Page 61 of Tusks & Saddles
Aiming again, Beatrix let off another shot, aiming toward the center of the plant’s center. The shot hit its mark, causing another eruption of sick yellow goo. However, unlike the first plant, this one shrunk in on itself. At first, Beatrix thought it may have been trying to protect its delicate core. She was caught off guard when the creature suddenly grew twice its size, expelling the sharp thistle barbs in a wide array.
Instinctively, Beatrix ducked, hitting the hard dirt beside her bedroll. Something had pierced her thigh. She let out a grunt at the same time she heard one of the horses cry once again. Beatrix knew that sound wasn’t good, confirmed but a second later when her thigh became incredibly hot. The flood ofsomethinghad entered her veins, and Beatrix felt her muscles growing weak where that heat traveled.
Poison. These things have poison, of course they do.
Ill prepared—Beatrix had been ill prepared forcarnivorous weedsof all things. Arcanists, bandits, snakes—fucking dragons—were all things Beatrixhadanticipated. That she had came prepared for, butfucking weeds—no, Gimdor hadn’t updated her on man-eating shrubbery! The same shrubbery that was closing in around them.
Beatrix had seconds to evaluate what was the better choice based on how quickly she felt the poison moving in her body. She could fire off the three shots left inBad Company,or take the time it would have taken her to fire off two shots, and pullGambler’s Luckout. The later would only work if the tumbleweed monsters were rounded up together, but she would need time—
“Hold on, Miss Eaves!”
Welborn yanked the symbol of the All Seer from his neck and raised it into the sky.
Chapter Thirteen
Welborn
The moment Miss Eaves fell, Welborn had felt something desperate in him snap.
Whether it was his fear for her safety or an intense desire to protect her, clarity on the matter was out of reach. But the moment she had fallen, Welborn was back in that unknown forest. He was staring up at the night sky, with only the light of Eluthka and Chandris to illuminate the hair on his mother’s head beside his own.
Not again,he thought, resolutely.Not. Again!
Welborn tore the holy symbol from his neck and raised it to the sky.
“All Seer! I could really use your help right about now!”
A prayer, a plea—the young cleric could only hold onto his faith in the moment. The divine energy within his hand was warm, a sign that the All Seer was there. But whether the deity would grant Welborn the magic he craved in the moment depended on if they could hear him now.
Please, All Seer! Please hear my prayer!
The desire, the wish, an intention—whatever it was that bonded Welborn to the god burst from his hand. The same divine fire that had manifested in his hand crackled and popped above his head. The heat was intense, but Welborn had felt a fire like this before, and knew he just needed to maintain his connection so a miracle could happen.
A burst of wind surged from his hand and that heat suddenly sparked as tiny motes of fiery light winked into existence around him. Welborn wasn’t sure what it was, but his faith in the All Seer kept his mind open to their will. The motes grew brighter, until Welborn realized what he was looking at.
Tiny, humanoid fey creatures were buzzing around him. Wings like humming birds, but made of fire, with glowing antennas—Welborn winced, eyes squinting as their light hurt to stare at for more than a moment. Still, he recognized their features all the same for what they were.
Fire pixies—specifically fire pixies from the plane of fire. The tiny creatures left a trail of smoke in their wake as they all darted off toward the tumbleweeds. As if they knew Welborn’s intent, the tiny pixies dove toward the tumbleweed monsters, bypassing the large roots and barbarous thistles. Laughter—so small, Welborn would have mistaken them for bells—rang out in the air as before his very eyes, the plant creatures began to shriek.
A spark became a flame, a flame became a fire, and soon the tumbleweeds were all screaming as they rolled away. The fire pixies did not take the retreat to heart, darting in and out of the tumbleweeds and burning as they went. Welborn kept his eyes on the rolling monsters, holding his hand aloft as he tried to keep the connection to the All Seer alive. Channeling the amount of divine magic he was already pushing his endurance, but Welborn refused to give up. Not when Miss Eaves needed him.
The swarm rewarded his faith, diving like the dolphins he’d seen off the Chroma Coast into the plant creatures interior. A loud, shrill cry, and suddenly they were dropping off one by one. Welborn didn’t lower his arm until the very last tumbleweed came to a stop, burning away the roots, thistles, and yellow gore away.
Miss Eaves!
As quickly as his arm had dropped, Welborn felt the connection to the All Seer become a narrow bit of string once more. Gone was the doorway and with it, the fire pixies winked out of existence, spiriting away to their home in the fire realm. Welborn would thank his god later, but his intention was to close the distance between himself and the fallen woman.
Welborn landed on his knees, hard. The pain would be of consequence later, as he hurriedly helped Miss Eaves to sit up. She was slow, sluggish, and blasted it all, Welborn couldn’t see what she looked like! He couldn’t tell from looking at her if she was okay or not. His fear was setting him on edge when he caught sight of the knot in her skirts. A large thorn had pierced her upper thigh and blood was soaking the material.
“Miss Eaves!”
“Poison,” she huffed. “It’s poison. Gotta get this out.”
“Okay—I—okay,” Welborn stumbled, hand reaching for the barb. “Do you—”
“Pull it out, for Ordia’s sake!” Miss Eaves snapped.
She didn’t have to tell him twice as the cleric took a steady hand to the thorn and yanked with all his might. The slide out was fast, but the noise Miss Eaves made was one of pain, despite her bravo.
