Chapter Fifty-Six: Ambush
Xaphile's nap was destined to be a short-lived affair.
He woke to Ella shaking him, pulling him to a sitting position, and helping him slide into his pants. When she shoved his feet into his boots, he stared stupidly at her.
"Can you at least try not to be dead weight?" Ella snapped. "Wake up!"
Xaphile couldn't even formulate a response. He coughed a few times and spat out the mucus in his lungs before staring off into space, unable to do much else. However, she was incongruously delicate in dressing him despite her harsh words, and when she handled his injured leg, it was with fingers that seemed used to handling the most fragile of crystal or glass.
"He's ill... don't belittle him!" Vrael growled, giving her a dangerous scowl. "He can't help it!"
Xaphile stared up at him as Ella gently tugged a short-sleeved tunic over his head, wondering what was going on, then turned his face back to Ella. The girl was glaring profusely at his shirt.
Ella...? he finally asked. What's going on?
"We're leaving," she snapped. "Sinmir is going to be carrying you. Just stay quiet and cooperate... do you think you can handle that, you mental oaf?"
The insult didn't even register.
Looking half-awake, pale face flushed, he simply nodded. She frowned even harder when he gave her a docile look. Sinmir sauntered up when she finally got to her feet, then turned and squatted down in front of him.
Xaphile blinked, watching as the blonde glanced back over his shoulder.
"Since I've got the most endurance, I'm gonna be carrying you," he grunted, giving a toothy grin and waggling his fingers; it took a bit for his words to actually mean something. "Climb on, lad... can't have you dying on me before we can make good on that bet."
Giving a slow blink, Xaphile nodded and leaned forward.
With joints as stiff as cooked spaghetti, he scooted up until he could rest his forehead between Sinmir's shoulder blades. The small movements exhausted him, but with a few bursts of energy, he eventually managed to drag his legs to either side of the man's hips.
Sinmir frowned, since he actually had to reach back and put his arms around his neck.
"He's weaker than I thought," the prince muttered, rolling his shoulders. "I hope whatever you're planning works, otherwise he might be in real trouble."
"It's the only chance we might have," Gus retorted from a small distance away. "Let's move out."
"Try to hold on," Sinmir grunted, large hands slipping under Xaphile's knees. "Up we go."
With a jolt, the blonde yanked him flush against his back so he could stand up without leaving him stranded on the ground. Sinmir had to walk a little like a hunch-back to keep him from losing his grip, but sure enough they managed to start moving.
Xaphile could see their surroundings since his head was pillowed on Sinmir's shoulder.
Ella, who was watching them from afar, scowled.
"He's going to fall off," she said, speaking in an 'I'm-saying-something-that-you're-too-stupid-to-notice' sort of voice.
"Watch your tone with me, girl... I'm not one of your lackeys," Sinmir snappishly retorted, casting a warning look her way. "He's too weak to attempt locking his hands. I'll manage."
Long ear twitching and brushing against Sinmir's thick neck, he twined his clawed fingers together in a self-conscious attempt to keep his grip.
A few seconds later, however, they went limp. Ella rolled her eyes and bent down, taking off her backpack and tearing into it. After a moment, she pulled out a small strip of white cloth and approached the two of them.
"Phil, grab both of your elbows," she snapped. "Right now."
He did so without complaint.
The motion scooted him into a much more comfortable position on Sinmir's back. Ella promptly began to wind the white cloth around his overlapping forearms in neat circles.
I'm like a mummy! he thought with a dazed chuckle. Mummy-Phil!
Ella stared at him when he peered owlishly over Sinmir's shoulder, lips curling back over her teeth.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," she snorted, stepping back. "He'll stay now. Tug too hard and it'll come undone, but it's better than you choking."
"Thanks for the help," Sinmir said, hefting his weight.
"Indeed," Ella confirmed, grabbing her pack and marching away. "Follow me."
Sinmir turned to follow her, each step sending a small bounce through Xaphile's body. He coughed a few times, but luckily he wasn't hit with a major fit.
"We should get going," Gus said, tucking the map into his pocket. "Should I lead?"
"Yes," Ella confirmed, nodding. "I'll go second; Amelia and Vrael, you two take up the rear. Sinmir, follow me."
"Understood," the prince retorted, arms clenching tight around Xaphile's thighs. "Let's move."
Thus, they started walking without preamble. For a while, the motion of Sinmir's steps made relaxing impossible.
Soon, however, he got used to the man's rhythm and loosened up. He drifted in and out of a doze, remembering vaguely that he'd always fallen asleep on car trips as a kid.
Something about the constant motion and the unbroken hum of tires on pavement had lulled him like nothing else could, but this whole piggy-backing thing was turning out to have a similar effect.
Between one mini-doze and the next, they made the journey through the silver forests towards the spot Gus was leading them to, branches passing their shadows over his face between one instant and the next.
It was during one of these moments that he felt it.
His eyes flashed open with shocking lucidity and his arms tightened around Sinmir's neck.
A violent shiver swept through him and his eyes slowly shifted.
"Stop!" he croaked in a voice so hoarse it sounded like paper ripping. "STOP!"
Everyone halted and looked at him when he laboriously lifted his head. He stared off at something in the woods with huge eyes, flushed face turning oddly chalky.
What is it? Ella silently demanded, looking back at him and following his gaze. Tell me!
That thing from the woods is back, he explained, staring at the fire-eyed child with unblinking eyes. It simply stood there, a menacing-looking specter. It's looking right at me...
And it was.
The creature was standing there, long hair drifting around... but then, eyes widening, it turned and fled.
He blinked, then frowned.
Well? Ella silently demanded. What's it doing?
It left, Xaphile explained, shaking his head. It turned around and vanished into the woods.
"What do you think it was?" she demanded aloud, making everyone stare at her. "And why are we unable to see it?"
"See what?" Amelia asked, glancing at them warily. "What are you two discussing?"
"Mere minutes before you nearly fell off the cliff," Ella explained, giving a grumpy shrug, "Phil saw something strange in the woods. Something that resembled a child. Neither myself nor Vrael could see it, but when I looked through his eyes using the bond we share, there was definitely something there."
"Why bring that up now?" Gus demanded, glancing over his shoulder.
"Apparently, it came back," Ella explained, putting a hand on her dagger. "It was just here, but then it left."
"What could it be?" Vrael asked, looking highly uncomfortable. "A ghost? Some remnant of a violent or dark memory held by the woods?"
"I am not certain," Ella retorted, taking note of how Amelia frowned. "What are your thoughts?"
"All beings attuned to magic are sensitive to ethereality," the brunette uneasily noted, "but in all my years, I have never once seen a ghost."
"Nor have I," Vrael admitted. "I don't like to think about such things."
Ella, however, stiffened and her face went blank.
It was then that she realized for the first time, truly realized, that she actually had seen one.
The ghost of her own doppelganger.
Her eyes darkened and her hand tightened on the dagger handle.
She didn't like being ignorant of what they were dealing with, especially since she could only assume that whatever Xaphile was seeing was not a mortal foe who could be killed.
This was unfamiliar territory for her.
"I suppose for now, what it is doesn't matter," Ella growled, eyes flashing around. "What matters is that we keep moving, putting more distance between it and us."
"Then let us be off," Gus retorted, giving them a nod. "Our destination isn't too far from here."
When he turned and began to walk again, the others followed without question.
Xaphile, however, blinked when a flash of something brown caught his eye.
He turned his head slightly, spotting a squirrel sitting up in one of the trees, watching them. He frowned a bit, since the animal didn't move at all... not even its tail. Beady black eyes remained locked on their group, its little head slowly turning to follow their progress as they walked.
He felt oddly wary of the little animal, and he was glad when it vanished behind them.
Just as they made it to a clearing and started heading towards another rocky lakeside shore, she heard something strange and stopped dead. Sinmir, directly behind her, froze under Xaphile's limp body as if he'd been turned to stone.
"Why have you stopped?" the man growled. "I almost crashed into you."
Ella turned and looked over her shoulder, not at Sinmir, but off towards the forests beyond the shore.
"Do you hear that?" she lowly demanded. "Listen... do you hear that distant rumbling sound?"
Everyone fell quiet, listening, and sure enough there was actually a distant, inconsistent rumble coming from off in the distance. Sinmir stiffened and Vrael's long ears twitched before pulling low in alarm. Xaphile's hackles stood on end, although for what reason he didn't know.
Then, Amelia said something that made his thudding heart skip a beat.
"Something's coming," she whispered, whipping around with a frightened expression. "I... I'm sensing a strong magical force approaching from the east."
"We need to move!" Gus barked. "Vrael, freeze the water. Now! We have to get across!"
"On it!" the halfling squeaked, tearing towards the shoreline. "It might take a little while!"
"Just do it!" Sinmir commanded, hefting Xaphile's body a little more securely. "Hurry!"
Lifting his arms, Vrael began to chant low under his breath and his hands were engulfed in a strange blue light. Lifting them high above his head and tucking his chin into his collar, he waved them around with arcane flourishes as he uttered a strange mantra.
With a growl, Sinmir stepped behind Ella, watching as she drew her daggers.
"I-I-I can feel them drawing closer," Amelia stammered, shoulders bunching up; her blue eyes were huge, and she looked frightened. "I don't know what's headed our way, but whatever they are, they're strong... and there are a lot of them! I have a bad feeling about this!"
"Cover me with your magic, Amelia," Ella called, flicking her daggers into a ready position. "Gus! Take a position near the water and watch over Vrael! Sinmir! If it becomes necessary, take Phil and make a run for it! He's the most important person here! Please, protect him!"
"It's unwise to split up," Sinmir retorted, grip tightening on Xaphile's legs. "If Amelia's words are true, there's more than one enemy headed our way! They could send a smaller party after us!"
Ella bristled.
"He'll make us all vulnerable if we have to guard him!" she snapped. "It makes more sense for you to take him and run!"
"They're coming..." Amelia breathed, eyes widening. "They're coming right at us!"
Xaphile's eyes traveled behind them, to the forest at their backs, and his mouth opened in shock. A wall of squirrels covered every branch and leaf behind them, a carpet of furry bodies coating the ground and trees in a twitching sea of beady eyes and bushy tails.
"Holy shit," he rasped, speaking in equal parts awe and horror. "They look pissed!"
"Shut up!" Ella hissed, tilting her head. "Do you hear that?!"
A distant crash made all of them jump... then, with a faint rumbling, the trees began to tremble, swaying back and forth as if they'd somehow come alive. One crash, then another, then another, the sound of crunching and breaking wood echoing in the distance.
Then, they burst from the forest.
"GODS ABOVE!" Amelia yelped. "WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS?!"
Sinmir went stiff beneath Xaphile's body and he let out a low whistle.
"Now," he rumbled, awed, "that is interesting."
Xaphile groggily peered over his shoulder, coughing violently.
Then his eyes widened.
A small army had literally come to a halt not even thirty meters from where they were standing.
The first thing he noticed was that the arrivals were all women.
All of them had blonde hair ranging from shades of cornflower to platinum. Long, lion-like tails the same shade as their tresses danced behind them as they charged forth, wearing nothing but leather loincloths and bras that vaguely reminded him of Xena, the Warrior Princess.
Their skin was smooth, gorgeous—ranging from dark tan to fair, they had faces that could rival models in any human magazine, but that wasn't the most shocking part.
Far from it.
The big shocker was that every single woman was riding a giant squirrel.
Oh my God... he silently whispered, peering from within his hood in utter awe. No fucking way.
But there it was: each cat-tailed woman was perched atop a squirrel that was at least twice the size of a Clydesdale horse, fuzzy ears and clawed hands and bushy tails and everything.
They had leather saddles decorated with feathers and bones that clinked together in the breeze, but he barely had any time to process any of this, since what was obviously the troop's leader came riding forward on the back of her squirrel.
To call this woman intimidating would have been an understatement.
She radiated command and intensity in inordinate amounts.
Her slightly upturned amber eyes scanned the clearing the way a queen would scan her throne room: the red paint on her bronze, sun-kissed skin defined war-lines with stunning clarity, and a wooden helm on her head boasted a black crest of stiff fur, like a Roman helmet gone Goth.
Her strawberry blonde hair had been plaited into cornrows, stretching to the middle of her back.
Her tail arched gracefully as she rode forward, long, elfish ears flicking and bobbing warily.
The other women moved out of her way respectfully, but the spears they were all carrying remained pointed straight at Xaphile and the others, even when they maneuvered away from her path. The clearing pulsed with silence when she came to a stop.
The woman's eyes swept down to them.
However, when Xaphile let out a cough, her catlike eyes flashed to him and landed on his tail.
An emotion he couldn't name flashed across her face.
Whipping around, she glanced at the army and every single woman instantly tensed.
"We mean you no harm!" Ella called, stepping forward and lifting her hands. "Please! Lower your weapons!"
The leader's lips twitched back to reveal wickedly sharp fangs and Ella jumped when she let out a hiss that could have put a panther to shame. Tossing her blonde cornrows over her shoulder, she leveled a clawed finger straight at Xaphile.
"Ill svetha mein frelau do isthil vadil de linia!" she shouted, flailing her arm. "Ame took! Ame took!"
The effect was immediate and short.
Letting out shrieks of inarticulate rage, the army of women surged forward and attacked.
Xaphile's ears flattened when they swiped spears at Sinmir, who ducked.
The squirrels snarled like wild creatures, deafening him.
They had bigger teeth than he was expecting, teeth that Sinmir flinched away from when they snapped in his direction. Xaphile flinched too, and the combined force of their flinching made the man, to both their horror, stumble.
Before he knew what was going on, they were sprawled on the ground, and true to Ella's word, the cloth on his arms came undone.
With a curse, Sinmir let go of his legs and hopped up to defend him, drawing his broadsword.
"Ella!" Amelia screeched, ducking and dodging two women who were swiping at her with their spears. "ELLA! HELP! THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!"
"I'm otherwise occupied!" Ella angrily shouted back, deflecting several spears whilst ducking and dodging the huge mounts that kept lunging at her. "Shite, this is not good!"
"Hang on!" Sinmir bellowed, charging forward. "I'm coming!"
Unfortunately, one of the women jabbed the butt of her spear into the back of his knees, sending him sprawling to the ground in front of two more women with a muffled grunt.
"Nai!" she rapped out, golden tail arching through the air. "AIl vagoth svekt bruth vadil!"
Xaphile choked when she turned, because the squirrel lunged forward, coming to a halt only a foot away from him. In horror, he stared up at her impassive face and the raging squirrel.
The beast came to stand with its front paws on either side of his body, growling face and gnashing teeth mere inches from his petrified eyes. He scrabbled against the stony beach beneath him, injured leg burning with agony.
"Xaphile!" Ella screeched, pink eyes flashing his way with fright. "Move! Run! Do something, you idiot! Get away from it! HURRY!"
But he couldn't... he stared up at his soon-to-be-murderer, watching through a terror-stricken haze as she loomed over him. He flinched when she leaned down, stretching out her large, clawed hand to surely rend his throat open with the tips of those razor-sharp talons.
That did not, however, happen.
His eyes squeezed shut in helpless fear when he felt something touch his head.
But instead of being hit, or beaten, or gouged... his hood was gently pulled off.
A gasp met his ears.
"Ith vadil," the woman breathed. "Ith laein vadil!"
When he opened his eyes, the woman was staring at him with a tender smile, and the squirrel was no longer baring its teeth. He shivered when she...
Wait a second, he muttered to himself, unable to process what he'd seen. Did she just wink at me?
Unable to fathom what had just transpired and sure he was hallucinating due to the fever, he watched in mute confusion as the woman who had exposed his face turned her mount away to face Sinmir. Xaphile's eyes darted to the left, where Amelia was crying and chucking fireballs.
Then he looked to his right, spotting Gus standing protectively in front of Vrael with his sword. The halfling was chanting, still glowing brightly: the river was half-way frozen all the way across.
Xaphile's heart nearly stopped when one of them women charged, knocking Gus out of the way and striking the side of the boy's head with her spear. With a cry of pain, his sworn brother fell to the ground, a wound on his temple streaming blood onto the stones of the shore.
Fear made his stomach lurch.
"Stop," Xaphile rasped, and then he pulled out all the stops and pushed through the pain of his sore throat to bellow, "STOP! PLEASE! STOP IT! DON'T HURT THEM!"
The moment he said it, he succumbed to a severe coughing fit.
Mucus dripped from his lips as he hacked, riding out the terrible hacking on all fours. He didn't realize just how quiet it had gotten until his coughing had stopped. The women had all frozen around his companions, heads turned his way to stare at him in shock.
He lifted his own eyes and stared back, giving them an uncertain look in return. Vrael—who had been kneeling on the ground in a wounded daze—was looking at him like he was an alien. Sinmir looked like an action movie on freeze-frame.
His sword was being held against a woman's neck.
He'd halfway pulled her out of the saddle with one of her feet still clinging to a stirrup, and her fingers had dug beneath his arm to keep him from cutting her throat, but even as she stood in the snare of death itself she had taken the time to stop and look at him.
A clatter of wood and claws behind Xaphile's back, however, drew his vision away from that tableau. He craned his head around to see the leader approaching, one fist held in the air to signify a stop in the skirmish. The others moved out of her way and backed off of Amelia, Gus, and Vrael, surrounding them in a loose circle.
Looking tense, Sinmir let go of the woman he was holding, pulling the blade off of her neck. She instantly scrambled back into her saddle and rode behind her companions when the leader came to rest just behind Xaphile, amber eyes boring into his own like drills.
Then, she opened her mouth.
"Why should we?" she asked in a velvety soft voice, one that hovered in the lower alto range. Her tone carried no hints of malice or blood lust—just curiosity, and maybe a little humor. It threw him off since he was expecting more of the former. "They were trying to harm you."
"No," Xaphile croaked, pushing away his pain and cough. "They were trying to protect me... you... you startled us. We didn't know who, or what, you were, or your intentions."
Her eyes traveled over Amelia, Gus, Sinmir, and Vrael before alighting on him. He realized, then, that she was actually extremely beautiful, even if those catlike eyes did creep him out.
"These humans," she muttered, gesturing towards them with a sweep of her hand, "are they... yours?"
"What?" he asked, vision flickering.
Her brow furrowed like folded satin.
"Are they?" she persisted, this time letting a little force seep into her voice. "Well?"
He floundered for a moment.
"Yes," he blurted, because he didn't know what else to say. "They're mine."
His words seemed to satisfy her, thank God, but then he started coughing.
When he finished and looked up at her again, he saw that she looked angry.
"They are good servants," she said in a slow, deliberate way, "if they protect you so fiercely, but to allow you to sicken is a transgression you must punish them for."
He paled.
What have I gotten myself into? he wondered. Punish them?
"We shall heal you," she whispered fiercely. "Tell your humans we mean you no harm, and to follow my kith without resistance. They will be returned to your side once we exchange proper greetings. After all, it is not every day that we receive visits from foreign Darklings."
Xaphile glanced behind him, looking first at Amelia and then Gus.
"Phil?" Amelia squeaked, face contorted into a confused mask. "Phil, what's going on?!"
"They... they say they won't hurt us if we go with them peacefully," he managed to rasp. "They want to heal me."
"No!" Gus spat, kneeling beside Vrael and pressing a sleeve against his bleeding temple. "We can't trust these creatures!"
"Don't argue!" Xaphile snapped, adding force into his voice. So much talking was growing unbearably painful, and the edges of his vision had begun to dance with swirls of blue. His elbows, holding his torso up as they were, buckled. "Just listen. For once, trust me."
"Across the river is our camp," the warrior woman said. "We will heal you and talk. Satisfied?"
Xaphile nodded numbly, and before he knew what was happening, she had spurred her squirrel forward and leaned out of her seat. He wheezed when she caught him by the waist and pulled him off the ground in front of her, sidesaddle and dazed.
His head lolled and came to rest against her mostly naked chest.
She took a closer look at his hair, and with a hesitant hand she lifted her fingers.
Before she touched it, she sighed and reluctantly pulled back.
"Phil!" Vrael cried, scrambling to his knees when the woman turned her mount back the way they had come. "No! STOP! Don't take him!"
"Just go with them and don't hurt them!" Xaphile commanded, speaking as loudly as he could. It felt like fire was racing around his throat. When he saw faces start to form protests, he said in the most authoritative voice he could muster, "do as I say now or we may not get out of this! Go!"
The leader had finished turning at that point, and he lost sight of his companions standing amid a circle of six squirrel-riding feral blonde women. He didn't notice until the last second that he didn't see Ella anywhere. Alarmed and worried, he reluctantly allowed his captor to cradle him.
He watched as trees flew by at an impossible speed.
I don't know what's going on here, he silently muttered, but I can't stay awake at all.
Slowly, his body went limp and he passed out.
Again.
Being this sick was a royal pain in the ass.