Panic curled in my gut and spurred me into action. My elbow found Oliver’s ribs. “Wake up!” I demanded.
He muttered something in his sleep and when I leaned forward to retie my boots, he slid behind me, banging his head against the trunk.
Still, he did not wake.
I shook his leg. “Wake up, Oliver!” I dug my fingernails into his thigh. “Wake up!”
He opened one eye. “What is it, your royal highness? Do you need your chamber pot emptied?”
“First of all, you would make a terrible servant. You should never go into the business of changing chamber pots.” His second eyelid lifted, and he gave me a sleepily sardonic smile. “Second of all, our services are needed. So move your skinny arse!”
“Our services?” He came more fully awake.
The screaming rent the air once again and I twirled my finger, indicating the sound.
“Oh.” He scurried to his feet, trying to step in either direction without success. “Oh.” I handed him his pack so he could secure it to his body. “What is that?” he asked again after listening for a minute.
“I think it’s a baby. Or a small child. Either way, it sounds as if it’s in a great deal of pain.”
Jumping down, we checked ourselves again to make sure we had everything, then took off toward the cries.
We moved as fast as we could without knowing exactly where we were going. Unfortunately, the sounds took us deeper into the forest, instead of out of it. We tried to put up quick markers so we could find our way out again, but we didn’t take enough time to make sure the task was done properly. With every second, the cries became louder and more pronounced.
The broad trees and snarled roots were easier to navigate during the daylight, but not by much. We picked our way over the rough terrain. With every minute, my chest squeezed tighter and tighter.
What if a beast carried the baby off before we could get to it?
What if the baby was already being carried off?
What if the same wildebeest from last night had at last found something to feast upon?
“Tess, what do you think it is?” Oliver panted.
I felt him slow behind me and prickled at his sudden reluctance. Glancing back at him, he looked much more alert than at first. His normal cowardice had finally woken. “A baby,” I hissed. “One that is in trouble. We need to move.”
Oliver’s uneasy glare bounced from tree to tree. “You don’t think…?”
His hesitation bit into my resolve. “What, Oliver? I don’t think what?”
“Dragon’s blood, Tess! We’re in the Blood Woods. If there’s a baby screaming, why are we running pell-mell toward it?”
His question stole some of my courage. What baby would be left alone, or worse, in the Blood Woods indeed? The child in question screeched as loudly as ever, shattering the sudden fear that held me back. I began to move again. “It needs us, Oliver. We are not the kind of people that sit idly by while injustice brews.”
He didn’t follow me. Even after my rousing speech.
I allowed one more minute to spin around and pin him with my most serious frown. “Oliver the Silent, don’t be a coward!”
His eyes narrowed, but he took one step forward. “I hate it when you get your way.”
“And I hate it when I have to resort to insults to get your cooperation.”
“I’m not a coward,” he grumbled even while he picked up speed. “I’m intelligently careful. Unlike some princesses I know.”
“All right, Oliver the Careful, you’ve stated your case. If death awaits us, I shall allow you to be right.”
“I accept your apology,” he countered.
I held his gaze, acknowledging that he was, in fact, right. We had no idea what hid behind the next tree, let alone what evil thing could force a baby to make such a horrific sound. Still, I had to do something. And I was grateful for a friend that would do that something with me even when he knew better. I grabbed his hand and we sprinted.
Finally, we came to a ravine. We peered over the top and found the source of that horrid sound lying at the bottom of a muddy gully. Pushed to the far side, a trickle of a stream was nearly buried beneath wet leaves and exposed roots from towering trees.
Oliver grabbed my forearm in his crushing grip. “Tessana,” he growled. “That is not a baby.”
6
“It is a baby!” I protested. “Just not a human baby.” My feet carried me forward and I half-slid down the side of the embankment, kicking up dead leaves and dirt.
“Tessana!” Oliver cried. “I’m not helping you!”
“Up the hill or with the little one?”
Oliver thought about it for a moment. “Neither.”
“Very well,” I sighed. “Then I’ll be forced to send you back to Father Garius. You can explain to him how you failed your assignment.”
“Don’t be daft.”
My blood flashed with frustration. I hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday’s meager breakfast, and I was far too tired from sleeping in a tree to find anything about this situation funny. “Push me, Oliver. We shall see just how mad I can be.”
He wisely shut his mouth.
The little thing fell silent as well when I stood over it, too terrified to make a sound now. Not a human baby, but a white fox kit. Its snowy coat stood out starkly against the dirt and gloom of the forest around it. It cowered in its den, almost hidden in the grooves of a large root. Startling green eyes watched me as it shivered in its nest. I could see its small heart beating rapidly against equally tiny ribs.
I held out my hand and it sniffed the air before lifting its muzzle again and letting out a howl of fear. I squatted down and shushed it.
“There now, wee one,” I whispered. “I mean you no harm.”
It couldn’t understand me. It was a fox after all.
