Chapter Ten
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“I’ll stay, if the presence of goblins about worries ya,” I said.
Delia answered me with a sound in the back of her throat like a half-grunt, half-belch. She didn’t even meet my eye. As I expected, she held no appreciation for my offer. I caught Ike’s supportive nod as he walked over to pick up his bedroll, bow and quiver.
I repeated to myself, I’d enjoy a change of pace.
In reality though, I love the peacefulness of my home. Didn’t look forward to sleepin’ on the ground, I didn’t know how many nights, gnawin’ on dried meat, drinkin’ when we crossed a runnin’ stream. Though there are truly plenty of them on the Lake’s watershed, gushin’ with ice-cold snow melt.
Though, still need to consider acquirin’ a larger water flask.
I slipped my burdens over my shoulder and grabbed my staff, followin’ Lucas and Ike out the door. The cool mornin’ air felt good.
What mist wove through the trees earlier cleared before the sun rose above the near peaks. Ike led, settin’ a brisk pace I expected would press the human within the hour. Lucas settled at my side when the terrain allowed, tryin’ to initiate small talk from time to time. I curtly answered questions about Delia with, “I told ya I just met her when her cabin burned.”
It wasn’t a lie. Though her rock sling worried me for years.
“I’m struck by her beauty,” Lucas said.
Not what I want to hear.
We crested a challengin’ ledge and Ike veered southwesterly along the ridge. We were already a full day behind the goblin scout. But what if the goblin didn’t remain on the southerly route he turned after passin’ Delia’s cabin? What if we crossed his trail without ever seein’ it, or scentin’ it? Should I have led them to the point our friend abandoned my staff? Perhaps we could have benefited from gettin’ on his trail early. Instead of makin’ up distance and time, expectin’ to cross his path.
I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. Figgered Ike’s strategy was as good as any. This was his endeavor, after all. Besides, I wasn’t truly certain I wanted to even find a single goblin, much less a huntin’ party of them. And I wasn’t ashamed to admit that. I wouldn’t speak it, but it didn’t bother me to admit it to myself.
Lucas’ brow was bathed with sweat by the time we climbed the boulders of a saddle leadin’ to a higher peak. It put a perverse smile on my face. The human’s shorter stride was a distinct disadvantage. Ogres have twice the body strength as well, which aided us as we climbed. But Lucas had the advantage when we struggled in loose soil or gravel durin’ ascents. He didn’t have to worry about gravity pushin’ him back two steps for every three forward.
Despite averagin’ a gentle run, Ike didn’t break until mid-afternoon. I was glad to rest. Muscles in my lower back were tight, legs ached, and I no longer enjoyed imaginin’ the discomfort the pace rewarded the human. Lucas’ face was sickly flushed, leather jerkin soakin’ wet with sweat—yet never complained a whit. While he sat in the shade, I brought him cool water from the creek.
Ike stood completely still fifty feet away, blendin’ into the shadow of a tree, starin’ into the woods. The young ogre could tease with abandon, but there’s intensity in his character. Ike cocked his head left and right, listenin’. Maybe because he was raised around an elf. We ogres aren’t graced with the greatest hearin’.
Takin’ his lead, I noted the bird sounds were wrong. There were no territorial challenges, irritation with our presence, no crows followin’ as they would a huntin’ party for a free meal. Most remained higher in the trees, not where they would find their edibles.
I stood straighter and grasped my staff with both hands, closin’ my eyes and castin’ for an aura that didn’t belong. Turned slowly, huntin’ for an emotion, a smell, even a thought the forest shouldn’t have. I faced due west and saw the creature in my mind’s eye, tall, wieldin’ a bow with a notched arrow, creepin’ closer, attemptin’ to stay behind brush. Harm, his intention.
Reactin’ with raw instinct, I sprang forward before even openin’ my eyes. Leapt the creek and ran up the rise of the opposite embankment. Not a soul was yet in sight but I was confident the danger stood behind the shadows of the next clump of brush. Fear danced across my shoulders, the sense of anger, and danger. Pullin’ from the ethereal, I empowered the staff’s wards. The motion in front of me was too fast to see. Only sensed the arrow for what it was. It slowed mid-air. Captured by the staff, the arrow fell harmlessly to the ground.
I crashed through the brush. The attacker had already notched another arrow. Five steps away—the arrow drew back. Three steps—I dipped the head of the staff forward closin’ the distance, catchin’ the goblin just above the temple. I thrust all my weight into the blow, runnin’ through the object I counterattacked.
The power built up in the staff released. Pure energy rushed through me, freein’ me from the collision. Any fatigue I had felt, evaporated. I stopped and turned around to search for the goblin. Blinkin’, confused, I struggled to understand what I just experienced. Certainly had never used my majic like this before.
At my feet lay a shattered corpse, one of the most feared giants. I stepped back and planted the base of the staff on the ground, reached up to wipe the sweat away that blurred my vision. Blinked hard as I tried to dry my hand, but the sticky feelin’ wouldn’t go away. I wiped more sweat off my brow, noticed my hand as it pulled away, was bloody. Soaked in blood! I looked down to see I was covered in it. My stomach churned. The goblin’s corpse lay splayed across the ferns, its head burst open like a ripe tomato thrown against the rocks, makin’ the torso seem headless—well, it was.
The rustle of slidin’ pine needles and gravel drew my eyes from the dead creature. Ike appeared through the underbrush. He stopped and pulled away his own notched arrow, but his eyes continued to search left and right. He appeared to be holdin’ his breath.
Listened to the forest.
More steps. The exhausted human struggled through the scrub to join us. “All that’s holy! What happened to that thin’?”
Ike turned to me slowly, as a faint smile crossed his lips. “Ya were wrong,” he said. “Our friend here ain’t a dainty woodland flower.”
“I never called him that.” Lucas turned to me. “I never called ya that. Holy saints! Ya’re covered in blood.” He turned back to Ike. “Ya think our goblin friend is alone?”
“If ya would shut up, we could listen and find out.” Ike turned and walked five steps away from us and froze.
I decided listenin’ might be a good thin’ to do, though something inside told me I’d just killed the solitary scout we’d been searchin’ for. Nonetheless, I raised my staff. Didn’t need to draw any power. Residual majic hummed about the surface of the ash, vibrated through my body. I easily slipped into my mind’s eye, searched the area in a complete circle. There were no other two-legged creatures near.
“No one else.” My voice broke. Sounded as though it belonged to a hundred-year-old ogre. Without warnin’, a cramp formed in my lower back. My belly threatened to empty, and my throat tightened. I managed two steps before I went to my knees and retched.
Hands pulled my dreadlocks away from my face, then one cool palm covered my forehead, supportin’ me as I heaved several more times. It burned like a hot poker eruptin’ through my esophagus. When I was confident my body was through reactin’, I spat and cleared my throat.
Someone behind me was also vomitin’. The hand pulled away, no doubt to help our companion. When I recovered enough to look about, Ike held his human friend. I twisted to lower onto my backside, thankful one of the three of us had a stomach—as Ike lurched away from Lucas.
Even Ike.
~
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