The Warden

Chapter 50

"Well, that was rather abrupt," observed General Biligrim, sluffing his pack from his shoulder.

Masis held his tongue. The wightie's departure could not have come soon enough for him.

"Indeed," said Master Elwith, slumping against a towering tree, its limbs twisting up into the canopy. "But then again, I think we're all a little tense, this close to our goal's completion. I'm sure she's just feeling the strain as much as any of us."

The tree supporting Master Elwith bulged outward, apparently malleable of a sudden, forming a small, smooth seat. The High Mage didn't hesitate to rest himself upon it. Adjusting, he leaned back contentedly and stowed his own small pack alongside his newly formed seat.

Masis and General Biligrim just stared.

"Bit extravagant, don't you think?" asked the general.

Master Elwith snuggled down into his newly formed seat. "Hardly."

"Well, then, a bit dangerous I say," said Masis, taking a defensive stance. "Especially, since Wilo hasn't risen and there might still be wighties about."

"Would you please refer to them correctly, Warden?" Master Elwith pulled a spicy strip of dried meat from his satchel and began gnawing on it. "They're feral wights. I find those other terms rather crass."

Masis cast his eyes about, keeping his voice low. "Whatever you want to call them, they still could be nearby."

"I highly doubt it," said the High Mage after a long pull from his waterskin. "I've observed that night wights usually disappear and reappear around exactly the same time, ergo, if Lady Telias disappeared, it stands to reason that the others did as well, feral or otherwise."

"You trust her far more than you should," muttered Masis, tossing his pack aside.

"And you trust everyone far less than you should," Master Elwith shot back. His expression softened. "Lord Domrae, we are both in similar situations. Our families... were taken from us in the most violent manner. But look how differently we handle our circumstances. I want justice for my family just as much as you do, but I do not let prejudice blind me. I'm accepting help from the one place I never thought it would come. I suggest you do the same."

"That's something I'll never be able to do," said Masis, turning away from the man. "Not entirely. I came for one reason. Only one. I'm going to kill the night queen. After that I don't care what happens to Lady Telias or the rest of her lot."

With that he jumped straight up, flowing into his wolvan form. Claws latching into a tree's bark, Masis launched himself to another tree. Barely touching it, he propelled himself to the next. Then the next. And another. Before he was entirely out of earshot, Master Elwith's voice chased after him.

"That only works so long, Domrae! You can only run until you've come back round to your problems again. They just don't go away!"

Masis shook away the words, losing himself in the sylvan acrobatics. He somersaulted and flipped, dancing between the trees, never fully resting on any trunk or limb for more than a second. At times, he would sprint along the branches sticky with sap, the foliage blurring passed in a swirl of greens. In the next instant, he would let himself plummet toward the ground only to catch himself on a branch and slingshot himself back into his lofty race.

The movement exhilarated through his blood, blotting out his murky, heavy thoughts. He poured on more speed as he outdistanced the ghostly, ghastly memories, their moaning wisps fading with every beat of his heart. If only he never had to slow down ever again.

Birds squawked at his passing, rising from their nest in utter terror. Squirrels chittered angrily after him as he roused them from their slumber. Wilo still hadn't crested the horizon, though his rays began to lighten the sky. This portion of Haimlant would remain in shadows for another five minutes before Wilo liberated it from the night.