Freesoul’s departure angers me, although why, I don’t know. Why do I care? Why not just let him walk out of my life like everyone else does? But I need to know...he’s a shapeshifter like me. Maybe, just maybe, he can help me some. I need to know that I’m not alone.
After he leaves, I exit the room as well, putting the pendant on its leather cord around my neck, and tucking the pouch of coins into my clothes. It’s easy to find out where he’s gone, and I trail him from well behind. He never notices; I learned my lessons on stealth well.
After exiting the town, he pauses for a long while before deciding to move west, toward the mountains. Now I know he was lying. There aren’t any friends he plans to meet up with; no caravan to join; he has nowhere to go. And he knows it. Liar, I think angrily to myself. I follow him that day, and shift to a hunter cat to sleep, staying near his small campsite.
The routine continues for two more days, and I grow impatient. Doesn’t he have any idea of where he’s going? But I don’t want him to know I follow, so I force myself to wait. At last, something happens.
It’s night, and Freesoul is deeply asleep. I’ve climbed a tree and curled up in the branches, and doze lightly. A sense of...of wrongness prickles at me, and I can’t rest, not completely. Something’s going to happen, and I don’t think it’ll be good.
Sometimes, I hate it when I’m right.
An hour or two after midnight, I hear a rustling in the bushes. Drowsy and longing for sleep, I don’t realize what’s going on until it’s too late. Neither does Freesoul. A small party of bandits (six? seven?) suddenly springs out, and before either of us can react, they knock Freesoul unconscious, then produce chains from a bag and lock them around his wrists. Two of them lift him up, and the party leaves. I sit, crouched on the tree branch, shaking. This wasn’t supposed to happen! It was too fast! What am I supposed to do now?
A foolhardy idea springs into my head: rescue him. What? That’s madness. Me, against seven well-armed, experienced bandits? No. But I can’t just leave him there. Something in me tells me I have to help him. And you wanted to know his story, I remind myself. I shift back into human form, and reluctantly follow the trail.
The tracks lead to a cave, well-hidden in a hillside. The faint light of a fire can be seen, and the sounds of talking and laughter as well. Both voices and laughter sound coarse and cruel. I debate what to do for several long minutes, and at last decide to wait until things quiet down a bit, then just take it one step at a time from their. Keeping an eye on the cave mouth, I settle down in a patch of scrubby trees and wait.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long. After an hour or so, the light fades slightly, and the voices quiet. Despite my weariness, I shift into a fox, and follow the narrow trail up to the cave.
One sentry is posted outside, but, judging by his snores and the reek of cheap ale on his breath, he poses no threat. I slip past him, into the cave itself. Luck seems to be with me. None of the other men are awake, and I can see Freesoul’s limp form in a corner, although I wonder for a brief moment how I was able to pick him out so easily. I creep over to his side and shift back to human form. So much shape-changing is taking its toll, however; my hands shake slightly as I remove a narrow piece of metal from my shirt and set to work on the lock. As I struggle with the rusty thing, I wonder how I’m going to get Freesoul out of here if he doesn’t wake up.
Fortunately, I don’t have to worry. As I cautiously remove the manacle from one wrist, his eyes blink open. I breathe a silent sigh of relief and reach for his other wrist, but he pulls away.
“What are you doing here?” he demands in a fierce whisper. At least he has the brains to stay quiet.
“What does it look like?” I snap. “Let me at that thing.” He reluctantly holds out his other hand, and I set to work on the lock.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he scolds me. “It’s too dangerous.”
Yeah, and running from demons isn’t. I stifle the urge to snort derisively. “This is nothing. Just remember,” I grimace as I strive to open the lock, “you owe me now.”
“I do not!” he begins, a bit louder. I clap a hand over his mouth, and one of the bandits stirs and mutters in his sleep. I shoot Freesoul an angry look.
“Just because you don’t want me to save your sorry skin doesn’t mean you have to get me in trouble, too,” I snap, as the lock clicks open. He rubs his wrists, frowning at me, and I glare back. “Come on!” I hiss. “I can’t waste my time like this!” I stand, tugging at his arm, and he slowly rises with me.
“Why did you come?” he asks, as we carefully pick our way out.
I try to concentrate on controlling my trembling hands. “This isn’t the time or the place, in case you haven’t noticed,” I reply, stepping out into the darkness. Freesoul follows, and steps on the hand of the dozing sentry. The man jerks awake with a yelp.
“Hey! Don’ do that!” he slurs, peering at us. I bolt, dragging Freesoul with me, and as we run down the hillside, I can hear the man yelling for the others to wake up, wake up, the prisoner’s escaping, and there’s some girl with him! We reach the cover of the woods safely, though, and Freesoul stops.
“What is it?” I demand, impatient to put as much distance between us and the bandits as quickly as possible.
“Why are you here?” he asks insistently.
“Oh, by the gods, Freesoul, we need to get out of here! I’d like to keep myself intact!” He reluctantly starts running again, but too late. One of the faster men has caught up with us, and he manages to grab my arm as I try to twist away from him.
Freesoul doesn’t realize anything has happened until I yelp out a demand for help, but he’s too far away. The man reaches for a knife, and, out of fear and desperation, a dagger slips to my fingers, and, with an incoherent cry, I bury it to the hilt in his chest. His eyes widen briefly with surprise, and he sighs his last breath has he slides down. I hold my bloody dagger in nerveless fingers, and don’t move until Freesoul jerks my arm.
“Come on, Rois!” he hisses, and slowly, I turn, and run, following him through the gloom. I killed him. Run. Faster. I killed a man. I gasp for breath, feeling sick to my stomach, and my whole body shakes. I killed a human. Freesoul glances back over his shoulder at me every so often, his expression anxious. I killed him! I am a murderer! I can’t shake off the feeling of horror. I can’t forget the way he looked as he drew his last breath. I can’t get it out of my head...
I don’t know how long we run. It seems like forever. When we stop, Freesoul is scarcely breathing hard, but my breath comes in burning gasps, and I tremble like a leaf. I feel sick to my stomach, and so tired...so tired.
“Rois?” asks Freesoul, worried. “What’s wrong?” I shake my head and begin to reply, but I can’t seem to see straight. I drop to a sitting position on the ground, struggling to breathe. Freesoul drops to his knees beside me, and starts to say something, but I can’t hear him...everything spins, and turns black, and with a weary little sigh, I resign myself to unconsciousness.