Between The Crystals

Ch 23 Not a Bird

The village cliffs barely appeared before I stepped to the side and shook off the hands on my shoulders, immediately porting to where I'd left the first group on the plains. Two individuals were beside the crystal and the rest were visible in the distance, slowly making their way back.

Relief flooded through me. I'd been so worried that this group had come under siege that I'd come right here, leaving the other group to explain what had happened to Grant. I sat on a patch of flattened grass and idly plucked some stems. They were too stiff to be added to our mattresses. Maybe someone could soak them in a bucket of water to make into woven grass containers or something?

If the full carry nets slung over the shoulders of the returning people were any indication, they'd found better foraging away from the crystal. I gathered small bundles of the straw-like grass—a lousy contribution, but someone would use it—as the group slowly made their way back.

I really didn't want to take this group to the Guard Station since it would be solid proof that my porting ability was stronger than average. Not only was jealousy likely to rear its head, but I remembered how other villages had tried to bribe Roxanne into joining them and bothered her to the point where she even skipped going to a few gatherings. That was a headache I just didn't want to deal with.

With a sigh, I shook my head. I knew we had to go to the Guard Station, especially after what had happened to the last group. We couldn't risk not going.

The rolling plains gave this group an advantage since they'd see anything bigger than a fox well in advance. It wouldn't stop them from being chased, pinned, or killed, but at least the Saursunes couldn't sneak up right behind them unseen.

When I collected all the grass within arm's reach, I got to my feet to keep grabbing handfuls of the inedible stems. Some people loved making elaborate grass baskets and trinkets, but their supplies were limited since someone had to bring in the materials, and we were more preoccupied with gathering food.

A woman returned with several field-dressed rabbits and a small bucket. I glanced inside and wrinkled my nose at the partially sun-dried guts. A handful of flies buzzed around her.

I took my water skin off my belt. "Let's see what we can salvage in that bucket. The stuff right on top is likely cat food." And I had a certain cat in mind who'd love the treat.

We went through the bucket, keeping anything possibly edible, and setting anything partially dried or with fly eggs to the side. Other than the top layer, most of it was still in good enough shape to keep.

The bacteria buildup after half a day in a bucket didn't bear thinking about, but in the face of starvation, it could be added to a special soup pot that would alternate between boiling and simmering for well over a day. I was secretly relieved that porter rations never came from that pot. Most of the time, people had no side effects, but sometimes the toxins left behind by the bacteria made them sick.

I grabbed the handful of discarded offal. "I'll be right back. I'm trying to train a cat to bring me small animals."

"We'll be here," the woman commented in an amused tone.

I sent a grin her way as I reached for a crystalline spire and murmured, "Golden Oak Forest."

The paler greens of grass were replaced with the deeper shades of leaves. As the haze cleared, a handful of people waved at me.

"Got tired of chasing snakes already?" Mark teased me as he got up and came over.

I snorted. "And why aren't you over there?"

"We got tired of the bug bites." We chuckled at his rally, and he asked, "What brings you here?"

I held up the handful of intestines. "Trying to teach a cat a new trick."