The Land of Broken Roads - The Druid - Chapter 18

Socks walked in front for the rest of the day and kept a pace quick enough that the humans had to press to keep up. Not so fast it wore them out, but fast enough they didn’t feel like talking much, which was fine with him. Dirt and Socks spent the day filling their minds with pure and childish imagination, which they hadn’t been able to do much lately.

They played the game where Dirt would imagine something like a boring rock, and then Socks would change it somehow, like putting a bug on it, or making it green, and then Dirt had to do something to it, and back and forth until it got too silly. This resulted in lot of laughter from Dirt, which the other humans thought was coming out of nowhere, making it even funnier.

When they got tired of that, they played the game where one of them would try to imagine a monster, and the other one had to figure out how to kill it. It had to be a fun way, though. Not a single stab or just twisting its head off. Nothing like that. The first one that Socks came up with was a big toothy lizard that had wheels instead of feet and rolled everywhere with shocking speed. Dirt killed it by sharpening a straight log into a spear shape, and then lifting it at the last second to skewer it when it tried to run him down.

The first monster Dirt came up with was a beast like those diggers, except that instead of claws, it had big grabby fingers. Socks killed it by handing it something to hold and then tossing it in the water to drown.

If they had a disagreement about how the fight would turn out, then they had to imagine their interpretation for the other person to watch, and then the other person had to redo it differently. Socks had a hundred natural advantages—speed, size, strength, magic, senses—but imagination was one arena where Dirt was his equal in every way, and that kept the game interesting long into the evening.

The effect of the berries Home had given them that morning wore off at nearly the same time for everyone. First Ignasi stumbled and gasped as the strength left his limbs, and before Hèctor and Marina could figure out what was wrong with him, it hit them too. Dirt didn’t get it quite so bad, but he still felt a wave of weariness that a trickle of mana couldn’t quite wash away. That was it, and from one instant to the next, the day’s travels were at an end.

The place they’d stopped was exactly like everywhere else in the grassy plain—flat and boring. It was strange, looking in any direction and seeing nothing at all, except the mountains retreating behind them.

“Is anyone ready for some water?” said Dirt, plopping down on the ground to relax, as if he hadn’t been laying on Socks’ back half the day.

“No waterskins to fill,” said Hèctor.

“Make a cup with your hands, silly,” said Dirt.

The beardless man scowled but didn’t hesitate to hold his hands out. Dirt raised the staff and said, “Home, would you mind?”

Water poured gently from the end of the staff. Hèctor slurped it down the instant his hands were full, then held them out for more. Marina was right there when he was done, only because she outmaneuvered Ignasi. Once everyone had gotten their fill of water, Home gave them a bit of sap, which Dirt and the other humans weren’t hungry enough to swallow more than a couple bites of.

Ignasi was the first to fall asleep, simply shimmying into a comfortable spot in the grass and nodding off before the stars even came out.

Despite clearly being exhausted, Hèctor was too restless to do the same and Dirt got the sense that the man really missed his pack. He fussed around helplessly for a while, then got up and poked around looking for firewood. Unfortunately, he found nothing, not even a bush with thick enough branches to burn, and finally gave up. He didn’t say a word as he lay down near Ignasi and closed his eyes.

While Hèctor was doing all that, Marina stayed up to brush her hair with a comb she had in a pocket, humming a song Dirt didn’t recognize. She hummed a little louder when she noticed he was listening, and he sat quietly and tried to memorize it. When she was done combing her own hair, she quietly said, “Come on over here, Dirt. I bet your hair’s never been combed, has it?”

He scooted over and sat with his back toward her. She got up on her knees and gently started combing, resting one hand on his shoulder. It was a strange feeling, having human hands on him. It wasn’t like the dryads at all. Marina’s hands were warmer, for one. The dryads were always the cool ambient temperature of the forest.

She kept humming, which he found pleasant, and combed his hair for longer than he felt was necessary. When she was done, she said, “All right, turn around and let me get a good look at you.”

He spun around, staying seated, and faced her. She pinched his chin to turn his head for an examination under her critical eye, then combed the front again a couple times. She used her sleeve to rub off a bit of grime near his eyebrow and another under at the edge of his mouth. She nodded and quietly said, “Much better. Very handsome.”

Socks got up and leaned in, head tilted slightly sideways to get a better look. He huffed and pulled away, unimpressed. -Why bother?- he asked.

Marina said, “There’s no harm in looking neat and tidy. When we get to town, maybe we’ll grab a few rakes and comb your fur. I bet you’ll like it.”

-I am neat and tidy enough already.-

“You’ll enjoy it. You’ll see. Dirt, you have a shirt in that little pack of yours, don’t you? Can we get it out?”

Dirt obliged, grabbing the pack from where he’d dropped it and handing it to her. She pulled everything out—the tunic, the shirt, the shoes and socks. And underneath, the blanket. “Oh, I forgot that was in there. If someone gets cold, they can use it. Let’s leave it out,” he said.

Marina spread out Dirt’s new clothing, biting a frown at the corners of her mouth. He saw why, and said, “They’re still wet from the rain, huh? Let’s spread them out and maybe they’ll be dry in the morning.”

“I was hoping to see you try them on,” she said.

“Yeah, but they’re wet. And I’m fine right now. I’ll even keep my pants on when I go to sleep,” he replied. Something about her wanting to get him all dressed up made him not want to, even though he’d been planning on it when they got to the city, just to see how it went.

“Oh, that’s fine. Whenever. I just wanna see you with them on. I bet you’ll be charming,” she said, trying and failing to act nonchalant. Her eyes glanced at the Home-staff, and Dirt wondered if the dryads were conspiring with her. He almost peeked at her mind to find out, then decided it would be more fun to try and figure it out like a normal human by watching for clues.

“Yeah. Maybe. I should probably find another river to wash off in first, though. Don’t you think so? Wouldn’t I just get them all dirty on the inside?” he asked, testing.

“You’re not that dirty right now. Not like when we first met,” she replied.

“I guess that’s true,” said Dirt. He realized that for him to keep up the charade and act like an innocent child to get more information out of her, he needed to know how an innocent child actually acted, and he had no idea. So that wouldn’t work. He’d have to think of something else.

There was a lull in the conversation in which Dirt couldn’t think of what to say. Marina was the one who broke it, asking, “There’s one thing I’m not clear on. The dryads told me you woke them up, but you said they raised you, right? So you learned to speak from them?”

“Oh, no, I knew before. I just woke up one day in the forest, and I don’t remember anything before that. But they noticed me and then figured out how to make dryads,” said Dirt, leaving out some important steps.

“So who taught you how to speak? Who fed you when you were a babe?” Marina asked. “You have to have a mother somewhere, don’t you?”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“No, I’m sure I had one, but I don’t remember anything about her. I didn’t just appear in the dirt in a pile of goo,” said Dirt. He shifted uncomfortably, realizing that he was telling the truth and lying at the same time. He’d have to be careful if he wanted to stay honest. “At least not at first. I had to have been born at some point. But I’m sure she’s gone, because that was a long time ago.”

“What happened to you? How did you get there?”

Dirt knew how he’d gotten there, roughly, but explaining would give away a lot of things he didn’t want her to know. Maybe someday he’d explain that he was from the ancient past and that he’d broken the world, but not now.

“One day I just woke up there, laying on the ground. I really don’t have a single memory of my own from before that.” He hoped she didn’t catch the ‘of my own.’

Marina plucked the teeth of her comb with her thumbnail, wondering. It made musical little plinking sounds, and Dirt almost reached for it to try himself. She asked, “So the trees noticed you, made dryads, and then you taught them how to speak?”

Dirt thought about that. Had he? “No, actually, I don’t think I think I did. I wonder where they learned my language. And yours. From what you said, I don’t think they would have heard enough words to figure it out themselves.”

She frowned, fretting over something he was sorely tempted to peek at her mind and learn. He didn’t, though. Finally she said, “Seems kind of sad to me, Dirt. No parents, no friends. Just you and the wilds. Every child deserves better than that.”

“Socks is a better friend than you can imagine,” said Dirt, anger creeping into his voice. “I love him, and I love the dryads. They’re incredible.”

“I meant human friends. You need someone to talk to—”

“We talk all day! In our minds!”

“Dirt, listen. You’re a charming little man, sweet as you please and clever. You can do some terrifying things. But if you can’t learn to be a little less wild, you’ll never fit in anywhere. That’s all. I don’t want to take anything away from you. I just want you to have a little more, so you have options when you’re old enough to decide what you want.”

Dirt started angrily at that, but calmed the more he thought about it. She hadn’t really meant to insult Socks; she just didn’t understand. She couldn’t know. But she was probably right about learning to be less wild. Nothing in Prisca’s memories accounted for how Dirt was living his life.

He wasn’t about to make any major changes; there’d be time for that someday, and he couldn’t be happier than he was now. But would it really hurt to let her tame him a little, just to learn? Dirt pondered that and let the moment stretch into an uncomfortable silence, and soon it was clear neither of them had anything else to add. Dirt finally just said, “Thanks. I’ll think about that.”

“Good. Good night, little Dirt,” said Marina. She ruffled his hair, ruining her efforts to comb it. She grinned, and he smiled back at her to share the joke. He could still sense her frustration, mild though it was. After that, she curled up in the grass to sleep.

Dirt crawled over to snuggle in with Socks. He shared his sight with the pup and watched the sky as the stars came out, since Socks couldn’t see them very well.

-She is right and wrong at the same time,- said the pup.

“I know. I guess if I want to be the best human, I’ll have to learn a lot more things,” he thought. Socks sent him a puff of affection, which he returned. That was all the discussing they needed for the ‘not friends’ aspect of the conversation.

“We’re not staying up, are we?” he thought.

-No,- replied Socks, just to him. ­-The Devourer is too near to be out after dark. I should not have stayed up so late the last few nights.-

As usual, all the questions Dirt couldn’t ask came to the fore and Socks had to wall off part of his mind where Dirt couldn’t see it. Questions like, how come only pups were in danger? And if only pups were in danger, how come Mother and Father couldn’t kill the Devourer? And more than anything else, what was he? If only Dirt knew more, perhaps he could find a solution or help in some way, and Socks wouldn’t have to spend his puppy years in constant danger.

He reached up and patted Socks on the side of the snout, fully aware how tiny his human hand was and how little good it did. Socks deserved another big puppy to play with, and it pained Dirt he didn’t have one. But the mental affection they sent back and forth was sincere, and knowing Dirt would drown in pity kept Socks from feeling too sorry for himself or spending too much time being afraid. Together they watched the stars come out, and then the moon rise, and then they went to sleep.

The next morning Dirt awoke with a huge sneeze, then another. Something tickled his nose, and he sneezed a third time before he even opened his eyes. When he did, he found Ignasi standing over him with a long piece of grass, tickling his face with the fluffy tuft on the end. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to decide if he was mad.

The men laughed and Socks leaned down to give him a little lick. -I have learned a new trick,- he said with a mischievous air.

“You have a nose, too!” said Dirt.

-You can’t reach it,- said Socks. He picked up a stalk of grass with his mind and waved it in Dirt’s direction, snout raised high.

Dirt giggled and rolled to his feet, then snatched a stalk of grass of his own and used mana to leap all the way up. Socks dodged, of course, but the game was on. The two of them rolled and ducked and jumped to get away from the other, and in a small play area, Dirt had the advantage of speed. His body was simply more flexible and he could change direction faster. No matter how Socks tried to escape, unless he decided to really run, the pup couldn’t get away from him.

Socks, however, had the advantage of being able to hold ten stalks of grass at once and attack from different angles, which he used to great effect. Dirt could only look in one direction at a time. Neither of them managed to make the other sneeze, but each scored plenty of hits on the other’s nose.

Dirt was losing until Socks leaped sideways, nose forward, in that way he did when he found something fun enough to leap in excitement about but wanted to keep his eyes on. Dirt anticipated where he’d land and got there in only a few lightning-quick steps.

Too late, the pup realized his mistake and tried to twist in the air. It wasn’t going to work, so he tried something Dirt wasn’t expecting. He made a shield of force with his mind and hit that instead, just before he landed where Dirt was waiting.

They were both so startled it worked that they stopped dead and stared at each other. They had the same thought and without Dirt sending a single word, Socks made a flat shield parallel to the ground and lightly stepped onto it. He stood a full human pace in the air as if hovering there, wagging his tail.

The pup’s weight quickly multiplied, though, doubling and doubling again until the shield collapsed. He dropped into the dirt and landed heavier than he should have. His legs crumbled and his torso hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of him.

Dirt ran forward and stopped short of hugging Socks, in case he was actually hurt. “Are you okay?” he asked aloud.

-I’ll be fine.- The pup rose gingerly to his feet and held his head down for Dirt to hug. Dirt squeezed him and scratched between his ears.

The humans stood at a distance where they’d retreated for their safety. Seeing the game was over, they came back over. Ignasi sighed and said, “It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt,” but he sounded more amused than upset.

Hèctor said, “Someone getting hurt is how you know it was fun and games.” The man had a twinkle in his eye and cracked a rare grin.

-Yes,-­ said Socks. -Usually it’s Dirt, though. That is a good trick but the weight has nowhere to go, so I’ll have to be careful.-

“Yeah, if Socks gets hurt, I can’t carry him the rest of the day,” said Dirt. He made room for the others to come scratch poor Socks around the ears, and it wasn’t long until the pup was feeling better.

Home provided everyone a nice breakfast of sap, which Marina asked for in place of the all-day berries without explanation. After that, since no one had a pack except Dirt and his had nothing but clothes in it, there was nothing else to do. No camp to pack up, no fire to put out. They were on their way quickly, and since there was no trail to follow, they ended up walking side by side.

Dirt walked this time, and for the first time, he found himself appreciating wearing pants. Although most of the grasses were shorter than his waist, a lot of them were scratchy and would have scraped up his legs. Since he didn’t have fur, he supposed this was the next best thing.

Once, later in the morning, Socks caught a scent on the wind and raced away without explanation. Hèctor asked, “Should we be worried?”

Dirt said, “No, if the thing we should be worried about was here, he’d be here. But I bet he comes back with his face all bloody. Probably a deer or something.”

Marina asked, “Shouldn’t you go with him?”

Dirt said, “No, I can’t smell well enough to help him circle the prey. Sometimes we go together, and sometimes he likes to go by himself. He’ll be back soon.”

Sure enough, Socks came padding back a short time later, muzzle and front paws bloody. He kept his nose low to sniff the ground as he walked, wagging his tail in a self-satisfied manner. A mysterious bundle the size of Dirt’s leg hung from a strap Socks held with a front tooth.

First thing he did was lick Dirt’s face to tease him, leaving a scent of blood behind that even Dirt could smell. Marina looked sick, which amused Socks so much that Dirt suspected that’s why he’d done it.

Socks licked him again and Dirt giggled and said, “Stop that! Okay, so what did you find?”

-Goblins. And look what they had.– The pup dropped the bundle and it fell open to reveal three swords resting on a filthy cloth. Hèctor got there first and hastily picked one up, then unsheathed it and examined the blade. It was rusty from hilt to point, but still straight and sharp.

He looked up, disturbed, and said, “Goblins don’t make swords. They don’t make anything at all. Where’d they get these?”

­-How should I know? From whatever makes them. Are those from humans?-

“Yes, humans made these. What I meant was, why do goblins have them?” asked Hèctor. He checked the blades of the other two and they were rusted as well. Tossing one to Ignasi and Marina, he wiped the blood off the sheath of the third on the grass, then looped it over his own shoulder. Then he added, “I hope your city’s still there.”

“With all the people in it, unlike the last one,” said Ignasi.

“It had walls. No goblins are getting through that,” said Marina, but there was a note of uncertainty in her voice that everyone else picked up on. “We’ll find out soon enough, though. Today, even, maybe. We should be close.”

Socks sniffed the air again and they resumed their walk.