Raina's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

The antlered wolf led Raina north, and the land grew strange. Snow crusted the roots. The trees here were not black with poison, only bare and cold. She did not know this ground. Hunger pinched her belly, and the wolf's ribs showed through its gray fur. It needed food. She needed shelter. But the wolf did not hunt. It lifted its nose and drew a long breath, then turned off the path. It had caught the smell of magic on the wind, and it followed that instead. Raina trusted the wolf. It had shown her the truth of the poison. So she went where its nose pulled it. The trail bent toward a clearing. There a great mushroom tree stood alone, its trunk thick and green, its wide caps blotched purple over the snow. Small mushrooms crowded its roots. The wolf stopped at the tree's edge and stared past it. Someone was there. A bullman knelt in the snow, splitting deadwood with his bare hands. He was huge, horned, built for hauling. His fists glowed. Blue marks burned on his forearms, and the light spilled out of them without his asking. A log cracked apart and flew wide, and he flinched from his own power. When he saw Raina he stood. His eyes were the same gold as the wolf's. "You carry magic," he said. He nodded at her willow sword. "I smelled it. So did your wolf, I think." He held up his glowing hands. "This flares on its own. I can't hold it. I go door to door looking for a teacher. I offer my back and my hands. Take me on, and I'll carry what you can't." Raina studied him. She had a long road ahead and no food. "I'm not a teacher," she said. "I hunt the thing poisoning the god's forest. It runs from the north, under the sleeping god himself. That's where I go." The bullman went still. "Grimhorn," he said. "Taurus Grimhorn. I know that ground." He pointed north with one burning hand. "I was born past those hills. The land there died before the rest. The roots you chase — they come from a hollow beneath an old cairn. I've seen it breathe." Raina's grip tightened on the sword. He knew the source. He had seen it with his own eyes. "Show me," she said. "Guide me there, and I'll teach you to hold your power. That's the trade." He put out a broad hand. "Done." She took it. His magic sparked against her palm and did not burn her. The wolf sat, satisfied, its search over. Raina had come north for food and shelter and found neither. She had found a guide who knew the way to the god, and a debt she now owed. The path to the source had a witness. She would not walk it blind.