Fellowship of Fear – Chapter 6 continues…

Chapter 6 : Trudging Towards Destiny…

Scene 3 : Saving Lynx

With each gasp of air a slow pump of blood would flow from the twin wounds in the beast’s sides. Hindral looked up at Gramstaf with despair in her eyes.
“Is there anything you can do Grammy?”
Gramstaf knelt next to the fading animal as he questioned Egl to himself, Well is there, demon? If we can do this Hindral will enter the fold for certain.
Yessss, and maybe even the young bard. I can do this but it will cost us both a little bit of our soulssss
Do it then, Hindral does not deserve this grief.
Gramstaf scowled to himself as the interior argument continued. He knelt down next to the mortally wounded animal and gently placed his palms on either side of the sword wound that still continued to leak blood.
“I’ll do what I can Miss Smik. But I make no promises…and even if I do succeed there will be a cost, there is always a cost…”
The old priest held Hindral’s gaze with his glimmering blue eyes for a moment more before nodding slightly and harumphing. He stared intently at the wound as he mumbled under his breath. Hindral could not tell what he was saying but by the tone she would have sworn he was having an argument with himself. Then her vision was dazzled by another bright blue flash, this time from the old priest’s hands. The air filled with the stench of ozone and cat-fear. There was a weak mewling from the big lynx and then its eyes closed and breathing slowed.
“You killed him!”
Hindral’s face reflected her growing panic. Gramstaf placedd his hand on her tiny shoulder to reassure her.
“Calm down, Miss Smik. The beast is merely sleeping off its panic. Look here, the wound is healed. Better than my expectations.”
Gramstaf directed her gaze to the bald white scar surrounded my blood-matted fur. She smiled and realized there would be a matching scar underneath him.
“We won’t know until the morning whether I healed the beast on the inside as well as the outside. So I suggest we get some much needed rest before our quest begins in earnest.”
“Grammy, you never did get around to mentioning where we are supposed to be headed…”
“Yes, I was rather rudely interrupted wasn’t I? We are heading to the final resting place of the Holy Grail and the birthplace of mortals here in the Celtic lands.”
“That is if we even want to go anywhere with a Demon of the Void, Man.” Kilabra grumbled in disgust. Gramstaf scowled slightly as he glanced in her direction.
“Don’t keep us in suspense Grammy. Where is that exactly?”
“We are headed to the Isle of Man, of course!”
His four companions looked at him in amusement and then it slowly dawned on him that he wasn’t making some kind of terrible pun. Hindral palmed her face as she shook her head in disbelief.

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