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“That is a mark left by a grizzly bear to denote his territory.”
“Well, good.”
“Good?” I blurt. “How is another predator in the area supposed to be good for us?”
She explained her plan, and I have to admit, it’s rather clever. It will require great risk, but it will be well worth it.
First, I have to track and kill the bear. This isn’t too hard, as I find its lair not far from the claw marks on the trees. The bear slumbered inside of a low cave. Only a fool would do battle with a fearsome creature in its own lair, so Paige and I built a fire to smoke it out.
When the bear emerged, I leapt from the cliff overhanging its cave. My axes bite deep, nearly severing its head clean from the great, humped, and furry shoulders. The bear fell to the ground without so much as a groan.
Then comes the grotesque, bloody work. We cut a line down the bear’s belly and then scoop out all of its organs and intestines. As I said, bloody work. Paige has worked hard to transform from a weak stomach over the blood, guts, and gaping wounds of our injured tribe into a surprisingly strong stomach. When I question her about it, she laughs.
“Oh, my grandpa taught me how to clean and skin animals when I was younger than Laney is now. This isn’t my first eviscerated animal carcass, and it probably won’t be the last.”
With a lot of effort, we managed to shove the rusted barrel into the grotesque cavity in the bear’s belly. Now comes the hard part, stitching it back together.
“This plan relies upon the tree being somewhat stupid,” I say at length as we finish up the stitching.
“Yes, it does, but keep in mind that the tree is magically altered to be a predator. All we’re doing is using its predation tactics against it. The irony of herbicide is that it seems like nutrients to the plants it kills. That’s how the chemical tricks their roots into drawing it up in the first place.”
“Really?”
“That’s what my grandpa said. We used natural herbicide on our tiny farm, that and a lot of time bent over in the sun weeding.”
I smile, glad to have such a resourceful human on my side. Again, my heart aches for her, but I remind myself this is not the time or the place.
But once the tree is dealt with, I swear I will speak to her about what is between us. Are we still only faking at being mates, or is there something real here? She seemed to reject the idea at first …
But then she did come looking for me, didn’t she? That gives me a renewed sense of hope. That and her clever plan.
The next phase is the most dangerous. I haul the bear carcass up onto my shoulders ... it is even heavier with the barrel of liquid within it ... and I carry it up the hill to the tree’s grove. Perhaps the tree is sated with so many bodies to feed on, or perhaps it hibernates after a fashion. All I know is I am left unbothered as I approach the grove.
I decided against getting any closer. Straining my muscles, I lifted the bear carcass overhead and then hurled it with all of my might. The bear flew a dozen feet and then slammed down on the hard ground ten feet from the tree trunk. I look up at the vine-mummified members of my tribe and shudder. I hope this works for their sake.
At first, nothing happens. I begin to curse under my breath. Then, a vine snakes out from the tree and wraps around the bear. Slowly, the vine winds the bear up toward the trunk. I smile with glee at the sight of vines penetrating the bear’s body.
The reddish vines change their hue, taking on a sickly green appearance. The line of green travels all the way up the vine until it reaches the trunk.
“Now what?” I ask her.
“Now, we wait and pray that this works.”
For several hours, nothing seems to happen, and I begin to think we may have to try building a fire after all, though that might burn down the entire forest if it gets out of control.
Then, one of the orcs falls from the tree and lands in a groaning heap. I take a step forward, then hold myself in check just in case this is just another trick by the tree.
Then, another of my kin fell, and then the deer and several other animals I had not been able to see higher in the branches. Even if the tree is not dead, it is at the least weakened.
I finally take the risk and move in, rolling my tracker over onto his back. He seems to be asleep, but at least he lives.
“I think your plan has worked,” I tell Paige.
“Great,” she says. “Only I didn’t plan for this next part. How are the two of us supposed to carry almost a score of orcs back to Shattered Rock?”
In response, I took her in my arms and kissed her hard and deep.
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