The Boys of Fire and Ash (18 page)

I grabbed hold of Av's legs, while Fiver grabbed him under his arms, and we shuffled him over to the cart. The giant beast whinnied and snorted, shifting his weight and jostling the cart about. Just when I thought it wouldn't let us climb aboard, the old man held the creature's face in his hands and whispered a quiet “Shh.”

The animal stood still long enough for me to climb aboard. I reached out to Fiver, who handed me Av, and the two of us worked to haul him onto the rickety cart. He wasn't thrashing about anymore, but his eyes were closed and the orange foam still oozed from his mouth. His lips were blue and he was so still that I worried it was too late.

“Is he dead?” I whispered.

Fiver shook his head and the two of us took a seat. I held Av's head in my lap and wiped the orange from his chin. “It'll be all right, Av,” I told him. But I wasn't so sure.

The old man shouted something to us:
“Eh no ki atah yay Fendah.”

The last word hit me like a punch to the face. “Did you say Fendar?”

He didn't say anything more and reached for the saddle high atop the beast's back, and I doubted the old man's bent frame could handle the climb, but with a single push off the ground he hoisted himself atop the creature with relative ease. His body was working a thousand times better than any of ours. With a kick of his heels the animal reared and took off into the night. Towards Fendar Sticks? I didn't know. But he'd said Fendar, I was sure of it. I pressed my lips together and hoped to Rawley I'd heard the old man right.

The cart swayed and bounced as the animal sped down the road and we were knocked about violently. My head slammed against the side more than once.

I kept my hand near Av's mouth, needing to feel him breathing at all times, dreading the moment it might stop.

The rugged landscape rushed by, the giant mountains and rock formations only shadows in the darkness. The mountains were monstrous, much bigger than the Fire Mountains back home. I'd never known anything could grow to be so big. The towering peaks watched silently as we hurried, like stone guardians urging us on. An endless landscape of rock and ice.

The moon was the only light until we reached a large town. It glowed like a fire in the darkness, and the smell of it teamed with life—like animals and warm clothing, a hundred kinds of food cooking away, and smoke. The old man slowed his animal companion as we passed onto the village roads.

A group of men, no, not men. As we got closer I could see they were boys, barely older than Digger. They were all dressed the same, dark clothes with padded shoulders that made them look thicker than they really were. They waved at the old man and he stopped.

The shortest of the boys, red pocks clustered all over his chin, barked at the man in a voice that sounded too deep for him.
“Ah lu ette a hi Fendah Steex?”

I sat up. “Fendar Sticks?”

At the sound of my voice, the short one nodded to two of his friends and they hurried around the back of the cart. Their eyes went wide when they saw me and Fiver.

The boys started shouting, nothing I could understand, and they grabbed Fiver by the shoulders and hauled him out of the cart.

“Hey!” They ignored me, throwing Fiver to the ground, and I knew Fiver wouldn't be happy about it. I don't know what we did, just the sight of us seemed to have angered them. I lifted Av as gently as I could and laid him down, hurrying to help Fiver, who was scrambling to his feet and ready for a fight.

“Fiver, stop!” I told him. One of the boys grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and threw me to the ground at Fiver's feet, my palms ripping open on the dirt road.

The boy standing over me had a pistol pointed at my face, the other pointing one at Fiver. I nearly jumped when I saw what had been threaded onto the breast of their uniform above the heart—the mark. I squinted when I saw it, seeing the color was different. The mark was white, and just like Blaze, a line ran through the whole of it.

The old man was talking quickly, and the short one listened, an eyebrow cocked and lips pursed, his entire face drenched in suspicion.

“Please,” I said. “My friend, he's sick.”

I pointed at the cart, but the two boys kept their pistols held at us.

The short one strode over and grabbed Fiver by the neck, moving aside his collar and inspecting the skin. He let out a grunt. Then he bent down and grabbed me, his pointy fingers jabbing into my throat as he pulled aside my Larmy hide to have a look at my neck.

He released me, and I reached up to rub out the sting from his rough hands. Were they looking for a mark like Blaze's?

The short leader mumbled something and the two boys dropped their pistols at their sides. He moved towards the cart and looked at Av lying motionless.

“A fin do hai,”
he said to the old man, motioning for us to move on. The old man tipped his hat and waved at us to climb aboard.

I hurried over but Fiver was still facing the two boys, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Fiver,” I said. “Come on!”

He stayed there, glaring at them, and I knew all he wanted was to teach them a lesson, to show them he was stronger, but there wasn't time.

“Fiver!” I grabbed him by the shoulder. “Av needs us, let's go.”

Reluctantly he followed, and the two of us jumped aboard as the cart jerked forward, rumbling farther into town.

The brick-paved streets were lit by yellow torches, and lights from the windows of the stone buildings glowed with a warmth I could practically feel as the light hit my face.

But there were marks on this town, signs that something had come through here. The roofs on the darker houses looked eaten, like flame had chewed them into almost nothing. Some of the doors and windows were supported with beams of wood that you could tell hadn't always been there, and almost everything was scarred with the black bites that only fire leaves behind.

The old man yelled and hollered at shadowed people walking through the streets, growling at them to make way as he hurried as best he could. My heart swelled with thanks and a part of me wondered if the man had been a Brother once upon a time. Who else could be so helpful to us but one of our own?

The cart stopped and the man leaped off his beast and waddled up to a large stone dwelling, the golden glow from its windows giving us just enough light to see by. Through
the windows I could see people: men and women dancing and drinking, coming and going through a black open door. Hidden slightly to the right was a red door. The old man banged on the red door and then disappeared inside.

Av was still unconscious and Fiver and I waited nervously to see if the man would return for us.

The door stayed closed and I worried my mind had prematurely thanked the melted old man.

Just before my mind had the chance to slip into complete panic, the door burst open and our rescuer emerged with a second old man who was perfectly circular from the fat that filled out all of his angles. The two rushed over to the back of the cart and our escort pointed at Av while speaking quickly in his own language to the round man.

The fat man's eyes narrowed when he looked at Av and he reached in and grabbed his wrist. The concentration on his face was one I'd seen before and suddenly, more than ever, I began to ache for home. Then he nodded and barked commands at us that neither Fiver nor I understood before he waddled back towards the house.

Our bent friend smiled and motioned for us to come out and follow the pudgy waddler.

“What's happening?” said Fiver.

“I think the fat man is their Crow.”

Fiver's eyes lit up with comprehension and the two of us hurried to carry Av into the house, hoping this man could heal Av the way our own talented Brother would have been able to.

We struggled to the red door, which the round man held open as our bent friend mounted his Sibble Cow and drove off without a goodbye. When I got in the door the only thing to see was an incline of steps stretching up to
the second level. My chest deflated as I realized I'd have to carry him all the way up there, when a frantic wailing sounded from somewhere inside the building. Fiver and I hesitated and my stomach leaped into my throat. What on earth could make that kind of noise?

Then we saw her. An old, melted woman, of similar build and roundness to the healer, came rushing down the steps towards the door. She was wringing her hands and motioning for us to hurry inside. I couldn't tell if she was crying, but she was kicking up such a fuss that it was overwhelming me as I tried to keep my strength long enough to get Av up to the top of the dwelling.

The healer man seemed to be just as overwhelmed and shooed her back, yelling over her wails and grumbling.

The spherical couple scurried ahead of us, leading us up the stairs to a small room with a soft, cushy bed. Without needing to be told, we dropped Av carefully onto the bed and stood back, gasping for breath, to let the healer help him. He barked some orders at the old woman, who nodded and hurried away.

With fat, meaty fingers, he opened Av's right eye, then his left. Then he turned Av's head and inspected the back where the Tunrar had slammed it into the ground. Av's dark hair was crusted and matted with the dried blood, and at the sight of it my throat felt like it was closing up. The old man shook his head and made a
tsk-tsk
noise with his mouth.

Then, with his sausage fingers, he wiped the drool from Av's mouth and smelled it. He shook his head and looked at me and Fiver, speaking quickly in a deep gruff voice and waving the finger at us. He wasn't yelling, but he was serious
and urgent. I held up my hands and shook my head, hoping he'd know I didn't understand.

Fiver held out his hand and inside were a couple of the Sable Root plants that we'd kept in case we needed to give Av more. The old healer took a look and nodded thoughtfully.

He rifled through a cluttered shelf and pulled out a jar. He opened the lid and took out some dried flowers, holding them out to us. The flowers were orange and a similar size, but there was no doubt they were different from the one we'd given Av.

Just then, the woman returned, a basin of steaming water and a large cloth cradled in her pudgy arms.

The old man motioned to a small wooden table and she placed the basin down. The old man threw the petals into a cup and dunked it in the steaming water. With some kind of tool, he squished the flower and the water turned orange. The old man blew on it, then tilted Av's head back, forcing it down his throat.

Burning guilt filled my stomach. This was my fault. I'd picked the wrong flower.

The old couple spoke to each other, her face withered with concern, his knotted with concentration. She flitted something sounding like a question, and he grumbled a long answer. As he spoke her concern melted and she smiled and nodded. Then with glistening eyes she looked at Fiver, who shifted awkwardly and refused to make eye contact.

I watched as she looked him up and down, gasping when she saw his leg. Her chubby hands reached out for Fiver's gash and he jumped back, nearly knocking over the table with the water.

“
Hrmrah?
” said the old man.

She went on, pointing to Fiver's leg and covering her mouth in despair.

Fiver pressed his back against the wall and scooted over to stand behind me.

The old man squinted, trying to get a look at Fiver's leg from where he sat. “Bah!” he grumbled, and then began listing things on his fingers for the old woman.

She nodded at everything he said, her head bobbing up and down. Then the old man waved her off and she scurried over, shoving me out of her way. She grabbed Fiver by the arm.

Fiver yanked away and backed himself into the corner, like a frightened Slag Cavy. I'd never seen Fiver look so small, so helpless.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” she said. She reached up and grabbed his face in her pudgy hands and cooed. Then she took hold of his wrist and dragged him past me.

“Urgle?” he said as she pulled him out the door.

I took a step to go after him, but Av groaned and I stopped.

“Urguth,” Av said, and I crouched down beside his bed, taking his hand.

“Wawksh an' eyesh,” he said. It was the second time he'd said that.

“Av?” I tried. “I'm here.”

He groaned at the sound of my voice and after that he was quiet.

“Oh, Av, I'm so sorry.”

The old man was cleaning the wound on his head, and he smiled when he saw the worry on my face. The melting that had pulled down his skin seemed to bunch together
when he did, round lines bunching around his eyes and his mouth. It made the smile look better than a regular one somehow, like it took a lot of work to lift up all that skin, so if he was going to smile, it had to mean something for the effort.

He patted Av on the shoulder and nodded, then he patted me.

“Can you fix him?” I asked.

He reached out and tapped me twice on the nose. “Boop, boop,” he said, grinning.

A roar from Fiver exploded somewhere outside the room and there was a bang and a crash. The old man looked to the door, then back at me. He nodded for me to go.

I got up but paused in the doorway, looking back at Av and the old man working to save him.

“You really think you can?”

The old man grinned and tapped his nose twice.

I'd seen Crow work on a patient enough times to know that if the healer can grin, it must be a good sign.

I let out a long breath that I must've been holding for a while, and left the old man to his work.

I followed the sound of Fiver's growling into another room, where stone and wood adorned the walls and the furniture. A fire trapped within a little stove warmed the room, and candles lit it up with a soft glow.

“Argh! Mother seeker!” Fiver screamed.

The little old woman had him seated in a plush, cushy chair woven of colorful fabrics. She was huddled over his leg, threading a needle through the gash.