Garinor looked around and he thought the best option was to distract this group and perhaps cause them to make enough noise so they announced their presence to the other Daggerfists. It was a dangerous ploy, but he had spent so many days in the forest near Paligar launching projectiles at his friends that he was certain it could work.
While the group of men lumbered away from them, Garinor and Song loaded their pockets with as many stones as they could find. Then they ran forward through the trees, passing beyond the fighters, and then up they went, scrambling hand over hand into two of the trees where they nestled in and were ready to begin.
Song made Garinor wait until several members of the group had passed them and then he gave the signal to let loose. The recent events in the outpost filled Garinor’s aim with precision and power. He threw his stones, determined not just to distract them but to make them cry out in pain. His first stone cracked into one man’s forehead and the sound he made startled all the others.
Garinor waited while the others turned around and wondered what had so shocked their companion. Once the man shrugged, rubbing his forehead, they started on their way again. It was then the rocky rain truly started to fall. Song and Garinor alternated attacks, trying to pelt as many different soldiers as they could. Their perch was excellent, for they were far too high up for the men to retaliate. Angry shouts and cries echoed through the wood and all was working well.
Then one of them picked up a tossed stone and hurled it forth. The other soldiers saw this attack and followed suit. Soon, the sky was filled with rocks flying up and down again. Song and Garinor were hard-pressed to hold tightly to the branches for support and they were unable to continue their own assault.
The majority of the group continued their trek while five remained behind to deal with the interlopers. Garinor was happier with these odds. Rocks whizzed by his face and he nearly caught one full on, which would have resulted in his fall to the ground.
Three of the men remained on the ground hurling up countless rocks and twigs. The other two used the distraction to start scaling the branches. Meanwhile, the arsenal Song and Garinor had brought up with them was depleted and they had little else they could do. Garinor tried snapping off smaller branches, but it wasn’t easy tearing off a living branch. He considered using his sword to loosen the branches, but he understood that it would be too easy for him to lose his grip and, if he didn’t fall himself, he was likely to lose the sword.
The man climbing up his tree reached a hungry hand toward his ankle and Garinor wasn’t quick enough to pull away in time. With a triumphant laugh, the man clasped both hands around the ankle and then jumped off the tree.
The weight of a fully-grown man pulling down on his leg was more than Garinor could handle. He lost his balance and flipped over the branch he’d been sitting on. He plummeted, bashing into other branches as he went. The stray thought that followed him down was that it was obvious the man yanking on his foot was insane.
Garinor crashed on top of the man with a thud and, though it was painful, he was relatively unscathed. The man himself was motionless and Garinor didn’t know if he was unconscious or if the fall had killed him, but he didn’t have time to investigate, for the other three men on the ground leaped into action.
Garinor scrambled to his feet and pulled out his sword at last, which caused the men to laugh at him. He knew he looked foolish, but he didn’t care. His life was at stake and he needed to defend himself. He braced his feet and he was ready to fight them off.
Song was still up in his tree and when Garinor fell he nearly launched himself into the air to catch him, but reason caught up to him in time. He could see the other man climbing his own tree to claim him, but Song acted first. He grabbed the branch underneath him and swung his body outward. He released the branch and his momentum carried him through the air to the next tree, which he grabbed in a panic. From there he jumped down row by row until he hit the ground hard, pulling out his sword and jumping in to help Garinor.
The defensive maneuvers Garinor had practiced with Song were working. Even with three attackers against him, he hadn’t earned more than a scratch. He wondered if it was because they were too concerned about hitting each other or that they didn’t want to hurt a boy. Either way, he remained focused and parried each swing.
Then one of them fell. It took a moment for Garinor to realize that Song had joined the fray. One man remained with Garinor, but the other broke off to face the new threat while the soldier up in the tree clambered down to assist them. It didn’t take long for Song to dispatch his opponent and he turned in time to defeat the tree-climber as well. All that remained was the man squaring off against Garinor.
The boy was tired. He could barely hold up his sword and he knew it was going to be over soon. Even as Song dealt with the others, he understood that there wasn’t anything else he could do to stay safe. The man’s sword swept around for his legs and Garinor missed the parry, taking a hit and falling over.
Song pounced at once and was shocked to find that the soldier was ready for him. He turned about and plunged the sword into Song’s belly, but Song’s last lunge simultaneously caught the soldier. Both collapsed.
Garinor screamed in disbelief. He scrambled to Song’s side and turned him over. His face was creased in agony and his eyes were quickly losing focus. “Song!”
“Garinor, you’re… safe,” he gasped. His eyes sank closed and Garinor knew that he was about to die.
“Song, you can’t go! You have to live! You must!” He held his friend’s head and tried to ignore his own pains, but one agony grew deeper and more painful and he couldn’t ignore it for long. It was a searing pain in his thigh and despite his despair at the loss of his friend, he had to be rid of that burning force. He shifted his weight to the side and retrieved a stone from his pocket.
He recognized it dully as the stone he had taken from the rocky enclave and he was vaguely amused that he hadn’t tossed it at the soldiers while he was in the tree. But as he held it in his hand, its heat became unbearable. Still holding Song on his knee, he dropped the stone when it was too hot for him and it fell against Song’s heart.
Garinor felt a strange pain coursing through his body, as if part of his life was slipping away, but he didn’t know why. He looked down at Song and saw that the soldier’s sword was moving. It was being pulled out of Song’s body. At first Garinor worried that it was another soldier, perhaps the one he had fallen on when he was dragged out of the tree, but he didn’t see anyone. The sword was moving on its own.
His inner being cried in pain, but he looked in awe as the sword clattered to the earth. Garinor’s eyes fixed on the garish wound in Song’s stomach and gasped as it folded in on itself, sealing from the inside out layer by layer. He looked at Song’s face. The lines of pain dissipated to an expression of peace.
His eyes trained further down and he could still feel the heat emanating from the bloodstone, but the stone was not the same size as it had been before. It was smaller now, and little by little it shed layers of dust until it vanished completely. When it was gone, the tugging pain at his soul eased and was gone as well.
Garinor sat there in perplexed silence, oblivious to the rest of the world. All he saw was Song opening his eyes and gazing around, clearly puzzled. He touched his stomach where the wound should have been and he turned a wary eye to Garinor. “What happened?” he breathed.
“I don’t know,” the boy said. “It was the stone.” He recounted the tale of the stone he had been sent to find and how it had been with him, steadily warm in his pocket, and then how it had shed layers of itself as it healed Song’s wounds.
“That’s unbelievable,” the man said, pushing himself upright. “I feel like I’ve been completely rejuvenated. Everything feels perfect and I’m all full of energy.”
“I’m really glad. I couldn’t have handled it if you had died protecting me.”
Song tousled Garinor’s hair and stood up and stretched, only then realizing the carnage around him and what it meant. “The army!”
Garinor pushed himself up to join Song on a sprint to the Daggerfist camp, but as he did so, a great weariness swept over him and he keeled over.
“Garinor! What is it?”
“I—I don’t know. I feel… strange.” He closed his eyes against a rush of vertigo but that only augmented the feeling. He needed to rest and to recover. “I think, somehow… that stone… it was tied to me.”
“Your blood,” Song muttered. “That must have been it, Garinor.”
He nodded, recalling the pain he had felt in his inner being as the stone had worked to revive and restore Song. It made sense, but he wondered what the long-term effects might be. “I feel so weird.”
“You have to rest a bit, Garinor.”
“You should go… to the camp. Help them. I’ll… be fine.”
Song wouldn’t hear of it. “You just gave up a part of yourself to bring me back to life. I’m not about to desert you. But, Garinor, we need to move away from here in case the others return. I’ll help you.” He put his arm around Garinor and brought the boy to his feet. He all but carried him from the area, heading a bit further to the north where they were unlikely to be found.
Garinor regretted not being able to help the Daggerfists, but he was glad at least that Song was alive. He breathed slowly and calmly, determined to remain conscious a while longer so Song could see that he was recovering. He wasn’t sure if he was or not, but it was worth putting on a brave face for his friend. After all, Tomli had done the same for him.
Shouts and cries of pain echoed through the afternoon air and it was difficult to tune out the sounds. Song sang wistful melodies, unable to conjure up anything more jovial in such a stressful time. So it was they waited through the end of the day, hoping Garinor’s strength would soon return.