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Touch of Power

Page 66

   


I tried to believe the quiet meant good things. After two uneventful days, I was almost convinced, but everything changed the next morning when Kerrick tripped.
We had been following him as he searched for a place for us to hide in until the spring melt, which hopefully would be in three to four weeks. Without warning, he sprawled forward, doing a face-plant in the snow.
At first, we laughed and teased. The normally sure-footed Kerrick brushed snow off his cape, grumbling good-naturedly. The culprit appeared to be a tree limb. A curved gray branch arched from the disturbed snow. We would have stepped over it and continued on our merry way except Belen paused and peered at the branch closer.
He cursed and dug around it, sweeping the snow away. The rest of us exchanged confused glances until our brains deciphered the object Belen had exposed. A dead body. Which, considering the plague’s speed and the marauders, wasn’t a surprise.
“That’s why I tripped,” Kerrick said. “The forest doesn’t consider a dead body to be an intruder.”
“Yeah, it’s plant food now,” Quain muttered.
Belen discovered more lumps in the snow. Again, no big shock. Every survivor had seen or found a plague victim. As the others brushed the snow away, revealing more bodies, I examined the man who had tripped Kerrick.
Thick beard, long hair and scars on his face, he appeared to be around twenty years old. He was curled up on his side with his arms crossed over his stomach. A futile gesture since most of his intestines lay next to him. I looked closer at the jagged flesh and bite marks on his body. Scavengers or killers?
“Something munched on this one,” Belen called.
“Half this guy’s face has been eaten off,” Loren said.
“Uh, guys.” Quain’s voice shook. “I think I found one of the culprits.”
We joined him. He had uncovered a huge ufa. Kerrick took a step back as soon as he saw it. An automatic reaction, but I couldn’t fault him. The beast was six feet long with gray and black brindled fur covering about two hundred pounds of pure muscle. Two nasty-looking teeth curved down from its upper jaw. Black blood stained its front claws.
We uncovered fourteen bodies, but only one ufa. Although there were signs of many more animals. But it was hard to determine if the animals killed them or just stopped by for an easy meal.
“Marauders out on a raid, or returning from one,” Kerrick said.
“How can you tell?” I asked.
“Unkempt appearance. Well armed. Battle scars. Mostly men. They leave the weaker members back at their base camp.”
“What should we do with the bodies?” Belen asked.
“Nothing. As Quain said, they’re plant food.”
“Come spring, they’ll reek. Aren’t there any hungry Death Lilys around?” Quain asked, half joking.
“They don’t deserve the honor,” I said with surprising vehemence.
The guys peered at me as if I had lost my mind. Perhaps I had.
As we hiked west through the foothills, we encountered two more bands of snow-covered dead marauders that day. And another three the next. But no slain ufas. Kerrick’s scowl deepened with each discovery. The snow meant they all died before the big storm seventeen days ago, far enough in the past to give us some comfort, but any consolation we scraped together slipped away by the sheer number of dead.
“Now we know why it’s so quiet,” Quain said.
When we set out on the third morning, we braced for more carnage, but nothing could prepare us for the next discovery.
This group of marauders had been killed like the others. However, their bodies were not covered by snow. Blood, guts, mud and bodily fluids stained the white snow. Ufa tracks marked the edges.
Kerrick ordered us to remain behind while he followed the tracks.
While he was gone, I examined the dead. Same story as the other groups we had found. The only difference was the timing. I estimated they had been killed about ten to twelve days ago.
“Avry, you do know how creepy that is. Don’t you?” Quain asked.
“What’s creepy?”
“Your fascination with the dead. It doesn’t take a healer to know these guys were killed by packs of wild ufas.”
“It’s not a fascination. More like curiosity. Besides, I’m beginning to suspect they weren’t killed by the animals. Don’t you think it’s unusual for all of the victims to be lying on their stomachs?”
“Or what’s left of their stomachs.” Loren pointed to mangled pile of intestines next to one body. “Actually, I think it’s odd that the ufas keep attacking when they should be well fed by now.”
“Unless there’s more than one pack,” Quain said.
“Oh, there’s a happy thought.” Loren scowled at him. “If it wasn’t ufas, then who or what attacked them?” he asked me.
“I’m not sure.” I crossed to the man Loren had indicated, and tried to roll him over. He was too heavy and stiff.
“That’s gross,” Quain said.
“Come help me,” I said.
“No way.”
“Sissy,” Belen said. He grabbed the dead man’s shoulder and hip, pulling him over. “What are you thinking?”
I studied the gaping hole that had been the man’s stomach. Unlike some of the others, the cuts appeared to be from a blade and not teeth. “From the extent and location of the damage, he would have fallen onto his back if attacked by an ufa.” I examined the snow around the victim. “The ufa wouldn’t have turned him over.”