Curselock

Chapter 75: Cub

A vein in the Huntress’ temple throbbed like no other. She took her eyes off the boys for less than a week and they’d already gotten themselves into trouble. First a murderous Witch, then a city invaded by cultists. Now a weather mage of some kind on a remote island? She honestly couldn’t believe it. They were magnets for trouble, more so than any other children she knew.

She had been watching the storm grow over the last few hours, and the pure white hell it produced. The island was… unreachable, even for her. Sure, she could brave the blizzard, but she didn’t think her presence would matter very much. It was obvious the boys weren’t the target, they were just unfortunate bystanders. Or at least she thought.

If someone wanted them dead, they could simply kill them in the streets or where they slept. They were fine combatants for their age and experience, sure, but anyone with a brain could kill three gullible boys. All it would take was a pretty face or a sob story. Or simply overpowering them – the way she would do it.

So, that left the purpose of the blizzard to be something else. The Huntress pondered this as the crowd below started to gather. She was hidden on the rooftops, one of the few vantage points in Frostford to view both the town hall and the island in the distance. The mayor and a few others were discussing the blizzard and what to do.

It seemed to the Huntress that no one knew how to deal with an isolated magical storm. She might have to nudge them onto the correct path… or she didn’t. Frankly she didn’t care about this town, its people, or the Guardian Spirit Beast overseeing the area. She also didn’t care if she was officially called to help, unless Witches were involved that was.

Which, they might be.

The longer she watched the clouds twist and let loose a flurry of snow, the more she believed someone of decent power to be at fault. What to do. What to do. Soon the town would be engulfed, which could be the true objective. A parasitical staff. People killed for less, the Huntress knew from first hand experience.

She cursed at herself. She wouldn’t even be here if she hadn’t pushed the smart one to come to this town. Gah, how could she have been so foolish. Why not send them somewhere nice, somewhere with an actual beach and warm weather? Why’d she have to send them to the icy north?

The Huntress peered through the window of the building she stood on. The crowd had nearly doubled since she started paying attention to it. There were many concerned citizens and tourists. It seemed that some were saying their vacations were ruined.

She rolled her eyes at that. This was supposed to be her vacation. She had taken time off after Shoutwell and the cult to make sure the boys weren’t up to something and to rest. First she was threatened by a crow and now this? The Huntress’ vein throbbed even more.

What to do. What to do.

With a mighty huff, she slid down off her perch and hid within the growing crowd. It was easy to go unnoticed. Most were looking to the mayor, and she was used to being subtle. A true hunter could kill their target by becoming their best friend if they needed. To the Huntress, acting the part of a concerned citizen was child’s play.

She waited a few minutes, listening to the town’s woes and pleading to her Lord for an opening to speak soon. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.

After a particularly agitated man and his two children were escorted out, the Huntress took her chance with the silence. “It's magic. A spell,” was all she said.

That roused the crowd, pulling plenty more fits of rage. The mayor was instantly in the firing line and promptly was demanded to respond. He didn’t.

So the Huntress did. “An illegal spell,” she said, raising her voice to combat the horrid yelling. Her vein was throbbing even harder now. “Highly illegal.”

With that, the crowd went silent. They looked between her and the mayor. The older gentleman, Mr. Frostlung hesitated, allowing the vulture-like citizens to pounce. Calls to contact the Inquisitors were sounded within minutes, which was all the Huntress wished to do.

She slipped out of the crowd, slowly walking backwards against the crowd that lurched forward. She hung out at the back of the room just to make sure things were going to proceed the way she wanted them too.

“Is what you say true?”

The Huntress startled at the words not because she didn't know someone was standing beside her, but rather she wasn’t expecting said person to talk to her. The crowd was too enthralled with yelling at the mayor to pay attention to her, why was a young woman trying to talk to her? That wasn’t usually what happened in these sort of delicate operations.

The Huntress eyed the young woman. “Yes. Weather spells, especially snow-related ones, are illegal.”

The young woman clutched a clipboard to her chest. “Those on the island are going to be fine, right? The storm is right on them!”

Eying the child through the corner of her eye, the Huntress reminisced on why she hated socializing. So many people worry, so little people do. “Even if they weren’t, what could you do to help them? Trust me, magical blizzards are nothing to play in.”

The young woman shook her head. “I could try to signal them from the dock. Maybe some will—”

“If they wish to leave, they will. Those are adventurers out there, not children,” the Huntress rolled her eyes at her own comment. “Well, most aren’t children. Those smart enough to take shelter will, at least until the herb competition comes to an end. Adventurers always want money and shiny toys. Risking their lives is something ingrained into them.”

The last sentence was said with a snarl, one the young woman didn’t notice. “I just hope they are okay.”

That, the Huntress could agree with. At least for those special three she had decided to stalk. They were important to her, whether or not she could admit it.

Hiding under the forestry and underbrush was a small opening leading into a small cave. With only enough room for the boys to sit, their fire was horribly small. Yet, the underground tunnel was warmer inside than out in the blizzard. Without the windchill, the boys found the temperature manageable.

Even Jude was content with their rocky inn, despite there being no battle around to warm him.

Currently they shared a late dinner, the blizzard almost making them miss the meal. Their food? The large roach-like insect they followed into the cave. As it turned out, bug meat was much more palatable when charred pure black. Essentially, the exoskeleton worked as a sealed pot, boiling the internal meat in its own juices.

“I can’t believe we have to eat this,” Jude complained after taking his second helping.

Glenny rolled his eyes. “Blame Leland.”

“What the heck, Leals?” Jude laughed in a mocking tone.

“I didn’t create the blizzard,” Leland replied. “Blame that guy.”

“You did identify it to be still growing,” Glenny huffed, slurping at the bug-stew.

“True, but it wasn’t my idea to grill up the roach. That was your idea.”

“Rationing now will save us heartache later. At least, if what you say about the blizzard taking days to disperse is true.”

Leland nodded to that. “Someone is maintaining the spell, yes. I’m now sure of it. It won’t simply go away until they stop.”

Jude perked up at that. “Then we should go find them. Make them stop.” He smashed his fist into his palm.

“That’s a good way to run into an ambush. Obviously whoever is making the blizzard was prepared. What’s to say they don’t have protection?” Glenny asked. “Probably one of the competitors and their team.”

Leland pondered his friend's words. They were true, at least with the information they had to go off of. But he did wonder, just which team was it? The spiked shield and Spellsword duo came to mind first, but the Spellsword already showed his element to be lightning. Which could technically create a blizzard, if the caster really wanted to. But Leland doubted that it would be highly inefficient.

So that meant it was someone else. The image of four, completely unassuming adventurers came to mind.

Nah, he thought, continuing through the list.

Eventually dinner ended and Leland and Glenny fell asleep. Jude took first watch and sat with his back to the fire near the cave’s entrance. As he sat there, bored as could be, he began to practice. Harmonica in hand and playing so lightly the howling winds overshadowed the notes, Jude continued his mastery over the instrument.

She crawled, each paw, even the one leaking blood like a cracked bucket, pushed into the fresh snow. Her tracks were obvious, that much she knew, but she had to run. Her life depended on it. Her pursuer, while they might not kill her instantly, definitely would be the cause of her death. Through captivity or for some snobby noble’s mantle, she would die if she was caught.

She had to get home. She had to.

Mother would protect her. It was Mother’s job after all. A simple deal the very humans that sought to take their pelt.

She snarled in rage at the thought. Mother surely would have her own opinions on the matter, but not her. She knew how untrusting humans were. She saw them in a way her mother never could.

Like right now. She only ventured a few steps from her home, she was practically still in their backyard.

That was all it took to be hunted.

Still, she ran. Mother would kill those who dared enter their domain. She would, would… would…

She stopped cold. Not because of the blizzard, frozen ground, or even the poachers following closely behind.

Where…?

She spun, looking for familiarity in the forest. She had left her home while the area was still green! How was she supposed to expect everything to turn so white? She was nearby, she knew. But where? Where?

Her heart beat faster. She had never felt like this before. Mother was always there to sooth her. To sing to her. To preen with her. To… to…

Something grew within her. Something that made her loose muscles stiffen and her mind fall apart. She could admit it. She was a fool. She should have listened to her mother. She should have stayed in her home where it was safe and warm.

Mother…

A stick snapped in the distance. She turned, finding only white hail. How far were they? Was she within their view? Was she found?

What would Mother do? she asked herself, finding the answer easily.

Her mother would listen, something she had done since she gained her intelligence so many lifetimes ago. She had listened to the humans. She had heard all of the woes and pleas. She had then thought, concluding with the best course of action. Then she would react. Then she would make a move.

Standing in the blizzard the little cub craned her neck, pushing her ears toward the sound of the stick. She heard them, it was easy despite the howling wind. They were close, too close. She needed to move, she needed to run. But she also knew that would only end in her capture.

Her leg, the one with the arrow sticking through it, wouldn’t get her far. She needed to find home. She needed to listen for… for… for…

What is that? she thought hearing a nearby cry. It ebbed and flowed, rising in pitch and lowering like a bird song. Song? Is that music? Mother?

She blasted off, the pain in her leg momentarily forgotten. Mother was near! She was here! She had come out of their home to save her!

The cub pushed through the underbrush and snow. It was then she recognized where she was. Everything looked familiar! That small arching plant! That rock that looked like a face! The big broken stick with the weird barbs on it! The cave! Oh how she missed the cave and the many, many things it held! Like the glowing mushrooms further down! Or the human sitting in the entr—

Her eyes widened as her paws came to a full stop. It wasn’t her mother, in fact, it was the complete opposite.

She stared at the human as he stared back. Both looked on in shock, but then sadness overcame the human. He looked at her with such hurt in his eyes. The same look her mother had when father died.

“Oh you poor thing,” the human whispered.

He reached forward, taking her. She wanted to run, she needed to hide. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t cry. She was petrified in fear. Frozen solid like the ice her mother commanded.

Yet as the human cradled her, she began to thaw.

He was warm.