He didn’t answer and I looked back to see that his eyes were already closed. It seemed that I had at least a few hours to kill before we would move again, which was fine. I was eager to make it to Conall Castle, but my legs were none too eager to get back on a horse.
My stomach growled, and I looked around miserably at the vast emptiness. I’d never in my life appreciated the heart-clogging goodness of any fast-food restaurant the way I did in the moment. I’d not had time to think about food when I’d fled, and I expected that since Baodan hadn’t intended to leave on another journey seconds after arriving home that he had little in the way of food with him.
He would be forced to hunt or gather something because Lord knew I didn’t know how to do it. I couldn’t stand the thought of being totally useless though. So as I marched around the wilderness, an idea of how I could help came to mind.
As a small child, I lived in an endless bounce of foster homes until I found Lilly. To be honest, I didn’t remember much about most of them. It was a dark, lonely existence, and each time I entered a new home, I knew it would only be for a short period.
I did, however, remember one family very well. They’d been kind enough, but their real children never took to me. In the end, it just didn’t work out. They were big into camping and we went often. I hated most of it, but I loved watching the dad build a fire. He created it the old-fashioned way with kindling and wood, said he learned it in Boy Scouts.
I’d been far too little at the time to try, but it occurred to me that perhaps I could give it a try now. Unless all Baodan gathered was berries, we would need to build a fire at some point. I could go ahead and get it started for him because there was no way in hell that I would eat raw meat. Hopefully by the time I gathered some kindling and found wood that would work, he would be rested enough to wake up and get me some food.
It took me a long time to find enough small branches and kindling to make anything work, but eventually I thought I had enough adequate materials to give it a go. I sat down to the task at hand and got to work, very quickly realizing what a complete and utter idiot I was.
I clearly missed some part of the equation because no matter how fast I ran my fingers up and down the pointed stick, not even a smidge of smoke rose out of the small pile. I got a little carried away with it though, and I continued to twirl my hands up and down the stick until my palms were red, only stopping at the sound of a stranger’s voice behind me.
“Do ye need some help there, lass? Ye are no going to build a fire that way.”
I turned to see a rather wild looking man make his way toward me. He had no horse, and it appeared as if he had traveled for some time. More than that really, he looked as if his home was amongst the trees. His hair a tangled mess, I could smell him as he approached, but he seemed harmless enough.
Maybe the stranger could help me get the fire started and then take his leave before Baodan woke, then I could impress him with my fire skills. “Yes, please. I’m afraid I really don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Aye, I can see that. Hand me that wee stick that yer holding.”
He crouched down beside me, and I extended it in his direction as he pulled out a dirk and went to work on the stick, slowly shaping it into a much more pronounced point. Once he finished, he completely rearranged my pile and then moved to stand behind me. “It should be easier now, lass. Place yer hands back the way ye had them.”
I did and he crouched down and hesitated. I turned around to smile at him. “It’s ok. You can show me.”
He grinned a nearly toothless smile and scooted closer so that he could wrap his arms around my back as he placed his hands over my own. Together we spun the stick. Just as smoke started to build at its base, Baodan’s voice boomed through the trees.
“I would appreciate it, sir, if ye would take yer hands off me wife.”
Chapter 15
The Dungeons of McMillan Castle
Eoghanan hoped to capture the alchemist and secure him inside the dungeons quickly enough so that he could be back outside Mitsy’s door by morning. It proved impossible. While he secured the man easily enough, he had to sneak him into the dungeon and, despite the man’s small stature, he’d struggled to move his unconscious prisoner down that many stairs.
By the time the alchemist was inside a cell and regained consciousness, most of the morning passed. Every moment Eoghanan spent away from Mitsy’s door, his worry grew for her. He needed to protect her, but he also needed to protect his family from the danger that lived among them. He looked up at the small window near the top of the cell. Seeing that the sun was past its midpoint, he decided now was his best time to move.