Kara (3 page)

Pain throbbed and panic took over. The
current sucked her down, and the rocks pushed her upward. She
gulped for air, but got water.

Her lungs gasped desperately for air. Rocks
flashed before her. The world began to spin.

Crack!

All went black.

Chapter Two

It started as an ordinary day for the dwarc
in the Territories. This he would tell himself later. Always an
early riser, Hambone had planned most of his morning already. It
was off to market, hopefully for something good to eat, and then
maybe a lazy stroll home to enjoy the weather.

Hambone’s path to market took him close to
the Kilarne River. Often he would stop, skip a few stones across
the dirty river, trying to make it to the other side, to Faldoa—the
land of the humans. The bottom was never clearly visible because of
the mud washing off the mountain. Hambone claimed the mud in the
river helped with his stone skipping ability. His friends Dante and
Grace always told him the claim was ridiculous.

Today, he was not interested in throwing
stones. His stomach grumbled. The faster he got to the market, the
faster he would get to eat. He jogged down the path, but something
by the river caught his eye. There on the shore, something had
washed up. A form, maybe a rock or just a tree limb. As he got
closer, Hambone saw the nearby rocks draped with auburn hair.

Was it some kind of animal? Curiosity and
concern got the better of him and he approached the thing. The form
wore a dress that once might have been a pretty color, but was now
a drab, dirty brown. The river had given it a mud washing. Slowly,
he veered off the path and crept toward the body. When he was
within a few feet, he could see a face.

He jumped back. “It’s a human!” But how could
a human be in the Territories? Only non-humans like him lived
here.

Hambone held in his excitement. Nervous
energy rushed through his body and almost caused him to jump up and
down. He had never seen a human up close before. Quickly, he looked
around. Where there was one human, there probably were more. There
was nobody else around. He picked up a stick and poked the
body.

The human coughed.

Hambone jumped behind a tree. He peeked
around the trunk and waited for the human to do something else.
Maybe morph into something hideous or get up and swim away.

Silence.

The body lay in its original state. Hambone
stared, ready to run if the human stood up. Everyone knew they were
dangerous. The wicked tales told about humans could have been
exaggerated when he was a kid, but some of it had to be true.

Slowly, he made his way from behind the tree.
Each step brought him closer to the thing. A few more steps and he
stood over the form.

What to do now?

***

As she surfaced from sleep, Kara could feel
her damp, mud-sodden clothes clinging to her. Any little movement
caused the cold wetness to seep further into her bones. Soft
sunlight heated her cheek but that was the only part of her warm.
Muck crusted her eyes, making them stick a bit as she opened them.
Some dried dirt broke off from her lashes and blurred her
sight.

Another coughed rippled her lungs, expelling
the remaining fluid. Her head ached. Actually, Kara found her whole
body ached from her battle with the river.

Where am I? Where is Birch?
Why had
she gone into the water? Her mind searched for answers, but her
memories were hazy. Witch Guard, fire, her father. An uncle?

She blinked her eyes, clearing more of the
mud.

Above her, a large hand with huge fingers
reached for her.
A monster!

“Ahhhh!”

The hand darted away. The figure jumped back
and took off running. An echoing scream erupted from it.

Blood pumped through her body and forced
movement. She rolled to her feet and stood with a cough. Pain
throbbed in her head, causing her to stoop closer to the ground.
All her senses were on alert wanting to know who that hand belonged
to. She rubbed her eyes, clearing away the last of the mud.

“Hello?” It came out as a questioning but
anguished cry.

The forest looked empty. The hand, the
monster, whatever it was, was gone. Kara waited and listened, not
sure what she’d do if something responded.

A bird chirped in the distance and the river
waves made small sounds as they lapped upon the shore. And then,
there it was.
Snap!
A small twig broke under a heavy foot,
somewhere behind one of the trees to her left.

“Hello?” Kara tried to insert confidence into
her voice.

Nothing answered back.

“I know you’re there! You might as well come
out…slowly. I warn you. I’ve got a big stick and I’m not afraid to
use it.” Her voice held command, but inside fear gripped her.

Kara glanced behind her at the river. The far
shore was a good quarter mile away. A chill rippled her spine.
Which side of the river am I on?

“Come out!” But her own voice betrayed her as
it cracked. She had no weapon to defend herself with except a thin
stick. And if this wasn’t Faldoa, then it must be the Territories
and there could be anything on the other side of that tree.

A hand appeared around one of the nearby
oaks, the same hand that had been reaching for her.

Her breath caught at the sight of it.
Already, Kara could tell it was not human. The skin was a pale,
pasty color. Five sausage-like fingers complete with dirty nails
wrapped around the tree. Dark hair covered the muscular arm that
wrapped the trunk.

Within a few seconds, the rest of the
creature came into view.

Kara’s original gasp almost turned to
laughter, but shock held her in check at the sight of the beast.
Most people would expect the monster attached to that arm would be
a horrible picture, but the arms were the worst of it. The rest of
him was just plain ludicrous.

Dressed like a prairie farmer, giant overalls
clung to the massive shoulders and a short, faded red shirt covered
the rest of its torso. A hat made of some reeds and straw barely
fit over its long locks of bark colored hair. A large mustache
trailed under a large doorknob nose. A partially braided beard hung
off its chin.

“I-I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean any
harm.” The voice was gruff, but intelligible. It reminded her of
the fat men in town when they talked.

Kara stared, not moving, still unsure of the
sight before her.

“I’m…I’m Hambone.” the beast said, offering
an out-stretched hand, but not daring to take a step closer.
“Nice….ta…meet you?” The creature had an awkwardness to it that
made it seem simple.

“What…umm? I’m…Kara.” Kara stumbled over her
words. He didn’t look like anyone, or anything she had ever seen
before. No doubt about it, she was in the Territories. It was a
land of the non-human races, and this creature was about as
non-human as they go.

“I’m a dwarc. Part orc and part dwarf.”
Hambone seemed pleased by this fact. He relaxed a bit.

Her father once read to her about elves,
dwarves, and fairies, but that was just childhood tales. Or was
it?

“I’ve never met a…” Again, unsure of how to
express anything, Kara’s voice sputtered out.

“I think I am the only one. Unique in a way.
Mom called me her special Orc-kin. Dad was the dwarf.” He started
to take a step toward her, but she immediately backed up.

“Stay there!” Water splashed at her ankles as
she stepped into the river.

Hambone looked a little shocked by the fierce
command.

“It’s okay. I understand. I look scary. I got
my size from my mom, and hair and brains from my dad.” He turned
his back on her and took a couple of steps away. “I’ll go now.”

“No…wait. It’s not…” Kara said uncertainly.
She looked up and saw that the creature was listening intently.
“Someone was chasing me….and I jumped into the river.”

Hambone’s eyes went wide. “Who would be
chasing something as….small as you?”

“Um…” And Kara pressed hard to remember all
that had happened in the last few hours. “The…Witch Guard?” Why was
she so confused?

“The Witch Guard? They sound like a nasty
bunch. Magic can be dangerous.”

“Magic? Don’t be silly. There is no magic in
Faldoa.” Kara laughed.

“This isn’t Faldoa.”

Kara stared at Hambone, “Oh, no. I was afraid
I was on the wrong side of the river.”

Hambone looked taken aback. “Um…it’s not the
wrong side to me. It’s perfectly nice here in the Territories.
Actually, Macada, if you want to get even more specific.”

It was Kara’s turn to look bewildered.
“Macada?” Panic crept into her voice. But how will I get home?”

“I don’t know,” Hambone said. “Maybe you’ll
have to stay here forever.”

“B-but…but t-that’s not…p-possible. I belong
in Faldoa. My father is in danger, and I need to get home. Please,
you must help me.”

***

King La’ard set his chalice of mead on the
table and turned toward the opening door to the dining hall. A
figure in sulfur black boots entered the room. An unmistakable hiss
followed the footsteps.

“Master Kreitan.”

“Sire.” Kreitan dropped to one knee in front
of his king.

The king waved him to his feet but held up
one finger to stop further speech while he plucked another potato
from the plate. Eerie silence hung as La’ard slowly chewed,
savoring each texture and flavor. All the while, he fixed Kreitan
with a penetrating glare. Kreitan did not waver in his stance under
the scrutiny of his king.

La’ard took the cloth that lay on his lap,
dabbed at a smear of grease on his face, pushed back his chair, and
stood. The king was not the tallest ruler that Faldoa ever had, but
he definitely had a commanding appearance.

“Master Kreitan, you know how I extremely
dislike being disturbed while eating.”

“Yes, sire.” Kreitan remained still, not
explaining himself. La’ard would ask the questions and get the
information from his loyal servant, but Kreitan would not reveal
anything more until asked. He’d make La’ard work for the
answers.

“Walk with me and we will discuss this matter
which I presume has been resolved.”

Kreitan fell in step just behind the king. He
felt small next to La’ard. Then again, it could have been the crown
La’ard wore everywhere. Kreitan thought that adornment unnecessary,
making his king look like a fool.

“So the lead proved false?”

“No, sire. There were complications.”

La’ard stopped and turned toward his captain.
Long silver locks of hair swished around the crown. The hair was a
common trait among the Mathis royal line. No one touched the king’s
hair. It seemed that no one needed to. La’ard relished how some
servants whispered that his hair was magically enchanted, while
peons from the town below the hill said it was wraith’s hair and
that La’ard himself was an apparition in disguise. All utter
nonsense, but the king did not wish to dispel the rumor, for it
caused loyalty—or at least fearful devotion.

“Complications?”

“Yes, sire.”

“So, I gather you were not able to retrieve
what I sent you for.” La’ard began walking again. Kreitan followed
suit.

“No, sire.”

“Was the item even there?”

“Unknown, sire.”

La’ard pursed his lips and lapsed into
silence. The two men entered a hallway corridor, where a servant
quickly skittered out of their path.

“But I trust the baker and his family were
brought in for further scrutiny?”

“The baker was, but the wife and daughter
were not.”

La’ard stopped and looked back at Kreitan.
“Escaped?”

“The daughter…yes. The wife did not…escape.”
A small smile cracked the captain’s face. Kreitan only found
pleasure in the death and misery of others.

“I see.” The king paused. “What should our
next actions be, Kreitan?”

“I believe the girl knows something.”

“Continue.”

“She ran.”

La’ard looked at the man. “Of course she ran.
Your Witch Guard are feared throughout the land. I’m sure Euphoria
would….”

The king caught his words and paused a
moment.

Kreitan waited. He knew the king’s weakness
was his precious daughter. It was the reason for all the ‘chores’
Kreitan had to do. He decided to provide a little more unasked
detail to hide his delight.

“When using the daughter as leverage, the
baker cracked even more so than when using his wife. When he found
out she escaped, he clammed up.”

La’ard continued down the hall. Kreitan had
to take a hurried step to catch up. “The bond between father and
daughter is a strong one, more so than wife and husband. Of course,
he would crack more when the child was threatened.”

“The girl also escaped from three of my Witch
Guard with help from a Mordock.”

The king stopped in his steps and swiftly
turned. “A Mordock? Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be from my men’s
descriptions. He claimed to be her uncle.”

La’ard hesitated. “Was this man brought
in?”

Kreitan hesitated a moment, a definite sign
of weakness. La’ard would criticize him for this. “The Mordock also
escaped. My men claimed magic, but I believe it was a simple smoke
bomb that confused them. They have been dealt with.” A slight smile
hinted upon his face. La’ard cringed.

After a moment, captain and king began moving
again.

“Where is the girl now?”

“She jumped into Kilarne River and was pulled
down stream.”

La’ard cursed under his breath.

Turning a corner and descending stairs, the
castle façade changed—mood, temperature, and light. A smell of
defeat hung on the air. At the bottom of the staircase, a door
opened.

Tyr, the chief dungeoner stood on the other
side. Tyr was darker than the absence of light and larger than any
column of marble used in Euphoria’s room. His hands were two huge
boulders themselves that had crushed many a man’s skull. Muscle and
flesh that served La’ard.