“Fine, fine,” he said, turning away. “I’ll be back after it’s dark. No more than three hours, I think. Stay here.”
Korik nodded, already tense with nerves. Three hours seemed like an eternity to wait, yet hardly enough time to gather enough information to make a plan with any real chance of success. Though he had to admit that he had no experience with anything like this. Maybe all of Varen’s boasting wasn’t entirely baseless. Korik had to hope it was so.
He watched Varen cast the same spell to silence his steps—he would have to remember to ask the elf to show him how to do it—then he slipped away into the trees. After only a moment, Korik could no longer see him amidst the foliage.
What would he do if Varen didn’t come back? Bile rose in his throat at the thought. He would be alone in the wilderness, weeks away from his home. But Varen had been so confident. He would come back—hehadto.
Korik spent several minutes waiting in silence, hyper-focused on the sound of his heart thudding in his chest. He forced himself to breathe in a slow, steady rhythm. If he were panicking, his magic would only deplete faster—and he had been struggling to rest well enough to replenish his reserves, so he needed to be judicious. When his heart was beating at a normal pace again, he lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged with his hands spread wide against the earth.
For a moment he only sat there, feeling the thrum of life faintly pulsing against him. With his magic pressed just to the perimeters of his own awareness without leaving his body, he could feel the deep reserves of natural magic beneath the earth drawn to him like a magnet.
It was said the latent magic found within nature was powered by the countless souls of departed orcs from ages past, fighting endless battles impossibly deep beneath the surface, so their spirits might give back to the land that had sustained them in life. Often, the thought had made Korik unsettled, but now it comforted him: the possibility that his ancestors might have any awareness of his existence and could watch over him, so he was not completely alone here in the wilderness.
With a silent plea for protection, he slipped out of himself, suffusing through the soil around him and reaching outward in all directions—stretching up, up, until he snagged against another creature. A lone bird, too small to be a bird of prey, perhaps a finch or a cardinal; it was hard to tell without others of its kind nearby. It was simple for Korik to commandeer it, though, and he turned the little bird in swooping circles until he caught sight of his own body on the ground far below to orient himself. Then he darted in the direction Varen had gone, eyes scanning between the trees for any sign of the elf.
He could find no trace of Varen; he wasn’t sure if that was a relief or another worry. Instead, he turned the little bird in the direction of the orc camp again to scan its perimeter. Now he flew low, flitting between the trees, still looking for Varen as he closed in on the camp.
Finally, he perched in a tree near the camp’s outer perimeter and observed as best he could. Part of the camp was in a wide clearing, tents spaced far apart in a loose circle around a central campfire. Two orcs appeared to be preparing dinner, with several types of game skewered around the flames. Further back, he could see where the captured elves were being kept. After glancing around again for Varen unsuccessfully, he urged the little bird to leap from its tree and fly to the opposite end of the camp to get a better look.
No one seemed to notice the little bird flitting over the tents, finally landing on the tree where the elves had congregated. This close, he could now see that they were all bound at the wrist; some were lashed directly to the tree, while others were connected to other elves. Some were bound by chains, but most were tied only by rope.
He counted seven elves; Enriel was among them, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest and her back to the tree. Two other elves were beside her, both women, and they seemed to be conversing in low, whispered tones. She looked uninjured, which was a good sign.
He still didn’t see Varen anywhere. The little bird’s heart beat even faster in response to his irritation, so he tamped it down as best he could and sent the bird into flight once again. It had been long enough now that surely Varen had gotten close enough to observe the camp, hadn’t it?
On his third patrol around the camp, he caught sight of movement in the trees further away. Swooping toward it, he could tell it was Varen, and an unexpected relief flooded him. The elf had made it safely, and seemed completely undetected so far. He was perched in a thick tree, looking out toward the camp; its foliage kept him mostly camouflaged, but Korik had spotted his dark hair fluttering with the wind.
Despite the little bird’s apprehension, he darted over to Varen and landed on the branch he was crouched on, looking up at him with one eye. The elf blinked down at him silently for a beat, surprised, then chuckled.
“Is that you?” he asked in a low murmur. Korik tried to nod, but the bird only bobbed in confusion. “I suppose you can’t talk. I don’t know what I expected. If you’re Korik, come up here on my shoulder.”
Korik urged the little bird to do so, and with a flap of his wings, he was perched on Varen’s shoulder. The elf chuckled again.
“So far, so good,” he whispered. “It looks like there’s only ten orcs here at the most, and seven elves that I can see. The elves are being kept rather separate from the rest, and that tree is downhill a bit. I think we could sneak in during the night, arm whoever’s trained, and sneak everyone out. We might be able to overpower the orcs if it comes to it, though I don’t like the odds of that as much. If we approach from the north, we’ll have less chance of being spotted. I don’t think they have enough manpower to have a guard in every direction. They have someone standing watch near the elves, but that’s all I’ve noticed so far. Have you seen anything else that might help?”
He paused, then added, “Er... Chirp once for yes and two for no, I suppose.”
Two soft peeps came from the bird’s beak, and Varen sighed, nodding.
“I wouldn’t expect so,” he said. “Not like you could tell me, even if you had. Well, I’ve had no trouble getting here and don’t expect any getting back, so feel free to return whenever you want. I know you’re rather more vulnerable than I am like this.”
That was true, but something in Korik was hesitant to leave the other man. So he remained clinging to his shoulder, looking out toward the camp, though from this far he was sure that he couldn’t see as well as Varen could.
The elf’s eyes were constantly moving, though the rest of his body remained perfectly still—his lips occasionally moved slightly as he whispered to himself under his breath. Korik waited with him for several long moments where nothing at all seemed to happen, then Varen murmured a little louder,
“I’m getting down now. Hold on.” He leapt from the tree—Korik felt the wind lifting his little wings, toes curling tight to cling to Varen’s lapel—and landed silently in the grass, crouching low. The elf pulled a piece of parchment from one of his pockets and started marking it with a small charcoal stick that he pulled from a different pouch. “I’m making a map of the camp. If you want to do something useful for me, get an aerial view of the camp and let me know if this is accurate.”
If Korik could have rolled his eyes, he would have; but he acquiesced and released his grip on Varen. Wings flitting, he took to the air again and darted up until he could see the whole of the camp. It was difficult being so small, but he could see the overall shape of the camp and its broad structures.
When he returned, Varen was in the same spot. The elf turned the sketched map to Korik and asked, “Looks good?”
Korik inspected it, turning the little bird’s head from one side to the other, before trying to nod—his whole body bobbed, and Varen chuckled.
“I think that’s a yes,” he said, pocketing the parchment. “I’m going to head back soon. No need to accompany me. Keep yourself safe. I’ll find you.”
Korik regarded him for a moment longer, then released his hold on the bird. He could feel its suppressed fear and instinct to flee take over for just an instant, before he was in his own body again.
He blinked, shaking his head to clear away the disorientation. Once he could see clearly, he stood back up and turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning his surroundings for any sign of activity near him. Luckily, it seemed like he was still entirely alone. He sighed with relief before settling back down to wait for Varen to come back.
