Vheod sighed audibly. 'I doubt there's anything more we can get from this creature.' 'Now what?' Melann asked.
Vheod turned to her, his brows furrowed in confusion. 'What do you mean?'
'I mean, what do we do with our… prisoner?' She looked to Whitlock, who still watched over the gnoll.
Whitlock raised his sword suddenly and brought the pommel down on its head. With a heavy thud, the creature's face fell to one side, and its eyes closed. Whitlock stood, brushed himself off, and walked to where the gnoll's weapon had dropped.
Picking up the club, he said 'By the time the creature wakes up we'll be long gone and won't have to worry about any others it might talk to.'
Melann sighed, turned and walked back to her horse. Whitlock heard her mutter a prayer to Chauntea under her breath, imploring her to guide them along the right path.
Whitlock lingered back to walk alongside Vheod for a moment. He recognized Vheod's surprise at their comparative leniency toward the gnoll, and knew what Vheod would have done.
He whispered tersely to Vheod., 'We don't kill prisoners here, demon,' then sped past him, going to gather his own horse.
Chapter Eleven
The travelers said little after their encounter and 'conversation' with the gnoll. That night the ground was still wet from the morning rains, so they made their camp in the driest area they could find. The top of a large hill provided a small, flat area suitable for the three of them and the two horses. Their packs offered little to eat, but none of them really seemed to care. Clouds obscured the moon and stars more than the mountains ever could, conjuring an utterly black night. Their fire provided the only light, and they kept it very small so as not to draw too much attention.
As they prepared to sleep, Whitlock took Melann aside to speak with her. They stood in the edges of shadow and light, their faces masked in darkness but their eyes sparkling from the campfire.
'I've been thinking,' he began in hushed tones, 'about our new traveling companion.'
Melann said nothing.
'What if this is all some sort of elaborate ruse? What if he's working with the gnolls for some purpose? His sudden appearance seemed awfully convenient, as did his supposed translation of what the gnoll was saying. How do we know if it really said those things?'
'I don't believe all that,' Melann told him, “not for a moment. Why go to all that trouble?'
'To keep us away from the Crypt of Chare'en, for some reason,' Whitlock whispered intently.
'Why not just kill us, if that was his intent? He's obviously powerful enough.' She shook her head, then continued, 'I just can't believe Vheod is somehow leading us into a trap or lying to us. Chauntea would never guide us into such a situation, and I still believe Chauntea is guiding us. She has to be-how else could everything that's happened be explained?' Whitlock just stared at her, working his jaw, his gaze dropping to the ground.
'I hope Vheod is wrong about the nature of Chare'en,' Melann said, 'but that doesn't mean he's going to betray us. What it comes down to is that I believe in Vheod's sincerity. I envy the strength he must have to struggle against his nature and win. I can hardly imagine what it must be like to be in conflict with your own soul, or at least a part of it! Everyone's tempted by evil-that's a part of what evil it is, after all-but his temptations must be unimaginable. You might think that makes it easy to expect the worst of Vheod, but I can only see it as a challenge worthy of the noblest of souls. Such a soul must belong to Vheod.'
'I said, you've got a point.'
'What?' Melann was shocked out of her speech by her brother. He must have spoken while she was rambling on. 'Oh, sorry.'
'I don't know why he wouldn't just try to kill us.'? Whitlock whispered, 'so well assume you're right for now, but I assure you, I'm going to be watching him. If he's plotting against us, I’ll know.'
Melann sighed in exasperation, frustration, and fear.
In the morning, Vheod awoke from a night of fitful dreams. He'd dreamed of running about in a maze of underground tunnels. No matter where he went there seemed to be no way out. He felt as though the tunnels were leading him ever onward, toward some dark fate he could see coming but could not avoid.
The sun had already risen, but still cowered behind the mountains, giving the sky a light purple glow. The clouds still loomed above and gave no hint of parting that day. The air was moist but pleasantly fragrant in a way that might take him many years to truly become accustomed to. He was willing to try, he thought with a smile.
Melann was awake, not very far away, searching through some bushes for berries or other edible plants for breakfast. Vheod wasn't hungry, but thought to offer to provide some game for a meal. He stood, preparing himself for a short hunt. Melann turned at the sound of his rising.
'Good morning,' she said, smiling. She held a small handful of red berries.
In the Abyss, plant life is twisted and evil-viper trees, clawgrass, and the blood-drinking thorns that Vheod remembered so well. Here it was pure. Vheod admired Melann's dedication to nurturing growing things. It seemed like a worthwhile purpose in life. 'Good morning,' he returned, a little awkwardly. Vheod gathered some of his things together. 'Perhaps I can add to what you have gathered there. Surely there's some small animal or bird around here that-'
'No, I'll go.' The voice came from behind Vheod. It was Whitlock. Vheod turned to see him already taking up a small crossbow he'd not seen the warrior use before. Whitlock scowled at Vheod and turned, walking out of the camp. Vheod watched him go but said nothing.
Melann walked over to Vheod, offering him some berries. 'He…' Melann began to explain, but never finished. Vheod nodded sternly.
“I know he doesn't trust me. I cannot blame him for that.'
Melann smiled, still holding up the berries. 'We've had this conversation before,' she said.
'Yes,' Vheod said, taking a berry in his long fingers and popping it into his mouth.
Melann laid the berries on a cloth on the ground and searched through their packs, probably looking for any remaining bread or cheese. Vheod wished again that he'd thought to bring along his own supplies-not for himself, but to offer to Melann and Whitlock.
Vheod looked at Melann, and watched her prepare the food. He turned to look in the direction Whitlock’s had gone, and finally back to Melann.
'Not having grown up with siblings or a family of any kind,' Vheod said, 'I can only guess at the relationship you and Whitlock share. You must care about each other very much.' He turned away, suddenly no longer able to look directly at Melann.
'I’ve never really worked with anyone or been cared for by anyone,' he continued. 'I've never encountered anyone worth caring about.'
Vheod lowered his voice to almost a whisper.' 'Melann, I want you to know I am sorry about your parents. Even though I don't believe any good can come from visiting the place where Chare'en rests, I do hope you and your brother can find another means with which to lift the curse on your family.'
'Thank you, Vheod,' she replied, looking up at him only for a moment. She added, 'We're not ready to give up.'
'I know, and I even understand. That's why I'm going with you. I want to make sure that when you discover that-as I believe-you've made an error, I can be of some help in ensuring nothing goes wrong, and Chare'en is not freed.'
Can a man trust his own feelings, Vheod thought, particularly a man whose soul is half demon? Vheod wondered how a cambion could ever truly know which half of him was guiding his actions. The fact that Chare'en was his great-grandfather, and the fact that the Taint seemed to be leading him along his current path, worried him. He couldn't share that worry with Melann, though-not yet.
Melann didn't say anything, nor had she apparently found any more food in her pack. She put the pack down with a sigh, and the sound was accompanied by a far-off cry of surprise and pain.
