It wasn’t easy without an alarm clock, but Peter was at the gate when the sun rose, and the guards hauled it open. Egbert, the guard he had met, stepped out of the shadows when the gate was fully open. They nodded and started walking. Peter had his staff and sword, Egbert a spear and what looked to be a short bow.
The terrain was much the same as everywhere Peter had been since arriving in town. That is, hilly, rocky, and mostly wild. It took an hour to reach the landslide, and nothing in that hour had caught Peter’s interest.
Something about the landslide seemed off to Peter, but he wasn’t a geologist. A section of the hillside hundreds of meters across had clearly moved, knocking down all the trees, and it looked as if it might have travelled a kilometer. If he hadn’t been told it was a landslide, Peter might have kept walking right out onto the unstable ground.
“Well, we found the landslide. What do you think, backtrack and take the other route, or bushwhack our way around the edge of the slide?”
“Bush whack?”
“Push through the wild growth, though usually it means cutting a new trail.”
“If we were only coming to check on the herder, that would be the better option, but we also had planned to see what mystery is waiting on the other trail.”
“Yeah, I was afraid of that. Maybe it’s still safer than climbing over rocks near a recent landslide.”
They walked a kilometer back down the trail to take a smaller, wilder fork. A trail that clearly wasn’t used to herd herbivores regularly. The further along they walked, the quieter the forest around them seemed to get.
Peter stopped to look at something shiny on the ground, finding a torn coin purse. “Well, I guess we can rule out robbers,” he said, gathering up the contents and showing Egbert.
Egbert took the purse from him and looked much closer than Peter had. “I agree.”
It wasn’t long before they found more strange sights, like arrows lodged in trees, a shredded cloak dangling from a bush, and a single boot with a hole through it. Things that could likely be found along any wilderness trail, but too many for such a short stretch.
“Something ahead has been scaring folk enough they run back toward town, sometimes trying to stick it with arrows. It is likely unwise for both of us to be on the trail,” Egbert said slowly and quietly.
“Are you proposing I continue as bait?”
“No, I had considered being bait, but I think it better if we split up and leave the trail entirely. You go to the left, I go to the right, and circle wide.”
“Split up? Wouldn’t that reduce our chances of defending ourselves?”
“Maybe, but it might also increase the chances of one of us finding out what is going on here.”
Peter stared at Egbert for a minute, thinking, then shrugged and left the trail behind. A glance over his shoulder revealed that Egbert was already out of sight. It had been many years since Peter had gone on a true off-trail hike, and it showed. His clothes caught on branches with nearly every step. He was making as much noise as raccoons in a garbage can. Sometimes the only thing that kept him on his feet was the staff he carried.
What was worse than any of that, though, is that within a hundred feet he was so turned around he didn’t have a clue whether or not he was going in the right direction.
“You’re not very good at this, Peter,” a familiar voice said behind him, giggling.
“Hello Honeyhips. I suppose you’ve been watching me this whole time?”
“Of course, I told you I would be.”
“Do you know a safe way to reach the pasture?”
“I’m not from here, I don’t know where it is.”
“Right. You wouldn’t know why this area isn’t safe, either?”
“Oh, there are many reasons for that. You don’t have to worry about most of them, though.”
“Because I’m human?”
“I guess, but I was going to say it was because you were so big.”
“Whales are much bigger, but humans regularly killed them.”
“If you’re going to keep going that way, you should stop and listen to me.”
Peter hadn’t had a problem ignoring her other times, but right then Honeyhips sounded genuinely worried. He stopped fighting his way through the bushes and sat on a rock.
“Take slow, deep breaths. Pause and listen to the world around you. Slip between obstacles, don’t try to fight them. Like a tree bending in the wind. Each step is its own journey.”
“You don’t like how I walk in the woods?”
“It’s amusing, usually, but around here you can attract the sort of attention I won’t find amusing.”
“What did you say, again?” Peter stood and stretched, listening to her repeat her mantra. Focusing on it, he started moving and managed several steps without being hindered by the undergrowth. He didn’t make nearly as much noise, either.
“Very good! Well, not really, but a lot better than earlier. You’re learning fast. Now you’re going to go that way,” she pointed, then turned him, “pay attention to the shadows of the trees. You want them to be pointing in the same direction. If they aren’t, you’ve turned away.”
“Thank you for the lesson, I think, but you make it sound like you’re leaving.”
There was no response, and Peter turned – without moving his feet – to find nobody behind him. Shaking his head, he took his deep breath and started repeating the Honeyhips mantra in his head. The more steps he took, the easier it seemed. He lost track of time.
When Peter stepped past a large tree to see a cat looking at him from a sunny rock, he nearly stumbled. He had never imagined that a lynx the size of a grizzly bear could exist, but one was stretched out, enjoying the sun.
“Sorry for the intrusion, I won’t be bothering you,” he said, quietly, more to himself than the animal. It just watched him as he crossed through the small clearing and pushed into the bushes once more.
Shouting in the distance broke Peter’s concentration, and he turned just in time to see the cat bounding through the forest in near silence. There were several voices, but he was pretty sure one was Egbert. He followed the cat.
Honeyhips’ lesson seemed to transfer to running, too, and didn’t require nearly as much concentration as he had been giving it. Unfortunately, Peter wasn’t nearly as fast as a cat, even one so large. What he knew about cats said that they would only run at these speeds when chasing prey, which didn’t fit. Something fishy was going on.
Peter was not prepared for the pure chaos he found himself in the middle of when he nearly ran off a literal cliff. He skidded to a stop, grabbing tree, and looked at the drop inches from his toes. Nearly twenty feet down, so not a huge cliff, but definitely fatal. A group of naked and hairy little men with pointy sticks were herding a human toward the bottom of the cliff. Egbert and several other men were attacking the group from behind, and the big cat was looking back and forth as if wondering what the threat was.
A blow from behind knocked Peter over the edge, but he was still holding tight to the tree. It bent under his weight, he slid down – or up – the tree, until something snapped, and he was falling. The tree had torn his hands but lowered him far enough that his landing only caused his knees to buckle.
In the time it took for Peter to catch his breath and stand back up, the smaller men had all turned from their captive to take on Egbert and company. Peter hurried to cut the crude ropes binding the captive’s wrists, only to freeze when he saw a second massive cat out of the corner of his eye.
No, not just the two massive cats. There were three smaller ones, too. Still the size of a Labrador Retriever, but smaller. Kittens?
Peter slowly pulled his belt knife and freed the man, who screamed and ran away from the cats. Amazingly, they didn’t give in to the usual impulse to chase. Putting his knife back, Peter took his staff and turned toward the naked men, swinging to knock their legs out from under them.
Belatedly, Peter realized something that should have been obvious. There were more of the little buggers. A lot more. They had shoved him off the cliff. And now dozens more were rallying against Peter and Egbert, as the others had retreated.
The two adult grizzly-lynx let out loud, howling meows, which in other circumstances Peter would have found hilarious. In that moment, though, it was terrifying. Especially since they proceeded to attack, and it wasn’t clear whether they would differentiate between the primitives and Peter.
The swarm scattered, leaving their wounded, and Peter and Egbert found themselves alone with some very angry and very large cats.
Large cats who sat and started purring, ignoring them.
“I think we should count our blessings and get out of here,” Egbert said.
“Probably a good idea. Those others, are they safe?”
“If they find themselves back on the trail, yes. I don’t know which way they ran, though.”
“Should we go after them?”
“I don’t see that being a productive endeavor. Also, we have a herder to check on, don’t we?”
“Yes. I’m a bit disoriented, though, so I hope you know the way.”
“More or less.” They walked in silence for a few minutes. “Your walking has improved significantly since we parted.”
“It took a bit to remember how to walk where there is no path. Came back eventually. Knees hurt something awful right now, though.”
“You made quite the entrance.”
“I heard you yelling, and saw that big lynx charging in your direction, so I followed it. I managed to stop in time only for some of those little buggers to knock me off.”
“I had no idea such a large tribe had moved in this close to town. It will take an organized force to move them.”
“Move them?”
“We aren’t going to exterminate them.”
“Oh, of course not. I just … they seemed intelligent. Couldn’t they be negotiated with?”
“To be honest, if they hadn’t been sacrificing townsfolk to the cats, I wouldn’t even report their presence. Some things can’t be tolerated, though.”
“Human sacrifice is a line most cultures agree not to cross.”
“Most?”
“Things were different in more primitive times.”
“I suppose.
They were finally back on the trail, and an hour more of walking saw them at a fenced off pasture. Skulls decorated the fence posts, many of which likely belonged to the little buggers they had just escaped.
Something exploded inches from Peter’s head, and a voice called out “don’t even think about it!” To Peter, the voice sounded weak, as if the speaker were pretending to be powerful despite injury or illness.
“Easy, lad, we told your father we would check on you.”
“Egbert?”
“Nelson?”
“Come on in. I haven’t slept much and ran out of food yesterday. Lucky I didn’t kill your friend, I’m not sure I can aim like normal.”
“We’ve got some food for you, at least. We’ve got worse news than the bugbears that’ve moved in, though. Two dire lynxes, with cubs, in a cave not far from here.”
“Is that what I’ve been hearing? We’ve got to find a way to get the herd back to town, then.”
“They’re well fed for now. You eat and get some rest, I’ll keep watch. Peter here will see if there is a way around the slide.”
“If you’re sure,” Nelson said, shoving a block of cheese in his mouth. The teenager looked as if he could lay down and sleep for days.
At a shooing motion from Egbert, Peter nodded and followed the trail back toward town.
It didn’t surprise him at all when Honeyhips appeared yet again.
“That was foolish of you. Bugbears are annoying, but a dire lynx is something special.”
“You sent me toward him on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Maybe. His only interest in that fight was to protect his young.”
“I figured. The combination was confusing, causing the situation to be more frightening than it really was, I think.”
“Bently is watching over the herder. What are you trying to do out here?”
“We need to get the herd past this landslide,” Peter gestured to the freshly turned ground stretching conveniently in front of them.
“Looks easy enough to cross.”
“No warnings about dragons?”
“None in the area.”
“The problem is that it can take years for the ground to settle enough to be safe. You can sink in or trigger another slide if you try to walk on that ground.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
“Whack some bushes,” Peter said, drawing his sword. It was horribly abusive, but the blade had endured worse. Going up the hill was tough, but he managed. As he circled above, though, he caught a disturbing scent. Sulphur. He sheathed his sword and grimaced at his hands.
“You didn’t tell me you were hurt!” Honeyhips grabbed his hands, shocking him with her healing. “Where else?”
“I think that was it.” She glared at him. “Seriously. The rest of me feels normal.” Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t press the issue. “Smells like there is some volcanic activity nearby.”
“What?”
“I smell sulphur. Like farts and eggs. There aren’t a lot of natural causes, especially to be so concentrated in an open space like this.”
“What is volcanic?”
“When a hole in the ground opens up and spits out molten rock or boiling water. Sometimes it builds a mountain.”
“Lava? I’ve never seen lava!” In a blink Honeyhips was gone from his sight.
Sighing, Peter tried to follow the scent up hill. Sure enough, clouds of smoke puffed from a hole in the ground. He stumbled away, coughing, only to find another vent. What he had taken for an ancient mountain, like the Cape Breton Highlands, now looked like an active volcano.
Peter hurried on, marking a trail back down the other side of the landslide. He was exhausted by the time he made it back to the pasture, but he had done what he set out to do.