The forested lands fell away, giving way to the Deadlands. Aeturnis had not journeyed far from home and nothing she had been told prepared her for the sight of miles and miles of utterly barren land. Nothing grew on the Deadlands, not a single leaf shone green in the sunlight. Just miles and miles of exposed rock and black soil. It was not like a desert - it was far, far worse. Amongst the barren grey wasteland, she caught a flickering motion from the corner of her eye. Life in that deadland?
The seizure struck hard. Her whole body stretched taut as a bow-string and then fell limp. At the same instance she released her grip and tumbled from the wagon.
They were crawling all over her, ugly insects as long as her fingers. Their feet were like little claws, tearing and seering. She swiped them away but couldn't get up and she was drowning, drowning...
Aeturnis's eyes opened with a start. She lay upon the dirt road, only a few feet from the border of the Deadlands. A concerned circle of faces peered down at her, well two anyhow - Madame Zufraia and Chaz, although she thought she detected concern on Farleigh's long face.
"Are ye okay?" Chaz asked, "did ye hurt yerself when ye fell?"
She shook her head. "No, I never hurt myself - my body just goes all limp..." Her vision took a moment longer to clear and she realised she was wrong. She had hurt herself - pain throbbed in her tailbone and the base of her tail ached. It had been a long way from the cart to the ground. She accepted Madame Zufraia's hand and staggered to her feet. Chaz impulsively threw his arms around her and she shrunk back from his embrace.2
"Sorry," he said, "w-we was just worried about ye. What happened? Why did ye fall and start all a-quivering like ye was fightin' shadows or someit?"
Aeturnis fiddled with her bracelet. "I have seizures," she said softly, "and when they seize me I sometimes see things... things that sometimes come true."
"The Sight." Madam Zufraia smiled. "Then my heart sang true. You are one of us."
"No," Aeturnis shook her head, "I'm not anyone. I just want to find my father." She turned away and clambered onto the wagon, shamed at the sympathy and embarrassed at the attention. She wasn't used to anyone but her mother treating her thusly. In all honestly, until her mother had died, there had been noone else in her life - no friends, no siblings, just her and her mother. She missed her mother so much - her kind words, the little stories she used to tell her before tucking her into bed at night. The way her mother brushed and braided her hair... everything.
What was she doing? Why would her father want her? A bastard child begotten on a forgotten lover?
No, she was on a fool's errand - there was nowhere she belonged.
Misanthropy was an appropriate name, after all.
She was broken from her reverie and self-induced moping by Chaz, clambering into the wagon behind her. He paused, brushing his hair out of his face. She wondered why he didn't just cut it short - it would certainly solve a lot of problems.
"Are ye okay?" He asked, sitting beside her on the narrow bench. "I didn't upset ye did I? Cos I'm sorry if I did, only I was ye know, worried 'bout ye and all when ye tumbled into the ground. What did ye see anyway?"
She shuddered, unable to meet his eyes. "Cockroaches," she said, "big cockroaches. They were crawling all over me."
"How big?"
"As long as my middle finger."
"Oh," he paled. "Ye better stay in the cart from 'ere in. The scritlings are nasty - but the blagh gru are worse. They ain't verra big, as far as the 'roaches out 'ere get, but they sure are nasty."
Not very big? Aeturnis shuddered, if those pests were not very big, she shuddered to think how big they did get. "Blagh gru? What sort of name is blagh gru?"
"The blood suckers. Alla the cockroaches out there're cannibals - there ain't nothing to eat but each other, but the blagh gru are different - they live on the road, preferrin' the taste o' Furrae blood to anything more natural. Don't worry," he added, 'I won't let them hurt ye."
The fire failed to banish the darkness, it merely cast it into further, formidable, gloom. Aeturnis huddled, knees pulled close to her chest and wrapped the blanket firmly about her shoulders.
"So Ae," Chaz said, with his usual chipper manner. "What type of beastie are ye? Ye didna look like any I've seen before."
Farleigh chuckled. "Silly boy,' he scolded, although it was good natured for once, "you don't talk to the ladies like that if you know what's good for you. Now, can you finish scrubbing down my hide if you've finished sticking your foot in your mouth? Walking gives me a helluva sweat."
"Yes sir," Chaz picked up the brush and began rubbing down the Sable Antelope's back. The Ungutaur had knelt down, resting his muscular forearms on the hood of the wagon. He looked exhausted and Aeturnis wasn't surprised. Poor Chaz fared little better. First he had prepared dinner, although Aeturnis had lent a helping hand with that, then he had rinsed off the dishes in the stream, and now he was rubbing down the exhausted Sable-taur. But he had not made a single word of complaint. Aeturnis had to admire that.
Rose had crawled up into her lap some time ago, and fallen asleep on her knee, arms trailing down the sides and tail thrashing now and then in her restlessness. Aeturnis dared not move for fear of disturbing her.
"It's okay Farleigh," she replied, "I'm a Huvryss, a hybrid. My father was a Lycaon." She smiled, suddenly shy, "a rock musician. My mother used to gather Blackemarr. She was an Aardwolf."
Chaz laid aside the brush - much to Farleigh's annoyance. He sat down beside Aeturnis and tentatively touched her arm. She flinched a little - Aeturnis did not really like people touching her, although Rose was so small and sweet she could not resist her, but did not draw away. The boy stared through his wild hair into her eyes. His own eyes were deep and blue and dark.
"I'm sorry for ye loss," he said, "ye mother must have been quite a woman. I hope ye find ye father." He then looked sadly away from her. "Do ye know why I'm here?"
"To slave for Farleigh?" She ventured, glancing nervously at the Sable-taur. But the only grunted with mild amusement.
"Nah," he said, "I'm the last - the last Warrah. My kin did out during the great wars. I was lucky - I managed to escape an' Madame Zufraia found me." He smiled sadly and clapped her on the back. "We're all misanthropes here."
On her knee Rose stirred, tossing in her sleep. Aeturnis gently pushed the little Mouse into a better position. Outside the circle of firelight the quiet chittering and scuttling of the skrittlings sent shivers down her spine.