, just into adulthood, and I'd been raised on a tobacco farm. I had no idea how to be a house servant. I burned quite a few dinners," she said with a distant smile. "But Clet was tolerant and kind. He knew more about those things than I did, and taught me.
"Since he was so poor, he was not welcome in the social circles of the bank," she continued. "So I was his only real companion. He taught me to read and gave me books when he was at work, since there really wasn't much work for me to do in his little house, and then started giving over his salary to me to manage after he taught me how to do numbers and the concepts of economics. I made us a little money," she said, rather proudly. "It wasn't much, but at least my speculations didn't wipe us out."
"And that's how it happened," Kyven mused. "Because you were always together, and he treated you kindly."
She nodded. "We fell in love," she said. "It took a few years, but it happened. I think we were both quite shocked. I didn't think I could love a human, and I didn't think humans could love before I met him. Well, the short of it is that word of our… affair leaked out. It's not a scandal for a human to use Arcans for pleasure, but it is a scandal when they find out that the human taught the Arcan to read, and gives her money, and treats her more like a wife than a servant. Clet was dismissed from the bank, and in the face of an inquiry from the Loremasters, we decided to leave Avannar. We fled here, to Deep River, where we floundered for a while until we learned the way things work. We went into business prospecting, and though we never made it rich, we were always comfortable and happy, and Clet was always gentle and loving to me. After he went blind, well, it was my turn to care for him. And I will until we both pass."
"Well, I think it's a wonderful story," Kyven told her, leaning back on one hand. "I hope you have many more years of happiness."
"Oh, we'll have a few more, but I'm getting old, Kyven. I'm forty-two, and it's getting harder and harder to get out of bed every morning. I won't regret not waking up at all, young one. I've had a good life, a life filled with love, and what more could an Arcan ever want or desire?"
"At least she was easy to please!" Clet cut in, then he started a new song.
"Clet's not quite as old as you, in the relative eye," Kyven noticed aloud.
"I know. I used to worry about that, that he would have no one after I'm gone, but," she hesitated, then she sighed. "But he fixed that."
"After the last time we helped the Masked, I demanded a favor," he said. "I had a Shaman come and Seal us."
"Seal? What does that mean?" Kyven asked.
"Our lives were bound together," Stripes answered. "Simply put, young one, if one of us dies, both of us die. I did not like it one bit when he did that. It is the one bone of contention between us. He has more life to live after I'm gone. He can buy a new Arcan and continue on, live a long time and find happiness."
"I'd hate every second of it," Clet retorted. "Life without you ain't worth livin', darlin'."
"Wow. Just… wow," Kyven breathed. Now that was devotion! "I could only dream of finding someone who loved me that much. You're the luckiest Arcan alive, Stripes."
She gave him a shy smile. "I'm determined to outlive him now. He won't escape life by having me die on him first."
"And that's why I did it!" he said, drawing his bow and starting another song. "It was the only way to keep you with me!"
"To think I wasted my entire life on that man," she chided, but she was smiling. "But what else could I do?"
Kyven laughed, understanding the joke, where Clet just gave them a strange look and went back to his fiddle.
Clet and Stripes were… inspirational, at least to him. They were an Arcan and a human, but they had loved each other almost all of Stripes' life, and she had truly been blessed as far as Arcans went. She had not only had a good life with a kind master, but a life filled with love and fulfillment. There was little more an Arcan could ask for, except maybe children… but that was the one thing that Clet could not give her. But it showed that love could truly be blind, and Clet didn't have to be blind first to love Stripes.
Maybe… maybe he could see if Danna could be just as open-minded, start working on her before he changed back. If he could get her to see the man under the fur, maybe she'd be ready to pursue a relationship with him when he was human again. It would be worth the effort, and really wouldn't cost him that much. At worst, he was just being nice to her, at best, she would be amenable to him. He'd just have to be careful, that's all, not push her too far. If she realized he had romantic ideas about her as an Arcan, it might repulse her. It would be worth a try, as long as he was careful. Hell, if Clet could fall in love with an Arcan, at the very least, Danna could find interest in the man behind the Arcan. That would be all he'd hope for, anyway.
A figure appeared at the base of the hill, walking out of the clearing. Kyven hunkered down immediately, but sat back up when he saw that it was an Arcan. It was a long female coyote Arcan, wearing a ragged pair of leather breeches whose legs were torn off at her mid-thigh, and a simple leather wrap going around her small breasts. Her coloration was gray and dusky grayish-brown, with a lighter stomach and darker sides, and she had thick brown hair that was cut short at her shoulders, but was still wild and unkempt, her ears poking out of it. There was a sense about this female that he noticed almost immediately.
She was a Shaman!
She waved when Stripes waved down to her, the cat smiling broadly. "You'll meet her now," she laughed. "That's the Shaman!"
"I think that's who I've been waiting for," Kyven said as he stood up as she approached.
The coyote was shorter than him by about two fingers, sleek, and very light-footed. She moved with sinuous grace, reaching her hands out to Kyven as she reached the plateau. "Kyven," she said in a gentle, feminine voice. "It's so nice to meet you!"
He took her hands in his own and nuzzled her in greeting, and she accepted him. "Did Virren send you?"
"Of course. I am Clover, brother," she told him. "And I must say, you are much more handsome than Stalker described you! I love your fur!"
Clover? Oh, he remembered. One of the Shaman that Virren had described to him. She was supposed to be a total sweetheart, kind and gentle.
"Well, Stalker didn't have much of an opinion of me," Kyven said ruefully.
"He would change his words now if he could see you," she said, looking him up and down appraisingly. "What species are you?"
"Shadow fox," he answered. "She made me like her."
"Ah. Practical, I suppose. Can you do what the foxes do?"
"I was told that I can. The only trick I've learned so far is the blending trick."
"Well, we'll have to see what else you can do," she said with a gentle smile, releasing his hands. "Stripes! You look well! How have you been?"
"Well, very well, Clover," she answered, hugging the taller Shaman. "Would you like some breakfast?"
"Please!" she said with a nod, stepping into the cave. "Clet! You're getting fat," she chided as she hugged the human.
"Ain't no big thing, Miss Clover," he chuckled. "But I'm certainly trying to make it big!"
She laughed, then licked him on the cheek. "Has my wayward charge been too much of a burden on you?"
"He's been a wonderful guest," Clet answered. "He can outhunt the entire village. We have so much venison we can't smoke it all before it goes bad."
"Yes, I saw," she murmured. "Have you been practicing, Kyven?" she asked as Clet sat back down to his breakfast. She seated herself by the fire with the other two Arcans and accepted a plate of raw deer liver with a smile and a nod.
"As much as I can," he answered. "When are we leaving? And where are we going?"
"We can't leave quite yet," she answered. "I've been tasked to wait a couple of days. You are not the only one I'm here to pick up to take home. I'm waiting for one more. Besides that, there's someone following you that needs to be closer before you leave."
"The Loreguard," he realized.
"Yes. We can't let them get discouraged and give up, now, can we?" she said with a wink. "They have to keep following you."
"Why do you want the Loreguard chasing you into the wilderness, Shaman?" Stripes asked curiously.
"We want something from them," she answered simply. "Kyven has a rare prize chasing him, dear, a Loreguard officer. We can learn much from her."
Kyven didn't quite like the idea of that, of the Masked interrogating someone he rather liked. But Clover put a hand on his leg and gave him a gentle smile, a smile which was… disarming.
"Don't worry, young brother, she won't be harmed. We are not like the humans. She will certainly not wish to give up what we want, but we can urge it from her without harm to her."
"How? Magic?"
She nodded as she bit off a piece of liver. "Coldfoot is quite adept at such magic. We will bring her to him." She patted him on the leg. "So… Kyven. You have had a chance no one else has ever had. What did you learn?"
"I learned that the life of an Arcan is uncertain and can be terrible," he answered honestly. "In some ways, I hate it, and I hate what my totem did to me. But, I've learned that there can be joy in that sorrow, and here, now, when the threat of a collar is far away, I find it… satisfying."
"What do you mean?" Stripes asked curiously.
"Dear lady, Kyven is a human Shaman," she told her directly, which elicited a gasp of shock from the cat and wild look. "His totem transformed him into one of us to show him our lives, so he may learn wisdom. I think he looks much better this way," the coyote said with a smile, giving him an appraising look.
"I think you're biased, Clover," Kyven retorted.
"You are Shaman? All this time, you never said you were a Shaman! And we've treated you so roughly, making you hunt for us! I'm so ashamed," she said, putting her paws over her face.
"Stripes, I enjoyed hunting for you," he told her, pulling her hands away from her face. "And you've been a wonderful host. Does it matter that I'm a Shaman?"
"Yes!" she protested.
"Well, I'm not that full of myself," he snorted. "I'm technically not even a Shaman yet. I haven't even finished my training."
"You are always Shaman," Stripes told him strongly.
"Well, don't worry about it. I rather liked how you were treating me, treating me as a friend, and I'd like to go on being treated that way."
"I–as you wish, Shaman."
"Kyven."
She gave him a slight smile. "As you wish, Kyven," she corrected. "A human? You were born to the wrong race."
He laughed. "I learned the ways of the Arcans quickly," he answered. "If only to survive. The lesson I was taught was… harsh," he said with a shudder.
"Well, I never noticed. I thought you were an Arcan."
"Why thank you," he said modestly. "I guess until I'm changed back, I am an Arcan."
"We can only hope your totem keeps you this handsome," Clover winked at him.
"Biased."
"Guilty," she said shamelessly.
"Are you going to teach me, Clover?"
She shook her head. "That is between you and your totem," she answered. "I can't interfere. She will teach you what she wishes you to know. I will give you no direct instruction."
He caught that. She said she would give him no direct instruction. But, if he happened to see her use magic and tried to copy her spell, well, there wasn't much she could do about that.
Clever coyote.
"Stripes, Clet, do remember that what you learned here today about Kyven is a secret. Among the deepest secrets of the Shaman. Imagine if word got out to the human world that human could be Shaman? It goes no further."
"I won't say a word!" she gasped.
"After all you've done for us? I'd never rat you out, Clover," Clet told her.
As they ate and talked, Kyven formed an opinion of Clover. She was nice. She was kind, sweet, charming, amiable, one of the friendliest people, human or Arcan, he'd ever met. She was compassionate and wise, making them all feel totally at ease with her. But behind that friendly outward appearance was a cunning, intelligent female who saw to the heart of things and was very observant. She took in every word, every unconscious movement, every facial expression, and she analyzed them to better know and understand those with her. He found her a little intimidating, but she was so sweet and friendly that she drowned those misgivings under her charm. She was also quite feminine. Arcan females could be feminine, like Silver was, but the Arcan condition always made them seem not quite so feminine as human females. But Clover was quite feminine, almost demure, but her demure nature was just her outward personality when interacting with people. If she was Shaman, then she had to be quite wise and strong-willed.
Once they finished breakfast, she took Kyven's hand and got up, then pulled him up. "If you'd excuse us for a bit, my friends, I'd like to have a little talk with my young brother."
"Of course, Shaman," Stripes said deferently.
Hand in hand, Clover led him down the steep hill leading to their cave, but led him towards the river away from the town rather than towards it. When they entered the trees, she leaned over and licked him on the cheek. "Now then, brother, you must tell me what happened. All of it. I wish to know how you have come to be so Arcan, when you are human."
He nodded to her, blew out his breath, and told her. All of it. He left nothing out, starting all the way back with his time with Stalker. He told her about Avannar, and then his first meeting with the Loreguard woman, Danna, then his time on the ship. After that, he rather matter-of-factly told her about his totem changing him. He went on, describing his time in the Ledwell's cage, and then his journey to Alamar and his time in the blue ring. He was sure to describe both Toby and Silver to her, to let her know how formidable he was, and explain why he'd made the decision he did, of which Silver was a part. "She just made me see the light, in a way," he explained as they reached the river, and she sat him down on a log just near the bank, allowing them to look past a couple of trees and see the dark brown water of the river flow by. "She was so… precious," he said, reaching for words. "I knew then that I had to do something about it, before someone just like her was held down and clubbed to death just so some rich woman could wear her fur." He went on, then, telling her about the flight from Alamar, and his near-capture in Atan when Toby very nearly caught him using his alchemical trinkets. He then told her about meeting his spirit on the way to Deep River, and how she literally fought him into submission, then returned her blessing and gave him back his powers. "And here I am," he concluded. "I met Stripes and Clet while looking for a good hiding place while waiting for you. They're very good people, and in a way, they taught me much about how life can be."
"You have seen life from two points of view, brother. In a way, I envy you," she told him. "My own Walk was much different. Arcans already know the suffering our people face, so I did not have to be taught that. I, like Stalker, had to be taught mercy and kindness rather than be taught about the cruelty that life can hold for many. I learned my lessons better than him," she said with a light chuckle. "The Walk is different for each of us, so that we may know both good and evil, kindness and cruelty, the light and the dark. Shaman walk between those extremes, capable of both when the situation demands. That is the truth of wisdom, my brother. The wise Arcan knows when to be kind, and when to be cruel. When to heal, and when to harm. When to be quiet, and when to be noisy. That is the objective of the Walk, to teach you both sides and make you capable of being a true Shaman."
"I kinda figured that out by the time I was at the ship. The fox kept showing me such dark, evil things, and made me do some pretty cruel things, and I realized she was showing me the real world, and that I couldn't cling to my ideals in the real world. To survive in the real world, I had to be capable of acts that would have appalled me not six months ago."
"And that shows you are wise, my young brother," she told him simply. "It took me over a year to grasp that simple truth. But I admit, I resisted the idea of it. I spent nearly six months in a collar, caring for a kind, elderly human who was sweeter than honey. The spirit watching me then had to deny me my magic to keep me in the collar," she laughed. "I kept trying to slip it and escape. My time there was to show me that not all humans were what I believed them to be, that the spirits care for the humans too. Silver was your moment of epiphany, brother. Master Malvok Tallstand was mine. He was the one that tamed my anger and showed me that love is the greatest power in the world," she said, a little distantly. "I miss him every day."
"What happened?"
"I killed him," she said, so matter-of-factly that it made him flinch. "That in itself was a lesson," she said with a sigh. "He was old, Kyven. Old, and crippled, and dying of cancered tumors. After I came to love him, after he had shown me the beauty of love, he asked me to end him. I asked him why he waited until I didn't want to do it, for I'd have ended him in a heartbeat when he first bought me. He simply smiled and answered that he wanted his death to be an act of love, not an act of hatred. And so, out of love for him, I broke his neck," she said wistfully. "Giving him a swift and painless end to his pain."
Kyven put his hand on her shoulder reflexively, offering her comfort. She gave him a smile and pushed against him until he had his arm around her, putting her head on his shoulder. "You are so much an Arcan," she laughed. "It's so easy to forget you were born human."
"I learned quickly," he chuckled. "I guess I just understand Arcans now, on a very intimate level."
"That fact will be much help to you in Haven, where hatred of humanity is strong," she told him. "Many there are escaped slaves, escaped from the horrors of bondage. Our children have known nothing but Haven, have lived free of the collar, but they share the outrage of their parents and a prejudice taught to them. Their hatred of humans is taught rather than ingrained, but no less strong."
"My totem told me that I needed to understand Arcans to be accepted, that some wouldn't accept me even as a Shaman because of me being human."
"Some would not accept you as a human, no matter that you are Shaman. But when you arrive in Haven as an Arcan, they will not reject you."
"Even if I become human again?"
"That, I don't know," she said, then she was silent a moment, scratching under her chin. "It would be interesting to see," she finally said. "It would teach them a poignant lesson about judging people," she declared.
"What is Haven like?"
"Much like the Free Territories," she said with a smile. "It is more than a city, Kyven, it is a nation. Our main city is far to the northwest, on the prairies west of the Great Snake River, far from where humans care to tread because of the cold and lack of crystals. But there are villages and towns, like Atan, scattered across the prairie, where we farm and craft goods and do all the things the humans do. The Arcan Council rules Haven, fifteen of the wisest Arcans, with the Shaman working among the people where we are needed."
"What do the Shaman do?"
"We speak for the spirits," she answered. "The spirits do not command the Arcans, but they do wish their voices to be heard and considered when they make their decisions. It will be nice to go home," she said with a sigh. "I have been gone from Haven for nearly six months. There aren't many of us, you know. Maybe only a thousand Shaman overall. Some of us work in Haven, some work with the Masked, such as me, Stalker, and Coldfoot. The Free Territories are our territory, as it were. When the Masked in the Free Territories needs a Shaman, one of us answers the call."
"No others? I met a skunk Shaman in Riyan."
"That was Coldfoot," she said with a wink. "Keeping an eye on the humans and gathering information for the Masked in his special way. Quite handsome, isn't he?"
"I didn't think so at the time, I was human when I met him," he mused.
"Well, he is," she giggled, then she lifted up from his shoulder and sniffed at the air. "He has been recalled, though. All the Shaman, everywhere, have been recalled. The spirits feel we are needed back home, and so we answer that call and obey."
"Are we waiting for Coldfoot?"
She shook her head. "The Masked is bringing a group of Arcans to take to Haven. Since I need to take you home, and lure the Loreguard officer along with us, I'll be traveling with you."
"How many Arcans are there in Haven?" he asked impulsively.
"Many," she said with a bright smile. "Hundreds of thousands. Maybe even a million," she declared proudly. "Haven began as a group of escaped Arcans searching for a home where the humans would never bother them. They had the first Shaman with them, Firetail, who the spirits led to the cold prairies far from here, west-northwest of the Inner Sea, where the summer permits us to work farms but the winters frighten away the humans. Firetail and the Firstcomers founded the village they called the Safe Haven, a place the spirits told them would be safe from the humans, and it has grown in the centuries since its founding. It has gone from a tiny hamlet of fifteen Arcans to a nation of hundreds of thousands. Every year, we bring as many as we can to safety, one or two at a time, as we can. We must be careful. If the Loremasters were to uncover the organized movement of Arcans into the wilderness, they would move swiftly to root out this organization and crush it, putting the Masked in grave risk. So, to protect the Masked, and to protect Haven from discovery, we move very, very carefully."
"I can see why. They wouldn't be ready for an army of Loreguard to march into Haven, would they?"
"They would, but it is not that army that would doom Haven, brother, it would be the simple revelation among the humans that Arcans have their own city. They would rise up against our enslaved people and kill them, then march on Haven in numbers would could not oppose. The discovery of Haven would risk the entire Arcan race."
Kyven wasn't so sure about that. Yes, there would be some reactionaries, but the people in Atan, for example, would just shrug and go on about their business. But, he had to admit, if people like Arthur Ledwell found out their animals were actually intelligent, they would have a bad reaction to it. They would see it as a personal challenge to human supremacy, and would try to destroy the Arcan city. The key of it would be how many would just shrug and go on, and how many would see it as some kind of inter-species pissing contest and come after the Arcans to beat them back into their perceived place. But would enough react like that to threaten the entire Arcan race? He doubted it. Would enough react to get a hell of a lot of Arcans killed? Yes, most likely, but not threaten the race. But that itself was probably enough to stay Haven's hand about doing anything bold and continuing to try to free their people one escaped Arcan at a time. Getting half of the Arcans they were trying to save killed wasn't exactly a victory.
"I can see their nervousness, but it wouldn't be as bad as they think. Not all humans would react that way. Many would, yes, and quite a few Arcans would be killed, but it wouldn't wipe out the Arcan race."
"That alone would stay our hand. We are trying to save our people, not get them killed. But there is no easy solution."
There is not always a happy ending, he remembered the fox telling him, which made him shiver a little. That lesson could apply here, oh yes it could.
"We just have to trust in the spirits, I guess," he said. "Well, other spirits. I'm not very happy with my totem at the moment."
She giggled. "She did you a favor," she teased, patting him on the leg. "I like you much better this way."
"You're biased."
"Yes. Yes, I am," she smiled, leaning over and licking him on the muzzle teasingly. "Let's go back to Clet and Stripes. I'm sure they're anxious to talk to you," she smiled as she stood up, then helped him up.
"Are you staying with us?"
She nodded. "It's a small cave, though. Mind sharing your blankets with me?"
"I'd be honored," he answered as they walked, hand in hand, back to the cave.
Clet and Stripes played host to Kyven and Clover for two days. Over those two days, Clover quite effectively took over their entire lives with her warmth and charisma. It wasn't that she was a bully, it was that Clet and Stripes loved her, loved her very much, and wanted to be around her, talk to her, pay attention to her and get attention from her. Clover was quite gracious, even pitched in in her own way using Shaman magic by preserving all the meat that Kyven hunted for them those two nights. She told him to bring every single deer he could catch, and he did so. He hunted them twenty-two deer the first night, then thirty-one the second night. Stripes and Clover dressed them all the day after, and then Kyven saw Clover use Shaman magic. Her spell preserved the meat, drying it out just as if they'd smoked it, but drying it in larger sections rather than thin strips. The spell, he could tell, wasn't instant. It was maintained, drawing all the water out of the meat and preserving it, then she would touch the meat and use the spell the fox taught him to eradicate any possible diseases. The result was a perfectly preserved piece of meat.
And Kyven learned a new spell.
Not officially of course, but it didn't take him long to figure out how to envision the spell to make it work, and well, the fox told him to practice, and Clover didn't know what spells he knew… so he tried it himself. He imagined the meat drying out, all water drawn out of it, leaving it perfectly preserved, then he rather coyly beseeched the fox to grant him the power to make it happen. She responded with similar coyness, as if turning a blind eye to granting him the power to use a spell she had not taught him, and the piece of meat quickly dried to perfect preservation.
Guile and deceit… she deceived him, and so he deceived her. And that seemed to please her.
They shared his blankets, but not always at the same time. He stayed out half the night, hunting deer, but when he came back, she accepted him into the blankets and cuddled up with him. Her fur was rougher than his but still thick, and he found her presence to be quite comforting and pleasant. She treated him just like an Arcan, not treating him like a human, touching him and nuzzling him as an Arcan would wish to be touched. As far as she was concerned, he was an Arcan. He responded at that level, and that seemed to please her to no end.
He slept late into the morning while the others did their daily tasks, and as Clover caught up with what were clearly her old friends, then he woke up and continued his education on how things were done in rough conditions… for he'd learned quite a bit about cooking over an open fire, storing food, and living in, well, a cave. He wondered why the lived in a cave when they could build a cottage, but one look at them answered that question. They were happy here, and since they were happy, why should they move?
Kyven felt much more secure, to be honest about it. He was still afraid of Toby, but with Clover here, an experienced Shaman, he felt that she would protect him. His view of her as a protector kept him pretty close to her when he wasn't out hunting at night, when he was invisible and felt completely secure by himself, and she seemed quite content with his need to stay close to her. She rather liked having him within arm's reach, and often would get lost in running her fingers through his thick, soft fur. Despite her infatuation with his fur and her freedom to touch, however, she made no amorous advances to him either night. That sort of rubbed him both ways. Days of thinking of Danna had made him rather amenable to the idea of a little distraction, but he didn't think it proper to proposition a female he barely knew, one that was his superior among the Shaman, and an Arcan that was free and might have different customs than the Arcans he'd met in captivity. Actually, it was her status as a Shaman more than barely knowing her or her possibly different customs. He wasn't sure what kind of social customs existed among Shaman, or between Shaman and others outside of the tendency of Arcans to treat Shaman with tremendous respect and deference.
She seemed a little amused by him when he woke up on the second morning, on her belly by him, propped up on her elbows with her chin on her hands, giving him a little smile. He yawned, showing off his teeth, then looked at her curiously. "Uh, morning?"
She grinned. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" she said in a naughty tone.
"I don't like where this is going."
She laughed. "Who is Danna?"
"That's a woman I know," he said carefully. "Why?"
"You were mumbling her name, while pawing me for everything you were worth."
Kyven was rather embarrassed, looking away. "Sorry about that. I've been told it's not the first time I've done it."
She laughed. "Don't be embarrassed," she told him. "You pawed me, so I pawed you back," she winked.
He laughed ruefully. "I guess it was only fair. If we're ever sleeping together again and I do that, just elbow me. You're not the first girl I've pawed while sleeping. I should have warned you, now that I think of it."
"No big deal, brother. If you ever need comfort, I'm right here," she said, reaching over and digging her fingers into the white fur on his chest.
"Well, if I do that again tonight, I might take you up on that," he told her.
"Oh, a promise," she winked, then she rolled over and stood up, stretching. She wore clothes as a habit, but she slept nude, and he had to admire her very sleek, toned form, the body of a Shaman. She had a black stripe on her back, and a very unusual splotch of black on the fur on her left buttock, shaped like a shamrock.
"I see why you're named Clover," he said, looking at her.
She looked back at him, then laughed and put her hands no her waist, near her tail. "So you see my little clover," she winked. "Actually, that's just a coincidence. I got my name because I love the smell of clovers. I used to wear a garland of clover all the time when I was cub, and so I got the name. This is just coincidence," she said, pointing at her little coloration. "Or perhaps a symbol of my love of clovers, who knows?"
"Well, it's very handsome."
"Thank you. But you win the best fur competition, brother," she grinned as he sat up. "Your fur is almost sinfully soft. I'm looking forward to sleeping up against that fur for the next few weeks." She frowned as she picked up her tattered short trousers. "We need to get going. It may still be warm here, but autumn is already taking hold in Haven. Our traveling companions need to get here soon, I don't want to have to trudge up there in the snow. I expect them sometime today, though. Swift is almost always right on time."
And he was. Kyven napped through the morning, and was woken up by Clover with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Wake up and dress, my brother," she told him. "It's time for us to go."
"They're here?"
She nodded. "Arrived just moments ago. We have to move on, quickly."
"Why so fast?" he asked as he sat up.
"Because your Loreguard are not an hour behind them," she answered. "We must be away while they waste time trying to cross the river."
"Alright," he said, getting up. He dressed quickly then came out of the cave to see four Arcans. One was a fairly tall and burly cougar male with a nick cut out of his left ear, one was a very lean male canine with a narrow muzzle and short, wiry gray fur, one was a very young female raccoon with curiously darker markings than usual for raccoons, her fur where it would normally be dark brown instead pitch black, and the last was a thin female of a species he had never seen before. She looked curiously ursine, but she had reddish fur and a much narrower face and muzzle to be a bear. She had bear-like claws on her hands and feet, but lacked the heavy build to be a bear. Her fur was red, but she had white patches over and to the insides of each eye, a white muzzle and chin, and two white patches on her cheeks. Her ears were white as well, poking out of her dark red hair. She also had a long banded tail, red and crème color in alternating stripes, which was a dead lock that she was not a bear. Bears did not have long tails.
"Swift! Right on time!" Clover said as she came down the path, then she embraced the wiry canine. "And who did you bring for me to take home?"
"Clover," the canine said with a smile. "First, this is Claw. He escaped the fighting pens in Cheston before they broke him."
"Congratulations, Claw. I will take you where you never have to fight again," she said, putting her hand on the big cougar's shoulder.
"Shaman," he said with the utmost reverence. "Will you bless me?"
"Of course," she said with a smile. "May the spirits bless you and watch over you, my friend," she intoned, which almost made him quiver in delight.
The canine motioned to the raccoon as Kyven pulled on his shirt and started towards them, and as Clet and Stripes appeared out of the trees, Clet being led by his wife. "This is Teacup, Shaman," he introduced.
"Because I've always been small," the raccoon said, resisting the urge to bow as Clover gave her a nuzzle and hug. "Are you really a Shaman?"
"Yes, I am Shaman, young one," she smiled, then she turned to the unusual female. "My, a red panda! Such a beautiful girl," she said, patting her on the shoulders.
"She had no name, so we call her Patches," the canine informed her.
"A pretty name," she said, touching the panda on the white patch on her cheek.
"Thank you, Shaman," she said meekly, looking down.
Kyven joined them, and Clover motioned to him. "This is Kyven," she introduced, "a fellow Shaman and also journeying to our destination."
"Shaman," the cougar said, coming over and taking his hands. "Will you bless me?"
Kyven already knew that the best thing to do was just do it. He put his hand on the cougar's shoulder and complied. "May the spirits watch over you and bless you."
The cougar literally bowed to him in gratitude.
"And I thought Patches was unusual," the raccoon said appraisingly, looking at him. "What are you, Kyven?"
"A fox," he answered.
"A breed unknown in our lands," Clover added. "But we have little time. We must be off. I see no packs with them. Are they carrying what they need, Swift?"
"Ah, no, Shaman," he said, a little apologetically. "We didn't have the opportunity to get it."
"Then we will buy it in town. Let's say farewell to our hosts and then be away."
Stripes and Clet were brought over to them and Clover said goodbye. The reactions of the three Arcans to Clet said much about how they'd handled captivity. Claw snarled at the old man, but also backed up an involuntary step. Teacup didn't react much at all to the man, but Patches quietly drew close to Kyven and surreptitiously got behind him, hiding from the old man. "It's alright, he's a friend, and he's blind. He's no threat," he whispered to the small female, which made her just get behind him more. She skittered away when Stripes led Clet over to him and she hugged him. "It was good having you, Shaman," she told him. "You're welcome with us at any time."
"Thank you for your hospitality, both of you," he said, clapping Clet on the shoulder. "Be good to each other."
"Every day," Clet said with a smile. "Every day."
"Come, then. Swift, come with us. I'd rather have them wait near the town for me to buy what is needed, and you and Kyven can keep them safe."
Kyven left the cave behind and took up a position behind the others, to keep an eye on them, as the six Arcans dropped to all fours at Clover's prompting and then loped off towards Deep River. Kyven was a little worried about going so close to town with Toby there, but perhaps he'd get lucky and avoid the hunter. He considered what might happen for the fifteen minutes it took them to run to the edge of the town, then Clover led them around to the west side of the small, log-built town, leading them to a rather wide trail that led towards the west side of the river valley. "Wait here, all of you," she said after leading them into the woods about a hundred rods from the trail, to a fallen log that was just barely visible to the town through the trees. "I'll return with what we need for the journey."
She padded off into the village, leaving Kyven and Swift to defend the three Arcans, though Claw looked to be quite capable of defending himself. Kyven stayed up on his feet as the two females sat on the log, Claw paced back and forth near them, and Swift stood back behind them with his eyes scanning the woods. They waited five minutes, and then ten minutes, and then fifteen minutes, and then half an hour. Kyven started getting worried after the half hour, worried that Clover had run into trouble with someone who saw she had no collar, worried that something had gone wrong.
He was sure of it when he heard a thunderclap, then another thunderclap, and then a gunshot. Both he and Claw found themselves taking a step forward, but then Kyven steadied himself and put a hand out to stop the cougar. Clover was a big girl, she was a Shaman, she'd call him if she needed help. Just do what she wanted, protect the others.
That confidence faded when Toby appeared in the trees. He was running straight at Kyven with amazing speed, and Kyven took a single step back and bared his fangs. He had people to protect, he couldn't run!
No, if he ran, he'd be protecting them, Toby was only interested in him!
"Swift, protect them!" Kyven barked, then he turned, dropped to all fours, then loped off back towards the village. Kyven slithered aside when the tendril of the snaring whip lashed out, striking the tree behind him, but when he was clear of the others, he slid to a stop on all fours, rose up on his legs, and then squared off against the persistent hunter.
"Ah have tah take ya back," Toby called as he rushed forward with his whip.
"I'm never going back," Kyven growled, "and I'm not the easy mark you chased to Atan anymore." Where was Clover? Was she alright? Did Toby ambush her and kill her, to eliminate her? No, he didn't know she was with him, but did Clover attack him in the street, and get killed for her underestimating him? That was possible. Toby lashed the whip at him, which Kyven caught with his hand. He opened his eyes to the spirits and was about to channel lightning through the whip and into him, but Clover was there, coming out of nowhere. She slid to a stop behind the man, who was already turning to face her with a shocked look on his face, but she reached out and touched him just once, almost gently, and the tendril stuck to his hand evaporated. Toby reached for his knife, but the Shaman didn't move, only used magic. She channeled a spell that struck Toby like a fist, but Clover never moved. The hunter catapulted backwards and slammed into a tree, then sank dazed to the earth. Clover walked over and grabbed him by his vest, hauled him off the ground with one arm, and then slammed him into the tree trunk. The man was dazed, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth, but Clover was just giving him a light, almost amused smile. "You should have made sure of me, human," she told him, almost conversationally. "But you're good. I'll give you that. I think I've pulled your teeth, but I do think you need a little something to remember me by."
"What happened, Clover?" Kyven asked, noticing that the gray fur on her right thigh, just under her breeches, was bloody.
"He saw us skirting the village and tried to catch me to lure you out," she answered. "He was actually polite about it, but I was quite surprised when he cancelled my spell, grounded my lightning, and retaliated with his pistol. He shot me in the leg of all places. Too bad for him I can heal," she chuckled. "But now he has to be shown how much I disapprove of being shot." She dragged him over to the log as the females scattered, sat down, turned Toby over her knee, then proceeded to spank him like a misbehaving child. She spanked him hard and thoroughly, and he did not resist. Kyven suspected that the blow to his head had given him a concussion. After she finished spanking him, she tossed him aside like so much chaff and stood up. "Let's go."
Kyven looked down at the still form of Toby, who then groaned and made jerky movements. My, how the mighty had fallen in his eyes. He'd been so afraid of the hunter, but he'd just seen him literally spanked right before his very eyes. "What did you do to him?" Kyven asked.
"I drained all the crystals in his alchemical devices," she said with a grin. "Without those, he's not quite so formidable. And by the time he finds crystals to replace them, we'll be well ahead of him."
"You have got to show me how you do that," Kyven said as Clover walked back towards the village.
"Why not kill him?" Claw asked with a dreadful eagerness.
"I never kill unless I have no other choice, Claw," she said simply. "He is suitably pacified without me having to kill him, and is now no longer any threat to us. Now, move to the trail, friends. I'll meet you there. I have to go recover our goods. Swift, come with me."
"This is goodbye, my friends. Good luck, and may the spirits grant you a happy life," the canine said, nuzzling each of them in turn, then he shook Kyven's paw and nuzzled him. "Keep them safe, Shaman."
"I'll do my best," he nodded in reply.
They took up a position on the trail, with Kyven standing between the others and the village, vigilant and watchful. Clover put their safety in his hands, and he was taking her charge very seriously. He kept scanning the woods and the town, looking for any danger, and his ears were up and listening intently. He was quite surprised by what he saw. He thought Toby would put up more of a fight than that, but it just went to show how dangerous the Shaman could be. Toby had shot her and she just healed the wound, then she ambushed him here while his attention was fixed on Kyven, while he thought she was injured and out of action. She had moved so fast, caught him by surprise, and then it was over. Without his alchemical devices, he was just one man against a Shaman, and that was a very tilted playing field. Clover still had her magic, but Toby's magical devices were rendered useless with that single touch. And without those, he had to fight her with nothing but a knife… which didn't last long.
A prospector leading a mule approached from the west. Kyven held Claw back from attacking and had them clear the path, and they watched the man, mule, and the canine Arcan behind them amble by, an Arcan with no collar. The Arcan just smiled and reached out his hand to them, touching each of them as he went by, then he hurried up to the human's side and started talking to him as he put his collar on.
"Why doesn't he run?" Claw asked in confusion.
"He must rather like the human," the raccoon mused. "That, or he's been broken."
"That wasn't the smile of a broken Arcan," Patches said. "I think he wants to be here. Strange," she noted.
Clover returned a moment later carrying five packs, each with a bedroll. She handed them out to each of them, and Kyven found his very light, virtually empty. "We will fill our waterskins later, at a cleaner stream," she smiled. "Let us be off now, my friends. We have a ways to go before we rest."
Clover dropped to all fours and loped off down the trail, and the others followed her. But Kyven froze when he looked past the village, down the slope, were the river was visible, and saw five horses, four of them holding riders, waiting as the ferry rowed across the river.
Danna.
He sighed and turned to catch up with the others. But half of him wanted to go the other way, to go see her. He wanted to see her, to talk to her… to touch her. But he couldn't. Not right now.
But maybe soon. Clet and Stripes gave him some hope. When they finally collected her, he could try to talk to her, show her the man behind the Arcan, and maybe she'd be at least inclined towards him.
It was always worth a try.
Miserable place.
Danna led her three remaining men off the ferry and to the frontier settlement of Deep River, and she watched them all stare at them curiously, and a little nervously or speculatively. Places like this were populated by criminals and low types, many of them with warrants against them by civilized towns, and so they came to places like this to hide. Deep River was just an example of the many frontier towns scattered across the far side of the Smoke Mountains, filled with mountain men, prospectors, and brave frontier settlers who were willing to live without crystal-based devices and farm the land the old fashioned way, living literally by the mercy of the seasons and the wilderness, where a series of bad harvests or a single encounter with a savage monster could mean death for them.
Monsters. She could only look at the empty horse behind her, and the bandage on Evad's arm. They'd already had their first run-in with a monster, and it cost her one of her men. It was a Wolveran, a huge wolverine-like creature that was nearly the size of a pony. It had ambushed them yesterday morning, jumping off a rock face and landing right on Verka. He was killed almost instantly, his head literally ripped off by the thing, then it knocked the horse down jumping towards Evad. It swiped him out of the saddle, lacerating his arm with four deep, nasty gashes, but then it was shot dead by Danna's crystal slug, a bullet that killed what it hit. That round cost her nearly four hundred chits, but it was worth it to drop that thing before it killed more of her men. There was little they could do. They buried Verka, said a prayer for him, and pressed on.
That only steeled their resolve, though. The men had been told what they were chasing, and they understood how important it was to capture that Arcan–man–whatever he was and find out just what the hell happened to him. This was something that would be of tremendous importance to the Loremasters. Something they'd never encountered before had done this, something none of them believed possible, and so finding the answer was of critical importance.
They knew it would be dangerous. The wilderness was filled with monsters, wild Arcans, and unfriendly mountain men, but Danna had taken precautions. All their Loreguard surcoats were packed away, as were their chain jacks, which weren't really worn by people outside of an army or the Loreguard. They wore plain clothing, if fine clothing, and that fact and their horses made people wary of them. They didn't look like the kind of people who would be in a place like this, and people in places like this didn't like people like that. Danna led her horse and tried to stop several people, who shied away from her, until she cornered a blind man being led by a small cat Arcan. "I'm looking for an Arcan," she told them.
"Well, given I can't see, I can say with some truth that I ain't seen him," the old blind man chuckled, his eyes milky white with cataracts.
She was about to take the old man to task for his attitude, but a familiar voice interrupted. "Y'all may as well turn around an' go back," the hunter, Toby said as he limped down the street. "He got away from me just a bit ago. Ah think," he grunted, touching his bloody cheek. "He's got a Shaman with him now. She's protectin' him."
The old man and cat scurried off, and Danna motioned to her men to let them go. "And that means you're giving up?"
"Ah don't nevah give up," he said simply. "But that Shaman done put me behind. She shattered the crystals in mah gear, an' Ah have tah replace 'em."
"Well, I'd say good luck to you, but since I'm after your quarry, I won't be a hypocrit," she told him simply.
"Ah think we might be makin' a deal ovah him," Toby told her. "He's got a Shaman with him now, he won't be easy tah catch 'tall. Ah think it might take all o' us tah bring him in."
"If we catch him, hunter, we keep him."
"Ah understand that. But y'all can write a lettah Ah can take back tah Alamar statin' Ah did catch him, but y'all confiscated him. And perhaps pay what he's worth," he added. "So Ah can get mah deposit back from Annette Ledwell."
Danna looked at the man and considered it. He was clearly a good hunter, and was quite fearless. He'd chased the Arcan into the frontier alone, and had even had the guts to fight a Shaman. He lost, but he wasn't afraid, and from the sound of it, he'd take the Shaman on again. "You won't contest our possession of him?"
"Give me that lettah and at least be willin' tah bargain a fair price fo' him in good faith, an' Ah will not," he affirmed. "Ah think teamin' with y'all will be the only way Ah can catch him, now that he has a Shaman protectin' him."
"I think you were right, Captain," Bardin noted. "If the Shaman have an interest in him as well, then we really need to capture him. To keep him away from them if nothing else."
"You have a deal, hunter," she told him. "I'm afraid I lost one of my men, but you can use his horse for now."
"Toby. Toby Fisher," he said by way of introduction. "Let me replace the crystals in mah gear, and Ah'll be ready tah go. They can't be far ahead o' us. Ah tangled with 'em not but an hour ago."
"Take your time to get what you need, since we need to resupply as well. They can run all they want," Danna stated simply, holding up a small compass, a compass with a red needle, watching the needle turn and point west, pointing right to him. "We'll catch him."
A Shaman? Well, she had one shot left of her killing rounds. That would take care of that Shaman. Once the Shaman was out of the way, they'd be able to capture Kyven, especially with the formidable hunter's help. And once she had him, she would discover his secret.
And once she knew his secret… what then? What would the Loremasters do with him? She wasn't sure. If it wasn't his fault, they should be lenient with him. He was running now out of fear, nothing else. She would show him that he didn't have to be afraid of them. The Loremasters were working for the betterment of all people, she really believed that… but she felt that the order needed a little cleaning out. The deaths she'd originally been investigating had included a very ugly fact the Loreguard had covered up, that the four men killed had raped and killed a young woman, literally in the act. They couldn't permit people to go around and dish out their own form of justice, especially against the upholders of law and order, but in her opinion, men capable of such unspeakable acts should never have been given the uniform to wear in the first place. It had been the first time she'd been ashamed of her order, and if she had anything to say about it, it would be the last. She would return from this mission and start digging through the Loreguard to weed out undesirables and sack them. She wasn't about to investigate another case of a dead Loreguard killed while committing a crime himself.
But that was in the future. For right now, she had to capture Kyven and find out just what happened to him. And she had to admit, she'd enjoy the ride back. She'd have him right here, able to talk to him, able to get to know him. It was his handsome face that had piqued her curiosity about him, but now she wanted to get to know the man behind that face. With luck, the Loremasters would find a way to change him back, and then when he was human…
She put that out of her mind. One step at a time. First, she had to catch him, but now there was a complication. A Shaman. The Shaman wanted him too, and what was not good was that they had him, and he was willing to go with them. Of course he would be. He was an Arcan now, they would offer to protect him and he'd believe them. But he didn't know Shaman. They couldn't be trusted. They did the bidding of some dark, sinister force that they called the spirits, who sought to subvert the natural order of things where humans ruled and Arcans served. The Shaman wanted to turn that over, subjugate humanity to the Arcans, which would cause the total destruction of all society, since the vast majority of Arcans were stupid and could not take care of themselves. And those rare few intelligent Arcans wanted to put the animals in control?
Insanity.
But that too was in the future. She had one shot left from her killing rounds, and that shot had that Shaman's name written on it. She would kill the Shaman, and that would make Kyven an easy mark to capture and take back to the Loremasters.
And then she'd discover the truth of him.