Page 45 of Tiger's Tale
“No. But like you, my parents are gone. I never had any siblings. I envy you that.”
“I wouldn’t. Too many children are a blight on the world. It’s like too many kittens. They must be drowned, else they overpopulate the area.”
Stacia let out a steamy puff of air. She realized then that if Nik’s mental state hadn’t already been troubled, it certainly was now. Perhaps the stress of caring for the two of them was making it worse. Perhaps he already knew he’d lost his place, his hope. That what he’d done had not only risked their lives but might destroy the empire. She briefly wondered if he might be under the influence of the sorcerer even now, but she dismissed it. There had been no sign of him.
It was clear that adding the hunter to the mix wasn’t aiding Nik’s mental state either, but on the other hand, Stacia could also see the benefits of having an experienced hunter who knew the area helping them. She decided it would be a good thing to keep an eye on Nikolai Novikov.
Danik, oblivious to Stacia’s thoughts, glanced over at Nik. “I can see you’ve given this much thought. Though I disagree with you, we’ll speak of this another time, when you’re less sensitive about the subject.”
“I highly doubt that will happen.”
Shifting his pack, Danik said, “Pain fades over time. Old wounds cause stiffness, and there are some that fester and need a great deal of digging out or even amputation before they can heal, but in my experience, a body naturally wants to heal.”
The hunter winked at Veru and gave her a nod, which again made Stacia wonder what, exactly, the two of them had been through. His words and tone indicated he might have witnessed Veru’s healing abilities firsthand, and he had mentioned finding her in an animal trap of some type and that she’d been injured. Stacia wasn’t sure it was wise for the young man to know everything about them, but at the same time they needed allies, and her instincts, both human and animal, told her to trust the man. She tended to rely on instinct, even before she’d turned into a cat.
There was also the fact that Stacia liked what the hunter said and the way his mind worked. He was clearly bright and intelligent. As to his thoughts on pain and healing, she generally agreed with the things he said and found wisdom in his counsel. Like Nik, she was still in pain, though it was of a different sort. She and Veru were still healing from the death of their mother.
Stacia didn’t know how Veru felt about the loss of their home, the potential loss of the empire their parents had built, and the deaths of many of their closest guards, but to her there were too many to allow herself to think about. When she did, she felt herself shutting down. Going numb. It made her feel like rolling over in the dirt and sleeping through the days, not eating, or drinking, just sleeping until one day she didn’t wake up. How could she move forward when loss clung to her like weights around her feet, holding so tightly she couldn’t budge?
Perhaps her sister had found recovery of a sort during her time with the young man. Music had always brought their mother peace. In truth, Veru was much fonder of the musicians than she. Stacia preferred the ringing knell of sword clash to the plucking of strings, and the lilting melodies of pipes tickled her spine until she wanted to dance out of her chair and head out of the room to clear her head.
But she could admit it took a great deal of precision and skill to do what he did. Watching his fingers play on the strings made her whiskers twitch, but it reminded her of stringing a taut bow and aiming it at a knot on a tree. When she hit her mark, she could almost hear the arrow sing in the air. His music was not all that different. It required practice and exactness.
That level of determination was something she admired and rewarded in her soldiers. Stacia was also appreciative of the way he’d handled Nikolai. He was firm, intelligent, and he had a backbone. Yes. The hunter had potential. Perhaps there was more to him as well than just hunting and music.
“Sometimes you don’t heal,” Nik said. “Sometimes a body dies. Then sometimes it comes back again.”
That statement caught Stacia’s attention.
Giving Nik a puzzled sort of look, Danik replied, “I’m not sure about the coming-back part, but you’re right about healing. Still, I’ve found that if a body has the right motivation, healing can happen in most cases.”
Grunting, Nik refused to speak further on the matter.
Toward afternoon, they stopped to check a trap but found nothing. It only took a moment for Danik to reset it, and they pressed on.
By late afternoon, the winds had pick up and clouds had filled the sky, making the heavens as roiling and dark as an angry sea.
“We’d best find shelter,” Danik said. “It looks like a bad storm.”
“Do you think it will blow over by tomorrow?” Nik asked, speaking loudly over the wind and holding his hat on his head so it wouldn’t blow away.
After a brief search of the sky, Danik replied, “I’m uncertain. Storms like this don’t normally hit at this time of year. When they do, they’re unpredictable. Some blow themselves out quickly, but others can last days or even weeks before a reprieve.”
“Weeks?” Nik puffed out a breath and glanced back at Stacia and then at Veru. “The thing is... the longer they’re gone, the more likely the empire will fall. In fact, there might not even be an empireleftfor them to run if I can’t get them back by the end of winter.”
“Right,” Danik said. “Well, since you haven’t really told me what you’re trying to accomplish,exactly, I’d say we should first prioritize. Let’s not worry about the empire just yet, shall we? How about instead we worry about riding out the storm first? You know, surviving? The first time I went out hunting with my cousin and started complaining about my feet, he said, ‘Don’t look at the mountain in the distance. Just focus on the hill in front of you.’”
Danik clapped Nik on the back and grinned. “What do you say we give it a try, Nikolai mag-ass?”
Nik narrowed his eyes and threatened, with his finger raised, “One more time and I’m getting out my book of spells.”
Danik began walking backward, his grin still wide. He caught his hat in his hands just before it blew away. Dark blond hair blew in his eyes. Though the snow and wind stole the sound of his words, Nik could still hear the echoes of the hunter’s laughter and just barely make out the phrase by reading his lips, “Do you promise, Maaaag-assssss?”
“Gah!” Nik screamed into the icy particles of snow and wind and stomped behind the irritating man, trying to catch glimpses of Veru before she disappeared into what would soon become a blizzard.
As he walked in Danik’s footprints, his head down and his feet sinking deeper and deeper into the snow with each passing moment, he cursed the man with every word he could think of and then, when he ran out of words, he began inventing new ones. Every step marked a new descriptive term for the man, and it soothed Nik somewhat that he could yell his feelings as loudly as he liked, and the man couldn’t hear him.
“Pretentious... blathering”—stomp... stomp—“narcissistic... overbearing”—stomp... stomp—“incorrigible...” Nik couldn’t think of another word, so he paused for a moment, and then the perfect term came to mind. Raising his arms in the air, he shouted loudly, “Povesa!”
