Read Final Fieretsi: Part I of the Fabula Fereganae Cycle Page 2


  Chapter II: The Lost

  The day’s end found Stefi still skirting through the trees, keeping the road to her left as a guiding hand while she made her way towards Albana. The sun was just now beginning to head towards the western horizon, and it sent long shafts of dying sunlight reaching through the trees. She still felt no closer to her own destination.

  Judging by the time she’d spent walking already, and based on the one time she actually went there, she figured Albana was still a few hours away. And with night nearly upon her she could easily lose sight of the road. Few who got lost in the Sumarana forest were heard from again, rumored to have been killed by the Furosans or some other fell beasts. She wouldn’t mind if the Furosans came for her; that would certainly save a lot of searching. But what else might be lurking out there?

  Are we nearly there? Gemmie’s question cut through her thoughts and brought her back to reality.

  “We still have some way to go, Gem-girl,” she said. “We’ll have to spend the night out here.”

  But it’s scary in the dark, Gemmie said. I wish we were back home.

  “I’m sorry, but something strange’s happening with you guys and Feregana, and I’m going to find out what it is.” Then, returning to her own thoughts, ‘But will I find out what it is? Or is this a damn waste of time?’

  When night had nearly spread its dark embrace over the world, Stefi sat down at the base of a tree and dropped her pack to the ground with a tired sigh. “We’re staying here tonight. I don’t want to get lost in the dark or anything.” She could barely see the main road. In another half hour it would vanish altogether.

  We’re still outside. Won’t we get cold?

  “Don’t worry,” Stefi said. “I’ve got this.”

  She opened her pack and pulled out the blanket she’d packed earlier. She shook it out and draped it around her shoulders like a cloak. Then she fitted both ferrets with their harnesses and tied the leads to her belt. No matter how well behaved they were, like all ferrets they were still subject to the siren song of wanderlust.

  Gemmie and Maya climbed into her lap where they quickly fell asleep. There they stirred occasionally with sleepy words. Stefi, however, found sleep to be as elusive as the source of those voices had once been. When sleep finally claimed her though, she couldn’t help feeling that somewhere, something was watching from the dark.

  Several days from Sumarana lay the town of Joven. It was a place lightly inhabited, a stopover for people passing through or a home for those involved in the burgeoning logging industry. It scarcely made a dent in the western fringes of the Sumarana Forest, and served as one last port of call before all maps of the forest went blank. The roads to the forest’s northern borders and the port town of Valraines all led along the western coast and around the forest, although once, long ago, trading routes ran straight through. But that was before the Furosan wars.

  Joven may not have been home to many, but to a young man named Sansonis, at least, it was the closest thing left. Home, oddly enough, had once been far to the east, beyond the Sumarana mountain range and in a similar patch of forest once known as Shangara. And family had been the Otsukuné, a race now gone from Feregana, a race who had keenly watched the heavens for centuries. The events of ten years past had left them nothing more than whispers and memories on the breeze.

  On the same night that Stefi slept under the stars near Albana, Sansonis’s life was about to change; another person called from home by the voice of the unknown.

  Sansonis’s boots slipped across the moonlit grass as he wandered aimlessly through the trees. Every night was the same. Sleeplessness. Nightmares. And the feeling that somewhere in the forest a voice was beckoning.

  He walked in silence, watching the ghostly dance of the two moons’ light, blue and gold, as it filtered through the whispering trees. Somewhere out of sight the Altu river bubbled and laughed away obliviously into the night. They were voices, all right, but not the one calling to him.

  After some time he stopped and looked at the night sky. Feregana’s two moons were both half-full, casting an eerie light on the sleeping world below: Rishka, the yellow moon, and Larnia, her blue sister.

  Long ago his adoptive parents had taught him about the three celestial beings who dwelt in the sky and watched over them as they woke by night and slept by day. They’d taught him how Jarahk the sun and blue Larnia had given birth to the Otsukuné, how to read the stars, and most importantly, how to look after himself. A good thing too, now that he was alone.

  A strange sound, quieter than the river or the trees, jolted him from his thoughts. Definitely not the wind whining through branches, he thought. It was too regular, too… human, a beautiful yet haunting melody like someone singing. It floated on the waves of the night breeze, teasing his ears and weaseling into his head. Definitely a song. And it sounded almost human. Almost.

  He continued, drawn to the sound as if hypnotized, where he at last happened upon a small clearing ringed with bushes. He edged his way closer and gasped at what came into view.

  In the clearing knelt a girl perhaps a few years older than himself, soaked in moonlight, her hands clasped before her chest. It was her singing that played around his ears, though set free from a tongue he couldn’t understand. Even though the words themselves meant nothing to him, they seemed to excite his senses and evoke visions of happiness, warmth… even love.

  The singing, beautiful though it was, didn’t hold his attention for long. There was something even stranger about the girl: rounded furry ears sat aside her head, and two strangely fang-like canine teeth gleamed in her mouth when the light struck them. A tail curled out behind her like a furred snake, and Sansonis knew right away that the girl was-

  “A Furosan!” He stared in wonder. “They are still here!” As far as he knew, few humans, and none of the Otsukuné, had seen one in the region for many years or knew for sure if they still even lived there. He couldn’t have known it then, but she was one of the very people a girl from Sumarana had that morning set out to find.

  After a few minutes had passed, the girl’s voice fell quiet and silence shuffled into its place. She stood up and, smoothing the wrinkles in her torn skirt, smiled contentedly to herself. Every detail on her round face appeared to shine in the light of the two moons, revealing an expression of unmistakable serenity.

  She turned and caught sight of a rather poorly hidden Sansonis as he crouched behind a bush and watched her with wide, gray eyes. Slowly, carefully, she tiptoed up to him and bent down until her face nearly touched his. She said nothing. She only smiled.

  “A-are you a Furosan?” Sansonis asked, not sure of what else to say but already knowing the answer. Perhaps a simple greeting would have sufficed, he thought later, yet when confronted with someone whose kind was rarely seen the mind refuses to think straight.

  She giggled and nodded that yes, she was.

  “What are you doing here?”

  In reply she let out a loud squeal, spun around, and sprinted across the clearing as her dirty-blonde hair streamed behind.

  “Wait!” he called to her retreating back. “Where’re you going?” But the Furosan girl either didn’t hear or chose not to. She disappeared with a crash into the trees, shouting what sounded like nonsense to Sansonis: “Kamae!”

  Then the only sound that remained was the river mocking him from the darkness.

  “Come back!” he yelled, though he already knew the Furosan was gone. But to where he had no idea.

  “Damn,” he muttered and, understanding pursuit to be pointless, turned back towards Joven. He cast one last glance over his shoulder.

  The walk home was plagued by a stubborn thought, one he couldn’t convince to leave no matter how hard he tried: what was she doing out here and where did she come from?

  And then he realized. She was the one who had been calling out to him in the night. But why?

  Stefi awoke early the next morning to the sun shining on her face and the cool morning b
reeze stirring her hair. Gemmie and Maya still lay dozing on top of her. She carefully removed their harnesses and placed them, still sleeping, on the ground.

  She stood up and stretched, easing away the aches that came with sleeping on the ground. Soon enough Gemmie and Maya sprang into action, shivering, stretching, and looking for food. Maya raced over to the pack and began searching for something to eat while Gemmie looked about in shock.

  Where are we? she said, still shivering. This doesn’t look like home.

  “We’re in the forest, remember?” Stefi said. “We’re trying to find the Furosans.”

  Oh. That’s right.

  Maya, meanwhile, pulled the packet of biscuits from Stefi’s pack and savaged it, his tail puffed up like a crude brush. He and Gemmie set about eating the spilled food.

  Stefi explored her pack for her own breakfast, one that perhaps required less attacking.

  “Ready to go?” she asked the ferrets after a small breakfast of bread. She picked them up and put them on her shoulders.

  “We should be in Albana soon,” she said, “then we’ll be able to get you some more food and hopefully some decent sleep. The ground isn’t too comfortable, but luckily for you I am.”

  As she left, what felt like a stolen gaze brushed the back of her neck. She shuddered. The ferrets, however, didn’t seem to notice.

  Stefi’s walking carried her through the rest of the morning and some of the afternoon while the ferrets napped peacefully in the crook of her arm.

  A few hours after they’d stopped for lunch, Maya jerked to life and nearly tumbled to the ground. Damn! Did you see that?

  “See what?” Her gaze darted through the trees and found nothing.

  There’s something over there! Something big!

  “Hang on,” Stefi said and tightened her pack straps. She broke into a run and burst through the trees and back onto the road. Just ahead of her the windows of a town winked with the late sunlight. Albana. She sprinted, spurred on by the promise of safety, while the ferrets clung to her.

  When she finally reached the town she fell panting to her knees, her legs burning from the effort. “Has…has it gone?” she asked the ferrets between hurried breaths as a few curious townspeople stared.

  I think so, a very shaky Gemmie said. But where are we?

  “Unless I really screwed up, we should be in Albana.”

  Indeed, an old wooden sign to her left, its letters muted by moss, read: “Welcome to Albana.”

  By now day had slipped into mid-afternoon, and exhaustion born from a whole day of walking and a sudden run seized her muscles.

  As she headed into the shady streets of Albana she noticed a small, channeled stream, almost like a miniature canal, flowing alongside the road. It carried with it memories of the natural streams she so loved at home, adding a sense of familiarity that soothed her nerves. Curious, she followed it and came to a small square with a fountain in the shape of a fish sputtering water from its upturned mouth. The weathered, neglected thing had once represented the town’s booming fishing industry. But that was before the famed Albana trout had been fished to extinction. Now it was little more than a reminder of a past–and species–lost forever.

  “It’s quite relaxing here,” she said, captivated by the shimmering shards of sunlight the water splashed across the trees.

  Albana was quite different from Sumarana, she soon noticed, and not because it sat just inside the forest beneath the shade of the surrounding trees. Many of its houses were so run down they looked on the verge of being reclaimed by the forest, and rotting nets still hung outside some like tattered cobwebs.

  Even though it was perhaps the closest town to Sumarana, Riam and Bandārun further south aside, she had only traveled there once before as a child, when the place still thrived. Apart from that one trip she’d never really found any reason to leave home. Until now.

  She made her way past the fountain to a two-story building set alongside the town’s paved square. A peeling sign above the double doors informed her it was an inn. As good a place as any to stay, she thought. With some trepidation, she opened the door and headed for the main counter. A few people sat at tables around the dimly lit bar area, smoking and drinking in odorous, murmuring clusters like dirty hills huddled beneath a fog.

  A voice from behind startled her as she looked about. “Yo, can I help?”

  She wheeled around and came face to face with a woman several years older than herself.

  “Yo?” the woman repeated. Her facial features were nearly as sharp as the knife she was casually sharpening, and her eyes were just as steely.

  “Oh,” Stefi said as her voice returned. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking.” She pulled her gaze away from the woman’s knife as it danced mesmerizingly across a whetstone, a sight both cruel and curious at the same time. “Do you have a room I could stay in tonight? Just a small one will do. I hope this is enough.” She pulled some gold coins, part of her life savings hoarded with ferret-like care, from her pocket and held them out.

  “Sure.” The woman plucked three of the smaller ones from Stefi’s palm. She pocketed the stone. “This way, then.” For some reason she didn’t question why a teenage girl was staying in a musty old inn by herself. Stefi couldn’t help but wonder why, and why she was still holding the knife, one moment running her lean fingers along the blade, the next casually twirling it with amazing dexterity.

  She hurried from behind the counter and towards a flight of stairs as Stefi struggled to keep up. At the top of the stairs she reached into her pocket and pulled out a bundle of keys. She found the one she was looking for and at the end of a narrow hall opened the door to a small room.

  “I hope this is all right,” she said and smiled for the first time. “I know it isn’t much, but it’s all to yourself. Us girls need our privacy, yeah?”

  “Thanks,” Stefi said, quite touched. Somehow the woman didn’t seem so severe anymore. Just very tired. And sad. The dark shadows underlining her eyes only served to make her seem more so.

  As the woman turned to leave she hesitated for a moment. “Just don’t let those little weasels of yours make a mess everywhere, okay? Boss’d kill me.” She sighed, further confirming Stefi’s suspicions that something was wrong. “Probably literally, too.”

  We aren’t weasels! Maya called to her retreating back.

  But she didn’t hear. She only left them alone as she eased the door shut behind her. Her extended arm flashed an ugly purple bruise beneath her sleeve.

  It wasn’t a very big room, Stefi saw, only slightly larger than her old room back home. A single bed sat up against one wall and a table and hand basin opposite. A grimy window peered out across a courtyard and caught the last of the afternoon sun as it disappeared behind the forest. There was a small open fireplace in one corner, complete with kindling and a box of sulfur matches.

  Stefi placed the two ferrets on the bed and lit the fire. In a couple of minutes she had a warm blaze going and sprawled on the rug in front of it. “Hey, you two,” she called to the ferrets. “Come here and keep warm.”

  Gemmie and Maya slid off the bed and wandered over to Stefi.

  What is this place? Gemmie said as she glanced about. It’s not as nice as home.

  “I know,” Stefi said and stared into the flames, “but it’ll have to do. Besides, it’s just for one night. Then we’ll keep looking for the Furosans.”

  She began to wonder if running off to look for a deeply reclusive race had been the smartest thing to do. Perhaps she could have asked for help, seen if anyone about Sumarana knew anything. But then questions would be asked, suspicions aroused. And if it was discovered she was told to find the Furosans by her ferrets…

  Her thoughts dissipated as a loud knock shook the door.

  “Who is it?” she called instinctively before realizing it could only be one person.

  The inn-keeping woman entered, skillfully balancing a tray bearing sandwiches and a jug of water, along with a bowl of
mince, in her free hand. “Thought you and the weasels could do with some food,” she said. Her smile was forced but kind, her eyes alight with understanding. “I know it’s not easy running away.”

  “Thanks,” Stefi said. Then hoping to avoid any further questions about her running off, “And they’re ferrets.”

  “Oh.” The woman placed the tray on the table. In the dim light of the fire her features seemed warmer, kinder, softened by the flickering flames. “Then you must’ve heard about them Furosan lot? They’re meant to be ferret-like or somethin’.”

  “Yes!” Excitement bubbled within Stefi. Perhaps this woman had seen them somewhere, or heard something, working in a place like this.

  “Then maybe you’ve heard some reckon they’ve seen one over near Joven lately.” The woman sat on the bed and, crossing her legs, took a sandwich. “Sounds like a load of drunken rambling to me, but you can’t really tell, can you?” An uneasy laugh followed. It was soon silenced by a mouthful of food.

  “Really?” Stefi sat up and clutched the ferrets close. “When was this?”

  She swallowed. “Some time this morning. One of the regular caravanners who runs supplies and… supplies… for Boss mentioned it. But I wouldn’t get myself too excited if I were you. They reckon they’re gonna go out and catch it, you know, see where it came from. Church has put quite the reward on its head, too. They’re considered impure by Kardin these days, after all. Been kinda tempted to go after it myself.”

  “That’s awful!” Stefi nearly shouted, though she checked the rising anger in her voice. Perhaps that’s why she had been sharpening that knife... “They’re living things too!”

  The woman shrugged. “I know it’s wrong, but the thing could be a ticket to a better life for a lotta people around here where there’re stuff-all jobs.” Her gaze played on the ground, deliberately avoiding Stefi’s. “With the reward I could get outta this dump, buy myself a ticket to Sol-Acrima and really live it up. Maybe even open my own bar somewhere.” She unsheathed the knife she’d been sharpening and fingered it again. “Jus’ don’t think I could handle the guilt, though. Or its ferocity.” She closed her eyes and slipped the knife back into its scabbard. “Poor girl can’t be much older than you, from what I heard. I guess she ran away, too.” She sniffed.

  “Oh, s-s-sorry,” the woman stammered after an awkward silence had filled the room. “Forgive me!” She left, but not before adding in a choked voice, “You need anything, just come down and ask for Savana, all right?”

  Stefi turned to the ferrets. “Did you hear that? A Furosan near Joven! And people trying to catch it too!”

  They’re probably just fierce because people try to hurt them, Gemmie said. I don’t think they’ll be that bad. We ferrets are nice, but poke us hard enough and we bite.

  “I sure hope they’re nice.” Stefi stood up, fetched the tray, and returned to her spot by the fire. “Here’s something for you two.” She placed the bowl of mince on the floor. But she barely touched her own food. Something else was bothering her that overrode even her hunger. One of the Furosans, one of the people she’d been looking for, had been seen nearby and now people were trying to catch it, perhaps even kill it, spurred on by money. And if they succeeded, she might lose her chance… Either she had to find the Furosan first, or pray no one else did. She wasn’t a praying person, had only really prayed once in her life. So that left just one option.

  She fell asleep in front in front of the fire’s warm glow and dreamed nothing that night.

  The next morning Stefi found the fire dead and the ferrets curled together on the bed. She stood up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and jumped beside them.

  Gemmie and Maya, propelled into the air by her landing, woke with a start and shivered in the cold light that came through the window.

  “C’mon, you two, we’re leaving,” she said and went to get the last sandwiche left over from the night before. “I’ll just get something to…”

  The tray was empty except for a few crumbs. Of course. While she had slept, the ferrets hadn’t.

  “Where is it?” She scowled and advanced on the bed.

  Maya scooted backwards until a shapeless pillow stopped his retreat. I got hungry during the night, that’s all…

  “You can’t have eaten the whole thing!”

  We stashed it, Gemmie said. I’m sorry.

  Stefi sighed. “Of course you did.” She shouldered her pack and placed the empty tray beside the door, deciding to leave the sandwich where it was for some unlucky person to find by smell. From experience she knew it would be hidden so well it could take ages to find. That, and asking a ferret the location of its stash was perhaps the biggest no-no in their etiquette. Right after calling them weasels.

  “Did you sleep well, love?” Savana asked as Stefi descended the stairs with ferrets in hand.

  “Yes, thanks.” Then skipping the pleasantries, “You haven’t heard anything else about that Furosan person near Joven, have you?”

  “No more, sorry, love,” Savana said. She smiled brightly despite sporting an unmistakable black eye. “You might want to hurry if you’re heading that way, though. It’s quite a walk, but all you need to do is follow the main road north and you should make it there soon enough. There’s jus’ the one road. Easy as. Jus’ don’t go wandering.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” she said with a slight bow. “I’d better be going.” Then, without quite knowing why, she added, “Good luck.” With that she placed Gemmie and Maya on her shoulders and wandered outside, trying her hardest to ignore the tears welling in Savana’s eyes.

  The road she sought was obvious enough; a helpful sign even told her that Joven lay that way. A quick search revealed a dirt track leading through the forest parallel to but just out of sight of the main road as it continued northwards, flanked on both sides by tall trees. She hesitated. Even some distance from home the possibility of being seen by someone she knew remained, however remote. And if that happened, chances were she’d be sent back to Sumarana and made to explain what on Feregana she was up to. No, until the Furosans were found she’d remain out of sight of the road as much as she could.

  The moment Stefi entered the cool shadows of the forest an odd sensation pricked the back of her neck. She shivered.

  Do you feel that, Stefi? Gemmie asked with a shaky voice. Something’s watching us!

  A low growl emanated from the trees as if in reply to Gemmie. Stefi reached to her belt and felt for the knife there. She gripped the handle so tightly that her fingers went pale. “Who’s there?” she called more bravely than she felt and broke into a jog.

  Another growl was the only reply.

  She had no idea what things other than the Furosans or dog-like Otsukuné might lurk in the forest away from her home, and an over-active imagination certainly didn’t help the situation. The Otsukuné were killed off by humans years before, but none were still supposed to be around, were they? What if one was still there, just waiting to take revenge and kill her? And not just her, but the ferrets too?

  She stopped, her legs trembling too much with fear to carry her any further.

  The low bushes to her right parted, withering as they did so, and a creature that looked as if it was made of tattered night stepped onto the path. It gave off the appearance of a dog, yet the cloying smell of something long dead in the ground. With a metallic growl that grated in its throat it padded towards Stefi and the ferrets, in no hurry to leap or attack. Its flesh hung like torn clothing, revealing the stark-white bone beneath. It trained its empty eye sockets upon Stefi’s eyes and bared its blackened teeth.

  “Oh, great,” Stefi muttered, “it’s over before it’s even started.”

  A sudden howl echoed through the forest, piercing even the thickest woods. Not a howl of the hunt, her panicking mind thought, but a warning. An intimidation. The undergrowth behind her exploded in a shower of leaves and twigs, and she wheeled about just as a glowing blur of brown and blue streaked over her head like a dyin
g star. She closed her eyes and hit the ground, holding the ferrets close.

  She finally forced herself to look and beheld a melee of black and brown, a violent cyclone of claws and blood. Only barely could she make out her savior, yet another dog-like creature drawing dark blood with every heavy slash of its cat-like claws.

  With one final blow the russet creature slammed its massive paw on the shadow-dog’s head and crushed its skull with a series of sickening cracks that made Stefi wince. The shadow-dog, or whatever the thing was, lay dead. Deader than before, she thought with a shudder.

  What’s happening? Gemmie asked. She was shaking nearly as much as Stefi. Are we going to get eaten?

  “I don’t know.” Stefi’s voice came out muffled by the terror in her throat as she drew herself into a sitting position. The rust-colored creature padded towards her. The shadow-dog’s dark blood was still splattered across its paws, and the musty smell of the grave hung in the air. Whether that was its natural smell or the other creature’s, she couldn’t tell.

  “What did you just say?” it asked in a hoarse, rasping voice, sounding much like a seasoned smoker. It sat down and tended to its scratches with its tongue.

  “I-I…” she stammered. “Are you going to kill us?”

  “No, no, you are too important to kill. You must live,” it said and turned its attention back to Stefi. “After all, I would not kill you after having just saved your life, would I?”

  “What do you mean?” Stefi asked. “Why did you save us?”

  Gemmie and Maya emerged from the warm embrace of Stefi’s arms to stare at the beast before them. Now that it sat still, Stefi could better see just what it was. It reminded her of a mongrel collie-dog her neighbors had once owned, only with fur the color of rust and dried blood. An ancient scar zigzagged across the creature’s right side and down its flank, revealing twilight-blue skin beneath. Strangest of all it seemed to emit an ethereal glow, much like that of Feregana’s blue moon, though it was barely discernible in the forest’s subdued light. Both it and the dead creature were missing a canine tooth, she saw; perhaps they’d been knocked out in the fighting.

  What is that thing? Maya asked. And what happened to that black dog?

  Stefi ignored him and it simply said, “Why would I not save someone in distress?”

  She didn’t know what to make of its response so she shrugged. “What was that… that thing?” she asked, feeling rude that she hadn’t yet thanked it properly. Only now did the strength begin to return to her body as her adrenaline ebbed away.

  “A Dazrhug, a terrible being born of death. I have encountered them before, though I did not expect to see one so far west from Fractured Heaven as this. As for myself, I am Rhaka, an Otsukuné of Shangara and perhaps the only one yet remaining on this Side.”

  Stefi gasped. “Wait a minute. Otsukuné?”

  “Assuredly so. Your sense of hearing does not deceive you.”

  “Why aren’t you dead like all the others?”

  “Fate decided to spare me. The stars told me I was not meant to die the day the others did. I remain behind for some other purpose, and you, it seems, are a part of that. As soon as I laid eyes on you I felt drawn towards you; I just needed an opportune time to reveal myself. And,” he added, baring his teeth in what Stefi took to be a grin, “I always liked to make a memorable entrance.”

  “Whoa! What you’re saying sounds way beyond me.”

  “It may be beyond all of us. Something terrible is descending on this world.”

  That’s what I’ve been saying! Maya whooped in Stefi’s head. He knows about it too!

  Rhaka approached and sniffed the tiny animals. He barely avoided a nipped nose from Maya when he got too close. “Are those your ferrets?” he asked as he backed away.

  “Yes. You might think I’m weird, but I can understand what they say. I just hear them in my head.” She didn’t know why she told the creature something she had never told another. It just felt right somehow. That, and she doubted things could get much stranger than a glowing, talking dog.

  At her words Rhaka stiffened and his black eyes locked upon Stefi’s. “Then my suspicions were correct.”

  She stood up. “About what?”

  “You are one of the Fieretka. The Fieretsi, even.”

  “And those words mean…?”

  “Then you really do not know. It is said that, throughout history, the Fieretka, a group of Feregana’s divided races, come together when the world is in need. One of them holds the power to communicate with beings of pure Furosa. That individual is the Fieretsi, or the ferret-speaker in the first Furosan tongue. Do you know the significance of ferrets in this world?”

  “No, not really.” Sure, the furry things were important to her, but were small, unassuming animals, even ones thought to be some sort of nature spirits, really that important to the whole world?

  “They are what keep this world alive. Feregana, like you and your ferrets, is a living entity. Simply put, ferrets are like its blood. They are the physical manifestation of Furosa, its life force. If they die, the world, and everyone else, perishes with them. But only someone like you is able to talk to them, and Feregana itself, to find a way to prevent that from transpiring.”

  “Back up a moment. What is going to happen?”

  “That is what we need to find out. You are undoubtedly looking for the Furosans, are you not? Why else would you be wandering the forest alone?”

  “Yeah. Gemmie and Maya, they’re my ferrets, said something was happening to them. The thing is, I have no idea where to find them.” She shook her head.

  “I can aid you in your search for them, but first I need to find someone important to me. You can help. Think of it as repayment for saving your life.”

  “Sure,” Stefi said with a shrug. “I guess I owe you one. Who is it?”

  “Sansonis. My son.”

  “Your son? But you said the others are dead!”

  “He is not an Otsukuné, at least not in body. He is a human. The story is long, and I have neither the recollection nor wherewithal to tell it right now. For now we ought get moving if you do not want to spend another night in the forest. I hear tell he is in Joven, the next town along this road. Will you help me?”

  “Of course!” If she helped Rhaka find his son, then perhaps they could all look for the Furosans together. The more people she had with her, the easier the journey would be, she reasoned. And the Otsukuné was certainly more protection than an old kitchen knife.

  Without another word she cast a last glance at the dead Dazrhug and headed towards Joven with Rhaka, the Otsukuné with the shimmering aura, close behind.