Page 128 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
The tunnel turned quiet and still once more.
Aislinn turned towards him. “What wasthat?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. He had never, ever seen anything like her.
Aislinn put her arm around him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back to the others.”
Aislinn raced back through the shallow stream, Beau fast behind her. Back in the main cavern, the few remaining cave cats had been finally expunged. The ogre was staggering, still swinging, blood pooling down his legs. Magna and Diana unravelled a spool of rope, looping it round its ankles. It fell with a resoundingthudthat shook the cavern, sending down another shower of rock.
Aislinn put up her hands to catch it, spearing the stones with vines. Beau rushed to assist her as the dwarves clambered onto the back of the ogre and stabbed it through the neck. It took an age to dig down into its flesh and do enough damage to mortally wound it.
It took even longer to die, shuddering and groaning until it did.
Finally, it slackened, its breathing withering away to nothing.
The dwarves slid from its inert body. Aislinn and Beau let go of the ceiling. The party gathered, panting hard.
“Cave cats,” Caer said. “Cavecats.You called those things cavecats.Those things were not cats. They were fucking predators!”
“Language,” said Minerva.
“All cats are predators,” Bell said pointedly, helping Flora unload the healing supplies. “You’d do well to remember it.”
Hecate wound her way around Caer’s legs, blood gleaming in her fur. The look she gave him was smug.
“I’m onto you,” Caer said, whilst rooting through his pockets to see if he had any salted meat for her. Aislinn giggled.
“Injuries,” said Minerva. “Report.”
One by one, the party reported their cuts and scrapes. Dillon, whose wounds didn’t bother him, and some of the others with the least amount of injuries, were sent to round up the wargis and calm them down. Aislinn and Beau healed each other instantly and helped see to them. Wargis, thankfully, were not resistant to their magic.
Unlike ogres, giants and dwarves.
“Are there any other creatures my magic is unlikely to work on?” Caer asked. “I should probably know before I risk my life trying to end them.”
“Trolls,” said everyone almost at once.
“And golems,” added Bell, with a look at Minerva.
There was a general murmur of agreement.
Aislinn glanced around the party as they cleaned wounds and bandaged themselves up. Three of Bell’s fingers had been crushed in the fight, there were a lot of bites and bruises—some no doubt to scar forever. She wished she was able to help them, and couldn’t help but marvel at their sheer determination. Nothing seemed to hamper them for long. Their attitude seemed to be,“Stitch it up, swig of painkiller, mug of ale, someone help her with her bedroll and mind-over-matter.”
She turned to Caer, whose shoulder was being cleaned by Flora. A bit of his flesh was missing.
“Don’t suppose I can convince you to let me heal that for you, can I?”
“Prolonged contact with your skin? Not the best idea.”
Aislinn swallowed. “It must hurt.”
“Not as much as hurting you.”
“Could I—” she stopped.
“What?”
“You can’t hurt me when you’re sleeping. If you’d give me permission…”
