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Rated: 13+ · Serial · Fantasy · #1759064
Charmian learns more than one dark secret about her new acquaintances...
Main story folder & table of contents: "Escape From Manitou IslandOpen in new Window.
Previous chapter: "Part 103: Unsafe PassageOpen in new Window.



PART ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR:
An Ice Twist


"PATHETIC BRAT!" STANDS Somewhere snarled, and when his lip curled back Charmian saw his teeth, as sharp and pointed as those of a wolf.

She blinked, then gasped and jerked on her hand. He held her fast, his fingers gouging into hers, and his mouth immediately split into a ghastly grin full of jagged pointed teeth. His eyes flashed yellow and she felt all of the blood drain from her face.

"Stands!" she yelped. "What--you're--!"

He let out an awful hissing noise that might have been a laugh. "How pathetic can one person get--?" he snapped, his voice as ugly as his face had become; even though he was the exact same person with whom she'd traveled up the mountain, he seemed different now, changed, his features sharper and bonier, all jutting angles which seemed strangely wrong. She glanced down at her hand as she tried futilely to pull free and saw that his fingernails were in fact claws, and they were digging into her hand hard enough to bleed. She bared her teeth and started dancing around him in circles, but he held tight, following her motions and grinning like mad.

"Some challenge!" he exclaimed. "To come walking into the camp like you own the place--? A little brat girl like you! 'I've learned a few things'--? I'd suggest you learn more if I had any reason to suspect you'd LIVE long enough--!"

"What the hell is this?!" Charmian yelled, still pulling as hard as she could. "YOU'RE the Wendigo--?"

"Whittiko," Stands Somewhere corrected her, still grinning from ear to ear. "I still can't believe how incredibly IDIOTIC you are! You walked RIGHT up here all on your own--I didn't even have to drag you--right into the dead end and right into a trap! I could have crushed your skull in twenty times over if I didn't consider THIS more fun!" His ghastly smile grew and he pulled her closer so they were nose to nose, and her eyes grew as wide and round as moons. "You even gave me all the information I need! EVERYTHING I need to know to kill off those stupid friends of yours and make a feast of the entire camp! Now that I know that neither of those Whittikos of yours poses any threat, nor that washed-up wabano, and the REST, well...here's hoping they're as gullible as YOU are!" She gasped and pulled back, prying at his fingers. "Yet you didn't even listen to ONE word that I said--how idiotic that they elected YOU their leader!" And he started cackling madly, the noise fit to put Augwak's laughter to shame.

"Let go of me!!" Charmian yelled.

Stands Somewhere made a scoffing noise. "And what--? You'll try to burn me to death?" Another laugh when Charmian's eyes grew again. "That's right--see if you can pull that little TRICK you learned! Go ahead!" Charmian started straining her fingers, but nothing happened. "That's right! As long as I'm holding onto you, you can't! No fire--poor you!" He lifted something in his other hand and Charmian gawked at the sight of the bit of moss that he'd pulled off the rock and pressed to her injured knee; she could see faint traces of red on it, and his grin grew nasty. "You left a little something behind, might I add!" he said. "It's really quite easy to keep hold over somebody when they practically put themselves in your hands!" He held up the bit of moss and sniffed at it, smirking. "Though I have to admit, I did take a tiny taste--and I'm betting you're as delicious as you are STUPID!"

NEVER give a part of yourself away! Moon Wolf's voice shouted in her mind, and Charmian started panicking now, alternating between trying to yank herself free and trying to grab the hunk of moss. "LET GO!!" she screamed, unable to think of anything else to say.

Stands Somewhere drew back a bit but still didn't let loose his iron grip; she grimaced and wriggled her fingers, which were throbbing now from pain and cold. "You know, it's been so long since I've had a decent meal--having to walk around with those idiots every day, pretend to be one of them, all simpering and mewling and pathetic...have you any idea how it is to pretend to be so damned WEAK when dinner is practically walking all around you--? It's fine and good slipping away and waiting for one to wander off now and then so you can snap their neck and suck their blood and stuff yourself on their insides--but it gets tiresome waiting and waiting." His teeth glinted like knives and he raised the hand with the moss, claws extending. "I also never had the chance to prepare a meal as I feel most fit--tearing it to ribbons, first off--though now that that entire camp is practically mine, I think I can make an exception. None of them liked you anyway!" And he threw back his head and let out another harsh, echoing laugh, dragging Charmian toward him at the same time. Her mouth flew open and she threw up her free hand, but no fire came to her fingers, and she steeled herself for the first bite.

She didn't get the chance to shut her eyes, which was just as well, as then she wouldn't have had any idea of what happened next. Stands Somewhere kept dragging her forward until Charmian heard a dull whump sound, and his laughter abruptly cut off, his eyes going wide and his smile vanishing. A split second later, it was as if his chest blew open--Charmian gasped when a fireball shot out of him, brilliant and blinding and flaring every which way. Stands Somewhere had just enough time to blink at it uncomprehendingly before it was surrounding him, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream as Charmian at last yanked herself free and tumbled behind a rock just to escape the onslaught, throwing her arms over her head. She crouched and watched with her teeth clenched and tears springing to her eyes as the fire enveloped every bit of him, his scream rising into a piercing shriek as he flailed around, now seemingly made of the fire. Charmian had to plug her ears, the noise was so awful--then after a moment or two Stands Somewhere halted in place--and just like that, as abruptly as it had appeared, the fire was gone, and nothing stood there but a black statue with its arms upraised.

Charmian blinked at it. It took her a second or two to realize that it was not in fact a statue after all. Her lips curled back and she grimaced and started whimpering; Stands Somewhere had been charred to a crisp, all of his features unrecognizable, as if he'd been frozen that way after being dipped in tar and ashes. Charmian tried to fight down the scream rising in her throat when movement behind him made her eyes goggle wide, and she finally did scream when a stout figure came stomping forward, the malevolent eyes of the old woman from the camp fixing straight on hers.

Charmian scrambled to the other side of the rock, holding up her hand--little flames appeared above it now--but the old woman merely scowled at her so harshly that she ducked. She turned to look at Stands Somewhere, and then reached out and hit his arm. It broke off, but at the same time he tumbled to the ground, landing on his back. The old woman raised her foot and brought it down on his head with an awful crispy cracking sound. Fragments of skull pattered across the ground and Charmian wailed again.

The old woman stooped down and plunged her hand into the corpse's chest, yanking something out with another awful crunching noise. Charmian had to gnaw on her lip to avoid throwing up; she ended up blinking tearily, confused, seeing the old woman standing up straight again with something clasped in her hand. She peered at it with a frown, dusted some cinders off of her arm, and then came stomping back toward Charmian. Charmian quailed and flung up her hand. "F-f-fire!!" she yelled, forgetting that she didn't have to call on it.

The old woman reached out and batted the flames right off of her fingers, just like putting out a candle. Charmian gawked at her hand, then back at the old woman. In response she held out what she was holding, and Charmian saw something small and black in her fingers. Her brow furrowed.

"His--his--spirit stone--?" she stammered. Her eyes grew. It looked more like a piece of coal than a glowing spirit stone; it was murky black with the faintest traces of murky red, glittering like obsidian but not glowing in the least. Before Charmian could think, the old woman pressed it against the back of her hand and she gasped and jerked away, trying to rub away the icy-cold sting. She met the woman's eyes.

"His spirit stone looks like that--?" she blurted out. "He's the Whittiko--?"

"You mean you honestly couldn't tell?" the old woman snapped, and clenched the stone in her fist. Now Charmian began to remember what had just happened, and gasped and scrambled back again, holding up her hand.

"You threw that fireball!" she cried. "You ARE a wabano!!"

The old woman snorted in disgust. "I damned well better be, to deal with nuisances like THIS!" She stormed forward and had grabbed onto Charmian's arm before she could get away; Charmian yelped as she was dragged to her feet, but all that the woman did was turn her around somewhat roughly and look her over. She examined Charmian's knee in particular, making faces as she did so. "D'he bite you at all? Wound you, anything?"

"Wh--what?" Charmian exclaimed, then pulled herself loose. "No! He didn't BITE me! I skinned my knee on the rocks! He put moss on it--" She sucked in a breath and hurried toward the charred remains, grimacing as she poked around at them. "He was holding it!! I can't find it!"

The old woman snorted again and joined her. "Think anything'd survive that fire, girlie? If he was holding it, then it's definitely ashes by now. Consider yourself lucky." A dark look. "One should know better than to EVER give a part of themselves away."

Charmian let out her breath and stared at her. "You...then you didn't come up here to kill me...?" she asked.

The old woman looked disgusted again. "What point would that serve? Just a waste of medicine! It's just like the fool said--you already gave away all your secrets--I could go back down and take care of all your friends by now if I wanted to!" When Charmian started to tense up she kicked at the remains and scattered them further. "Like I have any desire to! I came to take care of this twit!"

"How did you know?" Charmian asked, confused. "How did you know to follow us?"

"It was easy to anyone with two eyes," the old woman replied. She pulled open a pouch and stuck the spirit stone inside it. "For one thing, the mere fact that he decided to help you out in the first place. Stands was always one of the laziest boys in the camp! No way he would have EVER gone to such lengths just to help a total stranger as suspicious as yourself!" She cinched the pouch shut and dusted her hands as if they'd been soiled. "For another thing, his family was killed by a Whittiko!"

"I thought that was a reason to PITY him!" Charmian exclaimed.

Another snort. "You obviously need to learn your way around here, girlie! Take a look!" She gestured at the corpse. "A Whittiko's best defense is to earn everyone's trust. How else do they slaughter entire camps? I always found it strange that Stands survived when none of the others did. Or rather, that he didn't survive!"

Charmian's confusion grew. "What do you mean--? I thought THAT was him!!"

"Think of it this way, girlie," the old woman said. "A leech attaches itself to you, and you go mad trying to pull it off. Making more sense now?"

Charmian stared at her for a long moment. Then she looked down at the body again. "You mean...that's...that's not him? It's a parasite--?"

The old woman pursed her lips. "More like, it WAS him...once."

Charmian's grimace slowly returned and she edged away from the body. "You mean--he killed and ate his own family?" she cried in disbelief, shuddering.

The old woman gave a curt nod. "Not that he was in his right mind anymore--that Whittiko fully took care of that! Stands Somewhere died the moment that beast made its way into his lodge." She gave Charmian a fixed look. "NOW you get it? What exactly we have to deal with here, every single day--? Maybe NOW you get why you and your friends weren't welcome in our camp!"

Charmian rubbed at her suddenly chilly arms, shaking her head. "I didn't know they could do that!" she said, shivering. "They can't do that where I come from!!"

"Well...I take it that things then are better where you're from." The old woman stooped and grasped onto Stands Somewhere's other arm. "But here, they're not." She pulled on it and it came loose with a SNAP. Charmian had to turn away, shifting from foot to foot as the woman set to work breaking the legs and then demolishing the torso. When she turned around again, nothing was left of the body but a pile of chipped cinders.

"Come on," the old woman muttered, jerking a hand at her and walking back the way that Stands Somewhere had come. "Back to the camp! Before any others show up!"

Charmian bit her lip, still uncertain, before following. "How...how do I know that you're not one, then?" she asked, having to jog a little to catch up. "Or how do you know that I'm not?"

"Easy on the second one," the old woman said. "You're not nearly powerful enough."

Charmian felt brief indignation, but tried shrugging it off. "What about you?" she demanded.

"Easy on that too." The old woman glanced at her over her shoulder. "You don't know."

Charmian made a face and had to sidestep a rock as they began picking their way down a steep slope back toward the trail. "Some answer! How am I supposed to trust you then--?"

"You DON'T," the old woman retorted. A glare. "Never completely trust ANYONE but yourself! And sometimes not even that! That's the only way to live to an old age like me. Always assume that everyone is out to get you, because chances are, they ARE."

"I can hardly go around thinking that about my friends!" Charmian protested.

"Well then." A shrug. "Either change that view, or die young. At least you'll die pretty."

Charmian's face screwed up, but she decided to let it pass. "So now what are you going to do--?" She gestured at the old woman's pouch. "With that? Why did you take it?"

"The only way to properly kill a Whittiko is to cut up the body and burn its heart," the old woman said. "My fire back there wasn't strong enough for that, and besides, those still in the camp will want to know why three of us went up there, and only two came back. If I don't have this to offer, they'll be cutting up and burning us next."

"Stands and you were talking about what bad luck wabanos are!" Charmian exclaimed. "And it turns out that you are one? What are you even doing here? Why did you even bother killing him?"

The old woman's nose wrinkled. "I could just as well ask YOU what YOU'RE doing traveling with a wabano! But I'll assume you have a damned good reason!" She jerked her hand at the air, for no discernible reason. "I used to wander around just like your lot is doing! Till coming across this camp. They were having trouble with the Whittikos. Seems the North Wind has a fondness for calling them down. I managed to track down and kill one of them. After that, they let me stay. I get their protection, and a share of their stores, and they get me in return. Sure, they'd rather do without me, but I take it that I'm the lesser of two evils!"

"So you're protecting them in exchange for room and board--?"

A narrow-eyed look. "You must know full well how payment works! A wabano doesn't offer her services for free!"

Charmian stared at her for a moment, then let out her breath, feeling her muscles relaxing a little. They scrabbled down onto the path and began trekking back down toward the camp. "Well then...thank you for helping me out," she said. "Even though you just did it for the room and board. I couldn't fight him off up there."

The old woman pursed her lips again. "That's what one gets for trusting too indiscriminately. And giving part of yourself away! How utterly foolish! Think harder next time. The only reason why I didn't kill that brat off sooner was because nobody else wanted to think it could happen, but take a look." She waved her hand. "And by the way, my name's Mudroot, just in case you were wondering. Those silly friends of yours already gave up your name...as ridiculous as it is. Charmian. What nonsense."

Charmian bristled. "I hardly think MUDROOT is much better!"

"There," Mudroot said, and Charmian blinked; she'd been expecting to get a smack as sharp as anything that Moon Wolf could deal out. Instead she got a curt nod. "You're learning already."

Charmian opened her mouth, then realized that she didn't have a single thing left to say. She shut it and scowled, keeping her thoughts to herself the rest of the way down the mountain.

Several of the men with their bows and spears were standing at the edge of the camp as they approached, apparently watching out for them; they turned and ran back toward the wigwams, shouting, when the other two came into view. Charmian squinted and could at last make out several of her friends standing near a big wigwam that she took to be some sort of meeting lodge, like that which had been used for the council of elders on the Island. Stick-In-The-Dirt, Singing Cedars, Thomas, and Winter Born stood around the doorway, shielding their own eyes; she saw their faces light up as soon as they saw her. Winter Born even started running, only to slip and fall in a patch of mud; Remy started cackling until Francois reached out and pinched his ear. Charmian began jogging to reach them, stooping to grasp onto Winter Born's arm and help her up. The girl's hair was stained again--Charmian wondered how she ever managed to keep it white--and she spat mud out of her mouth, blinking it from her eyes.

"Charmian!" she exclaimed, and with one doglike shake was over her irritation, clasping Charmian's (now muddy) hand. "You're back so soon--? Did you find Kabebonikka--?"

"Not quite," Charmian said, and couldn't help grimacing. She hated the frowns that Thomas and Singing Cedars got as they approached, halting on both sides of her.

"What are you doing back so early--?"

"Where's that strange fellow who went with you--?"

"Why did she follow you up there--?"

"How come you didn't speak with the North Wind--?"

"Are you all right?" a third voice asked, and she at last noticed Stick-In-The-Dirt behind them, wringing his hands. Unlike theirs, his voice had come out soft and almost meek. Charmian let out her breath and rubbed at her head.

"Yeah...I'm fine. It's kind of a long story..." She turned back to look at Mudroot, who was walking toward the fire in the middle of the camp. She halted and held up the spirit stone. Thomas and the others squinted at it, then looked back at Charmian.

"Is that...?"

"Take a good hard look!" Mudroot exclaimed so everyone slowly gathering around her could hear. "See that? Remember what I told you? This is what remains of Stands Somewhere! Take a good look for yourselves!" She waved the crystal around, earning a bunch of gasps, many of the onlookers quickly backing away. "NOW keep in mind everything I say!" she snapped, and tossed the spirit stone into the fire. She hurled a fireball into it and a plume of flame shot into the air, making even Charmian and the others jump and flinch. An awful screeching sound arose and Charmian winced and covered her ears, at first thinking that the Wendigo was still somewhere nearby, until she realized that it must simply be the stone itself being destroyed. She turned back and grimaced again at how the others were now gawking at her.

"He was a Wendigo--?" Thomas exclaimed at the same time as Singing Cedars.

Charmian waved her hands. "Long story!! Let's just go inside, okay?"

"Best idea you've had all day," Mudroot muttered, coming toward them. She waved them aside and yanked on the doorflap. "You said you're going to head up that mountain no matter what," she said, giving Charmian a look.

Charmian nodded. "I don't care how many Wen--Whittikos there are! I have to get up there and find the North Wind."

Mudroot stared at her critically for a moment, then snorted and stepped inside. "Get in, then. Because before you go we're going to have to have a nice talk."


Continue:

 Part 105: Thinning Out Open in new Window. (13+)
Mudroot chooses an odd party to head back up the mountain...
#1759066 by Tehuti, Lord Of The Eight Author IconMail Icon



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