71

Chapter 21

Stone immediately begins striking his dagger against the flint, sparks flying. Fox and Clay are shuddering with cold, and the chatter of their teeth is quite audible, for though it's warm enough right next to a fire, and even though the wind is mostly blocked from us, the temperature has dropped dramatically, and I'm growing cold again by the time the fire is roaring.
I warm up again, and then wander off a little, finding a little stunted bush growing out of a crevice in the stone. It's small, but it's wood, and anything else useful has already been taken by the others.
When I get back to the camp, throwing the entire bush on the fire, Clay is sitting on the ground, looking wide eyed at Stone, who appears to be speaking. Fox and his sled have been pulled over closer to the blaze, and his breathing is slightly calmer than before.
I see the small boulder sitting empty, next to Stone's occupied one, and I take my seat. Stone is in the middle of an epic tale, which I seem to arrive in at the very end.
"And then the great Beast reared on it's hind legs, the ground shaking beneath it, and charged Ash," He says, before realizing I'm right there. He stops and looks at me, and I wave my hand.
"Go on."
"So I ran right up to the ugly thing, and grabbed it's tail, pulling it out of the crevice, all the way out into the opening." He says. He's recounting our encounter with the Beast on the way to his grandfathers. And I can only hope accurately.
"Does Ash live?" Clay leans forward on his knees, eyes wide, red ears perked forward. Stone glances at me, and then shakes his head.
"No," He begins in a theatrically deep voice, "I was too late. By the time I got there, it had already eaten the poor girl..." He finishes dramatically. I turn and glare at him, then punch him in the arm, none too softly.
"I'm Ash." I say flatly to the kid, who looks put out. Great. Knowing Stone, I'm probably the wicked queen in his version of the story.
"Do you have any other stories?" Clay presses, staring unblinkingly at Stone like he was a god, and the boy a worshipper. Please.
"First," I slap my hand over Stone's mouth as he begins to speak. "Let's have dinner. I'm hungry." I crawl over to Stone's pack, pulling the string and opening up the bag.
"Let's see... Bread..." I pull out a hard wheat loaf. "Apples," Five crisp red fruits roll onto the ground, beaded with moisture now that the fire unthawed them. "Some more bread, grain, and a couple carrots." I finish, dumping it all onto the ground. I'm finding it hard to imagine how Stone's pack contained all of that, but then again, this is Stone's pack.
"And that has to last us for two weeks." Stone adds morosely, looking longingly at it all.
"Yeah... I say we each have an apple, while they're fresh." I love the crimson fruit, and I'm about to sink my teeth into the biggest one, when Stone catches my arm.
"No, half an apple each, leaving two apples for tomorrow." He says firmly, and I groan, setting it back down. The journey, and the limited supply of food, means that we'll be on rations for the entire hike. I know we'll have to walk the line between starvation and hunger to survive the trip, though, so he's right. Better to eat small helpings that keep you alive, than fill up on everything, and starve to death tomorrow.
Stone shows off with his swords for Clay, who's apparently decided to make Stone his idol. The small fox boy watches intensely, as Stone whirls his blades dramatically.
Finally, after a flashy show of killing off the invisible demons which apparently surround us all, he flicked the swords to the ground, slicing two apples into equal halves.
My hand flashes forward, picking the nearest half, and I greedily press the sweet flesh to my lips, letting the flavorous juice seep onto my tongue. I pull it away, studying it.
"This is a small half. Your chopping skills are off." I pretend to pout at Stone, who ignores me, grabbing his half. The three of us, me, him, and Clay, eat our minuscule supper, and then we turn to Fox with the remaining half. Oh, yeah-
"Hey, Clay, what's your Dad's name?" I ask, remembering I needed to stop calling him fox.
"Bow." He says, pronouncing it like the 'bow' in bow and arrow.
"So, how are we supposed to make him eat dinner when he won't open his eyes...?" Stone sums up our problem. I sit there for a moment, thinking. If only Pine were with us, with his magic healing serum stuff... If only we had a doctor... Duh!
I slap my forehead. "Of course! We're such idiots! The first thing we should have done when we got here was ask around for a doctor!" I say, angry at myself that we just stuck the dying man in the corner and went off to warm ourselves up and eat dinner.
"Ash, it was hard enough to get people to let us use their fire-" Stone begins to say, but I'm already running off, holding one of his swords, and the metal pan Pine had packed for us.
I run to the center of the mountainside 'campground', and skid to a halt. Then I bang the sword against the pan as hard as I can, resulting in a bong that shakes the stone beneath our feet. I hit it repeatedly, until I have everyone's attention. They all look very annoyed.
I didn't had much of a plan to begin with. That
s one problem with me- I get one crazy idea and go right ahead and put it into action before thinking about all the other problems it would open up. So I had no idea of what to say.
"Um, one of my friends is hurt, bad." I say unsurely, sounding and looking like a complete idiot. "He's dying. He got hurt in the riot, shot," I add, hoping that might gather some sympathy. "All I'm asking is that if anyone out there, anybody, has any medical experience at all, then please, step forward!" I finish pathetically. The wind is howling past the mountain, trees ruffling in the breeze far below. A baby cries out somewhere. Nobody steps forward.
My shoulders sag, and I turn away, heading back to the camp.
Stone is waiting not far from where I gave my little speech, and he steps forward and walks by my side, shrugging.
"It was a good try." He says empathetically, but I know he never expected it to work.
"Yeah, well, not good enough." I shrug. Suddenly tears come to my eyes, as a series of visions I've never witnessed flash past my eyes.
Fox-sorry, Bow, lying still and pale on a slab of stone, no longer breathing, his arms crossed over his chest, cold fingers cupped over a sword that was not his.
Clay, kneeling next to him, sobbing into his hands, alone and parentless, an orphan.
Clay again, this time as a young man. His right ear is torn, and he wears rugged chain mail and leather armor. He stands alone, holding a simple blade, on one side of an endless, overgrown field, the other end hidden by mist.
Slowly, dark shapes emerge from the fog- Servants of the Order, warriors of the City, in their flawless glass and white armor, with swords of tempered steel, an entire army, and facing off against them, the single warrior, who has sworn vengeance on the force that took his father.
The army charges, and I break away, somehow knowing who would loose the battle. These were images that might never happen, but they seemed very, very real, and I knew deep down that if we did nothing for Bow, they would become reality.
"Ash?" Stone's glancing at my worriedly. "You okay?"
"Sure." I say, which is the same answer I gave to Clay when he asked if his father would be okay. We both know it really means no.
"I know a little of the medicinal arts." A voice says behind us.