Twilight at the Well of Souls

much less of a problem. We’re battling only the bugs we brought with us.”

“How are you ever going to get them to a hospital?” she wondered, feeling sorry for them.

“A group of hunters came through yesterday. They’ll carry the news to Uplake and get help. I think they can stand it here another day or two until help arrives. We’re not really into the bad country yet, so they ought to be able to get ’em down without much trouble.”

“I see. Well, I— Did you say a group of hunters came through yesterday?”

He smiled and nodded. “You been out three days. We thought we were gonna lose you. Most of your wounds aren’t really bad, nothin’ serious. It was the concussion that almost did you in. Bastard came in and hit you with a sapper.”

“A… a what?”

“Sapper. Stiff skin laced around lead shot. Damn thing can crack your skull. Don’t think it did, though —but you got a hell of a bump. Sent you into shock”

“Why… why am I trussed up like this?”

“We’ll get you unhooked if you feel up to it.” He reached over and started undoing some of the knots. “Like some of the large animals of the world that are our distant cousins, we breathe back of our underbellies. If you’re down on your side for more than a couple hours, your own weight will press down on the lungs and suffocate you. We had to get you up and keep you up—not easy, I’ll tell you. The two of us ain’t in the best shape, either, but we’re a lot better off.”

“I… I saw you take a spear…” she began.

He chuckled. “Oh, it takes a lot more’n that to get me. Didn’t hit anything vital and only hurts when I laugh. We’re just lucky they moved so fast from their home hex they didn’t have a chance to really look things up properly. All their tips were poisoned with what I guess they consider a horrible deadly toxin. Tannic acid. Maybe the next time we meet those bastards we ought to dump a pot o’ tea on each of ’em!”

She laughed, and when she did she felt all the wounds and bruises and sores she had accumulated. There were a lot of them, and over a large area, but she had had as bad or worse before and it hadn’t bothered her for long. Uncomfortable, yes, but little else.

Freed from the harness, she stood alone and tried walking out of the stall. Immediately she felt dizzy and wobbly, and had to hold on. “Guess I’m still a little weak,” she muttered to herself.

“Take it easy,” he cautioned. “That’s a nasty crack on the head. Ease into normal activity.”

She tried it again, more cautiously, and found that as long as she was holding onto something it was all right. He went up to her and let her lean on him, and together they made it out into the main room.

“Feel like you could eat something?” he asked her. “You really should.”

She looked over at the bales of strawlike material at the far side of the cabin. She didn’t really feel like eating, but decided he knew best.

The stuff tasted awful, but she found herself unable to stop once she started. Asam chuckled and told her to go ahead. “You don’t realize just how much food we Dillians need a day. Eatin’ regular like we do, that is. When you take it in at one gulp after a few days off, it can seem pretty piggy.”

Piggy wasn’t the word for it, she decided when she was finished. She went through most of a bale, a little at a time, and each bale weighed close to twenty kilos.

Later she did feel better, and managed to find a small mirror. She had double black eyes and felt like she had bitten the inside of her mouth half through, but otherwise the damage didn’t appear all that bad. The wounds on her equine back and side were painful and there was some internal bruising, but there didn’t seem to be serious damage and she felt she could live with them.

Asam, too, was as tough as his reputation. After seeing him in action, she decided she wouldn’t doubt any of his stories and legends again, and she said as much.

He grinned. “You did pretty fair yourself, you know. I don’t know too many folks, man or woman, could hold their own like that.” He looked at her and the grin faded, but only a bit. “You know, you asked me once whose side I was on. After this, you don’t have to ask any more. You understand? And not just me. Those fools did half the work for you. They slaughtered innocent Dillians in cold blood, Dillians with no politics, no positions, just good, ordinary people. I know my people, Mavra. They’ll want to get even.” He paused and smiled broadly once again. “And as for me, I’ve gotten to know you and see you in a number of different situations. I’d be proud to serve with you, any time.”

She smiled, took his hand, and squeezed it. She felt like hugging the old adventurer, but they were both too bruised for that. Still, she thought back to that dream, that bastard child of her innermost mind that had been raised by the sapper. She wished she was as certain of her side and her cause as he now seemed to be.

“So what do we do now?” he asked her. “I wouldn’t stay here much longer, if you feel like moving. There’s always the chance that they had somebody as observer, or maybe agents in Dillia will carry the news. Either way, they hit us again here as soon as they can mount another force. I’ve been uncomfortable with the idea for the past couple of days. How do you feel?”

“Lousy,” she replied glumly. “Still, what are the options?” She looked at the cabin, which had become such a hospital ward.

“We can wait for the rescue party. They should be here in the next few hours if luck holds. Remember, they had nobody to send without leavin’ Uptake without its one good healer. Probably a good, strong team came in on today’s boat or on a special and they’re on their way even now. They’d need supporting equipment, anyway, which would slow them down.”

Going back. She wanted to go back, back to the peaceful village with its ale and companionship and gentle waterfalls.

“If anybody wants to make a try at us, that’ll be the time to do it,” she pointed out. “And any observer will have a pretty good description of me now.”

“The only alternative is for us to press on,” he pointed out. “And neither of us is strong enough to carry a full load or force-march. In a few days, yes, but not now. You’re still pretty rocky, and the trail gets pretty hairy from here on.”

She went over to the table Asam had been standing at when she had come out of it. Spread out was a chart of Gedemondas, a topographic map with trails, shelters, and cabins marked. It was easy to find where they were now, the first cabin above the snow line. She studied the map, and he came over and looked over her shoulder.

“What’re you lookin’ for?” he asked.

“A collapsed volcano,” she replied. “A huge crater of some kind, high up, surrounded by high mountains.”

“Most of Gedemondas is volcanic,” he noted. “Active, too, a lot of ’em. Not very dangerous, for the most part—you could outrun a lava flow if you had to. Some of the big ones puff a lot, though.”

She nodded. “The Gedemondans live in volcanic chambers and use interconnecting lava tubes to get around beneath the surface. The network is fantastic and complex. They also use the volcanic steam for heat and primitive power—even though this is a non-tech hex, they have natural, rather than machine-generated, steam combustion. It’s comfortably warm in there, too.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Steam power? And what do they use it for?”

“I have no idea,” she told him honestly. “We heard what could have been the turning of gears and levers for some great machine, and we got the idea that there were lots of things going on there we never knew about, but we saw only what they showed us—and I was in a worse position than most to be observant. I think all the entrances are farther in, though, in the high country.”

“On some of the old and little-used trails, maybe?”

She shook her head negatively. “Uh uh. It doesn’t matter where—might as well be comfortable. We just need to be higher…” Her voice trailed off as she continued to look at the map, settling on an odd set of concentric rings, like tree rings, and an open area in the middle. “In that direction,” she told him, pointing to it. “I know they have openings into that crater from their main complex.”

He looked at the spot. “Or did have, centuries ago,” he half-muttered, worriedly.

“We go there. Easy stages. You game?”

He grinned. “You know I am. But, like it or not, I think we ought to leave tomorrow morning, not right now. We need the extra rest and healing”—she knew he referred to her—“and we ought to make sure these folks get