The Fog of Forgetting (12 page)

“The child must never be left alone again,” said Mara plainly.

“But he wasn't alone,” said Seaborne. “We left him with Tar. I'd bet my life on Tar defending any one of us. Where is that blasted hound anyway?”

Teddy looked up at the circle of faces towering above him.

“He thmelled thomething,” he said.

Calla looked puzzled. She touched Seaborne on the arm and she and Duon retreated back into the forest. Seaborne frowned, putting his hand to his machete.

“He smelled something? What do you mean?”

“I don't know,” Teddy said. “I wath digging and then Tar thniffed the air and leaped over me and ran away. I wanted to know where he wath going.”

Seaborne crossed his arms. “Tar would never leave his post, unless—” His hand strayed toward his shoulder, toward the long sword strapped in its scabbard.

“Unless what?” asked Knox.

“Unless he sensed a greater danger, something—” Seaborne was cut off by the sound of Evelyn shouting.

“What now?” cried Mara.

At the cabin, Evelyn knelt beside a burnt circle of grass.

“She's gone. She's gone!” she moaned. “Frankie's gone.”

Mara looked at Seaborne. “Get the children into the cabin.”

“No!” shouted Knox. He turned to run after Calla and Duon but Seaborne stopped him, lifting him up with one arm. He crossed the clearing to the cabin, shoved the door open, and heaved the boy onto the floor.

“Now is not the time, Knox. You've been given weapons for a reason. You must stay here and guard the others, especially Teddy! The smaller ones are most vulnerable.” Seaborne came back to Chase, Teddy, and Mara, who was kneeling over Evelyn. Slowly, Mara helped her up and half-carried her across to the cabin. Teddy followed closely behind. Seaborne stared at Chase, looking into his eyes with a ferocity that scared him more than anything else that had happened so far.

“I will not lie to you, boy. All your strength and courage are required at this moment. The enemy is afoot; he is near and may strike again. If he does, you must draw on the skills you have learned. Heed your daylights.” And with that he was gone, running down the path toward the beach.

Chase followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight, then turned to face what lay waiting for him in the cabin. Everything had happened so fast. The weight of the sword around his waist made him limp a little as he walked. Mara emerged on the doorstep. Her hood was pulled far over her forehead, her expression buried in shadow.

“The girl, Evelyn, is asleep. I have given her a calming draught. You must stay inside the cabin, but be alert—keep your sword unsheathed and, above all, do not light any fires!”

“Where are you going?” asked Chase, wishing his voice didn't sound quite so young and nervous.

“My heart tells me that the enemy has struck at more than one today.” She swept silently into the forest, the sharp tip of a knife glinting below her poncho.

Chase entered the cabin and closed the door. Evelyn's sleeping form lay on the bed under the covers. Knox sat at the hearth, fastening feathers to the tails of a bundle of newly hewn arrow shafts. His mouth was set in a grim line as he stacked the arrows on the floor one by one. Teddy watched him silently from the foot of the bed. Chase drew his sword and leaned his back against the wall between the window and the door. His ears were tingling with the effort of listening for movement outside.

Knox looked at Teddy, then Chase, and then, meaningfully, across at Evelyn, sleeping on the bed.

“We have to get her back,” he growled, then returned to his work, sharpening his knives on the small whetstone at his feet, as though he'd been doing it all his life.

What seemed like hours passed in silence. Teddy fell asleep on the bed at Evelyn's feet. Chase's back and legs were aching from standing at attention by the window for so long. Knox had turned from arrow-making to throwing his knives against the wall. A dull
thwack
greeted each meeting of knife and wood, accompanied by a curse. He paced back and forth between throws, complaining in hoarse whispers to Chase.

Chase was silent but positioned his body to watch the window and bar the door against Knox escaping as well as he could manage. He looked out the window for what felt like the millionth time that day. The sun was westering, bringing on the customary afternoon chill, and the trees cast long shadows into the clearing. Chase looked longingly at the fireplace, wishing for the warmth and security a fire would provide.

“Don't even think about it!” Knox hissed, guessing his brother's thoughts.

Chase returned to his vigil by the window. His eyes were tired and sore and his head hurt from trying to figure out what had happened. From his vantage point, he could see the charred circle of grass and ground. It looked like a lightning strike—but Frankie had disappeared in broad daylight under an almost cloudless sky. A small rustle of movement at the periphery of the clearing caught his eye.

“Knox!” he whispered. “Get over here!”

Knox was there in an instant, an arrow already nocked in his bow. For several heart-pounding seconds they stared out the small aperture, straining to make out anything unusual. A shrill whistle sounded from the wood, bird-like, which was quickly followed by another matching trill in a lower register.

Chase slumped his head on the windowsill in relief. Knox lowered his bow. It was the all-clear signal. The Melorians entered the clearing as they always did—emerging from the lip of the woods in single file—only this time Sarn was carrying the crossbow. Tinator bore a large, misshapen burden around his shoulders. At his side, Axl worried the edge of his tunic. Seaborne, Mara, and Calla followed. Duon and Duor stayed behind to patrol the edge of the clearing. Tinator knelt down when he reached the grass and transferred Tar's heavy body to the ground.

“Oh no!” cried Knox, racing out of the cabin. He crashed to his knees alongside the massive hound. “Is he dead?”

“Not quite,” replied Tinator, putting his ear to the dog's furry rib cage. “He has been sorely abused.”

Tinator stroked the large head with one hand as the other explored Tar's spine and forelegs, checking for wounds. Great gashes that looked like claw marks had been opened around his neck and haunches. All over his body, chunks of fur and skin were missing. Axl licked frantically at Tar's mouth.

“What happened to him?”

“
Tehuantl
,” Tinator grunted. “They are an ancient race not often seen in Melor—but then, they are not the only strange creatures to stray into our lands these days.” He looked pointedly at Knox.

Calla took over guarding the door of the cabin so that Chase could join his brother. The grass was stained red with Tar's blood and the poor dog's flank was ripped open, exposing strips of pulsating pink-and-white tissue that lay beneath his skin. Chase looked away, nauseated.

With Mara's help, Tinator gently turned Tar over and combed through the matted hair at the juncture of his hind leg and underbelly. There, barely visible, was a two-inch wound, crusted over with dried blood. Around the wound, Tar's matted fur was stained a darker color.

“His wounds are already closing, but there is something poisonous left inside that has left him helpless,” said Tinator. “Some dark Exorian art forged to defeat the healing power of the daylights.” He looked at Mara for answers.

“We will have to cut it out,” she said simply, drawing her knife.

“
THTOP!
” came a shriek from the cabin. Calla was wrestling with Teddy at the door.

“He's hurt, Ted! Mara needs to operate on him,” Chase yelled back, quickly.

“Wait!” Teddy freed himself and bolted into the group.

“C'mon, Tedders, you don't want to see this,” Knox said, his voice thick.

Seaborne disagreed, shaking his head.

“The little one should see if he wants to; so should you all. We have warned you of the dangers of the enemy—now you must learn for yourself. No one is safe.” He stroked Tar's head, adding, “Not even a mighty hound of Melor.”

“He will need to be held down,” Mara advised, tightening her grip on the knife.

Tinator leaned in close to Tar's enormous head. Seaborne moved to hold his body, but Knox pushed his hand away.

“I want to do it.”

Mara poised the dagger over the wound and sliced into Tar's flank. The dog screamed and pawed the ground violently, trying to escape. Knox, Tinator, and Seaborne bore down on him to combine their weight. Chase was still unable to look. Mara worked quickly, exploring tentatively at first, then more desperately.

Tar's breath grew jagged. His eyelids fluttered. Axl whimpered and then howled, a long, drawn-out cry that flushed birds from the tree limbs.

“You're hurting him!” sobbed Teddy.

Knox began to cry openly, too, not bothering to wipe away the tears.

“Here.” Mara motioned to Chase with her free hand. “Hold this open.”

Chase knelt by her side to take the hilt of the knife, which now served to keep the skin pulled apart. Tar's wound was doubled now; blood geysered from the opening. Chase's stomach revolted and he almost dropped the knife.

“Hold it steady, now,” hissed Mara.

Axl let out another sorrowful howl; Teddy sobbed louder. Chase gritted his teeth and clenched his fist harder around the hilt of the knife. Mara plunged her fingers into the gaping wound. Tar screamed again, then whimpered; then he stopped struggling and lay deathly quiet. After several intolerable seconds, Mara exhaled.

“I have it,” she said, and slowly drew out a long, gray splinter from Tar's side. She placed it gingerly in the pocket of her poncho. Once it was safely stowed, she moved faster than Chase had ever seen anyone move, grabbing the knife and roughly pushing him away. Tinator knelt beside her. They covered the bleeding wound with their hands. Mara began a low chant in an unintelligible language, which Tinator joined. Waves of heat radiated from their bodies.

Teddy and Knox lay flat on the ground, their heads buried against Tar's head, both sobbing. Tar's eyes were closed and his tongue lolled at the side of his mouth. He didn't appear to be breathing. Chase crawled over to his brothers and pressed his face into the cool ground next to Teddy. A sudden thought made him sit bolt upright.

Tar had been guarding Teddy
.

Chase hung his head, ashamed of how he had almost lost his grip on the knife. What if whatever that thing was inside Tar had been meant for Teddy?

Mara and Tinator stopped chanting and removed their hands. Tar's breath deepened; his eyelids quivered, then opened, pale pink rims, almost black irises. Axl gave a great bark and barreled through, frantically licking the deep slash made by Mara's dagger and the wounds made by the
tehuantl
, which, as Tinator had said, were already sealing themselves. Several tense minutes passed before Tar rolled gingerly onto his stomach, panting.

Tinator stroked his side. “Now, now, my friend. You are strong, but you must rest—and drink.” He cradled the hound's massive head with his hands and bowed his own forehead to meet it. “I will fetch you water.”

Tar tossed his head back and licked Tinator's hand, his tail wagging limply. Tar was weak, but he was alive.

When Tinator returned with water from the stream, he sighed deeply, then spoke.

“I know not what these events mean, but they do not bode well for your safety. This cabin is no longer secure, if ever it was. We have drawn the fire of the Exorians, and I”—he swallowed—“I am no longer confident that I have the ability to protect you.”

His eyes darted around the clearing and landed on Mara's poncho. He lifted it delicately and folded it several times into a thick bundle around the deadly sliver.

“The enemy's weapons and reach have grown more deadly. We must take this to Rothermel. He will learn of all that has happened here today. Once the girl has risen and Tar can walk, we will depart.”

“What about Frankie?” asked Knox. “She has to be around here somewhere! We can't just let her get ripped apart like Tar!”

Tinator's face blackened. “Never before have the enemy's forces dared to strike, unprovoked, with so many warriors at hand. My hope is that they have some use for the girl. If that is so, she will be kept alive. Most are.”

“
Most?
There are others?” Chase was horrified.

“The enemy cares little for sustaining the daylights of his own people,” replied Tinator. “Exorians are powerful, but short-lived. The imbalance of their daylights consumes their vessels, so the enemy must find his … reinforcements elsewhere. He hunts often in Melor. But why he has chosen the young girl, and gone to such lengths to get her—” Tinator shook his head. “I do not know.”

Chase and Knox unhooked and rolled their hammocks. Seaborne brought them each a basket to carry their few belongings—along with Evelyn's and Teddy's—on their backs. Knox gathered the arrows he'd made and restocked his quiver; he slung it and the bow over his shoulder and attached his knives to his harness, stuffing one into his tube sock, which was now brown with dirt. He pulled the pant leg down, straightened, and grabbed his basket.