The Raven's Chronicles. Rage of the Wraith

Chapter 24. The Tempest

"Hurry!" Ravin roared to outshout another thunder, his voice barely reaching Jules' ears. They stood beside him by the group of birches, with knives in their hands, shearing off their bark, desperate to gather firewood.

They had laid their cloaks on the ground under the trunks –they couldn't give them any protection against rain and cold anymore – and were throwing the white-brown flakes onto them.

Long, twiggy lightning cut the sky. The light was sharp and disappeared in half of the second. The clap which followed it was so loud that when the silence fell again Jules was sure he got deafened.

"How much more?!" he yelled. All the water hitting his face made him narrow his eyes and he could barely see the tree before him.

"Enough!" the hunter commanded. He bowed to gather the corners of the cloaks, making two big bundles filled with bark, and he threw them over his back. Holding them with one hand, he grasped his apprentice's elbow with the other, "Let's go!"

It was early afternoon, but the wood was as dark as in the dead of a moonless night. Only the lightning made it explode with light every now and then. The rumble of thunders shook the ground. The trees around were barely resisting the violent forces of nature.

There was only a faint, distant glow visible in the spurts of rain, eerie and ethereal like a friar's lantern - the rune Ravin had left in the entry of the cave they had chosen to hide in. It was large enough to contain them and the horses, and there were no bones.

When they stormed into the grot Jules tripped over a stack of branches. Trying to regain his balance, he leaned on the stone wall and ducked when he saw a dark shadow speeding in his direction. Another twig flew just by his head.

"Rogre?" Ravin roared, motioning at his apprentice to move aside.

The Captain emerged from the darkness, caring more sticks under his armpit.

"I hope they are less wet than... well, all the other," he muttered, trying to wipe the green needles which clung to his clothes. His hands and face were covered with shallow scratches, "I tried to get the lowest ones. Maybe we'll-"

Jules didn't hear the end of the sentence as another thunder drowned out the lord's voice. In the next second, he saw a web of lightning travelling through the sky. When it went out, he blinked several times, still seeing it reflection under his eyelids.

"Jules, take the bark," the hunter bowed to gather the firewood.

The boy grasped the bundles and dragged them deeper into the cave where the rain couldn't reach them. Ravin and the lord took the spruce's branches and followed him.

The cavern widened into a high- coped grot, long for about ten meters and wide for about fifteen. The horses were standing by the back wall, still saddled, as their riders had no time to take care of them by now. The Captain's chestnut mare was blindfolded; not able to see the flashes of lightning she was much calmer.

"Sorry it's taken so long," Jules muttered, approaching Opal and Grumbler. He patted his horse's neck and bowed to unbuckle the girth. The brown steed whickered and nipped the boy's thigh, "Ow! Bad horse!"

Grumbler whinnied with irritation. He met the boy's gaze with no sign of remorse. Jules rolled his eyes and unpinned all the sacks from his and Ravin's saddles to carry them to the middle of the grot where the men were spreading the bark and the branches on the stony ground. Then, he wiped both his steed and Opal dry, a bit envious of their comforts as his wet clothes clung to his body.

"Do you want me to build the fire?" he yelled over the storm. Ravin's silhouette was sharp in the flash of another lightning, while the man was searching through their luggage. A clap of thunder drowned out his words. "What did you say?"