Author's Note: Well, here is chapter two, just for you! Don't forget to review!
Disclaimer: This is so great! I own the majority of people in this chapter! Don't own Christine though…Rats!
"I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now, let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again." Ettiene De Grellet
Though it seemed an eternity that he would never forget, everything was ready in less than twenty minutes but Bera still worried that it had taken too long. In the back of the crumbling wagon, he had found seven girls of varying ages smashed together in the tiny space, all were dying before his eyes. Bound hand and foot with rough rope, it was clear they had been headed for the auction block, after which their new masters would repeatedly rent them out to ever-eager customers. Biting back a curse, he quickly sent some of the men back to the camp for blankets and coats along with another wagon and horses.
The shabby pony whinnied softly as it's frozen harness was cut from the stranded wagon. It had done all it could for now, but with rest, it would make some child very happy. Poor brute, he thought sadly, as he rubbed its nose, trying to sooth the aging beast. Thankfully ,the other wagon arrived just as they had managed to pry the wagon from the icy water in the ditch and quickly harnessed the new horses to it. It wasn't until they began moving some of the girls to the other wagon that they realized how bad things really were.
They were all malnourished and not one had clothing appropriate for the weather. Of the seven, four were completely unconscious, including the girl who had spoken to him, her pale face nearly as white as the snow. The others were almost as bad and could barely respond to their rescuer's questions and reassurances. Smothering them in the blankets, the men climbed in with them, seeking to warm the cold wagons with their own warmth, and hurried to return to the camp, where the healer was waiting.
Bastards, he vehemently thought, as the wagons rushed by the two bodies that lay untouched in the snow. May you burn in hell, for what you've done.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Surely there must be something more we can do for them?" he whispered, watching the four girls sleep in the pale lantern light of Vadoma's tent. The other three rescued girls were awake and sipping broth in the gypsies' tents, and were expected to make full recoveries, but the four in the witch's care might not. The two dark ones and the redhead were achingly close to death, but the pale girl was feverish, fighting not only to reanimate her frozen body but against some illness as well. He remembered her blue eyes, softly glowing in dark hell of the wagon framed with icy lashes, her golden hair frozen in curly waves about her ashen face as she whispered to him for help. God forbid that her desperate plea should be her last words.
"It is their choice now, to stay or go, I can do no more fore them," the gypsy woman gently whispered back, nodding to the three silent sleepers. Turning to the fourth, who lay twitching gently, she continued. "But the Skychild fights and yet remains beyond my skill to heal."
"Then she is lost?" he asked, already mourning her, wishing he had found them sooner, that he had been able to do more himself.
"I cannot say. You must ask the Nightwalker for aid. He is her only hope for salvation." Turning her dark eyes on his, she quietly regarded him with her intense gaze for a moment. Fighting against his sudden panic, he sternly willed his gaze to remain steady before nodding once and marching back into the swirling snow, to seek the aid of the dark magician who haunted the edges of the camp.
AN: So, any questions or comments? Make some up if you have to, just review!