Seven – 02

The energy tore at his jacket and magic-born wind blew his hair back from his face, stung his eyes.

Just like at Winterkill.  He swallowed bile at the memory and bent his head against the growing magical wind, the sting of the green sparks that were starting to spill from the wards.

“What the hell did they do?”  Thom asked, almost in his ear.

“Acted on instinct in the case of your wife if I’m anyone to guess,” Thordin said.  “You’ll need to cross the ward lines.  I’m not sure what will happen if I try to.”  They’re more than certainly keyed for him to be able to pass.  It’s me that I’m not so certain of.

“Right.”

Thom ducked past him and headed for the wall of light that seemed more solid than not.  Their friends on either side of the warding lines had begun cluster nearer to Phelan and Marin, many wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Keep a sharp eye on the ravine!”  Matt snapped from somewhere behind Thordin.  “There may be more coming.”

I doubt it, after what we all just saw, but it’s certainly not a bad precaution to take.

Thom swore as he touched the light-built wall of the ward lines, green sparks showering around his hand.  Then he grit his teeth and forced his way through, leading with one shoulder.  The faint smell of burnt hair and cloth drifted to Thordin and he winced.

If it did that to him, I’d hate to think what it would have done to me.  He eyed Marin’s back.  Then again, we’re not out of the woods yet, are we?

Before common sense could rear her fair head and stop him, Thordin seized Marin by the shoulders and hauled her backwards with every ounce of his strength.

•             •             •

The pain was incredible.

He couldn’t breathe.  Red-tinged darkness chewed like a hungry beast on the edges of his vision as his lungs spasmed, seemingly incapable of sucking air into his body.  Every nerve in his body fired in rhythm with each heartbeat, burning and freezing all at once, every muscle taut and knotted tight.

Then, abruptly, the pain vanished and he was falling, falling…

The ground rushed up to meet the back of his head all too quickly.  He blacked out for a moment, but when his eyes came open again, he was staring up at the winter-gray sky, eyes tearing, and he could breathe again.

The pain was back, though, but duller, a soreness through his whole body—except for his side, which felt like someone had shoved a sharp, hot poker from Matt’s forge deep into his flesh and left it there for a while.

Phelan sucked in a pair of breaths before he realized he was cold, bleeding, and laying on top of someone else.

“What the hell–?” he slurred, not realizing right away that he’d reverted to his native tongue and the words probably sounded like a mishmash of vowel sounds to his friends.  He blinked and tried to roll onto his side, off of whoever was beneath him, then froze as the pain in his side doubled.  He flopped back over again, moaning.

“Jay, give me a hand,” Thom said from beneath him.  Phelan cursed under his breath.

“What happened?” he managed to ask in English this time.

“We were hoping you could tell us, “ Thom said, grunting as he tried to carefully slide out from underneath Phelan.  J.T. hurried to help, lifting Phelan slightly to give Thom room to move.  Phelan hissed softly, hands flopping uselessly, though he was trying to touch his side.

“I feel like shit.”  His tongue felt swollen in his mouth.  Poisoned again?  Gods and monsters, I hope not.

Thom ignored the question as he managed to ease out from under the once-druid.  “Is she okay?”

Phelan just stared at him as J.T. eased him back down to the ground as gently as he could, then moved to examine whatever was stuck in his side and causing so much pain.  “Thom,” Phelan began, “what are you—”

“I think so,” Thordin said.  “Though I think I’m going to need some kind of ointment for my hands.  Otherwise, they’re going to blister.”

Marin.  Damnation, she–  “Cac!  Jameson…”

“Shut up and hold still,” J.T. said as Jacqueline joined him.  “The bugger lodged the head of this thing deep.”

“Well for the love of god, don’t just yank it out,” Jacqueline said as she dropped to her knees in the snow.  “You know better than that.”

“So we’re just going to carry him back to camp with a four-foot spear sticking out of his side?”

Phelan closed his eyes.  Bugger me sideways.  The fragments were starting to piece themselves together.  “Is she all right?” he rasped.  “One of you check on her.”

“I’m fine.”  Marin’s voice reached his ears dimly, barely audible over the roaring that started up in his ears.  “Head’s ringing and I’m shaky and I feel like I’ve been screaming for hours, but I’m fine.”

“Good.  Never do that again.” Phelan managed to say before he tumbled back into darkness.

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