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She returns with different plants, thyme, sage, goldenseal, hyssop, and angelica. I learn a lot about their various uses. Goldenseal can be a laxative, hyssop is excellent for wet coughs, and angelica is helpful for bronchitis. Mostly, what I learn is how intelligent she is.
I’m great with hunting, fighting, and protecting others, and I can handle anything before or during a battle proudly on my own. I’ve never thought much about what to do after you get hurt in a war. Typically, I just take someone or myself to the healer in the compound and let them handle it. If I had her knowledge, I could have previously helped numerous others in the field.
I begin to appreciate her more. She has skills and talents I’ve never considered valuable. I start thinking I might have been too hard on her. She can handle herself better than I thought.
As I’m beginning to soften toward her, she darts off farther than usual to collect an herb. She’s gone too far for me to hold back and look at our surroundings this time. I dash after her and watch her step across stones on the river.
“Slow down!” I call out after her.
“I have to get this one; I’ll be right back!”
I groan and walk across the stone steps. The calm river makes this less intimidating, but she doesn’t know what else is in these woods, and I can never seem to get her to listen to me.
I reach the other side of the river and find her kneeling and taking stems from another plant. I sigh as I approach her and put my hands on my hips as I look around.
“I know,” she says mockingly as she stands. “But this is Motherwort; I’ve tried to find it everywhere, but it never seems to grow around here.”
I’m about to respond firmly when a beat breaks my attention. I look in the direction of the sound again and recognize it as a drum being beaten. I look at her with confusion.
“What is that?” she asks, sharing my concern.
“It sounds like….”
My voice trails off as I hear chanting in rhythm with the instrument. I stand in front of her, unsure how far the sound is from us. As I try to pinpoint the distance, she brushes past me and begins running straight for the noise.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” I whisper under my breath. “No sense of awareness! None!” I say to myself as I run after her.
12
DANA
Irun toward the sound, needing to know what’s going on. My mother always told me curiosity kills the cat, but this sounds too odd to ignore. Knowing Hurian, he’ll want us to return to the house immediately, and I won’t stop wondering what this is if we go back now.
The chanting and drums get louder and faster as I approach. It sounds like over ten voices are chanting, which is surprising since we’re in the middle of nowhere. I wonder if they reside around here and could help us get back home.
I push through the bushes and trees until I see a clearing through the large trunks. A group of humans is standing in a circle with a large skull in the middle. I can’t tell what type of skull it is, but it’s large enough to send shivers down my spine.
I open my mouth hopefully, about to yell for them to help us find our way back, before I feel a hand cover my mouth and pull me close to a warm body. I look up and see Hurian holding me tightly against him as he leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Don’t yell.”
I point at them and look back at him as he slowly takes his hand off my mouth. He shakes his head, not taking his eyes off the humans.
“No,” he continues lowly. “They’re dangerous.”
Dangerous?I think as I look back at them. They’re humans; he’s an orc, and he could kill them in seconds. I don’t know why he would be afraid of them until the circle parts, and I see what they’re doing.
I see one of the men wearing a fur headdress lean down near the skull. A skinny woman is brought to the center to join the man, and other group members lie her down in front of the skull. I watch curiously, partially intrigued but also fearful. My gut begins to twinge, and I wonder what’s about to happen as I watch intently.
The man in the headdress stands up, throwing his arms out to the side and yelling as the drums beat faster and the chanting quickens. I flinch and back up against Hurian’s body. He grabs my arms, and I look up, noticing he still hasn’t taken his eyes off the ritual.
I look back, feeling my heart rate quicken as the man in the headdress looks at the woman on the ground with deranged eyes. The woman says something, but I can’t make out the words from the loudness of the drums. Her tone sounds pleading, almost begging, as she lies still on the ground.
The man in the headdress holds up a dagger with both hands above his head and looks at it like it will bring him eternal life. He chants something, and his arms begin to shake. I notice the veins in his arms almost popping out as he speaks to the object.
He swings down sharply and cuts the woman’s chest open. Hurian covers my mouth. I’m unsure whether I was about to scream or gasp, but he must have known I would do one of the two. Hurian’s other arm weaves across my waist, holding me tightly as we watch the ritual unfold.
I see the woman’s blood spill over the grass, seeping through each blade like a tiny creek. The man kneels by her as the chanting continues and cuts into her arms and legs, severing large veins and making her bleed more.
