Grey Folk

Chapter 2

"I hope it's not about to sprout an army of orcs, or something," Emory said, eyeing the churning mud-pit. Instinct had a dagger in his fingers before he even considered what he might do with it, and he flipped it nervously from hand to hand. "That's the last thing we need."

"Nothing's come out of it that I've seen." Rita wrinkled her nose when some of the mud splattered over the edge of the dune and tumbled through the sand, forming a clod and rolling to rest. "It seems to function like normal mud, but it's... moving."

"Then it doesn't function like normal mud, does it?" Emory glanced down at her and straightened his shoulders. "Stand back, Rita."

"You don't have to tell me twice," she replied, scampering back to disappear over the dune, only her waving blonde hair and bright brown eyes peeking up over the edge.

Emory stepped forward over the trailing vines of the few remaining jasmine plants, then climbed up the next dune until he reached the mud pit. Now that he was closer he could hear the slow gurgling sound emerging from the center of the pit, and see the occasional spray of water spitting up from pockets of mud.

He crouched down and extended his fingers out over the mud pit, sensing for any heat. Instead it felt cool, and when he finally lowered his fingertips to touch the mud, it surged to greet his touch, spilling over his fingers like a slithering snake and sending a tingle up his arm.

"Is it the Raven Queen?" Rita called from behind the dune. "Trying to send a message?"

"Hard to say," Emory replied. The Queen's domain was far off in the dark plane of the Shadowfell, and her messages were often accompanied by a chill, but that tingle from the mud felt different than the sick dread filling his belly when he was forced to confront his goddess. A cool breeze stirred his cloak and he sniffed, smelling nothing but the salt air. "I don't think so."

"What are you going to do?"

Emory knew what she wanted. She wanted him to unleash his full power and fix everything back to how it was. He really didn't want to do that.

Every time he used that power, there would be a price. There was always a price. The Raven Queen weighed and counted and collected and measured every bit of magic in the Shadar-kel; if he fixed whatever this mess was, he'd end up sent across the world on some daring mission to steal a priceless artifact, risking everything to pay back the power he had used.

Still, it was his island. His responsibility. He bit his lip, unsure of how to proceed. Perhaps he could go to the mainland and hire a landscaper, fix it the mundane way. Repairs would be expensive, but--

Before he could complete the thought, the pit of mud exploded. Emory would have lost his footing if not for his natural agility, which sent him tumbling back and bouncing to his feet again, wiping the spray of mud away from his eyes in time to see a spout of water hurtling up into the air from the pit. The spout must have reached forty feet before it hesitated, curving in the air in serpentine movements, and crashed back down on itself, the pressure of the water carving out the sandy earth of the dune and sending another wave rushing over Emory, leaving him spluttering.

"Are you all right?" Rita yelled, voice pitched high with worry.

"Yes, all's... well..." Emory's voice faltered as he spotted something bobbing wildly in the pool of water that now filled the crater within the dune. "There's someone in there."

"What? Who is it? Are they alive?"

"I have no idea." Emory eyed the edges of the new pool cautiously, but the water seemed to be settling to lap at the edges, no longer mobile. Hastily he splashed into it, boots sinking into the sand at the pool's bottom, and forged his way across to the feminine figure floating in the waves. Her hair was a pale grey tangle in the water behind her and she was face down, her long grey dress sodden and tangled about her slender ankles. She looked like a naturally large woman, tall, with wide shoulders and hips, but her frame was nearly skeletal and the dress clung to her ribs in a way that made him uneasy.

Still, her safety came first. "Beg pardon, Miss, are you well?" he asked, though it was quite clear she was not. Without waiting for a response, he rolled her over and began dragging her towards shore, sending her body floating ahead, then scrambling back out and down to the softer vines, pulling her body with him. Thankfully she didn't weigh much, and he was able to get her laid out on her back without much trouble, going down hastily to check her breathing.

To his astonishment, a soft, warm puff of air greeted his ear when he hovered over her, and he pulled back to take another look. Sure enough, her chest still rose and fell in steady breaths, as if she had not been drowning after all.

Her face was still waxy and pale, lips almost grey, and her thick brows matched her hair in color. Now that he didn't fear for her life, Emory was able to study her features and noted with surprise that she was much younger than anticipated, at least in appearance. She could not be more than nineteen, surely, if she were a human.

"Is she... alive?" Rita asked, swinging her hooves over the edge of the dune and scrambling down, her face twisted in worry. "I wasn't expecting a castaway."

"Me neither. And yes, she seems to be... fine," Emory said, tilting his head to watch her emaciated chest, making sure she continued to breathe. "Miss? Hello?"

Rita arrived at their side and dropped to her knees, examining the woman for a long moment before reaching her arms out over the woman's body. There was a long line of pale fur that ran up from Rita's fingertips to her shoulder, and it began to give off a golden glow as she examined the woman, exuding her healing aura.

"Is it helping?" Emory asked, watching the still, pale face for any signs of returning color.

Rita was quiet for another moment before the glow faded, and she tilted her face up to Emory with a frown. "No. There's nothing wrong that I can feel. Perhaps she's just in shock and needs time."

"Perhaps..." Emory glanced at the pool. "I'm going to bring her back to Gloomshadow, I suppose. It's close enough, and we can wait for Rubius to get back. He'll know what to do with her." 

Rita nodded, sending another curious glance at the woman. "Very well, I'll be off to the village. I'll message in occasionally to check if you need anything, and I'll let Rubius know to head right over when he's back."

"Thank you, Rita, you're a prince among fauns," Emory said with a wink, before hoisting the body of the woman up over his shoulders, hunching down to get his full weight beneath her. "Off we go. This should be fun."

"Be careful with her. Something about that one," Rita said.

"Something?"

"Something familiar."

Interesting. Emory watched the small faun trot away for a moment before turning his attention back to the task at hand: carrying a woman very much taller than himself over a mile back to his mansion, and finding a place to put her where she would not be in the way.