Chasing Sparks

Chapter 13.1

Two days after the incident by the pool both Wren and Quizi were fully recovered and making good progress. Progress towards what, Wren wasn’t quite sure, but they were further east at least.

They had travelled quickly initially, thinking the remaining bandits might be on their tail but having seen or heard nothing for a while, their pace had slowed. Besides, Quizi couldn’t keep up with Wren for long. She could move quicker than anything over fifty paces but sustaining it was a problem.

Wren, however, had become restless at this slower pace. He was beginning to worry about the Seekers again but also simply missed running. Running was part of him. Something he needed. Something his body demanded. So he had started scouting ahead. He didn’t expect to find anything, he just wanted an excuse to run.

He was on one such scouting run, about a mile further down the track than Quizi, when he noticed the small tracks crossing the path. He had never seen a Kolle but had heard enough about them to know these were Kolle tracks, and quite a few. He guessed they were about a day old.

Wren could feel himself becoming curious. He wasn’t sure where this new curiosity was coming from but felt himself wanting to investigate the tracks, at least a little bit before Quizi caught up. So, feeling both inquisitive and apprehensive, he left the path.

His confidence had naturally grown since bonding with the spark and he also carried a decent weapon now, adding to his increased sense of security. He’d used one of the knives tucked into his belt, to sharpen the top of his staff to a decent point, so he felt it was officially a spear. He had been quite proud of his work and had said as much to Quizi.

She had just laughed at him and said, “It’s not a spear, it’s a pointy stick.”

Wren had thought they were one and the same. In fact, if you’d have asked Wren to define spear, he might have said a pointy stick. But, by the way Quizi laughed, she seemed to think there was a big difference between the two.

She had also added that the staff was better before because he was unlikely to stab himself in the foot then. She had thought this was very funny, too.

Wren knew it was possible for insults to be amusing, but he felt he should explain to the Barbarian, that just because it was an insult, didn’t automatically make it funny.

Also, Wren had yet to ask her why she was so tiny. All the stories he’d heard about Barbarians talked about them being giants. The way she talked and behaved was stereotypical Barbarian but she was barely five feet high. But the time hadn’t come to swap personal histories yet, so Wren just figured that, maybe, there were big Barbarians and small ones too.

She hadn’t even asked him where they were heading. She had just come along. All she seemed to do was periodically dart off somewhere and come back with a grin on her face and a rabbit or squirrel slung over her shoulder. Happy, it appeared, to just survive from day to day.

Pulling his spear, and it was a spear, free from the strap across his back, he walked cautiously forward following the Kolle footprints. He kept his eyes and senses open, knowing Kolle were not stupid and there may be scouts about.

He had been following them for only a few minutes when he started heading downhill. It was also a little more open in this part and he could see that the trail disappeared behind a group of trees off in the distance.

As he carefully made his way down the slope, a sixth sense or something similar, started telling him to stop. He heeded the strange sensation and moved quietly off the trail to the left and crouched behind a bush. He didn’t understand why he felt this sudden nervousness, but he listened to its warning nonetheless and just watched the open area ahead of him from his hiding place.