Trapped

when the mass of bindings didn’t blind her with light.
    » Okay, « she said, putting one end of the staff on the ground and smiling at me. » This is just a little bit awesome. I’ve cast my first Druidic binding. «
    » Congratulations. I need you to cast two more before I can leave. «
    The smile disappeared. » Leave? «
    » To check on Oberon, remember? We’re not alone. «
    » Oh, yeah. «
    » Cast the bindings to increase your strength and speed. I don’t care which one you do first. «
    › Atticus, it’s super-spooky here. All the animals are quiet. ‹
    Coming soon, buddy. Almost ready .
    I cast the same two bindings on myself. She cast speed first, and once she was done she grinned. » I so want to spar with you now. «
    I was so proud of her and I wanted to hug her rather than spar, but then I’d have to start thinking about baseball, and this wasn’t a good time for that.
    » Keep that in mind. If I move quickly now, does that mess up your vision? «
    » No, I can still see the outlines. I can see the surface features, too, without getting overwhelmed. It’s like everything has this soft glow around it, and if I don’t focus on the glow I’ll be fine. «
    » Excellent. That’s exactly what you want. Now, I don’t know who’s out there. It might be a magic user. When I come back, I should look like this. If you see me plus something else—two different outlines, in other words—it’s not me. It’s something else, casting a glamour. Whack him. Or her. Or it. «
    » So that’s why you want me to have magical vision on— «
    » For positive ID. Right. Be back as soon as I can. Vigilance! «
    Casting camouflage on myself, I eased out of the cave and past the thornbushes to descend to the stream.
    Which way from the cave, Oberon?
    › West. I’m just south of the stream, where the watering hole is. ‹
    The watering hole was the outer limit of the range where I could still hear him in my mind. I began to mince his way, trying to keep quiet and scan the area for movement. And you haven’t seen anything in all this time?
    › Nope. ‹
    You’re not staring at the meat again, are you?
    › No, I swear. I’m not letting that tractor beam get hold of me again. ‹
    And you haven’t heard or smelled anything?
    › No. The fact that I’m not hearing anything is a bad sign. ‹
    Yes. Okay, I’m on my way, trying to move quickly but also quietly. I’m having the bushes move apart for me where necessary. I’m in camouflage .
    I didn’t hear anything either, except for the soft sounds of my own footfalls on the ground. Oberon was right. This was unnaturally quiet. Five minutes’ determined march through the growth brought me to the watering hole. Nothing moved except for the water in the stream.
    Walking south from there, it was less than a minute before I came upon Oberon and the steak.
    › Atticus, is that you? I hear something coming. ‹
    Yes. It’s me . I dissolved my camouflage so he could see me. Oberon’s tail wagged.
    › Saint Lassie be praised! ‹
    I examined the steak. Clearly it had been carefully placed. There was no dirt on the sides or top, as there would be if it had tumbled haphazardly from someone’s grasp. It was discolored in several places, more than would be expected by simple exposure to air; there were subtle shadings of red that Oberon’s canine eyes wouldn’t have picked up. Something had been sprinkled on it. What the poison was didn’t matter to me. What puzzled me was Oberon’s insistence that he’d seen no tracks nearby. I had doubted that because I figured he’d simply been blind to anything except the steak, but there truly were no tracks here except his and mine. That led me to several unsavory conclusions.
    It probably wasn’t a deity; a deity wouldn’t have silenced all the creatures. Still, it was something with the ability to manipulate the earth like a Druid—or it wasn’t touching the earth at all. Something that could fly.
    » We have to get back to Granuaile, « I said. » Right now! «
    That’s when I got an arrow in the back.

Chapter 11
    I should probably back up a wee bit. As I was telling Oberon we needed to return to the cave, his ears pricked up and he looked into the distance behind my right side. And then, saying nothing more than › Atticus! ‹ , he leapt at me, knocking me down. As a result—due to the fall—the arrow intended for the middle of my back hit me high in the left shoulder, scraping along the top of the