Chasing Sparks

Chapter 11.1

The sun was beginning to come up as Wren soaked his top in the pool. He’d found the small pool near the hollow where he’d been hiding and was carefully collecting some water now. The water in the pool couldn’t have been more than waist deep but it was more than sufficient for what he needed.

As he quietly made his way back with the water, he noticed the wound in his side was already starting to heal. He would be fine. However, he could not say the same about the unconscious Caver woman. Since stopping, he had grown increasingly worried about the wound on her head. It was a deep purple colour and had swollen to the size of an egg. And it was getting worse. He suspected her skull was cracked underneath.

Back in the hide, he placed the wet top gently on the woman’s head and let some water drip from his fingers onto her lips. As Wren sat quietly trying to cool her fever, he noticed that despite her dishevelled and dirty appearance, she was actually quite beautiful. He could also still remember how brightly her big almond eyes had shone the night before.

Wren looked again at the wound on her head and felt her pulse. It was getting weaker. The beat of her heart was also very faint and Wren knew if he didn't do something soon, she would die.

He felt incredibly angry but what could he do? At that moment, the spark began to pulse more strongly within his body, as if responding to his emotions. Having an idea, Wren placed his middle and forefinger lightly on the woman’s head and began to channel the spark’s energy to his fingertips. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the energy to leave his fingers and enter the woman’s wound.

Wren sat there continuing to focus. He visualised the energy flowing out from his fingers and into the Caver, but nothing happened. Well, not quite nothing. Wren could feel the energy wanting to go to the wound but something was blocking it.

Getting more and more frustrated, Wren almost tried to physically force the healing energy into the woman but it just wouldn’t go. Exasperated, he turned his thoughts to the man whose fault this all was. The man who fell from the cliff. The man who had sent him here. And the man who’d spoilt his nice life in Gardens.

And how dare the Runner demand anything of him? ‘Find Finion’, he had said. Who cares about Finion? Wren just wanted his quiet little life back. His quiet little life, running quiet little errands. That’s all he wanted and with that, he picked up a stone and hurled it into the forest.

And, Wren thought, what was that other nonsense the man had said, unable to let go of his frustration. Some gibberish like, “Tach Soon Folo”, he huffed to himself.

But at that moment, his eyes widened with surprise. Something had happened.

Trembling slightly he put his hand back on the woman’s bruise and brought the energy to his fingertips like before, only this time he whispered, “Tach Soon Folo.”

As the words left his mouth, he felt the blockage dissolve away and his energy started to flow into the woman’s body. He focussed on stabilising the connection and just let the energy pour into her.

When the spark’s energy was nearly all depleted, Wren stopped and looked at the Caver. Her pale skin was a lot less pale and the lump on her head had gone. The bruise was still there but it was like an old bruise now. One that had been there for a few days and was on the mend. Wren felt for a pulse and was pleased to find it a lot stronger. He’d done it.

As Wren sat back feeling a lot better, the woman started to stir. Her eyes, opening slowly as she came round.

Wren smiled.

Suddenly, with no warning and with incredible speed, she leapt on Wren’s back, wrapped her arms around his neck and started choking him.

“You move, you die,” she whispered.

The smile was gone from Wren’s face.

He didn’t move. He was not sure he could if he wanted to. He definitely knew he couldn’t breathe as her forearm was cutting all the breath from his body.

As calmly as he could, he tapped her leg in a submissive gesture. Slowly, the pressure on his windpipe released enough for him to take a gulp of air.

“Talk slow,” a voice whispered in his ear, “Why’d you take me?”

Wren could feel her breath in his ear. “To help you,” he said slowly.

“Why?”

“I won’t hurt you,” Wren said slowly. “Please let me go.”

“No,” came the flat reply along with an increase of pressure on his windpipe. “Why?” She repeated.

When the pressure released again on his neck, Wren said honestly, “I thought you were a child. I couldn’t leave a child in a cage.”

As if remembering the night before, the girl changed tack. “How’d we get here?”

“Let me go,” Wren said as calmly as he could.

There was no reply for a few seconds. The Caver then unwrapped her arms from around his neck and moved to sit opposite him. It was more of a crouch than a sit and Wren was in no doubt she would be able to move quickly from that position, if she wanted. She had moved really quickly earlier. Unnaturally quick.

“You try anything. I’ll kill you,” she said staring right at Wren. She then felt the bruise on her head and turned to Wren. “How’d we escape?”

Wren shrugged, “I ran.”

“How’d I escape,” she corrected.

“I carried you.” Wren said, gesturing holding her over his shoulder.

“We should never have stopped, fool. He’ll catch us. We need to move quick,” her voice had a real edge to it.

Wren sighed. A thank you, or something similar, would have been nice.

But now she was conscious again, he found himself agreeing that maybe it would be better for them to be on the move. Wren was about to say so, but instead found himself jumping up and wheeling round a hundred and eighty degrees.

“Yes, my little dear,” a voice had just said, “You should never have stopped.”