“What?” Rune, who’d been sunning himself on the bank, raised his head off his paws.
“Nothing.” I was just feeling sorry for myself. She gathered the clothes she’d scattered around the bank and dragged them into the water, scrubbing at them. She couldn’t get them really clean without soap, but at least they wouldn’t smell quite so bad. When she was done, she wrung them out and draped her long johns, wool pants, and flannel shirt over bushes. She hefted the pants, grimaced at how heavy they still were, and tried to wring more water out. Gathering wood, she started a fire, moved her clothes closer to it, and set about cooking more rabbits Rune had caught while she’d been bathing and doing laundry.
The wolf lay on the riverbank in scrub grass. He waited until she was done eating before asking, “What happened?”
Well, what did happen? She sorted through her thoughts. “I think we came within an angstrom of being trapped there. If you hadn’t gone into my mind when we were all standing outside that travesty they called a lab, we would never have gotten away. Before that, though, my astral self separated from the rest of me.” Rune opened his mouth to ask a question, but she shook her head. “Wait till I’m done. I don’t know how the separation happened. If I did it, or they forced it. Anyway, I was in some sort of long, curving tunnel, and this dragon thing was chasing me. It’s what bloodied my face. Then it tasted my blood. I thought I was dreaming, but I wasn’t. Ugh.” She shivered. The paltry warmth of the day wasn’t enough to keep a chill from marching down her spine.
Needing to do something to force her mind away from the tunnel and the dragon, she checked how dry her clothing was. Satisfied that at least her long underwear would be dry soon, she turned them over and stoked the fire.
“It was them,” the wolf offered. “The one with his claws in your hair forced your astral self out of your body. I felt it.”
That solves one riddle. “So they must have wanted me to go somewhere, but they looked surprised as hell when I told them what I’d seen.” A thought surfaced, and she stared at Rune. “Would you have had a way out of there if I’d been trapped?”
“No.”
Wish I’d known that. She opened her mouth to berate him, but then bit her tongue. Yes, he’d pushed his way onto this journey, but the truth of things was he’d saved them both. If not for him, she’d still be locked in Taltos, at the mercy of the Old Ones.
“The Old Ones were arguing right before we finally left.” Rune sounded thoughtful. “I wonder what they said and why they decided to let us go.”
“I know why.”
“You can understand them? When did that happen? When I was in your mind earlier, you couldn’t.”
She nodded. “That’s right. Something happened when I was in that tunnel.”
“Are you going to tell me?” He came to his feet and padded to where she stood.
“I suspect the dragon had something to do with why I can understand the Old Ones now.” A corner of her mouth quirked into a grin. “I’m not complaining. I’ll take my gifts where they fall. In terms of what they said to one another, apparently they cannot hold us against our will. It’s like what you told me in the crystal cave. It creates some problem with their magic to have a bunch of reluctant recruits gumming up the works. Must be why they kill everyone.”
“That’s not all.” Keen intelligence shone from the depths of Rune’s lupine eyes. “I’m waiting.”
“The thing I met up with is named Orione. The Old Ones said he could retrieve me for them anytime they want me. I really didn’t like the sound of that.”
Rune growled. “Neither do I.”
“Not much I can do about it.” She shrugged pragmatically. “I’m sure not going to hide behind wards for the rest of my life.”
“That’s eerily similar to what Marta said.” Rune blew out a whuffly growl. “Are your things dry?”
She felt them again. “Not really. They can dry the rest of the way on my body. Why?”
“Let’s walk a bit.”Aislinn shimmied into her damp long johns and dragged the wool pants over them. She tugged her faded flannel shirt over her head and slipped into her vest and jacket. She’d given up on panties and bras long ago. She blessed her woolen clothing. It was still wet, but it warmed almost immediately next to her skin. She sat in the scrub grass and pulled on wool socks, followed by her battered boots.
The sun disappeared behind a bank of clouds, almost as if it sensed she didn’t need it anymore. A stiff breeze blew her still-wet hair into her face. With a sigh, she gathered it together, fished in her rucksack for a length of leather, and tied it out of the way. “Ready.” She got to her feet and shouldered her pack. “But I want to look through that old fishing lodge first.”