Chapter 2: The Storm Begins
Rab Sharnan pulled the saddle from the last horse, setting it down on the shelf built in to the stall and rubbing down the beast. The stable was large, especially for a town as small as the Hollow, but it often served as shelter for farm animals during Great Storms. With the added horses from the travelers, it was going to be cramped this time. Rab didn't relish the thought of cleaning it out after the storm had run its course, but everyone would have work to do after the rains stopped, and he'd take mucking out the stable over searching the woods for pieces of what used to be your home any day.
The sound of thunder crashed through the closed stable, momentarily blocking the howl of the wind, the horses stamping restlessly with the noise. None of them moved more than that, though, and that was telling. Rab had seen all sorts of horses growing up an innkeepers son, and he'd gotten to know the types pretty well. These weren't just normal riding or pack horses, they had been trained, taught to not fear sudden loud noises or other distractions. He'd seen a few merchants with horses like this, but more often than not they belonged to the mercenaries protecting the merchant. Hardened warriors and ex-soldiers, Rab had never liked their type. Most drank hard and boasted loudly, looking for a fight wherever they could get it. More than a few of them had made a pass at his mother, or even his sister, and some didn't like taking no for an answer. Even worse than them, though, were the ones who didn't drink, didn't boast, didn't do much at all except look at you. They all had the same eyes, no matter what, always that cold, dead look.
The warm thump of rain began to sound from the roof. Rab sighed, he had hoped to make it back into the inn before it had begun to rain, but that plan was through now. He resigned himself to getting wet, and finished with the horses. It hadn't taken him long, he had been doing this most of his life now, but he still had to cart the travelers' equipment into the inn, preferably without getting it soaked. The wheelbarrow he used when cleaning the stable would do fine, so long as he had enough oilcloth to wrap all the travelers' things.
By the time he had them all wrapped, with some of the waterproof cloth to spare but not enough to protect him, the rain had gone from a rough sprinkling to a downpour. The way the Hollow was set meant most of it would run down and out of the crescent of hills, but if this one was as bad as Rab feared it was going to get, then they might see some flooding in the town. He nibbled at his lower lip, pushing the stable door open slightly to check outside. It was very dark now, and the rain was like a gray sheet that obscured everything even further. Steeling himself for the rush of cold, he shoved the door open and wheeled the gear through. He was soaked through almost instantly, like he had jumped into one of the streams that went past the Hollow through the forest and hills. He pushed the door shut again and hurried towards the inn, and slipped in the new-muddied ground.
His feet went out from under him, his face coming down hard towards the cloth-wrapped equipment, too fast to catch himself or even begin to react. His nose smashed into the bundle and broke, blood spraying out and smearing across the oilcloth and his face as he slid from the cart onto the ground. If the equipment hadn't been carefully wrapped he might have hurt himself much worse, but at that moment all he could think about was the screaming agony of his face. He rolled onto his back, hands cupping his broken face as his legs thrashed in spasms of pain. He tried to scream but for the moment he couldn't find the breath, and blood was spilling down his throat. Whimpering and gasping he lurched onto his side and coughed out some of the blood, shielding his face from the stinging downpour as he began to sob. The instant pain of the broken nose dimmed, but he could feel the ominous beginnings of the throbbing ache that would last until the nose had healed.
He lay there on his side for quite some time, crying and moaning with the pain, letting the water wash around him as if he were a strangely shaped rock in a shallow stream. He would have lain there longer, but some deep sense suddenly spoke through the pain, warning him that there was something dangerous close by. He froze, eyes straining to look through the darkness and the rain. Then there was hot breath on his face, and he rolled to his back to stare into the unearthly silver eyes of a white wolf. Fear seized Rab for a moment, but it was gone quickly, and he scrambled to his knees, a pained smile coming to his face. The wolf blinked at him, and then wasn't a wolf anymore.
Rab had known the last Druid of the forest when he was a child. That man had been a friend to all the children of the Hollow, playing with them when he could, taking them out on wondrous hikes through the wilderness when he could convince their parents to let him. They had said he was over eighty years old, but he didn't look much older than twenty-five, and had never lost his youthful vitality. Even though the children had loved him, their parents had never trusted him fully. They were jealous of his unageing vigor, suspicious of his magical abilities, and most certainly afraid of his power to transform at will into a creature of the wild. His preferred form had been that of a great brown bear, and he had delighted in carrying Rab and his sister on his back, shambling through the forest to show them secret places where their parents had never gone.
When the old Druid died, no one had been expecting it. Some had thought that since he looked so young, he had somehow found a way to live forever at one with nature, never ageing, never dieing. Everyone felt his passing, and everyone mourned it. Even the elder townsfolk, those who had been wary of him, had realized that deep down they had really liked him, had known he was a good man. The year after he had died had been a hard one, the worst the town had seen in over a generation, and everyone knew it was because they no longer had a Druid in the woods to protect them.
When the townsfolk learned that a new Druid had come to the forest, they had sent out a party to find and greet whoever it was, welcoming them to the Hollow. Rab had been part of that group, just old enough to be included. When he had first caught sight of Shaia stepping out of a copse of trees that he could have sworn had been empty only a moment before, he knew that he had fallen in love. He'd been getting on nicely with the girls of the Hollow, and had thought that he was quick witted, but the at the mere sight of her he had been struck dumb. All sense left his head, and he had spent the rest of that first meeting trying not to gape at her. She was older than him, he knew that from the beginning, but she was barely over five feet tall, and her pointed ears, smooth skin and strange eyes had made her seem both young and experienced at the same time. He barely remembered the others from the Hollow talking with her, giving her the welcome they had meant, but also sounding a note of wariness. They had expected someone like the old Druid, perhaps a young man with a quick smile and the soft, leafy smell Rab always remembered about the man. Instead there was a beautiful, otherworldly woman who had agreed readily enough to helping the townsfolk when they needed it, but was too wild and too predatory to be safe for the young men and women of the Hollow. Rab just wanted to be left to drown in those silver eyes.
She had stayed her first night at the inn not long after that meeting. The midsummer festival had brought all the townsfolk and the local farmers together to celebrate, dance and feast. Shaia had come creeping in, careful and almost shy about intruding into the Hollow's close-knit circle of neighbors. She had been welcomed again, and treated well, though the people watched her closely to see what she would be like among so many people. Once she had relaxed her wild nature began to show through, as well as her astounding physicality. She was strong and lithe, hardy and quick. A sharp eye and a voracious appetite won her the respect of the farmers, and though she didn't know the local dances, she threw herself into them with an abandon that made Rab's blood run hot. She was a shining silver star amongst the people of the Hollow, and once he had found his voice he had insisted that she stay the night instead of going back to the forest. She had agreed, though reluctantly, and he had lain awake all that night thinking of her next door in his sister's room.
When he talked to the other boys of the town about her, he found he wasn't the only one who felt this way. Each one of them had found something about her excited them, in more ways than one. None of the other girls of the town had made them feel like they did when they saw her. It was like she was surrounded by some kind of light, something that made them just stare at her and do anything to get her to look at them, to smile at them. Normally, when several of the boys wanted one of the girls and admitted it to each other, there'd be some sort of contest to see who would get first rights to her. With Shaia none of them had wanted to do that, it hadn't seemed right somehow. They were content that they all felt the same way, and that they all knew they wanted her, and for some reason they couldn't explain, it was right for them to all feel that way. Their parents, of course, had taken this as a sure sign that she'd bewitched them all, and the town suddenly got a lot colder towards the young Druid, though they knew enough not to be rude or shut her out.
He blinked into the rain, and realized that she had been saying something to him. She looked at him, worry in her silver eyes, stray strands of hair matted to her face by the pounding rain, clothes soaked through, sticking to her body, showing off every curve. He shook his head again, forcing his mind to focus. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" He shouted at her, then winced as it made his broken nose sing agony through his face.
"I said I'm going to have to straighten your nose!" She said, coming in very close. "It will hurt, but try not to move!" She laid her hands on either side of his broken, bleeding nose, and he froze. Even through the pain he could feel the heat of a blush crawling up his face, thankfully lost in the dark and the rain and the blood. Then in a quick motion she brought her hands together over his nose and jerked it straight. He screamed at the top of his lungs as fresh suffering tore through him, but he did as she asked and managed to hold himself still. She smiled at him, and suddenly he forgot all about the pain, lost in those beautiful eyes. A soft glow distracted him, and he shifted his gaze to see her hand surrounded by a nimbus of cool blue light, carefully pressing her fingertips against his face. He blinked, and realized that the pain really was gone now, the bleeding had stopped and he felt as good as if he had woken up from a long, relaxing nap.
"Thank you," he said, though it was too quiet in the wind for her to hear him. She caught his meaning anyways, and brought a hand up to run through his wet hair. It was a gesture of affection that she had never used with him before, though he was sure it meant only that she was glad he hadn't been hurt any worse. She helped him to her feet, surprisingly strong for a girl her size, and he pointed towards the back door of the inn. She nodded, catching his meaning, and started for the door as he took up the wheelbarrow again, careful this time to avoid slipping. She had the door open for him when he got there, and shoved it shut as soon as he was in, cutting the sound of wind and rain down to a dull rumble.
"What were you doing out there?" She asked him as he turned from the cart.
"I was getting the guests' baggage," he replied.
"So they made it before the rains began," Shaia said, looking with interest at the cloth-wrapped bundles in the wheelbarrow.
"You know about the travelers?"
"I saw them coming in. I didn't know if they'd be able to get to the Hollow before the storm started to get really bad. I just got here myself, they must have ridden some more after I lost sight of them. How long have they been here?"
He shrugged, estimating as best he could in his head. "Half of an hour? Maybe a little more?"
Shaia hummed softly to herself at that, pulling her silver braid around to her front and squeezing along its length to get some of the water out while they were still in the storage area. "Could you please get your father? I'm going to have to bed here until the storm passes, and I'd like to know if there's anything I can do to make myself useful while I'm here."
"Yeah, of course," Rab said, reluctant to leave her, but moving already for the door to the kitchen and the rest of the Inn. "Rinni should have some clothes you could wear as well, I'll get those for you too."
"Thanks Rab, I appreciate it," she said, smiling at him again.
He stepped carefully into the kitchen, taking off his boots to avoid muddying up the kitchen floor and padded to the door connecting to the common room. He was almost there by the time he realized that neither his mother nor his sister were bustling about the kitchen, and when they were expecting farmers seeking refuge or had guests staying there was always one or the other of them getting things ready. He frowned at it, figuring he'd know in a moment what was about, and pushed into the common room.