Faerling

Book 1, _Crystal_Mirrors_

Part XIII

It was nearing dark when Genna drifted back into consciousness. She sat up, trying to remember what had happened, why she was alone in the middle of a forest. She remembered the Lady DiLian casting a spell, then a terrible wrenching feeling. The sensation of the actual teleport had been like nothing she had ever felt before. It was as if she could feel nothing around her, see nothing, hear nothing. The only sensation she got was the feeling of Gil's hand on her left and Alec on the right. Wrinkling her nose, Genna thought hard, trying to remember the end of the spell. She remembered another wrenching feeling, and then... she vaguely remembered Gil letting go of her hand, then a falling feeling, and then she was waking up here. She stood and looked around again, trying to find some sign of the others. Even if they had somehow become separated during the spell, surely it couldn't have placed them too far from each other.

It was approaching darkness, but that didn't bother Genna. After years of living alone in the woods she easily adapted to her situation. The howl of a wolf nearby bothered her slightly, but she hoped to find some sort of shelter before sleeping the night, and if she couldn't, she could always make her bed in the treetops. She had done that before, and awakened in the night to see hungry wolves nipping at her provisions on the ground below, leaving her thankful for her forethought in climbing the tree.

The forest was thick, and it seemed as if Genna had been placed in the center of it. Her fingers tightened around her staff as she walked and the howling moved closer to her. It seemed to be following her now, as if it stalked her. She wasn't certain she could fight off a pack of wolves, but it sounded like a lone wolf, and that she had a chance against. She walked onward, hoping to reach the edge of the trees.

A crashing sound came through the bushes to her right, and she whirled, staff in her hands, held out in front of her. With a harsh growl, a wolf leaped from the side. She sidestepped, falling back onto her knee, thrusting her staff upwards. The wolf's claw caught her arm, opening a fine line of blood down her forearm, making her feel slightly ill. Her staff caught the wolf in the stomach, sending it off-balance and giving herself enough time to regain her own footing.

Genna held the staff in front of her, circling slowly as she and the wolf eyed each other warily. The wolf's eyes glittered, and saliva dripped from the side of its mouth as it growled at Genna. She stabbed at, watching how it reacted to her attack. It grabbed at her staff with its teeth, snapping angrily when it missed.

Genna was caught off-guard when the wolf finally stopped circling and leaped at her. She dove to her right, rolling when she hit the ground with a thud that jarred her shoulder. It was the same arm the wolf had hit with its claw, and now it ached so much she could hardly grasp the staff. She scuttled backwards on the ground, the wolf advancing again. It rushed at her, and she rolled left, his teeth catching her ankle. She poked at its face with her staff, trying to catch its eye or injure it enough so it would let go. Its teeth *hurt* and she could feel the blood running down her leg as the wolf tried to pull her forward.

She was beating the wolf over the head with her staff and trying to pull her leg from its teeth when a dark shape descended onto the back of the wolf. There was an angry hiss from the shape, and the wolf let go to challenge this new threat. Genna rolled backwards into the bushes, dropping her staff in her haste, and hid to watch the outcome of the battle.

A black panther circled the wolf, hissing and growling. Now that she wasn't as panicked, Genna could see that she *had* injured the wolf, and that its desperate hunger had kept it after her. The wolf was little more than skin and bones, and it didn't take long for the panther to dispatch it. Genna stood slowly and moved cautiously out of the bushes.

The panther stood over the dead wolf, glaring at Genna, growling with its teeth bared. Genna knelt slowly, never taking her eyes off the panther, and pulled her staff towards her with her healthy hand. As she stood again, the panther, no longer growling, backed away from the dead wolf. Genna stood still, stiff and wary of the panther's strange behavior.

The panther lowered its head and pushed at the corpse, nudging it towards Genna. Genna stared at it, confused. The panther looked up at her again, its eyes catching hers with a strange light, and then lowered its head and nudged the corpse a little further in Genna's direction.

Genna took a hesitant step towards the wolf. When the panther didn't move, she walked more confidently towards the corpse, when she reached it bending down to slice a chunk of what little meat there was from the side. Grasping the raw meat in her hands, she returned to her side of the clearing, sitting down to skin the bit she held. The panther, now ignoring her, tore into its meal with relish.

Now that it no longer watched her, Genna felt a little more comfortable while she hastily built a fire and skinned her meat so she could prepare her dinner. She hadn't realized how hungry she was, but the smell of the cooking meat made her mouth water and stomach grumble.

As she ate, she heard a hiss from the other side of the clearing. She glanced up to see the panther glance at her once before moving swiftly into the woods until it faded from view. There was still some meat left, and Genna quickly skinned and cooked that as well, eating the meat while it burned her fingers. She knew from experience not to waste food, for who knew when she would find it again so easily.

Once the terror and hunger wore off, she remembered her injury, and checked her arm. The numbness that had set in after she had hit her shoulder had worn off, and the scratch on her forearm had stopped bleeding. Altogether, it did not appear that she was terribly injured. She washed the cut as best she could with the small amount of water she carried in her pack, and planned to search for a stream in the morning. She could survive being thirsty until then.

Her leg was a different matter. The teeth marks were large and angry looking, and very painful when Genna tried to put her full weight upon that leg. She tore the bottom of her tunic into strips, making a mental note to find new clothes soon for this tunic was losing pieces at an alarming rate, and wrapped her leg tightly in the makeshift bandage. It still would hurt, but she would have to try to ignore the pain until she could find a village with someone with healing knowledge.

She placed her pack on her back and searched quickly for a tree with wide enough branches to sleep upon but low enough branches for her to climb, and finding one, settled in for the night.

When Genna awoke the next morning and glanced down, she saw catlike footprints around the base of her tree. Leaning up against the trunk of the tree were a rabbit and some sort of woodland bird, both freshly killed. Genna's stomach growled at the sight and she climbed down the tree as fast as her aching leg would allow. As she breakfasted, she planned for the day.

With her leg aching as much as it did, she knew she couldn't walk too far. And she didn't yet know how long she could fly, either, for she hadn't tested the endurance of her wings. She did know that her shoulders tired somewhat after a while, but she wasn't sure how far she could push herself. But perhaps, with a mixture of walking and flight, she could find her way through these woods.

Breakfast done, she pulled herself to her feet, leaning heavily upon her staff, and took a few experimental steps. Every step she made with her right foot sent slivers of pain through her, and after only a few feet she had to stop. Sitting down against a tree, she carefully undid the bandages.

She felt ill at the sight of her ankle. She washed away the dried blood with her remaining water, but the sight didn't improve. The wolf's teeth had torn her ankle severely, and the skin around the wound was red and puffy. Genna tore a few more strips from her tunic, shivering in the cool air, and wrapped her ankle again. After struggling to her feet, she gritted her teeth against the pain and concentrated on rising into the air.

After a few minutes of flying, the pain in her ankle began to subside somewhat, enough so she could concentrate more easily on her direction and plans for leaving the woods. As she flew she heard the sounds of animals around her, and she kept a careful ear out for anything that sounded large and hungry. She knew better than to tangle with another wolf, and planned to simply fly as high into the treetops as she could should another come after her.

She heard the crack of a branch being stepped on to her right and froze, hands clutching the staff, eyes darting nervously to her right. She couldn't see anything at first, but then she caught a glimpse of a hazy shape, large, moving through the bushes. She waited, but it moved on ahead, apparently not interested in her in the least. Sighing in relief, she continued on.

It was nearing dusk again by the time Genna reached the forest's edge. She had found water along the way, but no more to eat. And after a day of mixed flying and walking, both her shoulders and leg ached so much she could hardly think. From the edge of the forest she could see that she was in a valley, nestled between snow-peaked mountains, and that there was a small village not too far off. However, she decided to sleep the night at the edge of the forest instead, not entirely certain she could make it the village by nightfall, and not wishing to be caught on open plains in the dark in her condition. She found a low tree and painfully climbed it, again settling in for the night. As she listened to the sounds of the woods, she slowly dropped off to sleep, arms wrapped tight about her body as she shivered in the cool valley air.

To be continued...

Faerling is copyrighted by Deb Atwood.

Copies may be kept for personal use but may not be redistributed without the expression permission of the author.

Tryslora Eloran (deb_atwood@fac.com)