The Land of Broken Roads - The Druid - Chapter 6

The three humans continued to stare dumbfounded until Dirt got uncomfortable just standing there. But he wasn’t going to give up already, so he stepped close and sat down by the fire, keeping a nervous eye on it to make sure it stayed inside the ring of stones.

Marina was the closest, and she shied away from him, scooting backward while trying not to make it obvious.

“No tinc por,” said Dirt. I’m not scary. At least, that’s what he hoped he said. It was a little ambiguous. But he smiled and twisted the head off one of the birds, since there was nothing edible on them, and tore the skin off it with his teeth and fingers. Then he held it out to Marina, licking the blood off his teeth. She kept her hands down and didn’t take it from him.

Socks stepped fully into the light and sniffed the three humans, but not right up close, since they wouldn’t appreciate that. –They smell hungry.-

“En Socks no fa por,” said Dirt. Socks isn’t scary either. Probably what he said. “I tampoc os vol menjar.” Or want to eat you.

Ignasi absentmindedly tugged his short, pale beard and said, “Pren-ho, Marina. No els volem ofendre.” We don’t want… something.

“Què se suposa que n’he de fer amb aixo?” she replied, somewhere between horror and disgust. What am I supposed to do with it?

“Es menjar!” said Dirt, gentle laughter in his voice. Gods in Glory, what was wrong with these people? He held the skinless bird in his teeth and tossed the other three to the humans, one each. They caught them, thankfully. Then he took his bird, gripped it in both hands, and bit deep into the guts, sucking them out and swallowing them whole. “Menja-t’ho!” Eat it!

Socks leaned down and licked the blood from Dirt’s face and said, -Be careful. You are getting dirty.-

“Oops, I forgot. Thanks! Are you going to talk to them, too?”

-No. I want them to talk to you instead.-

“Dirt,” said Hèctor, almost correctly.

“Si! Dirt,” said Dirt, pointing at himself. “Ets Hèctor, Ignasi, Marina.” Then he pointed up at Socks and said, “Socks. És amic meu.” He’s my friend.

“Dirt, on són els teus pares?” Where are your something?

“Pares?” said Dirt, unsure what that word meant.

Marina saw his confusion and said, “Pares. Mare. Pare.”

“Oh!” He knew what they were asking. Where were his parents? “No tinc pares. Tinc arbres i llops.” I don’t have parents. I have trees and wolves.

Hèctor asked, “Estàs sol aquí fora? On és la teva tribu?” Are you alone… Where is your tribe?

“No tinc una tribu. Però no estic sol. Tinc a Socks. I tinc a Home,” he said, pointing at Socks and the Home-staff laying on the ground beside him. I have no tribe. But I’m not alone. I have Socks and Home. He took another bite from the breast-meat and chewed it slowly, pushing it around with his tongue and enjoying the flavor.

“Home?” asked Marina.

Dirt lifted the staff with one hand to give her a better look. “Forma part de Home. Ella és un arbre. També amiga meva.” This is part of Home, who is a tree and my friend.

Marina said, “El teu amic… és un pal?” Your friend is a stick?

Socks huffed in deep amusement and wagged his tail, which got a grin out of Dirt as well. But for Marina, he didn’t need to look at her mind to see her pity growing. It was clear on her face, and seeing it made him unable to laugh.

“No, Home és un arbre gran, gran, gran. Més gran que… aquella muntanya,” he said, pointing at the mountain. Home is a big, big, big tree. Bigger than the mountain.

The humans didn’t seem to believe him, and Dirt didn’t trust his language skills to explain more fully. So he resorted to taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully. He wasn’t even hungry and the more he ate the less he wanted to continue, but he wasn’t sure what else to do.

Finally, Ignasi took out a smaller knife he had tucked in his belt and began preparing his own bird, and soon after, Marina and Héctor followed suit.

Socks said –They haven’t said anything about your pants.- He huffed again and gave a tiny growl, not menacing at all. He still found the whole situation hilarious, but the humans didn’t know him. They froze, suddenly full of fear again. No, they’d been full of fear the whole time; it was just that they’d been able to ignore it and start calming down.

Dirt hurriedly reached back and patted Socks on the side of his nose and smiled. “Socks vol… saber si… t’agraden… els meus pantalons.” Socks wants to know if you like my pants.

“Si,” said Marina. “Molt bonics.”

“Aquesta és… la meva primera roba,” said Dirt. This is my first clothes.

The humans weren’t sure what to make of that, but they did seem relieved that Socks wasn’t mad at them.

Dirt watched with curiosity as they discarded the guts into the fire, which he didn’t mind since it wasn’t the best part anyway. But then, instead of just eating like normal, they broke sticks off a nearby bush, sharpened them, and skewered their dinner. Then they held the bird over the fire. Dirt almost jumped forward to stop them, suddenly angry they’d go through so much trouble just to spite a gift from him and Socks, but they didn’t toss the birds into the fire. Just over it.

He looked back at Socks, and the pup said, ­-I have no idea what they are doing. But if they burn those birds, I am not getting them any new ones.-

Dirt stared, and not even looking into their minds helped him understand what they were doing. They watched for something about the meat to change, but it wasn’t clear what. The rest of their minds were full of spinning ideas and words that Dirt could hardly follow. Still afraid, though. They were still terrified. He couldn’t blame them, since the first time he saw Socks he’d been so scared he peed, but he also didn’t know if there was anything he could do to help them relax. They’d just have to get used to having him and the big pup around.

He still had half of his bird left, so he went to take another bite. But Ignasi stopped him, reaching for it and saying, “Aquí, deixa que jo també cuini el teu.” Here, let me something yours.

Dirt hesitantly handed it over and the bearded man stuck it on the end of the same stick he was already using. Then he held both birds over the fire while Dirt watched with growing anxiety that it would taste like ashes now.

After a moment, Socks stood and sniffed close to the fire. ­­-You can smell that too, right? They’re burning it, but in a different way.-

Dirt lifted his nose and sniffed around as well, and now that the pup pointed it out, a new scent rested on the air. It reminded him of something burned alive by Socks’ flames, but without all the sickly sharpness. There was no burning hair, for one, and that made a huge difference.

The moon peeked out over the mountains to the east, smaller than it had been last night. Socks noticed it and stood. He filled his cavernous lungs and gave a long, mournful howl, which rose to the sky and filled the whole valley. Everyone paused and listened for a reply, but none came. Socks howled again, just as sincerely. No answer.

“I didn’t hear anyone. Did you?” asked Dirt.

–No. It is strange to be away from wolves for so long.-

“Do you feel lonely?”

-Not yet. And in another month or two it will be time to return. Once each season.-

“Yep. Are we going to let Home bring us with root travel, or do you think you’ll want to run?”

-I don’t know. It will depend on whether we see the Devourer or not. If he’s close, then I will not dare run.-

Everyone fell into a reverent silence after that, the humans watching the fire and Socks gazing up at the moon and stars. Dirt found himself shying away from looking at their minds too much, because now that he was so close and could see it all so clearly, all three of them were beset with deeply personal worries. It felt like an invasion of their privacy. Hèctor still had a mate at home, a dona, and he was remembering a hundred things about her. Her voice, her hair, their arguments, mating with her. They seemed to have a bad relationship, but not always. Ignasi had no one waiting for him, but thought about his animals and wondered if they were being fed. He thought about a woman and wished he had taken her as his mate. His dona.

Marina had no thoughts of home, but sent her mind back over and over into her childhood, people she hadn’t seen in many years.

Dirt quit looking. Until just now, he’d forgotten about privacy entirely. He had no need for it so far, except a few rare times when he wanted to be alone. What was the point of privacy around Socks, or Callius or Home? Or Mother? Imagine even trying to hide something from Mother.

But there were things he didn’t want the humans to know yet, like that he had mana, or that he could see their thoughts. Influence them, too, if he tried. Probably. Maybe someday he’d want to, like if someone was trying to hurt him, but right now, he wanted to prove that he could live among humans as a human.

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Ignasi pulled his birds from over the fire and looked at them, poking the roasting flesh here and there. He didn’t see what he was looking for and put them back to keep going.

Dirt asked, “Una pregunta. Per què esteu aquí?” I want to ask, why are you here?

Marina was the one who answered. “Estem buscant alguna cosa. Hi havia un poble on vaig viure quan era petita i està molt lluny. El lloc on vivim ara s’està tornant insegur i potser necessitem una nova llar. Potser si el meu vell poble i el meu nou s’ajunten, podrem sobreviure una estona més.”

She talked fast enough that Dirt couldn’t quite follow everything, but he already knew what they were looking for, so it didn’t matter. They were looking for something, a town she lived in as a child. Something about unsafe, and if they find it, perhaps they will survive longer. Something like that.

Dirt said, “No conec cap… poble, però sé on hi ha… una torre blanca. És sobre aquestes muntanyes.” I don’t know any towns, but I know of a white tower. It’s over those mountains.

The three humans’ eyes shot to his face, expressions suddenly focused. “Torre blanca?” asked Marina, trying to sound gentler than she probably felt.

“Si, torre blanca. Podem anar, però tu has de caminar. Socks no et portarà.” Yes, a white tower. We can go there but you will have to walk. Socks won’t carry you. “És la torre el que esteu buscant?” Is the tower what you are looking for? Dirt asked hesitantly, not sure how to tell them everyone was dead.

“No, està en camí. Però si trobem la torre, no estem perduts. Des d’allà el puc trobar,” said Marina in a rush, her hands shaking and making the bird tap against the burning wood. No, but it’s on the way. If we find the tower we are not lost. From there we can find… him? It?

Dirt smiled, eager. They finally saw him as useful, so that was a good first step. Now, they could all go together to the town, and they’d introduce Dirt to everyone, and he would be friends with a hundred humans all at once. He said, “Tothom a la torre… està mort. Però trobarem el teu poble… i allí seran… vius.” Everyone at the tower is dead, but we will find your town, where they are alive.

That was the wrong thing to say, though. Marina gasped and both of the men tightened their grips on their sticks and got a hard look in their eyes.

Ignasi asked, “Mort? tothom?”

Dirt looked down, already feeling his plans dripping away. He hoped he hadn’t completely ruined it. “Sí, tothom. Ho sento.” Yes, everyone. Sorry.

From nearby, an owl hooted loudly and everyone turned to try and find it in the darkness. Except Socks, who could hear exactly where it was and didn’t need to.

Marina asked, “És per això que estàs sol?” Is that why you are alone?

“No.”

Dirt looked at each of their faces in turn and already second-guessed his decision not to look at their minds. He could tell just by looking at them that they were deep in thought, their hearts filling with a dozen new concerns. And he could guess what ones—how did they all die? Is anything left? When did it happen? What about the town?

But rather than peek and know for certain, he decided to wait and see what thoughts they voiced. Until then, he could be patient.

They didn’t ask him anything else, though, which surprised him. Instead, they waited until their birds were burned up enough, and once satisfied, Ignasi held the stick toward Dirt.

Dirt put some mana in his hands and toughened them, just in case. It turned out to have been a good idea, because it was hot enough it might have burned his skin otherwise. But with the mana to keep it at bay, the heat radiating off the cooked meat and bones warmed his face in a pleasant way and filled his nostrils with a delightful scent.

­Before he took a bite, though, he held it over for Socks to smell. The pup gave it several long sniffs, then raised his head and let his tongue loll out. ­-Share your taste.-

“Of course!” Dirt obliged and that part of their minds slid together. He gingerly took a bite of roasted flesh, a small one so he wouldn’t burn his tongue. Then another, bigger bite, and another, until his cheeks were stuffed. “It tastes different, but there’s a lot more flavor now. I think I like it. What about you, Socks?”

-I think I want enough for me to taste by myself.­ I might come back with twenty birds,- replied the pup, joking. Mostly.

Dirt laughed, which got surprised looks from the humans. He hurried to explain, “Socks vol provar-ne. Va dir que… tornarà amb molts ocells. Però era una broma.” Socks wants to try some, and he said he will come back with many birds. But it was a joke.

Hèctor carefully asked, “Com saps el que ha dit?” How do you know what he said?

Dirt should’ve seen this coming and had an answer ready. Should he just tell them now that he could see minds, and that’s how he and Socks talked? No. He didn’t know what they’d think about that. Until he knew, he wouldn’t say. He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Puc parlar amb animals.” I can talk to animals.

The humans nodded and went back to eating and Dirt breathed a sigh of relief. They kept an eye on him, though, glancing up every now and then at him and Socks, as if still unsure quite what to make of them. Well, that was fine. They’d get to know him better over time. Dirt would be a lot easier to get to know than the dryads had been.

Dirt was pleased that he was communicating so well, though. He felt like he learned a new word every single sentence. He’d been expecting it to be harder. A few more days and it might be as natural as his real language.

After everyone was finished with their dinner, they unrolled blankets from their packs and tucked themselves in, fully clothed. Marina slept on the end, and Ignasi was in the middle.

Socks lay down and Dirt took his accustomed place nestled in against the pup’s neck. As they drifted off to sleep, Socks said, -I want humans to put a whole bull on a fire for me.-

Dirt smiled and patted his fur. “The first one we see, I’ll make them do it.”

The next morning, Socks and Dirt woke much later than the humans and found them quietly waiting, all packed up and ready to go. The sun wasn’t quite up over the mountains yet, but the dawn was bright and probably had been for a while.

Marina smiled and brushed some brown hair out of her eyes. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, in their language.

“Not yet. I want to eat first,” replied Dirt, pleased that it was becoming ever more natural to him. It seemed that conversing last night had caused a hundred little pieces to all slide together while he was dreaming, leaving him with a more complete picture of their language than when he went to sleep.

He crawled out from his little nest in Socks’ neck-fur and stretched. He stepped a few paces away so it wouldn’t splash on anything and peed, then came back to the empty ash-pit and sat down. The three humans were hiding half-smiles, amused at something he couldn’t guess. But they didn’t choose to share so he didn’t peek at their minds. In fact, he would have to be careful not to admit knowing things he could only learn that way, or they’d figure it out.

In his language, Dirt told the staff, “Good morning, Home. I hope you slept well. Are you awake yet? Can I have some sap?” He hugged it, and while it wasn’t the same as her dryad, it would have to do. And sure enough, soon after, she made a big glob of sap for him, which he pulled off and started chewing. “Can you please make some for Socks, too? I’ll wake him up in a minute.”

The sap for Socks had to be made in sections, since it got too big and bulky to carry. Once the first bit was done, a round ball bigger than Dirt’s torso that was too heavy to lift without mana, Dirt gave the pup’s mind a gentle push to wake him up. Without even opening his eyes, Socks opened his mouth and Dirt threw the sap in. Then he sat back down and waited for the next glob.

The humans were very curious about all this, watching without trying to hide their amazement. Maybe they just didn’t know anything about trees, though, because sap wasn’t a strange thing at all. They did let Home fill up their waterskins, though, once they saw that she could make water as well.

After breakfast, Dirt decided to walk instead of ride, since he’d do a better job keeping pace for the humans than Socks would. Dirt led the group and Socks walked behind, content to smell them and anything else interesting while he kept watch.

There was very little chatter because it turned out that walking straight up a mountainside was tiring for normal humans, who had no mana to burn to make it easy. Dirt could sympathize, too, since it hadn’t been that long since Home made him run up all those stairs. But they didn’t complain and followed Dirt right up into a canyon between two flat peaks and into the mountains proper.

Dirt wasn’t used to travelling so slowly. He’d run everywhere even before he got mana, but the adults would never stand a chance keeping up. They had those heavy packs to carry, after all, and he just had pants, a knife, and a staff. And a colorful rock when he saw one, and a shiny green beetle, until it flew away.

When Dirt found a second colorful rock, this one pure white and round, unlike anything else nearby, Marina must have seen him trying to decide whether to keep it or not. She said, “Why don’t you put it in your butxaca?”

“My what?” he asked.

She took the white rock from his hand and found a fold of cloth on the side of his pants, up near the top, and pulled it open. She dropped it in and patted it. “Butxaca.”

Dirt looked down and patted it himself, amazed. He’d had no idea! Pockets. These pants had pockets and he hadn’t noticed.

Socks walked up and leaned directly over Marina to get a look, which made her freeze and try to hide her sudden terror.

–Now I wish I had some of those.­-

“You would look silly in pants,” said Dirt.

Socks huffed in amusement. ­-That isn’t stopping you. And I could wear two pairs.-

Dirt laughed as they shared that mental image back and forth. “He says he wants pants now, too, so he can have pockets,” said Dirt in their language, but from their expressions, that didn’t clear anything up.

He shrugged and they kept going.

Socks and Dirt took a nap in the middle of the day like they always did and had a lunch of sap. The adults munched on some more of their dwindling supply of bread, and Dirt resolved to help find something to cook for dinner that night.

Travelling in the mountains was slow. Even when they could follow a game trail, just the fact of going uphill made Dirt’s feet drag and shortened his steps, and it was worse for the adults, who had no mana to burn. Dirt wondered if he could teach them to use it somehow, but then he remembered what it had taken for him to learn and decided against even mentioning it.

That evening Socks killed a hunting cat and brought it to cook. Dirt made sure they gave Socks all the guts to eat, and then cook the rest. The four humans only ate about a third of the roasted meat, and Socks got the rest. He was about to swallow the whole thing in one bite, but then he paused and looked up into the distance. A moment later, he wagged his tail happily and looked more relaxed.

-Mother says not to eat the bones. Cooked bones will hurt my stomach until I am older.-

“She’s watching still?”

-Yes.-

“I’m glad. I guess they’re not so far away after all, sort of like Home.”

Dirt took out his knife and started carving the meat from the bones, explaining that cooked bones weren’t good for Socks. Ignasi started helping with his knife, and Dirt couldn’t help but compare the two. Dirt’s was far, far nicer, flawless and sharp with a gently curving blade. Ignasi’s was smaller, less gracefully designed, and losing its edge.

The next day proceeded much the same, trudging up and down mountains, following canyons in an out, clambering over boulders and around bushes and trees. One place was nicer than the rest, with a soft floor and pines tall enough for Socks to walk through underneath them and enjoy the shade.

Late in the afternoon, Socks suddenly barked, loud enough for it to echo off the peaks and come back down into the dry canyon they were in.

-I smelled goblins. I think there are some around.-

Dirt opened his mind sight and kept walking, looking for anything around that could be dangerous. Sure enough, after another couple thousand steps, he found a sizable group of them gathered somewhere nearby, eager and waiting. Their minds were full of anticipation and hunger and from what they were looking at, they seemed to have set up a hasty ambush not much farther up the canyon. He wondered if they’d been there all day, waiting for a deer or something, or if they’d known Dirt and his little group were coming.

“They’re up there, I think, just over those rocks.”

-I know. I can hear them already.-

“What are we going to do about it?”

-I’ll take care of these ones. You just wait here. It’ll be fun.-

“Okay.”

The pup leaped over Dirt and the humans and raced at full speed up the canyon. After walking so slowly for this long, Socks seemed shockingly fast and Dirt felt a pang of envy that he had to wait here. A moment later, countless screams rose on the air, high-pitched and full of fury.

“Socks found some… they are green, and this tall, and shaped like humans,” said Dirt, halfway into the sentence before he realized he didn’t know the word.

“Goblins,” said Hèctor.

“Goblins,” said Marina, quieter.

“Si, goblins!” said Dirt, happily. “But Socks will take care of them. He is ready to have fun.”

The four humans watched up the canyon and listened as the high-pitched screams of anger became fear and pain and were silenced one by one.