Fiona || Freya

Wednesday, August 2

The group of nine rode north for several hours, laughing and chatting amongst each other, shouting over the thundering hooves of their steeds. Once they reached the foothills, Patrick’s group slowed.

“We gotta split here,” Patrick said, eyes on his map. “Our’s leads this way.” He gestured to a path not so much heading north, but eastward to a rockier area.

The group exchanged their farewells, good lucks, and be safes, before Patrick, Violet, and Bastien split off, riding out of sight. The remaining six broke for lunch shortly off the fork in the road, near a bubbling spring.

“How far before we split up?” Fiona asked Aaron, as the two reclined under a tree.

“I’m not sure.” He shot Jake a stare with a bit more venom than was probably healthy. "Jake’s latched onto that damn map and hardly lets anyone even look at it.”

She laughed. "Jake,” she called over, her tone singsongy. “Don’t hoard the map!”

He looked up from where he had been huddled over the parchment. “I know,” he said, wincing. “It’s just… I know where we’re going. More people inserting their opinions could confuse things.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows at this and turned back to Freya. “This is going to be a long few weeks.”

Fiona laughed and patted him on the head. Aaron sighed, but accepted the headscratches nonetheless.

---

The groups were together only a short while longer before Darren spoke up.

“We’re heading this way.” He nodded up a much steeper looking path. “Up there.”

Fiona looked around the area. “We’re not all that deep into the mountains, are you sure?”

Darren nodded, rolling his map up before addressing Aaron’s group. “Well, I suppose we’ll see you three. Either on our way back or at the castle.”

Fiona couldn’t exactly hug them from her position on the back of her horse, so she had to content herself with ruffling the boys’ hair, much to some’s displeasure.

“Ack, yes, we’ll see you around,” Jake said, cringing under her hand and steering his horse away.

Shawn and Sam exchanged awkward waves and Darren gave them a curt nod. Then Aaron’s ground continued on the more gradual incline and they were soon out of sight.

As Fiona’s group continued, Sam and Allyna fell back, allowing Darren to lead. Fiona took this as her cue to ride up alongside him.

“So I had been thinking,” she commented. “Exactly what type of a relationship do you suppose Darren and Freya are in?”

He gave her a sideways look, before giving her raising his bristly eyebrows, the beginnings of a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Well, you know-I don’t-I didn’t mean… Would you stop that,” she said, giving him a playful shove. “I just mean, you know, suppose they’re in a relationship.“

“And…” he prompted.

She blushed. He knew exactly what was on her mind. “And if they are what, you know, stage are they at? We only, like, date at camp, so everything has to be camp appropriate but they, you know. Don’t. They’re still teenagers, but seventeen might be plenty old for them. And I don’t know exactly what’s expected or appropriate or-stop looking at me like that!” She turned away, embarrassed and regretting bringing it up.

The smirk faded into a thoughtful expression as Darren relented. “You do bring up an interesting point, though - did every couple translate here? Even the counselors? Or, yikes, campers? What about all the stupid crushes everyone had? Buncha hormonal teenagers, that’s gotta be hell to translate into a super-serious world.”

“Um…” A voice broke in.

Fiona jumped and her horse nickered. “Goddamnit, Sam, don’t sneak up on us!”

Sam held her hands up, an apologetic grin on her face. “Sorry. I just think Allyna’s a bit nervous. I don’t know if it’s just the path or if there’s something else and she’s…” She trailed off, noticing the looks that Darren and Fiona were giving her. “Um-”

“Sam, sweetie, why don’t you ride ahead a bit. Allyna can tell you if there’s any problems, so why don’t you two be our scouts.”

Sam opened her mouth, before closing it. She tapped her heels on Allyna’s side, taking lead, but her head hung a bit low. Fiona watched her go, feeling guilty. She debated calling after her, but she could always apologize for being mean later.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, the group found a break in the thinning trees where the rocks leveled out a bit. The little plateau treated them to a breathtaking view of the mountains and forests. They were fairly high up now, but there were even more enormous mountains, towering further north. And out in the distance, just visible, were gleaming, bright marble cliffs, shining in the setting sun.

Darren pointed at the distant cliffs. “That’d be where we’re heading,” he said. His voice, while still calm, held a tremor of excitement. A smile flickered around his lips. “Should take us a few days.” He started to turn his horse out of the clearing, but Sam spoke up.

“Ummm.” She tossed a look from the smooth ground over to Fiona.

Fiona rode up to Darren. “Let’s just stop here. I mean, come on. Gorgeous clearing, flat ground, plenty of wood for a fire. We even passed a brook, like, five minutes back.”

Darren looked at the two girls, and for just a moment, Fiona thought the boy might whine at them to move on. Then his shoulders dropped. “It’s as good as any.”

Fiona collected water while Sam and Darren set up the tents. The skins were over half empty. They ran low so fast, she could only imagine how rough things would be for the desert group. Had they packed extra water? They must have. The uncomfortable idea that, in all reality, one of her friends could already be dead, made her wish they hadn’t left the castle. She caught a glimpse of her thoroughly miserable expression in the brook and shook off the shitty thoughts. Dwelling on unhappiness only made you unhappy. There was nothing she could do, so there was nothing to be gained from moping.

Forcing a smile to cheer herself up, she went back to their camp and busied her hands, starting up a small campfire, preparing for dinner, preparing for the next day…

…which started off with wet feet. Groaning, she sat up in bed as the heavy drumming of rain, thundering on the roof of the tent registered in her ears

“Aw crap,” she said. The interior of the tent was damp; Darren hadn’t closed it right after coming in from his break last night.

“Um, guys?” Sam’s voice outside the tent strained to be heard over the rain. “We really want to get a move on.”

“Yeah, hold up Sam. We’re just getting dressed.”

“Oh! Right. I won’t come in then. I’ll just… stand under a tree.”

Fiona pulled her vest over the thin garments she’d slept in and started lacing up her greaves. She stopped, noticing Darren was grinning at her, eyebrows raised again.

“Getting dressed?” he asked.

Fiona cursed under her breath. “Changed, Sam. We’re getting changed!”

“Huh?” Sam’s voice was further away now.

Darren was laughing now as he pulled his robe on.

Fiona shook her head, hiding a smile. “Nevermind,” she called. “We’ll be out in a second. Jesus Christ.”

---

The day continued to pour down, drab and grey. They three plodded through their endless muddy journey, woefully protected from the cold and rain. The further up they traveled, the shorter the trees and the more the wind picked up, sending shivers down Fiona’s spine.

Darren shook his head at the two girls. “It’s hardly cold at all,” he commented mildly. “A little rain and wind never hurt anyone. You should be glad it’s not snowing.”

“I-it’s s-summer,” Sam said, teeth chattering. “Shouldn’t be so cold.”

“It’s the mountains,” he pointed out. “Besides, we’ve had snow in the summer before. Fun stuff.”

“Quiet, dork,” Fiona muttered, pulling her jacket up to cover her face.

It wasn’t until later in the afternoon that the rain let up and the sun began to peer weakly through the thinning grey clouds. They led the horses to the banks of a small pond and shrugged off some soaking outter gear. The rocks around the pool blocked the wind a fair bit and the sun warmed their skin, if only a little. Fiona slipped off her soggy sandals and climbed over the stones by the edge of the pond to lay her jacket out on a sunny boulder. Large, smooth pebbles covered the rocky shore. It was a bit of a balancing trick to navigate it without falling over, but it was so nice to kick her shoes off.

Her bare toes were enjoying their freedom when they crushed a rock underneath them, coating her foot with slime. She looked down to see what she’d stepped in. Her skin crawled with goosebumps as she saw that it was not a rock after all, but rather a large egg.

“Oh no!” she cried. Clasping a hand over her mouth, she realized that many of the stones around her were also eggs. As grey and lumpy as they were, they blended in perfectly with the rocks. Without knowing what she was looking for, she never would have been able to find them, but she still felt gutted by her mistake. Eyes brimming with remorse, she began to hobble back to the others, watching her footing carefully.

Before she’d even reached them, a horrible noise, a mix between a howl and a hiss split through the air as the owners of the eggs emerged from the rocks around them. Five terrifying, snake-like monsters, half walking, half slithering, had cut off Fiona from the other CITs. Their eyes, flat against their reptilian heads, blazed with a fire recognizable across species. Fiona looked at their long, claw-like fingers, at the sharpened tips at the ends of their tails, which were longer than the length of their entire bodies. The smallest of them could look Fiona in the eye.

The other two CITs drew their weapons, hurrying to Fiona, but the nagas had surrounded her and were pressing in.

“You have killed one of our children.” The voice sent chills across Fiona’s skin. “Killed it, pure clumsiness, disregard for our lives, for our children.”

Fiona looked down at the slime on her foot and a hot wave of dizziness rushed over her. She saw enough solid mass in the goo to make her retch.

“We would not be easily forgiven were we to accidentally kill one of yours,” the largest hissed, moving closer to Fiona.

“I-I-I’m sorry!” Fiona’s voice broke, hysterical. “I’m so sorry, I don’t-I didn’t-it wasn’t- I-I’m sorry!”

The nagas were done listening. One of them lashed out with its tail, slashing across her arm, leaving a deep scrape. She stumbled backward, trying to catch her breath but her lungs were too full of stale air to let any more oxygen in. Another naga hissed, showing off needle-sharp fangs, several inches long, each poised to release a fatal toxin. Their unblinking eyes blazed with a lethal furor, blade sharp claws ready to strike, to tear their opponent limb from limb.

“Leave her alone!” Darren’s voice called away their attention for a moment. “Look. We can’t begin to understand your loss.” His voice was even, almost courteous, but his eyes were as deadly as any of the snakes’. “But you are dangerously mistaken if you think we’ll let you kill her as retribution.”

“If we can help at all,” Sam said, daggers brandished, “any way we can assist you, some form of protection or something, to prevent this from happening again. But we won’t let you hurt her.”

One of the nagas moved back, uncertain. He held his hands out in front of him. “Your quarrel is not with me. The child was not mine. Speak to your Order that rules these lands. The naga live here too.”

He began to retreat, but one of the others called at him. “Coward! You would let them get away with murder!”

“Our deaths would serve no greater purpose,” he retorted.

Their numbers were down to four, but the remaining ones looked even angrier, tails lashing side to side. “Let us take our retribution on this one, or all die,” one hissed, low and deadly. She had not spoken before, but her voice shook and broke.

By this time tears had begun to well up in Fiona's eyes. “Please, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to, I-”

Darren raised his staff. Sam’s eyes flicked over the nagas. They were ready to fight. The CITs had brought some general venom antidote, and it was looking like they’d need it. Fiona wondered if she’d be able to call on her healing powers when she needed them

“Don’t make another move.” There was nothing polite or negotiating about Darren's voice now. It was the most dangerous tone Fiona had ever heard him use. She had a moment, while they were distracted, to catch her breath and draw her sword, just as the four lunged. Her very first move was to block the slashing tail of one of them.

She took a few steps back. She had learned how to block attacks back at the castle, something Freya was apparently good at, but in actual combat, she was still woefully underprepared. And although a part of her was telling her that she deserved it, she couldn’t let that thought overcome her. She needed to focus on surviving.

Darren whipped his staff overhead, using it to block two lashing attacks before he shouted an incantation and blasted a naga back with a lightning flash and turned to face another. Sam backed out of her engagement, ducking to the downed naga and slashed across its torso. It snarled in pain and Fiona could see its flat eyes flare in panic. Before Sam could make another move towards it, it withdrew from the combat, hands raised defensively.

“Coward!” screamed the naga fighting Darren. In her distraction, he brought his staff down with a sickening crack on her head. The third naga, seeing one retreat and one down, also turned and fled.

The remaining snake, the female, turned to face Fiona, hissing with bloodlust. Fiona desperately parried her attacks, but they barely slowed the monster down. For every attack Fiona parried, one got through, and each slash and stab left her dizzy with pain. Everything was just moving too fast and within seconds Fiona had stumbled to a knee, sword hand shaking so much that it couldn’t hope to deflect another attack. Sensing weakness, the naga launched an attack, blinded with rage. Fiona didn’t have time to think and reacted on instinct, Freya’s instinct. She dodged, body moving without command, and raised her sword. The monster, stumbling after missing her attack, was vulnerable.

Fiona hesitated. For one moment, hardly a moment, she could not bring herself to kill the naga. Wasn’t Fiona at fault here?

The naga twisted away from her raised sword, moment of weakness gone. She turned on Fiona, her murderous hiss raking across Fiona’s ears and lunged. Every scar on Fiona’s arms screamed in pain but instead of raising her sword, she just put her hands up. She cringed away, teeth clenched and eyes closed, waiting for the pain she knew was coming.