Hunter's Beginning (Veller) Page 7

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  4

  The wolves were coming, they were getting closer. The winter had been harsh that year, and there was no food in the highlands, they were hungry and a hungry wolf knows no boundaries. They had only been seen on the outer edges of Riverport up until now, but they were getting closer. Livestock had gone missing, and worse.

  She knew they were coming, she didn’t know how or why she knew, only that she knew. It was as if she could feel them, as if she was one of them. Racing across the frozen ground, the cold winter winds blowing through her fur, the heat of the pack running alongside her. There was something in the forest, something that wasn’t supposed to be there, something that was fair game. They crossed the frozen river without stopping, twelve of them. The rest of the pack would be waiting behind for them to bring something back. It was food, or it was starvation.

  She could smell the burning wood of the camp fire, and she could smell the scent of the vir. The vir had made a mistake. The vir had entered the forest and was now on their territory. During these hard times, the vir was as good as any livestock, the vir was fair game.

  She crested the hill top and stopped to survey her hunting grounds. It was easy to find the camp that the vir had so foolishly made. From here she could see two of them, both females of the species. One was young, no more than nine winters. The other was older and therefore more dangerous. She held a weapon of metal in her hands and stood between the wolves and the child, but it was the child that had drawn her attention. The child was something special, the child was what she wanted. She sent the signal to her pack, and they moved as one.

  They circled the camp, coming in on all sides at once, they had done it before, and it proved effective in the past. The older female vir with her weapon of metal stood her ground, but she didn’t really matter, she didn’t really stand a chance. She was outnumbered, and she was soon surrounded, but she would not give up. The wolves remained cautious, they had seen such weapons before and knew of the pain that they could inflict. Their numbers were dwindling, and even the loss of one pack member was a price too high to pay. They kept circling, keeping the female vir off guard, keeping her moving with them, always with them, always watching, her weapon of metal held high and ready to strike, but she couldn’t watch them all.

  The wolf saw her mark, she waited for her chance. It was her job to strike the first blow. The female vir had made a mistake, she turned her back on the wolf and the wolf seized her opportunity, but she wasn’t fast enough, the weapon can down, she tried to get out of the way but desperation made her careless and hunger had made her slow. The metal bit hard into her side, the pain exploded in her head, the child cried out.

  “RUN!”

  Kile fell upon the floor of her small cell like room. The pain in her side was unbearable, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t think, she could hardly breathe. She lay there for what felt like hours clutching at the wound on her side, yet only a few moments had passed before she was able to catch her breath. When she slowly moved her hands away, there was no blood, there was no wound, there was nothing. She was still too weak to move but managed to roll over on her back and stared up at the ceiling. The cold stone was actually a welcome relief as she wiped the sweat from her brow. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, it took her a few minutes to realize where she was and why she was on the floor.

  It was a dream, but it was so real, more so than anything she had ever experienced before. She tried to recall it, but when she closed her eyes all she could see were the gray eyes of the wolf staring back at her through the darkness. Did it mean something? Was she forgetting something? Was she remembering something? Was she even mentally stable anymore? She tried to sit up, but the spinning room prevented that. The pain in her side had been replaced by the nausea in her stomach.

  When she was finally able to see straight she noticed a small round short legged table in the middle of her once empty cell like room. It wasn’t there before she had gone to sleep, that much she was sure of. It would have been hard to miss. It was about four feet in diameter and stood two feet off the floor, upon it was an assortment of jars, plates, cups, utensils, breads, cheeses, fruits and even a ceramic craft that held something to drink. This was probably their idea of a balanced breakfast. The problem was how did they get into her room without her knowing it? She really didn’t like the idea of mystics in robes setting up a table of food in her room as she slept, of course it could have just appeared by itself and that wouldn’t have surprised her either.

  She crawled over to the table to see what they had actually set out for her. She even went as far as to open a few of the jars to see what the mystics had crammed into them, but just the smell of some of the contents had been enough to turn her already upset stomach. One thing did catch her attention though. In the center of the table among the jars and under a cloth napkin was a small polished ebony box, about three inches square, with a lid that was adorned with intricately carved runes, not that Kile knew what runes were. She had heard of them once, from that traveling mystic that had passed through town, and figured that this is what they would look like, if they were runes.

  Kile reached for the box, and as she did a rolled up parchment tied with a green cord suddenly appeared on top of it, just under her outstretched hand. There was a time when this would have startled her, but now it was just getting old, fast. She was willing to play along for now, as she carefully picked up the parchment. She removed the green cord and unrolled it on the table as she picked up a piece of toast to nibble on. The lettering on it was written in a spidery hand, a bit on the shaky side, probably one of the older mystics, but still easy enough to read.

  “As a Hunter, one of your tasks will be the handling and delivery of vital information. This box is you last test. It is paramount that it reaches its final destination on time, in one piece and unopened. Should it be lost upon your journey you will fail, should it be damaged upon your journey, you will fail, should it be opened upon your journey, you will fail. Should your time run out, and you are unable to complete your journey for whatever reason, you will fail. Once you take the box, your journey will begin and your path will be made clear.”

  It seemed like a strange test as she looked over the parchment again. There was no indication of who she was supposed to deliver the box to, or how long she had to deliver it, or for that matter, how she was even supposed to get there. Currently there was only one door leading out of her room, and that opened back out into the hallway which leads to the classroom. Of course that was yesterday. There was no telling where it would lead to today.

  “So, the last test is a simple delivery.” She said, looking at the box. “Why do I have a feeling that this is going to be far from simple?”

  She finished off her piece of toast and reached for the box but hesitated. The note had clearly said that once the box was taken, the journey would begin. So, until she actually touched the box she didn’t actually take it, therefore she was still on free time. It might be a good idea at this point to be a little bit more prepared. She scanned the table once again for anything that might come in handy. It was better than going with nothing at all.

  The cloth napkin would serve a decent pouch as she unfolded it and then spread it out on the floor. She looked over the contents of the table once again.

  Before you start any journey, you should always get your supplies in order. She took a few rolls, some cheese and an apple and placed them on the napkin, she may not be very hungry now, but there was no telling how long this test was going to take. She was just about to tie the napkin up when she grabbed the knife and fork and slipped those into her makeshift pouch as well.

  “Never know what you might need in this place.” She said as she wrapped it up and tied it off with the green cord from the parchment. She then tied her new pouch onto her belt with one of the leather straps she wore to keep her hair back. Once she was sure that the pouch wouldn’t come loose, she was ready to go.

  Kile wa
s feeling a bit better as she got to her feet, the pain and the nausea brought on by the strange dreams were all but gone, and she even risked sampling one of the smaller pastries before finally lifting the small ebony box off the table.

  She didn’t know what to expect as she held the ebony box out before her like some mystic artifact, waiting for it to do whatever it was it was suppose to do, but the box did nothing. She had expected it to whisk her away to some far off road with a signpost that read “you are here” or some such nonsense, when nothing happened she was a little disappointed.

  “Where’s my path you stupid box?” She asked, as she shook it, but the box said nothing.

  Fine, she would have to do this the hard way. She tried the door, but it was locked. No surprise there she thought as she looked around the room. What she hadn’t tried was the second door on the other side of the room, the one that wasn’t there a moment ago.

  She hated the mystic arts.

  “You couldn’t have made a noise of something to let me know about the other door?” She asked the box, but the box still remained silent. This was going to be a long test.

  The second door was the same as the first, except this one wasn’t locked, and it opened up into a long dimly lit corridor. She stood on the threshold for a moment staring out into the gloom. According to the parchment she only had a certain amount of time to complete the deliver, and therefore complete the test. It wouldn’t look good if she failed right from the start. This was an obvious trap. She just wasn’t sure how it was a trap.

  Kile held the box tightly in her hands and started to walk very slowly down the corridor. The light appeared to hover around her as it had no visible source and where she had come from was now just as gloomy as where she was going. She made it a point to observe everything since she wasn’t really sure what she was looking for. She had never seen a trap before, let alone experience one, so she didn’t know what tell tale signs she should expect. Unfortunately the only way she would know exactly what she was looking for was if she actually sets one off, and that wasn’t really an option she wanted to explore.

  One thing that did catch her eye was the artwork on the walls. It was a large mural of the streets of Littenbeck that spanned both sides of the corridor. It wasn’t so much the subject matter, or the intricacy of the detail, it was just the fact that it was there. Nowhere, since she had entered the tower, had she seen any artwork on any wall. The place was completely void of any kind of personal touch. So the big question was, why here and why now?

  She began to examine the pictures more closely as she walked. It could be that they were here to tell her something, or they could be here just to waste her time. They would be an interesting distraction, and it all appeared innocent enough. The farther she walked the larger and more detailed the images became. It started off with a wide view of the city proper, showing the fields, outer wall, the front gate and continued leading straight down the main street. This was the same path that the carriage had taken to bring her here. She was certain that it hadn’t been made just for her. Everyone taking the exam would have entered Littenbeck in the same manner.

  The view was taken from a considerable height by someone who had a working knowledge of the layout of the city. As she followed the images down the corridor, it became more personable, more detailed. Faceless blobs were now people, boxes were now stores. It was a strange artistic perspective, but it never looked awkward. The further along she moved, the closer the view became until she was able to count the bricks in the winery, the hairs upon the little girls head, she could even make out what the woman was carrying in her basket. What forced her to stop and stare was the image of the young guard with a silver helmet in the king’s colors, standing beside the clothes shop. The detail was so eerie that she had expected the guard to ask if she was lost. She pulled herself away from his face and moved on down the painting until she came to where she knew she had to, the mystic’s tower. This was the focal point of the image. She could now see the Tower in all its twisted splendor, its rooted structure spreading out in some bizarre perspective coming to a full sized image of the Oni door, the black courtyard that stretched out around the base and back into the streets. It was so highly detailed that she would have sworn she could see movement behind the tower windows. Finally the tower gave ground to the city streets again and as quickly as the detailed heightened, it started to fade. Soon the definition was lost, the details became blotches again, the stores were no more than simple squares, the people no more than smudges on the wall.

  Did she miss something she wondered as she reached the end of the corridor which ended in a simple wooden door?

  “That was a complete waist of time.” She said a she pulled open the door and walked into the wall behind it. She stumbled backwards and fell on her ass.

  It took her a moment to register what had just happed as she got back to her feet. She slapped the wall, not that she really needed to, she already knew it was solid. The wall was real, no illusion here, of course it didn’t explain why the wall was hidden behind the door in the first place. She searched around the edges of the threshold for some clue, but didn’t really expect to find anything. Was that the test, did she take too long to get down the hall? Were the pictures a distraction? If it was it was a stupid test.

  She sat down and starred at the city streets of Littenbeck. Why the streets she wondered. Why these images? The majority of the cadets were fourteen year old boys; they wouldn’t be distracted by these pictures. She could think of other topics that would have a greater effect. It had something to do with the picture, and the picture’s focal point.

  She got back to her feet and backtracked down the corridor to the center of the mural. It was so simple she had completely overlooked it. The focus of the entire mural was the mystic’s tower, not by coincidence but by design. The focal point of the tower was the oni door.

  She hammed at the painting with a closed fist which cracked under the impact, and a large section of it flaked away. Behind the painting of the door, was another door, a real door. It had been spackled over in some manner to conceal it from sight. She pulled at the thin wall of spackling which now crumbled under the lightest touch. When she was able to expose enough of the door she tried the handle. Sure enough, the door swung in leaving an opening large enough for Kile the squeeze through. She dusted the last of the wall off her clothes. So far so good she thought as she looked down the new corridor. She had no idea if she was making good time or not, she wasn’t even sure how long she had, but she still had the box and it was still in one piece, so two out of three wasn’t bad.

  The new corridor was just as poorly lit as the last corridor. She wasn’t sure if it was to set the atmosphere or the mystics were just too cheap to get decent lightning. Kile set off again, clutching the small ebony box tightly against her chest and walking very slowly. She was scanning the walls for some new clue, when the ground suddenly tilted out from under her.

  It had half to do with her fast reflexes and half to do with the fact that she was smaller them the average cadet, or it could have just been dumb luck. The trap door was built on a counterweight system, and when an unsuspecting person of sufficient weight stepped in the door, it would simply dump them down into a hole and then close again, trapping them into whatever pit they were unfortunate enough to land in. Kile wasn’t of sufficient weight.

  She felt the ground give way, but it didn’t give way fast enough. She was too light to set off the trap in the way it was intended, and she had enough time to throw herself backward onto more solid ground. The trap door quickly resealed and was once again invisible to the untrained eye.

  “Are you kidding me?” She exclaimed as she crawled to the edge of where the door should have been. “I’ve heard of pass or fail but this is ridiculous.”

  She stood up and cautiously tapped the floor with an outstretched foot, trying to find the trap door again, but it was no use. While the door was closed it was indistinguishable from the surroundin
g floor. The only way she could find it again was to put her entire weight on it, and that was not an option. She looked down the corridor, but wasn’t able to see the far end. There was no telling how long the corridor was, or just how many of these trap doors were scattered about the floor waiting for her. What she did find, was that some sections of the floor were of a different color than other sections of the floor. They weren’t going to make it easy, but on the other hand, it didn’t appear that they were trying to make it impossible.

  Kile took a few steps back to get a better look. She had been paying so much attention to the walls, it never occurred to her to look at the floor. If she had, she would have noticed the lines painted down the center of the corridor. Nothing as elaborate as the last puzzle, these were but four simple lines in four basic colors. One she could rule out automatically, the blue line ran right over the trap door that almost got her, or at least where she thought the trap door was. She should have really marked that one. Maybe she shouldn’t rule out the blue line so quickly. There was also a red line, a green line and a yellow line. None of them stood out over the rest, they just twisted and turned overlapping one another like snakes. One of these lines must be the safe path, the problem was, which color.

  It was a matter of reasoning she thought, but even reasoning had to start somewhere. She couldn’t think of any connection with any color that made any sense. The only colors she had seen since the test started were the colors of the mystic’s robes, and they were all different. Alex had told her that those in the purple robes were historians, but there were no purple lines, the closest to that would have been blue, which she wasn’t really sure about, and what would a historian have to do with trap doors anyway. There was that mystic that tested her for her sphere of influence, he was wearing yellow, and there was a yellow line.

  It appeared to be the strongest connection she could think of, even if it was the only connection she could think of. Kile followed the meandering yellow line.