Soul Fire Sale, chapter 14.

Here we go, have this one. Please enjoy.

Walking sucked. This was a true-ism that people could reliably take with them from one life to the next. Any life at all. It was even worse going uphill of course; and even if your body was young and fit, you would feel the burn eventually.

Oliver the crazy was walking alongside me a good twenty feet away so as not to trigger Loam's protective side, sweating like a pig in near freezing weather and inhaling far too deeply.

Every few minutes he'd hit me with the standard: "Smell that wonderful mountain air!"

As if I couldn't smell it over here, without trying to inhale all the air on the mountain with each breath.

We were getting close to the snow cap, and we should probably make a camp before we did, just because setting up a tent or sleeping in open air sucked in snow. We might also need to gather some things down here before we went up there... things like firewood or food. You could never have too much food.

We should also stay in the tree line in case those giant birds were still flying around.

It wasn't terribly dark yet. We could push for another hour or more. But we had time; we'd gained some through our earlier flight.

I halted, and Oliver went on another few steps before he noticed. When he turned back, I pointed up, then ahead at the thinning tree cover.

"Right. You're right. We're in no hurry."

I found a likely enough place, just a few extra steps away. "Gather some sticks, if you would. About three feet long and an inch wide."

Oliver had the grace to look confused: "Firewood?"

"Not unless we need to. I want stakes - something placed around the camp to trip up potential intruders."

It was too much work to dig pit traps, but a nice ankle-biting palisade of dragon's teeth could go a long way towards securing us against land based enemies.

"Ambitious. Alright, I'll see what I can do."

Even if what Oliver came back with was half rotted, it would be enough for a tripwire of sorts. I did have enough twine to go around the majority of any camp I set, but I'd rather avoid that if possible; re-rolling a ball of twine was a major pain.

My job was to ensure the ground was free of litter and sharp objects, so we could set up without being stabbed in the night ourselves.

The magic broom worked well enough - even as it let me know it did not like the task it was being used for, heating up in my hands to a temperature just under burning.

The stones, as few as they were, had to be dug out, and that took a little. I set them aside; it wasn't enough for a fire pit, even a small one, but they were a good start. We could also use them for the old Indian trick if it got too cold.

Who was I kidding? It was going to get too cold.

I could cheat a little here. I traced out a circle on the newly cleared ground. "Loam, make a round pit half a foot deep, and use the soil to make a small wall around it. Three inches or so, then harden both."

Loam stepped forward as I stepped back, and did exactly as ordered. It was nice, and after she was done, I piled the stones around it, just on the outer side.

Right, I should be nice so she doesn't go terminator later. "Thank you. Step back now."

I took what wood I could find near me and started the tee-pee, which was the superior way to have a campfire, if you needed a campfire.

Loam stepped back, but I felt a flicker... surprise? Oh, don't tell me that was the first time I'd thanked her. I was so screwed if that was the case; she'd be Arnold the minute she achieved sentience.

I was now pretty certain she would; I just had that kind of luck. After all, how many people would get summoned to another world without being the target of the spell? Talk about unlucky....

Oliver made his way back, his arms empty but enough wood floating beside him to feed a fire for a few hours. "We're going to need more than that."

Oliver glanced at the fire pit. "Yeah, I know. Most of this is for the traps you wanted. I'll go back out."

He let the stack drop and left again without another word. Was he mad over something? I almost yelled for him to stick close... but managed not to. I didn't want to add to whatever it was.

He had a good head on his shoulders; he'd at least make some noise if he encountered something.

I finished up the perfect fire and moved on to the traps. Three sticks, all sharpened to points on both ends, and lashed together so that they would prop each other up. Set one every five feet around the camp, and anything trying to get to us in the dark was going to stick itself. Not too effective, as far as measures went, but it would make me feel better.

I actually had enough sticks for the job if I squinted and moved a few traps a bit farther apart. Oliver came back just as I finished, with both his arms and the air full. Enough firewood for a week. Not that I was complaining.

I made sure to tell him thank you as he stacked it all near the fire pit, and received a curt "You're welcome."

Next was the tent. We had managed to get a cloth tent at the village; the seamstress had put it together. I'd had to pay her for it, but it was a cheap price to pay for keeping the rain and snow off your head.

No, wait. This won't do; the tent was a nice white, which stood out a little too well, and it only had one small window you could open at the back - so with the flaps shut, you couldn't see who was sneaking up on you. Not a good idea here.

I dragged out our trusty old tarp instead, and started stringing it between the nearest trees. Today, I learned why the soldiers here favored the tarps for themselves instead of tents like the nobles. Well, probably.

Oliver watched, but said nothing; he was working on making sure our bags and food were out of the reach of animals. I wasn't sure hanging them from a tree would do the job, but it was surely better than having our food on the ground next to us. Bears were a thing here; I'd checked.

Our stuff was up, the tarp was hung, and now was time for comfort. A nice recent stump made a nice seat once I was sure it was flat enough and I wouldn't get splinters in a tender place, and Oliver brought a log up for his own use. Loam simply hunched beside me, her sword in hand. I felt a flicker of what I could only call anticipation.

She was close enough; I patted her shoulder. "Watch over us. Make sure we aren't killed by something, but don't kill any humans unless it saves our lives."

Loam lunged up and turned smoothly, shouldering her sword and taking three steps in order to face out into the growing dark. The sheer amount of purpose I felt radiating from her was almost painful.

Even Oliver was looking; could he feel it? He shrugged. "That's the first time you included me as an equal partner."

Oh. "Don't feel too honored; I'm pretty sure she still prioritizes my life over yours."

"I've no doubt," he replied, poking the growing fire with a stick. "Still, it's nice to know you're coming around to me."

What was he thinking? "Of course I trust you. You need me for a certain something."

Oliver made a show of looking around. "Even here?"

"Better safe than sorry."

Oliver shook his head. "You're right, I guess. So, what's for dinner?"

"The bread I brought. I've got a selection of jams for it to add a little something, and if you want, we can make sandwiches out of the rabbit meat I packed."

"Right, perishables first. I shouldn't have bothered asking."

Hes right, he shouldn't. But I already knew he wasn't all that outdoorsy. Not that I was either, so I should be patient. "There are no stupid questions."

"Just stupid people," Oliver clapped back immediately with a smile.

"So... want to play a game?"

What was he up to? "What kind of game?"

"No need for that look. You know how to play chess? I assume go is a... no go."

Ba dum tiss. "You're right, I don't know how to play go. But that doesn't mean you can't teach me. But if you have a chess set handy, sure, I know how to play that."

"Well, it so happens I do. I asked one of the villagers to carve me the pieces, and they went all out. He was scared, I think, the poor guy."

A pull into his pocket brought out a series of roughly carved pieces that were still mostly recognizable. All except for the knight of course, that horse head was a little sad looking. Half were slightly stained, just enough to tell they were supposed to be 'black'.

"Got a board?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, but we can section off the dirt here. I know how to draw a chess board; I did it plenty of times in school, as a way to pass the time."

Weird. "I thought you were a bit of a delinquent."

Maybe Japanese delinquents just hit different or something.

"I was," he admitted. "I got bored when I was forced to stay after class, and this was one of the things I'd do to pass the time. We even had a board carved into one of the desks."

That was more like it. I watched as he set it up; it looked fine as far as I remembered, and all the pieces fit. He held up his hands, a pawn hidden in either one. I chose and got black, so he wasted no time moving first, lunging the pawn left in his hand out.

A pretty standard move, all told, and I countered it with my own pawn from the opposite side.

Then we were off, playing something very close to speed chess in the firelight while the sun sank, snacking on bread and meat.

Oliver was good; he won the first one. I slowed down a bit for the second, and won the next two before it was too dark to do much of anything with our small fire.

Oliver sighed. "Well, I guess we should try and sleep."

Try was right; it was getting colder. But I had a solution for that. "Right. Pick some of these stones and put them in the holes under your half of the tarp, over there. Then put the dirt back over them."

I used my own stones to show him what I meant, pulling back our groundcloth and showing the divots I'd made.

The stones were hot, and would keep that heat for a while when buried. The heat would rise, and we'd be at least a little warmer up here on this freezing mountain than we would otherwise be.

"Oh, smart. I wondered about those."

"Yeah, ancient man had all kinds of tricks like that." Of course, I only knew one or two of them, but I was hoping that was enough.

"We setting a watch?"

I looked at Loam, with her eyes still on the darkness beyond; every thirty seconds or so she shifted to look in a new direction, like some sort of demented humanoid lighthouse.

"I meant other than her."

It was a prudent suggestion. "We can if you want. First or second?"

Oliver started putting his stones back, hissing when he handled one a little too long and burned himself. "I'll go first. You have a nice nap."

Great, now he jinxed it. Jinxed it by being awake and near me when I was trying to sleep. I rolled over and did my best.

I must have done it because a noise woke me up; a loud noise, and one I didn't recognize. Wait, this wasn't my apartment... this was a forest!

I sprang up to find Loam in front of me, her sword naked and dripping red in her hand. Beyond the now banked fire was a shape, a shadow. Something huge and hump-backed.

Something gleamed in the firelight; a horn? No, a tusk. Oliver was just now stirring next to me; he'd been slumped over but still seated.

Loam moved, lunging forward, and the squeal was loud enough to deafen. A pig? A giant boar?

I cast, my spell flowing from my lips and sinking into the dark ground around us.

A second later, something came up.  

There was no breeze, so Oliver should be fine. The boar, though, or whatever it was?

It sneezed once, then again as my miasma hit it. Then it dropped like the proverbial stone, and Loam finished it off.

I cut the spell immediately, just in time for Oliver to take a step forward and get a whiff. Luckily, that little bit wouldn't hurt him too badly.

The stuff stank, but it was a good, natural stink. Unlike the - yes, it was a boar. We weren't getting attacked by anything else, it seemed; Loam wasn't moving.

"Loam, drag this corpse away from the camp. Fifty feet should be fine."

We should leave. A corpse and all the blood would attract predators. It was maybe two in the morning, which was far too early for this, but needs must.

I turned to Oliver. "We need to leave, now. Start packing."

To his credit, the man didn't argue.

Shit, our groundcloth got all bloody. Thankfully, nothing had seeped around and hit any cloth that we couldn't clean yet. Loam had already begun dragging the boar that was five times her size away, and that was making a trench for the blood to pool in.

I pulled the tarp up carefully, getting as much of the blood to run off it as possible, then applied water from my canteen; good enough. It wouldn't stain since the stuff was treated, but the scent... Some of the herbs I had would help. The more common ones, of course, I wasn't that crazy.

But that reminded me. Loam was already back, standing straight, her sword still dripping. I held out a large fern leaf: "Loam, clean your sword with this. Fold it in half, and drag it along the edge, carefully."

She... no, that wouldn't work. "Loam, stop. Hold your sword up in front of you."

She moved as I told her. I took the leaf, folded it like I had told her too, and carefully dragged it along the edge, with just enough pressure to take the blood off before it dried there. "See? Like this. This is how you clean your sword."

I was certain she could learn, now. Certain she could get this, since she was already piecing together so much more.

Oliver had to ruin it, of course. "People usually use cloths for that."

He backed up a step when I turned. "We don't have a cloth for the purpose right now, and even if we did, the idea is not to carry the scent of fresh blood on us if possible. To at least dilute it as much as we can, so every predator within fifty miles doesn't track us down. So the leaf is better."

I wasn't going to leave something as valuable as cloth behind when we didn't have to, bloody or not. I knew the equipment we got from the fort was anti-staining, but the new clothes? We were lucky I'd reacted quickly enough, or that boar would have bled on everything.

"You have a point," Oliver admitted at last. I turned back to find Loam with another leaf, rubbing her sword over and over, back and forth.

"Loam you can stop now. It's as clean as we can get it."

My creation stopped, and dropped the leaf next to the one I'd dropped. She seemed satisfied, somehow.

"Loam, guard us from all threats."

I started grabbing my stuff; just stuffing it in my bag worked, until the tarp. I had to carefully untie the heavy twine I'd used and pack it as folded as possible. "Oliver, do me a favor and break down the traps. You can easily untie them and put the twine back on the roll."

I handed him the ball I'd used, and he sighed. "Right. Got it."

It took me three tries to pack the tarp neat enough to go back into the bag for it. Because it always did. Then I rolled the groundcloth up, and if anyone saw me use more fern leaves to work on the corner that had been bloodied, they didn't comment.

Not that Loam would, she was both on my side and very busy making sure we didn't die.

Oliver came back with a larger but messier ball of twine to hand off just as I finished up: "I can't believe you tied them with a bow knot."

"Why not? It works, if you lash the sticks together enough."

Oliver shrugged, and I did my best to look around. "We missing anything?"

"Just one thing," he replied, and promptly untied the bag holding our food and lowering it.

Right, it wouldn't do to forget that. Also, last order of business, since nothing was attacking us yet. "Loam, I want you to go over to the corpse there, and carefully cut and remove the tusks from it."

Loam looked from me to the corpse, and I got a flicker of confusion.

Right. We were still learning. "Loam, follow me."

I walked over to the thing, which stank worse than its blood up close, and tapped the tusks. "Carefully remove these, without breaking them."

I could wrap them in leaves using the bits of twine, and if this world followed fantasy logic, the tusks would be worth something, once we got back to civilization. That or I could use them in some magic or other.

It was a shame I didn't have anything to seal up and carry the blood in, because I had definite uses for that. Next time.

I gave one last look around... and saw nothing we needed to keep. So I banked the already low fire by knocking the clay wall Loam had made over it, stomped on that for good measure, and got to stepping before the cold seeped too far into my bones I'd never get it out.

Seriously, it was well below freezing here. Even with magical clothes, it was beyond chilly.

Loam was close, and I hadn't ordered her to follow me. She knew; either that or she was keeping my previous order to guard us in mind somehow.

No, I knew the spell, that ritual by heart. There was no way for a clay golem to hold multiple commands at once. She was absolutely learning - which was another impossibility.

The only thing I could think of, was that it had something to do with me being a summoned hero somehow; that the ritual worked better for me than anyone else somehow.

Or that Loam was somehow going terminator and would cut me apart; something I was fairly sure it was too late to stop. I couldn't even let her wind down like a cheap watch because she had a good four hours plus of power yet, and I needed her. We couldn't trust anyone else here, Oliver and I, and as this morning proved, without a front line, we'd be dead.

Dying to a giant pig would be pretty mortifying; I wasn't sure I'd ever live it down.

The risk of Loam turning on me was supposedly non-existent, especially since I'd used my own blood, but I wasn't sure I trusted the knowledge shoved inside my head. Not fully.

"So, what was that spell you used?"

Great, Oliver felt like talking. Now, of all times. "Miasma. A powerful spell that draws poisons up from the ground. It can kill most living things, but it has some drawbacks."

"Would it have killed me if I'd have taken a whiff?"

I didn't see any reason to deny it: "Yes Oliver, you would have. I assumed that you would know enough to stay away from the dark green crap coming up from the ground, glowing faintly with swamp gas, in an area where no such cloud could exist. That and there was no breeze to turn it on us."

"Would it have killed you?" Oliver asked next.

Fairly calm of him. "No, I would have been able to resist it. Natural toxins are not something I'm weak to. You would have been fine so long as you didn't stay in it; I could have cured you."

I couldn't actually be a healer, but I could hum a few bars and fake it if I needed to; especially with toxins. Oliver knew this, we'd discussed it before.

"Right, don't stand in the green shit. A well known rule of our world."

Was it? At least the man wasn't angry. I wasn't sure I could deal with him angry at the moment.

"So how effective is the spell?" Oliver asked, now sounding genuinely curious above everything else.

He really needed to get the idea to shut up when we could be getting stalked by more pigs or something worse. "Very effective. It takes some time to ramp up, but it summons waves of poisons from the ground, each wave being more... poisonous. Until one works. Like I said before, it can kill most living things. The weaknesses are the ramp up time, how it won't always stay where you place it, and the time it can take to kill something."

We hadn't exactly gotten lucky with the boar, but the spell drew on nature, and there were some things under this mountain I'd want a mask for, clearly.

"Does it linger?" Oliver was looking around, as if a cloud of faintly glowing green was still out there hiding behind a tree or something, waiting like a killer in a cheap slasher movie.

"Nah, when I cut the mana, it drops. So, the remains of it are... on the ground there, and the Boar. They denature, so the stuff isn't poisonous anymore, so nothing to worry about there."

I wouldn't be killing any innocent squirrels or foxes or dogs; anything that managed to either eat the boar or stuff around the boar.

"Well, that's good then." Oliver admitted.

I had to confront him sometime; it might as well be now. "You fell asleep, didn't you? It was past time you should have woke me up - and the first warning I had was a boar tusk inches from my face."

Oliver had the good grace to look away and study something else out there in the darkness. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

I gave him one of my sunniest smiles. At least, I hoped that was what I was doing; I was using the same muscles one normally uses for smiles. "That's okay. I built Loam for this very reason. It is a trope that we, being squishy spell casters, are not fit and hardy like the warrior types and need our sleep more."

I appreciated the offer, or rather my paranoia did, but the simple fact of the matter is that if Loam was plotting something, we'd likely never see her coming unless she wanted us to.

A flicker of something... warmth, freshly baked bread, a fireplace in a dimly lit brick home... comfort?

A risked a glance at Loam; she was still marching alongside me, and her eyes were roaming everywhere, looking for threats. Her face was just as expressive as always - but I could feel her focus on me.

The link was two-way, because of course it was. She was sending me.. comfort? Either that or something very close to it, somehow.

There was a foreign creation, a foreign entity with a spirit from the beyond stuffed in it, linked to my head. Linked to my very soul, no less.

Could I do it too? I tried to focus and send images of my own; gifts received, deeds done - thanks. Gratitude.

She didn't pause or stop; but I would swear that just for a moment of a moment, she smiled.

I should focus on walking; I'd hate to undo all Loam's hard work by tripping on a root and breaking my neck.

"How long are we going to go?"

Right, Oliver looked to me, as if I knew. "At least an hour. We need to get far enough away that something won't find the boar and decide to make the effort to track us down for something fresher."

I didn't blame him for the question; I was still tired myself, so he had to be. With the terrain and lighting, we'd only be a few miles away at best. Maybe we should just keep moving and then sleep in the day? The trees would thin out more the higher we went, which brought its own issues. We'd be able to see everything sneaking up on us, but everything that wanted to sneak up on us would see us too.

There were ways I could fix that, potentially. Should I start now? "Oliver, how do you feel about stimulants?"

"Why, you got some coffee? Hiding some cola in that skirt somewhere?"

Wow, he must really be tired. "No, not coffee. A minor potion of sorts. It is a stimulant, though, and will keep you awake for a good six hours, guaranteed. I'm thinking we need to keep going and just sleep later in the day."

Oliver leaned closer and held out a hand. "Sure, hit me. If you have something to help me see better in the dark, I'll take that too."

No hesitation at all. Was I the one in the wrong, or was he? Questions to be asked when we are safe. I pulled the vial from my bag and slapped it into his hand. "I want that glass back. It should taste fine; there is mint in it."

Oliver threw it back, then promptly pulled a face. "It needs some work. Stuff is like cough medicine with a breath mint mixed in."

Everyone was a critic. "Yeah, but you aren't barfing, so I did something right."

Oliver stopped a moment, favoring me with a look of sheer incredulity. "Barfing? Really?"