Page 7 of Aofie's Quest
The tip of my boot caught her in her stomach and she crumbled to the ground, a high-pitched whine coming from her lips. I kicked out again, and then—closing my eyes so I wouldn’t see my own violence—I kicked and kicked, letting out my fear and anger, beating her with my boots until silence consumed the cave.
My chest heaved with exhilaration and when I opened my eyes, the cave had been plunged into darkness. I listened hard for any sound, but my kicks had succeeded as intended. It had been a mistake for her to release my legs, a mistake she’d not soon forget. I hoped she wasn’t dead, only wounded, but I was afraid of what she’d do to me with my knives.
I tugged on the vines and they released me, for I’d guessed correctly. Since their mistress, Jezebel, lay unconscious, they could not hear her commands. I shuddered at her power, even as I fumbled on the floor, searching for my knives. I found one, and that was enough. She might wake while I searched for the other. A tiny light glimmered in the distance. Light I hoped was daylight. Snatching up my blade, I ran, legs burning as they came back to life.
My ankles stung and itched from where the vines had dug into them. Roots brushed my face, sending small pouches of dust and dirt into my face, like a last defiant act, for they were powerless to do more. Terrified she’d wake and catch me, I dashed on, blood pumping hard. The cave sloped down and the hard surfaces turned soft. My boots squelched through mud and occasionally I stepped on stones, flat and smooth from the constant rub of water.
The scent of smoked meat disappeared, replaced with the wet smell of mud, frogs, and water lilies. My brow furrowed. Was I close to the river again? If so, there would be no need for a guide. I’d just follow it and continue my quest after only a momentary setback. Still. Jezebel’s words rang in my head. She was right. I knew nothing about the laws and customs of humans. But there was something else terrifying about her. She’d claimed some called her a witch woman. I wondered if it was her kind whom my mother had gone to. If they tricked her into conceiving me, what did that make me? Who was my father? What kind of monster might he be?
I pushed away the hurt and betrayal that threatened to rise, for I needed a clear head for my adventure. I could ponder my beginnings once I reached relative safety. Quickly I whispered thanks to Druantia for delivering me from Jezebel. No sooner had I concluded my prayer, I burst out of the cave.
I slowed to catch my breath from my frantic flight. Before me rose a pond, round and shimmering in the orange hue of the sunset. I’d lost an entire day of travel. Night would come swiftly, and I was still too close to Jezebel’s lair. Up here, the air was cool with hints of frost, as if spring had never come. The grass was yellow and the pond stunk like a bog. Bright green lily pads covered its surface and thick bulrushes clustered around it. I kept my distance.
If Jezebel woke, she might make the bulrushes come after me and drag me back to that cave. She would not be kind after I’d kicked her into oblivion. If she was still alive, I’d made a powerful enemy. I closed my mind to the thought of kicking her soft, helpless body. I’d let fear overwhelm me and drive my actions. Surely, she would be better off dead, but it was not my place to take a life. Even while hunting, I had a hard time with the dead. It was the gods who gave life, and it was up to them to take it away. I was only a mortal. Human. I should not choose who lived and who died.
It was quiet by the pond, the water reflecting the fading light of the sky. A bullfrog lifted its deep baritone and splashed into the water, sending ripples across the smooth surface. It was beautiful, but also a reminder I needed to move before Jezebel found me. My eyes shifted back and forth, scanning my surroundings.
I stood high on an elevation. Behind me, a muddy rise dipped away into what I assumed was the Vale of Monsters. In front of me was the pond and to my right was a scattering of rocks and trees. Where was the river? My fingers fell to my pouch, which had survived the dragging through the forest, but I paused. I needed to find somewhere to hide before I consulted the map.
I patted myself down as I walked. My bedroll was lost, as was my quiver of arrows and, even more disappointing, my new bow. I was down to one knife but I still had my pack and the pouch tied around my waist. I had food for now and the ability to make a fire when needed. But my bow…how would I hunt? Trapping would take too long, and I needed to think of a solution before food went low. In the forest, it was always possible to forage for food, but it was spring and I was unsure which plants would provide a suitable alternative in the kingdom of men.
Circling the pond, I aimed for a sloping hill and a second sense made my ears tingle. Someone or something was watching me. The nagging sensation made me want to hide, but I clenched my fists, hoping my flares of magic wouldn’t give me away. Jezebel had called them a signal and I wondered if it were possible to control my magic so it wouldn’t give my location to potential enemies.
Leaving the pond behind, I crept around small bushes, puffed up and proud even though they barely stood a foot off the ground. I aimed for a small grove of trees, set back and sparse, but a good place to hide should there truly be something watching me. As I moved through the dead grass, a flash of brown appeared a few paces from me. It wasn’t grass but a trail. I glanced around but nothing moved. Needing no other encouragement, I moved to the trail and ran down it.
The sun slanted beyond the horizon as I traveled, my breath puffing out behind me like a white cloud. The air was cold once the sunshine was gone and I shivered. I needed to put on my cloak, consult the map, find water and a place to rest for the night. But I didn’t want to stop.
A bush wiggled in front of me and out from behind it stepped a boy. I took a sharp intake of breath and leapt back, almost tripping over my feet. My fright from my encounter with the witch woman was still fresh in my mind, causing me to yank out my knife and point it at him. “Who are you?” I demanded; my voice shrill in the cool night air.
He stared at me, blue eyes wide, his cheeks thin. A shaft of brown hair stuck out of his head. It was hard to see in the dimming light, but he wore a thin, brown burlap sack for clothes and his feet were bare. He eyed the knife and then pointed back where I came from. “I saw you.” He shrugged. “You came out of the cave. No one comes out of the cave once they go in. Did you defeat her?”
My shoulders slumped with relief and I tucked my knife back into my belt, moving closer to the boy. He could not have been more than ten years of age. “You know about her? The witch woman who calls herself Jezebel?”
He put a finger to his lips. “Don’t speak her name; we are still too close to the vale.”
I decided to take a chance. After all, what harm could come from trusting a child? “Will you show me the way out?”
His eyes darted to my belt.
I lifted my bare hands, showing him I no longer held any weapons. “I won’t hurt you.”
He nodded and fell in step beside me.
“My name is Aofie,” I told him. “I am looking for the river. What is your name?”
“Turek.” He puffed out his chest, proud of his name.
“Do you live out here? Where is your family?” I didn’t want to sound patronizing, but he was far too young to be wandering the woods on his own, especially after dark.
“In the vale’s village with my ma and pa.” He grinned. His teeth were yellow. I licked my own, wondering if they were square and white like the centaurs. “I came up here to look for the first fruits of spring: berries. But then I saw you leave the cave. You killed her, didn’t you? The witch woman?”
“I don’t know.” The breath left my body at the keen disappointment in his eyes. “She was unconscious when I left but if she wakes up and searches for me, I think she will be very angry. I have to get as far away as possible from her.”
“Come to the village,” Turek encouraged, reaching up to slip his hand in mine. He was quite friendly for a child and my heart warmed toward him. He was the first human child I’d met. Soon I’d be among my people, my own kind. “She never comes to the vale,” he continued. “You will be safe for a while.”
“What do you know of her? Why do you venture so close to her lair?”
“She makes us send a sacrifice, once a month. The adults don’t think I know about it, but I do.”
