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89. Preparations for a Dangerous Hunt
🕑 Added 2020-11-28 20:01:34 +0000 UTCAfter a lunch of grilled trout, the rest of the day was spent filling the glen’s larder. There were only two tendays and change left before the hunt for the King of the Forest, and I wanted to focus on preparing and not have to worry about our next meal.
I brought home blueberries, broad beans, greens, plums, acorns, walnuts, and onions. Along the way, I caught sight of a beautiful stag. His antlers were still developing, but he was fully grown and well-muscled. I picked up his trail after dropping off the groceries and stalked him for a good two miles before I found him resting in the shade of a pine tree.
My arrow carried a whiff of lightning, but the qi whispered away like smoke. Well, I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
I dressed the stag and dragged the body home on an improvised travois. A couple of hours later--to skin, butcher, and get the hide ready for tanning--I went out into the forest again to look for more game.
I also looked for signs of a lynx. Finding one for Yuki--to compare against the blynx--was on my To Do list. I did try asking the mother blynx before I left, but she raised her hackles at the thought of another lynx (or blynx) in her territory.
My second trip out, I came across a javelina who’d gotten separated from his squadron. The pelt would make for a nice hat, and I prepared it for tanning too.
The third trip resulted in a pheasant and an armful of yellow squash.
The fourth trip, near the end of the day, produced a pair of ducks. I shot one while it sat on the water, and the other just as it took flight. It was a level of archery I would never have been able to do in my old life, not without Dog’s Agility and all the time dedicated to practicing loading and nocking arrows without once letting my prey leave my sight.
It was an hour before sunset when I returned to the glen, which left just enough daylight to pluck the ducks and get them ready for the refrigerator. After that, my last task for the day was to get a fire started, and I pretty much collapsed after that, exhausted but pleased with the day’s efforts.
Dinner was too much work, so I threw some greens together for a salad and called it quits. Ikfael was happy enough to gnaw on raw fish, and the mother blynx ate from another hare she’d caught while I was away. There must be a warren nearby.
I frowned. I couldn’t keep calling her mother blynx. Somehow, it felt okay to name the kittens, but she was an adult and had her own mind, developed and complete. It didn’t feel right just assigning a name. I merged with Yuki to send our consciousness within her to directly ask her preferences.
We found her pleased with the arrangement so far. The wolves and the hellmouth were both predators from which she normally would’ve had to run. And, yes, there was a rabbit warren nearby, so there was game aplenty, even without Ollie/Eight to provide it.
When we considered her consciousness, the image evoked was of the sun sparkling on snow.
The name Yuki is already taken.
Depending on the way Yuki was spelled in Japanese, it could mean either happiness or snow. Our Yuki’s choice was happiness, but a possessiveness accompanied the name--there could be only one Yuki, even if the meanings were different. Ollie/Eight also preferred a different name, as two Yukis would be confusing.
We smiled in amusement at the antics of our component consciousnesses.
Then let her be Sun-on-Snow, we thought.
The concept resonated through the blynx’s mind and came the closest to describing her sense of self. We felt her approval.
“Sun-on-Snow. Snow for short.”
We shared the words, so that she became familiar with them. Normally, Yuki translated for her, but there may come a day when that portion of ourselves was needed elsewhere.
Snow quirked her head, listening. A feeling of acceptance radiated from her.
Within us, Ollie/Yuki/Eight also approved. With everyone satisfied, we separated, so that I could lean back to watch Ikfael re-tell the tale of the hellmouth’s death. It’d been a good day, and a good night followed it.
###
Yuki and I continued to work the dual problems presented by lightning qi and the Blink spell, but there was more to do besides. Even in my old life, there were never enough hours, so I split my day into the three chunks.
In the morning, when it was still cool, I practiced integrating my Skills. I’d already been training my fighting and magical arts together, but the focus now was on finding synergies between all my Skills, including Survival, Stealth, and Strategy. They all had teachers hidden within them, and I did my darndest to listen to them.
In the late morning and early afternoon, we explored the Blink spell and chased after lightning qi.
Then, in the evening, after my magical energies had recovered from the morning’s activities, I entered the forest to put my practice to the test. We didn’t need more game for the larder, so I looked for threats to the glen instead.
Surprisingly, Snow joined in throughout the day. She didn’t have my endurance, and had to frequently stop to rest and nap, but it quickly became clear that my practice was her play. A thrill of pleasure ran through her everytime she pounced or clawed the wooden block I set up as a target dummy. She got a similar dopamine hit every time she used the Blink spell.
That spirit of play was refreshing, and it kept the practices from turning into something burdensome. When she joined me in the forest, though, Snow was all business.
That’s how we found ourselves, three days later, spying on a rafter of sleeping batshu turkeys.
The night was quiet, disturbed only by the sounds of crickets in the distance. The turkeys slept within a shallow bowl surrounded on all sides by long grass and brambles. The only reason we spotted them was that the wind had shifted as we were passing by and brought their scent to us. Then, when we followed the scent, Yuki sensed their qi and led us closer
Yuki passed along my intent to Snow, and she found a sweet little hiding spot in the branches of a warm-friend tree by blinking up to it. I learned from Snow, and climbed an elm overlooking the area.
Batshu Turkey Alpha, animal, dusk
Talents: Cruel Mistress, Heat Wave, Precarious Boiler
The alpha took pride of place at the bowl’s center. Twelve other turkeys nestled around her. About half had her coloring, with a mix of orange and brown feathers, while the rest looked like regular turkeys.
I got my arrows ready, but didn’t poison them all. I’d start with clean arrows first, and switch over to the poisoned ones only if it became necessary. Our larder was full, yes, but I had a sudden hankering for smoked turkey.
My heart pounded, but I moved methodically, trusting in the long hours I’d spent practicing. My qi drained as it fed the Camouflage spell around me, but I didn’t rush. Slow was fast and fast was slow--the proverb came from my old life, but it was true in this one as well.
I ran through the sequence in my mind one more time before asking Yuki, Ready?
Yes.
And Sun-on-Snow? I asked.
Also ready.
Then let’s do this.
I gathered my qi into the loops needed for Spiral Pierce. The wind licked my face and hair as it began to spin around the arrow. I drew the bow and waited for the stillness between breaths to release.
The air cracked, and the arrow thunked into the alpha. She fell to the side, and suddenly Snow was behind her, claws slashing at the back of her neck.
I let go of the Camouflage spell and.... Help me--
Yuki read the rest from my intent and spun up Dog’s Agility for me while I prepared another Spiral Pierce. Snow blinked away, and the alpha’s heatbeam seared the air where she’d been. It struck a pine in her place, and the tree’s trunk split as the sap inside vaporized.
The arrows came quickly now--three in as many seconds--piercing through flapping, squawking chaos. That drew the alpha’s attention, and I dropped out of the tree. The heatbeam cut across the area, branches bursting as it passed. No fires, though. My dimly registered that before I wove through the trees, putting them between me and a hot death.
The heatbeam stopped, and I glanced long enough to see Snow attacking the alpha once more, limned in moonlight.
Hit Points 12/12
Mana 12/20
Qi 7/35
There was enough qi for one more spiral pierce, and I sent an arrow at the alpha, this one poisoned.
I slung Princess Lily and circled back for my spear, keeping the trees between me and the alpha. Three of the batshu turkeys chased me, but they were just overgrown turkeys. No heatbeams (yet), and certainly not faster than me on Dog’s Agility.
Thirty seconds left.
I registered Yuki’s warning and used the last of my qi to reinforce the spear. A batshu turkey flew at me, wings flapping, but my spearhead caught it mid-breast. I pushed through for the kill and swung the spear around to flick the body away. The other batshu turkeys avoided the spear, but by the time they were ready to attack again, I brought it back into position. A thrust and another was dead. The third batshu turkey, I smashed in the head with the spear’s butt, disorienting it enough for me to swing the spearhead back around for a slice through the neck. Not enough to decapitate the animal, but blood did spurt in the air.
How’s Snow?
She’s retreated and in hiding.
The alpha was still alive. The sound of trees fracturing continued, but it came less and less frequently. I snuck back, relying on the night to keep me hidden, and saw the alpha bleary-eyed and staggering. She fell and struggled to stand back up. Her beak opened but nothing came out.
Three of the batshu turkeys were left, but instead of guarding the alpha, they approached her. One pecked, another clawed, and when the alpha didn’t (couldn’t) defend herself, they attacked in earnest. They even squabbled with each other trying to get at her core.
All it took was an arrow to kill one and send the other two scurrying into the forest. The regular turkeys had long since fled the scene.
My sweat steamed in the cold air as I came out of hiding. The alpha’s baleful eyes turned towards me, and me lifting my spear was the last thing she saw in life.
Moments later, Snow brought back the bodies of the escaped batshu turkeys, one at a time. She had a cut on one shoulder and a burn on her haunch. The cut was minor, but the burn took two healing spells to fix. Once the discomfort was gone, she was pleased as punch, her eyes narrowed in pleasure at all the meat around us.
I looked around at the carnage and said a few words to put the spirits at ease. When that didn’t work on the more spiteful spirits (looking at you, alpha), I was more forceful in sending them onto their next life. They were still disoriented from their recent deaths, so it didn’t feel as tricky as the time in Voorhei’s pyramid.
The whole encounter hadn’t lasted more than a minute, but I felt drained. Pleased at what we’d accomplished, but tired and jittery. There was more to be done, though, and no time to rest. We’d made quite a lot of noise after all, and it wouldn’t do to stick around too long.
I cut out the cores, pulled dozens of orange feathers, and strung a couple of the turkeys together so that I could balance them across my shoulders. Snow grabbed a turkey too and blinked-accompanied me home.
###
The next day, I gathered stones and mud to expand the refrigerator to accommodate the extra meat. It meant detouring from my training schedule, but the shine in Ikflael’s eyes when she looked inside was worth it.
I put off smoking the meat though, as I didn’t have the time nor the attention to spare. Instead, I planned to bring the turkeys, as well as some of the other trade goods, with me to Voorhei. Bihei and the kids could do a better job smoking them using the lodge’s smokehouse than I could at the glen. The same was true for the hides. I started the process, but would let them finish.
Another two days passed, but without any further excitement. When I got tired or my thoughts grew heavy, the kittens livened things up again with their antics. And yeah, the fur under their bellies was just as soft as I’d imagined.
###
Back in Voorhei, I parked the travois outside Bihei’s longhouse just as dawn broke. The kids heard me arrive, and tumbled out of the house to greet me. Bihei walked after them, maintaining the dignity of adulthood, but her hug was just as tight.
The kids chattered, bright as birds, impatient to share everything that happened while I was away. It was so good to see them. I missed their voices.
Grinning, I unveiled the turkeys hidden under the hides, and the kids’ eyes shined just as much as Ikfael’s had. Satisfied by the response, I suggested we immediately take the meat to the smokehouse while the morning was still cool, but the kids had a surprise for me too.
They handed me a pair of gloves. The buckskin covering the palms was supple, while the backs were leather-tough as well as flexible. They had to be to withstand the stitching of dozens of small bone squares. There were even threads of cloth woven between the squares to keep them from clicking. They were the animal handling gloves I’d requested.
The kids looked so proud of themselves, and really, they ought to be. The gloves were perfect. Just perfect.
Then Bihei brought out a leather vest, the interior lined with the quviut from the musk oxen. She helped me put it on, and the quviut was just as warm as I’d heard. It fit perfectly too. Working with leather was notoriously difficult, but somehow she managed to make the stitches all straight and tidy.
I teared up at the thoughtfulness, and the kids giggled, pleased by my reaction. The little stinkers, they won this round, but that just meant I had to bring home an even better gift next time.
###
Breakfast with the Family ran long, so I arrived at the Hunter’s Lodge later than planned. Well, I wasn’t due until evening, but I hoped to find someone with whom to spar. If not Inleio, then another hunter.
The lodge’s courtyard was full of hunters practicing their arts--whether it be spear, bow, skill, or spell. A few noted my arrival and waved, but most focused on their training. I asked and was told that Mumu and the rest of my team were inside.
I found them gathered around one of the butchering tables. On the table was a hillside modeled in clay and smaller pieces representing individual hunters, ballistae, and terrain. For a moment, I felt like I stumbled back into my world, intruding on a game of Warhammer.
Mumu broke through the dissonance by waving me over. The others nodded their greetings and made room for me at the table. They listened to a debate between two hunters from Kesa’s team about the placement of the ballistae.
One favored placing them apart, while the other argued for placing them together. Apart, it was easier to create crossfire and harder to damage them in one big attack. Together, the ballistae would be more easily defended and both could take advantage of the best terrain on the battlefield--a high outcropping.
“The lightning bear can jump,” I said, interrupting. “I’ve seen him leap from the escarpment west of Ikfael Glen and land unharmed. Now, that’s not the same as jumping across a battlefield, but I don’t think we should underestimate his ability to move around.”
Mumu asked “Can you estimate how far he can go?”
I thought back to the time I spent in the Cave of Origins, shortly after meeting Yuki. I’d just killed the chliapp lion, and there’d been a thunderstorm. After leaping from the escarpment, the King of the Forest rampaged through the forest below.
“Keeping in mind that I’ve only seen him at a distance, if I had to guess… maybe half the length of the lodge’s compound. Probably longer.” That meant a twenty-yard jump at a minimum.
The hunters frowned, and Kesa started moving the pieces on the board farther apart. “My team witnessed him casting it at targets eighteen qilm away,” she said.
I did the math. Each qilm was about five feet, so… thirty yards? “That’s what I’ve seen as well.”
After a moment’s consideration, Kesa pushed the pieces even farther apart. “It will be difficult for our teams to support each other.”
“Do we need to?” Mumu asked. “None of us will directly face the bear. That is Banan’s team’s role. The dolbecs will occupy the bear, while the others kill him. Our lodge will contribute archery and spells, and if a bear attacks one of our teams, it will immediately withdraw.”
“That assumes the team can withdraw without help,” Kesa said. “Not all are as strong as you, Mumu.”
Mumu frowned, but didn’t respond. She considered the table, as did the other hunters.
“The key,” Tegen said, “is if the dolbecs can hold the bear. If they can do that, then it is the lightning left.”
“Banan’s team will use potions from the Alchemist’s Lodge to protect themselves from it,” Kesa said. “What can we do to protect ourselves other than to spread out?”
I knocked on the table to get their attention. “There are two things to worry about with lightning: the overflash, where most of the energy passes over the body, and the intrusion, where a portion enters the body through its orifices.”
“Little Pot?” Mumu asked. “How do you know this?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time watching lightning fall, and I’ve learned about it from the best experts. This was before I was lost in the woods. Before Ikfael Glen.” I paused to look at the doubtful faces around me. “I’m willing to drink the truth-telling tea if it would help you trust my words more.”
“No, keep going,” Mumu said. “We believe--”
Kesa put a hand on Mumu’s shoulder. “Perhaps it would be wise to bring the tea. That way we can listen to our Little Pot with ears clear of doubt.”
Mumu was the lodge’s most promising hunter, likely its next master, but Kesa was older and more experienced. After a staredown, Mumu nodded. “Yes, of course,” she said and left for the cellar.
In the meantime, the other hunters discussed different ideas for containing the King of the Forest. I didn’t listen too closely, as I was focused on getting my thoughts in order.
Twenty minutes later, Mumu came back with a steaming cup of tea. One whiff, and the muscles in my face and chest relaxed. I drank, and my thoughts grew distracted.
Kesa looked in my eyes, and nodded to herself, apparently satisfied that the tea had taken effect. “Eight, tell us what you know about lightning, and how you came to know it.”
“Mi abuela...my grandmother told me that I was born during a thunderstorm, that a thunderbird came to roost that night on the top of our house in... Well, you wouldn’t know the place, and it doesn’t matter. That’s too far back anyway.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve always been interested in lightning, and was afforded the opportunity to read and learn about it before I came to Ikfael Glen. I spoke with people who studied the weather all their lives, people who worked with caged lightning, and people who harnessed it.”
“They were lightning-touched?” Kesa asked.
“No, their talents lay elsewhere, but they were observant scholars and meticulous artificers.”
“So you’re not a spirit of the forest given human shape?” A hunter asked.
“No, of course not,” I said.
“Speak out of turn again,” Mumu said, glowering at the hunter, “and I’ll kick your ass from here to the village gate.”
“And I will kick your ass,” Kesa said to the same hunter, “from the gate to the village boundary. Eight agreed to talk about lightning, and that is all we will ask about.” She turned to me. “My apologies. Now please continue.”
“As I said before, there are two primary dangers from lightning. I don’t know if they correlate with lightning qi, but they give us a place from which to start. The first is the overflash. Most lightning passes over the body, and the danger there is from flash vaporization of any moisture on the skin. It can cause severe burns and tear apart clothes as it rapidly expands. For us, that probably means sweat, but mist and rain would also create problems. As would clothing or armor that traps the vapor.”
Several of the hunters checked their clothing as I spoke; proof that they were listening to my warnings.
“The other issue is when lightning enters the body through the eyes, ears, nose, or throat. Usually, it’s a small portion of the overall energy, but once inside, the lightning can ride the inner channels to do great damage to the heart, lungs, brain, and more. The thing to remember about lightning, though, is that it seeks a path of least resistance. If there’s a channel available that’s easier than the body’s orifices, it’ll go that way instead.”
“What does that mean? What can provide an easier channel?” Tegen asked.
“Iron,” I said. “The people I met who worked with lightning wore chainmail. It molded to the body and didn’t impede movement. And the metal provided a preferred channel for the lightning to travel through, drawing it away from the orifices to the ground.”
The hunters who’d been checking their clothes grimaced. Mail was expensive after all. Not many could afford it.
“Does it have to be mail,” Kesa asked.
“I don’t know, but I imagine it’s possible that a network of wires might be enough. A lot depends on the amount of energy carried by the bear’s attacks. If it’s as much as natural lightning, then even mail likely won’t be enough.” It was hard to think under the tea’s effects, but… “Even if the wires drain away only some of the energy, that’s energy that’s not available to attack a hunter’s inner organs. It’s bound to help, even if only a little.”
“We have two tendays left until the hunt,” Mumu said. “How much wire can our smiths produce in that time?”
“Quite a lot, if they don’t have to fashion into anything fancy,” Kesa said. “Is there anything else we should know, Eight?”
“Just that the wires should touch the ground, or else the lightning will use a hunter’s legs to travel the rest of the way.”
“Noted,” Kesa said. She turned to call for Ben, the hunter who knew the Spark spell. The room grew noisy as hunters talked about ways to test what I'd told them.
Meanwhile, Mumu led me to a quiet corner to wait out the effects of the tea. She patted me on the head, and I heard her whisper as she left, “Truly, a Blessing.”
