Friday, March 11, 2011

Chapter 48

Pursuit

          After some time spent running, Mike, Callie, Jon, Edward, Tullam, and Bell stopped for a rest. They were all sweaty and heavily breathing. They collapsed to the ground in a semi-circle.
        “That was amazing what you did back there!” Tullam said to Mike, “How long have you had these powers?”
        “Oh, about fifteen minutes or so.” Mike replied.
        “What did you do to that Frellam?” Callie asked, “And since when do you speak Ugora?”
        “Did I mention I can read minds now?” Mike said, “Part of the Ma’jai Powers Expansion Pack, I suppose.”
        “It was more than that,” Callie said, “You…influenced his mind, right?”
        “Yes.”
        “Can you read ALL our minds?”
        “Uh…yes.”
        “Can you also---“
        “Well!” Mike said, clapping his hands together, “I think it’s time for more running.”
        “Wait a minute, why are we running anyway?” Jon asked, “It isn’t like they’re going to follow us, not after the royal firebombing you just gave them, Mike; or the mental de-pantsing of poor Sinsak.”
        Edward reacted to that image with a bark of laughter.
        “Jon has a point, Mike.” Callie said, “The Frellam will be too busy licking their wounds to come after us again.”
        “But how much will their fear hold them back once their hunger returns?” Mike asked, “We have a reprieve, yes; but will it last?”
        “Well, the wagon’s totaled.” Edward said, “Unless your powers include instant automotive repair, it’s gonna be a helluva long walk to Cathim.”
        “How long would that take?” Callie asked.
        “I don’t know.” Mike shrugged, “Days.”
        “If the Frellam do decide to come after us again,” Callie said, “We could be in for a running battle all the way.”
        “Even if they don’t, the woods hold many dangers come nightfall.” Tullam said, “My people could help you make safe passage out of these woods, in gratitude for saving Bell and me from the Frellam pit.”
        “Where is your group right now?” Jon asked.
        “About ten miles north-east of here.” Tullam replied.
        “That’ll take forever.” Edward said.
        “Not for us.” Bell said, “Me and Tullam can get there faster, tree to tree.”
        “Good idea,” said Mike, “You two go find your group; we’ll meet you halfway, or as far as we can make it.”
        “Too bad you couldn’t just carry us.” Edward said, half-jokingly.
        “I could carry you, child.” Tullam said to Edward, “You’re short and light of weight; but your friends are too big for us to carry.”
        Could I?” Edward piped up. The thought of traveling the treetops with the Bufaaru sounded wondrous.
        “If Tullam says it’s okay, sure.” Jon said, “But it’s your decision, Edward; you don’t need our permission.”
        Edward looked back at Tullam.
Tullam nodded.
        “Maybe I shouldn’t…” he said, suddenly indecisive, “The last time we got split up was disastrous. I’d feel guilty if something happened to you guys while I was gone.”
        “Likewise.” Mike said.
        “It’s your call, Ed.” Callie added.
        Edward considered it.
        If there was no further Frellam attack, he would simply be saving himself a ten-mile hike through the woods, by going with Tullam and Bell. If he didn’t go, and there WAS another attack? Well, Mike could defend himself, Callie could defend herself, and Jon (even without benefit of magic powers) could defend himself. But he? He would have to be protected.
        Better to go with the Bufaaru, than stay and be in the way.
        “I’ve decided,” Edward said, “I’ll go with Tullam and Bell.”
        It was a decision they would all come to regret.

        “You probably won’t see us for awhile.” Jon said to Edward.
        “Cause you know, we aren’t gonna be running the whole way.” Callie said, “Maybe fast walking, but not running.”
        “We should get going.” Bell said, “The sooner we’re off, the sooner we get there.”
        “Right.” Tullam said, “Come on, Edward. It’s time.”
        Edward first went and gave a hug each to his three friends.
“Until we meet again, take care of yourselves.” he said.
“You too, Ed.” said Callie.
“Have fun!” Mike said.
“Catch you later.” said Jon.
Edward waved goodbye, then got on Tullam’s back, and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Are you sure I’m not too heavy?” he asked.
“You’re more bulky than heavy.” Tullam said, “You’ll slow me down a little, but not too much. Take it easy on my neck, though.”
Edward was carried aloft as Tullam and Bell clambored up the nearest tree with amazing speed and agility.
Once at limb level, they threw themselves at far limbs with a remarkable abandon. Hand to hand from limb to limb they swung; upward and upward, followed by a downward release into gravity’s arms, just in time to catch another limb and start the upward climb again. Edward held on tight, as Mike, Callie, and Jon got left further and further behind.

“Alright guys, let’s go.” Mike said.
“I hope they’ll be okay.” Callie said.
“They’ll be okay,” Jon said, putting an arm around Callie as they walked, “Tullam and Bell are in their element. It’s us I’m worried about."

For Edward, it was an exhilarating ride; especially whenever they hit a pocket of trees that were very tall. They would travel up into dizzying heights. Deadly heights, if one was not on the back of a Bufaaru. During these points, Edward would tighten his grip until Tullam made choking noises, as a none too subtle hint to loosen up.
But after a while, having to hold on to Tullam’s neck got to be a chore. Edward’s arms were getting stiff and achey.
So, it was to Edward’s relief when they finally arrived at the road where they had been attacked by the Frellam. This, they would have to cross on foot, as the gap between the trees on one side of the road and the other, were more than could be jumped; even by Bufaaru.
Tullam and Bell climbed down the tree near the side of the road, and walked toward the back end of the demolished station wagon.
“Is that what you and your friends came in?” Bell asked.
“Yes.” Edward said. He wiggled his arms at his sides as he walked, to get blood circulating in them again.
Suddenly, Tullam and Bell both jerked their heads toward the road behind the wagon. Their Bufaaru ears twitched.
“What is it?” Edward asked.
“A vehicle approaches.” said Tullam.
“Someone is coming.” Bell added.
Edward looked at the road from whence he and his friends had come. He heard the sound of an automobile engine; faint at first, but getting louder as it got closer. Then he saw it.
It was a car…coming in fast.
There was no doubt in Edward’s mind about who it was.
“Oh no!” he said, as his stomach went queasy with dread.
“What is it, Edward?” Bell asked.
“It’s Mike and Callie’s dad.” Edward replied, “Crap, we gotta go! WE GOTTA GO! NOW!!”
They ran into the woods to the left of the wagon; his agitation alone told Tullam and Bell not to waste time with questions. Edward got on Tullam’s back again. They zipped up the nearest tree and were on their way.
Even as they sped through the trees, Tullam could feel the anxiety in the deathgrip Edward had on his neck.
“Could you loosen the noose a little?” he asked.
“Sorry.” Edward replied, and softened his grasp a bit.
“Why do you still fear?” Tullam asked, “Surely that man cannot follow us up here.”
“Perhaps not,” Edward said, “But the farther and faster we are away from him, the better. BELIEVE me.”
Influenced by Edward’s palpable fear, Bell chanced a look back, and saw something that made her gasp.

When Charles Longstreet saw the three figures running towards the woods, he knew right then who the short one was; he had been with Mike and Callie when Charles had cornered them in Metromax City.
“Bring that child back to me alive! NOW!” he shouted.
Upon the command, Babbidaz sprung out of the open car window in a single fluid leap. Once out, he reverted to his true form; and bounded with great leopard-like strides to where the figures had fled.
He took to the trees with the skill of a Bufaaru, and sliced through them with a speed that rivaled their own.

“Tullam!” Bell cried, “Look!”
Tullam stopped, looked back, and saw a monstrous beast in the distance, moving toward them with alarming rapidity.
“What the hell is THAT?!”
“Oh shike!” said Edward, “It’s a Morrtog! Go faster!”
Tullam turned and started moving. Having no burden, Bell moved faster, and was now ahead of them. They entered an area of really tall trees, and started their ascent.
No longer able to see where the Morrtog was behind them, Edward feared feeling it’s talons at his back.
(Bubba Death can smell you!)
Could almost feel them.
(He's coming for you! You and your friends!)
He saw Bell, ahead of them, take a quick look back; and the look of horror that passed through her face said it all. Tullam, who was starting to heave with tiredness, saw Bell’s face too, and had to stop to see; as well as to take a quick breather.
He stopped on a large tree limb, and looked back.
The Morrtog (as Edward referred to it) was still back there, working it’s way to them; it had lost little ground.
Bell joined them on the limb.
“Edward, let go.” Tullam said.
Edward did as told. He looked over at the approaching Morrtog; it would reach them in a minute, if they didn’t start moving again.
“What are we doing?” Edward asked.
“I can’t outrace that thing with Edward on my back.” Tullam said to Bell, “He’s slowing me down and tiring me out.”
“What are you proposing?” Edward asked, nervous at where this conversation seemed to be heading.
“You take him, Bell. I’ll wait for the thing here, and try to distract it as long as I can.”
“WHAT?!” asked Edward, “Are you crazy?! That thing’ll rip you to shreds!“
“Tullam,” Bell pleaded, “The boy’s right! You can’t---“
“THIS ISN’T A DEBATE!” Tullam shouted, “TAKE HIM, WIFE!”
Bell gave Edward her back; Edward took hold.
She and Tullam exchanged a quick and passionate kiss, then Bell departed with Edward.
“This is nuts!” Edward said.
Once Bell and Edward were gone, Tullam grabbed a long thin branch from above him, and broke it off it's limb. He held it before him, like a staff.
The Morrtog came in fast. It had no intention of stopping; and it had no intention of letting Tullam live, either.
It had to die. It and it’s female.
On general principles, but mostly to satisfy his itch to ram his talons into something alive, and make it dead.
It extended it’s arm, to catch Tullam on the fly, and dispatch him without having to stop; but Tullam leapt at the last moment, and hit Babbidaz on the back of the head with the branch, on his way over him. Caught by surprise, the Morrtog missed the limb he had intended to catch. Instead he hit another one at his midsection, doubled over, and fell.
Alas, Babbidaz did not fall to his death.
He managed to take hold of the tree itself, with his taloned claws, and began to crawl up it with roach-like skill.
Tullam fell too, but caught a limb with his tail, and flipped himself around and up; landing on his feet upon the limb. He did this with such speed, that he turned in time to see the beast double over the tree limb, and fall; but did not see it catch on. He strained to see where it had fallen, but saw no body. He wanted to leave, and rejoin Bell and Edward, but he had to make sure the beast was dead.
He jumped around, from limb to limb, looking for him; but Babbidaz skipped and jumped with demonic skill, out of Tullam’s field of vision. Until the time was right.
“Where are you?!” Tullam hissed under his breath.
“Right here.” a voice said, from behind him.
Tullam had no chance to turn around. Babbidaz shoved his talons deep into his back. There came then the horrible sounds of tearing flesh as Babbidaz picked Tullam up, held him aloft, then tossed him overhead.
Tullam died all the way down.

At the exact moment of her husband’s death, Bell was granted full knowledge of its happening. A lifetime spent by his side in happiness and great pain accorded her this smidgen of mystic connection; it hit her like a psychic hammer to her heart, shattering it.
“TULLAM!” she cried out.
She stopped on a limb, and turned around. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she hung her head in grief. The beast was coming, she knew; but no longer cared. There was no outrunning the beast.
“Ummm…Bell?” Edward said.
“I know.” she replied, but moved not one inch.
Edward let go of her, and sat down on the tree limb.
“Go, Bell.” he said.
“What?”
“I’ll let it take me.” Edward said, “It’ll have to let you go.”
“I can’t---“
“Yes you can!” Edward said, “Together we won’t make it. You know that. It's after ME anyway! Now hurry! There’s no time!”
She turned to go.
“I’m sorry, Edward.” she said, her back to him.
“I’m sorry too, Bell.” Edward said, “I’m sorry for everything. It’s all my fault.”
She took off.
Edward turned, and saw the Morrtog arrive. It had blood on it’s hand; Tullam’s blood. It stopped at Edward’s limb.
“Here I am.” said Edward.
“Such a brave child.” Babbidaz said, “And where, perhaps, is the charming female creature? My talon longs to rip her flesh!”
“Gone.” Edward replied.
“Oh, but I can still smell her! Owwm! Eyowwmm! Eyowwmm! She’s not far! I can still catch up to her! Owwm! Eyowwmm! Eyowwmm!
To Edward’s horror, the Morrtog started to go off after Bell.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” Edward screamed, “YOU CAME TO GET ME! ME!!”
Babbidaz stopped and turned around. “Yes! And I will come back for you, once I’m finished with her! After all…you’re not going anywhere!”
Edward was dumbstruck.
The Morrtog was right. If he tried to move from this spot, he would fall and die. At this height, he had nowhere to go. The Morrtog could go after Bell, kill her; then return at his leisure and retrieve him. Take him back to Papa Longstreet, where he would be made to betray Mike and Callie’s whereabouts. Then, of course, they would kill him. Worse, Longstreet might do to him what he did to Rak.
Edward had but one card left in his hand.
Was he strong enough to play it?
For the love of his friends…he found that he was indeed.
“HEY MORRTOG!!” he shouted as loud as he could.
Babbidaz turned around.
“CATCH ME!” Edward said, and pushed himself off the tree limb.
“NOOO!!” shouted Babbidaz, as Edward plummeted.
With astonishing speed, the Morrtog bounded back to the tree Edward had been on, and launched itself down after Edward, to catch him.
Edward fell a long time, or so it seemed to him. He turned as he fell, and at one point faced up to see the Morrtog, in free fall right above him; willing itself to reach him. Straining to do so. Then Edward’s body turned again, in time to see the ground rush up to meet him. His last thoughts were: I hope that stupid monster forgets himself and hits the ground after me!
No such luck. Babbidaz admitted defeat, and caught a stray vine, as gravity slammed Edward mercilessly into the ground.
Babbidaz slid down the vine, and walked over to where Edward had landed. He turned the body over; the boy’s eyes were open.
All thought of catching and killing the female Bufaaru left the Morrtog’s mind. The boy’s startling act of self-sacrifice had clearly been intended to buy her escape time.
Babbidaz was impressed. He wondered if Longstreet’s children had half the iron spine this child had just shown.
If so, their pursuit would be interesting.
With great respect, Babbidaz closed Edward’s eyes.
He picked up the body, and set off back to the road. He did not know if Longstreet would defile the boy’s memory by bringing him back with his polluted blood; but that was beyond his purview. He was a Morrtog, after all. His master’s wishes were law.  

Friday, March 4, 2011

Chapter 47

Ma’jai Rising

          “Back in Murgent,” Mike said, “As we were making our preparations to leave; Sparo pulled me aside for a private chat.”
        “About what?” Callie asked.
        “This…” Mike said, gesturing their surroundings in the Frellam pit, “Not this specific situation, of course; but of the possibility of our running into such a situation.”
        “What did he say?” asked Edward.

        “I hesitate to bring this up,” Sparo had said, “But considering the road you have chosen to take, or has chosen you, as the case may be; you might need to know this.”
        “What?” Mike had asked.
        “Remember when I said that your Ma’jai powers would come in slow; that it would be a long while before you’d have to worry about all that?”
        Mike nodded.
        “What I didn’t mention, was that there is a way, a known way, to jump-start that process; to force some of your powers into play much sooner, and develop quicker, than they would have otherwise. But this practice has its dangers; which is why it has always been discouraged, and why I hesitate to tell you about it at all. But I would be remiss to a fellow Ma’jai, if I didn’t.”
        “Why would I want to do that anyway?”
        “The time may come when you are the only thing that stands between your sister and your friends, and certain death.”
“I see your point,” Mike had said, “Let’s hear it, then.”
        “I want you to think back, during our battle in the basement, when I sent you flying up and out of the hotel. You were worn out and exhausted when I sent you up; yet when you came back down, you were re-energized. Do you remember how you accomplished that?”
        “Yes.” Mike said, “There was this greenish life-light inside everything that I was somehow able to summon to me. It gave me the strength to go back and continue the battle.”
        “We call that life-light, the ‘Voss Vedu’un’.” Sparo said, “It is the Divine Sea of Magic which every Ma’jai, great or small, can see and access. A free and abundant energy we use for strength and healing. It can also be used to jump-start a Ma’jai’s higher powers.”
        “How?” Mike had asked.

        “Well, what did he say?” Callie asked.
        “We don’t need to go into that,” Mike said, “Just know that I know, and can do it.”
        “You just don’t want to worry me about the dangers, do you?”
        “True, but its main danger is no worse than what you have faced, and will face again, when I ask you to do what I’m gonna ask you to do.”
        “I’m afraid you lost me there, hoss.” Callie said.
        “Even after I’ve jump-started my powers,” Mike said, “I’m still going to need your help. How much Conjuura ‘juice’ do you still have?”
        “A tad.” Callie replied.
        “We’re gonna need a lot more than that.” Mike said, “Can you do the creepy-eyes thing in the dark?”
        “The Malignium? I don’t know.” Callie replied, “Even if I could, I’d rather not. You don’t know how close I came to losing myself completely with that stuff. If I start up again, I don’t know what will happen.”
        Mike took her by the shoulders: “I can’t save us without you, Cal. You’re just going to have to be strong.”
        “Besides,” Jon said, “You’ll have US this time.”
        “To keep you from going bonkers again.” Edward added.
        Callie sighed deeply. “Okay, but who do I…?”
        “Tullam and Bell.” Mike said.
        The two Bufaaru looked up. They had been quietly listening to the conversation, but not understanding most of it.
        “Yes?” Bell asked.
        “How badly do you want to get outta here?” Mike asked.
        “That’s a ridiculous question,” Tullam retorted, “We would do anything to get the hell out of here!”
        “Good, cause we’re gonna ask something of you; something you might find it off-putting, or repellant.” Mike said, “But it will be necessary.”
        “We’ll do whatever you ask,” Bell said, “If it helps our escape.”
        Mike turned back to Callie. “Explain to them what you’re gonna try to do, and why. They both have nine years of war, grief, and loss with which to fuel you up. They may even thank you for the emotional release afterward. As for me, I’m gonna need some quiet time.”
        Mike sat down on the ground, got comfortable, and closed his eyes.
        In seconds, his spirit rose beyond the confines of the pit, and ascended to the heights. The ease with which he was now able to effect this was heartening. Below him, he saw the Frellam encampment, laid out like a map.
        He headed towards the deepness of the woods, and summoned the Voss Vedu’un to him.
        From the trees, ground, and living things, the greenish glowing energy rushed into him; like moisture to a sponge. He filled himself to bursting, but did not stop there.
        The key to the procedure was saturation, Sparo had informed him; that was also the chief of its dangers.
        Many were those who had tried a jump-start, stayed too long, and were unable to break away. Their spirits became lost in the Voss Vedu’un, and their bodies soon died without them.
        Mike filled himself still more, till his spectral vision was a green blur. The euphoria was almost beyond bearing.
        That was another danger. For some, the euphoria was addictive. They would return to the procedure again and again, for that buzz.
        Constant saturation for its own sake, Sparo had told him, Will dull a Ma’jai’s senses. It will stunt and blunt his powers to the point that the Ma’jai is no longer a Ma’jai. He will lose all of his powers bit by bit, until even the ability to summon the Voss Vedu’un is taken from him. Then, that Ma’jai will go mad.
        Mike kept the faces of his sister and friends before him, against the dangers of ensnarement. When at last he reached the crunch point of irresistible pull, he tore himself away, and returned to his body.
        He opened his eyes.
        “Mike’s back.” Edward said.
        Both he and Jon were looking at him strangely.
        “What are you two---?” Mike said, “Wait! You can see me?!”
        “It’s your eyes, Mike,” said Edward, in a creeped-out voice, “They’re glowing!
        “What?!”
        “Your eyes started glowing green behind your lids, Mike.” Jon said, “When you opened them, they looked bizarro!”
        Mike blinked, and shook his head.
        His vision was still tinged green, but he could feel the change in himself; the power. It extended itself within him like long-dormant wings, flapping open for the first time…aching to be used.
        The procedure had succeeded.
        “Callie’s finished.” Mike said. It wasn’t a question.
        “Yes,” said Edward, “She’s finished with both of them. You were out of town for awhile.”
        Didn’t feel long to me at all, Mike thought. He looked over and saw Tullam and Bell, looking numb and out of sorts; slumped in each other’s arms. Callie turned around, and Mike could see the euphoria of empowerment in her smile. He could relate.
        “I couldn’t trance ‘em in the dark.” Callie said, “But it turns out you don’t need the trance if your ‘victims’ are willing; and helpful, to boot. I had them clear their minds and focus on me, and was able to create a mind-link that way. It was difficult and clumsy, but it got the job done. What about you? Was the---?”
        “Yes, it was.” Mike said, “Now I think it’s time to go.”
        He held his hands out before him, and closed his fists tight. Into each, he willed a concentration of power.
        Something began to grow in those fists; began to push back. As his fingers were forced back, they could all see two deep blue glowing spheres, sparkling from within. They grew to about the size of tennis balls.
        “I’m gonna blow open the door.” Mike said, “What I need from you Cal, is to levitate me out of this hole. Then yourself, then the others.”
        “Will do.” Callie said.
        “And what do you intend to do, when the Frellam notice us flying out of here?” Jon asked, “Fight them all?”
        “All I need to do is scare the hell outta them.” Mike said.
        “I hope you’re---“
        “I am.” Mike said, “Now, everybody, get down.”
        The spheres flew up from Mike’s hands, and burst on contact with the door, creating an upward explosion that shredded the door to splinters; and sent the splinters several feet in the air. The sound was deafening.
        “CALLIE, NOW!” Mike shouted.
        Callie sent Mike flying upwards with a little too much force than necessary. He cleared the hole, an additional three feet, flipped over in mid-air, and landed on his back outside the hole’s perimeter.
        “OWWW!” Mike yowled.
        “Sorry!” said Callie, as she zipped out of the hole, “Still new at this!”
        Mike got up fast. “Start getting them out, Cal!” he said.
        Roars rang out, as Frellam started running towards them, fangs bared.
        The nearest of them leapt several feet into the air, in their direction. Mike raised a hand in a warding motion, and a large fireball erupted from it, hitting the Frellam square in the chest. It lit him up like dry brush, and sent him flailing backwards in a smoking arc of descent.
        Mike looked at his hand with bewilderment, as tiny tongues of flame danced on his fingertips, like pilot lights; the skin of his hand unaffected by any heat.
        “Well that’s even better!” he exclaimed.
        The fireball had come quicker to his hand than the blue sphere; easier too, as he had had to focus to create the sphere.
        Mike threw several successive fireballs at the nearest Frellam heading their way. These were smaller, and golf ball sized; just as incendiary, but with less kick.
        Now every Frellam in the encampment knew what was happening, and growls and roars filled the air.
        “Everyone’s out!” Callie shouted, from somewhere behind Mike.
        “Watch my back Cal!”
        No sooner had he said it, than Callie saw a young Frellam throw a spear at Mike’s back. Callie caught it with her power mid-flight, and sent it back at the Frellam, running him through.
        The Ridlaks then waded into the battle, but were buffeted with flaming Frellam hurled at them by Callie.
        Mike took his time with his next fireball, and produced an explosive wallop that sent both Ridlaks falling over and rolling on the ground.
        The Ridlaks got up, but backed away. Unaccustomed to being knocked on their asses; they switched over to a “wait and see” attitude.
        This seemed to deflate the situation.
The Frellam had them surrounded, but kept a fearful distance; there were no more outright attacks.
“What now?” Callie whispered.
“They don’t want to attack, but they’re not quite ready to let us go just yet.” Mike said, “I’m gonna hafta push ‘em a little more.”
Most of the Frellam with toasted hair and flesh burns were males. Yet despite their charred appearance, they still looked formidable, and capable of ripping arms off.
“Don’t get cocky, Mike.” Jon said, “We’re still in a shigload of danger.”
The first Frellam Mike had sent flying back aflame, worked his way to the head of the crowd. He had been put out quickly, but the singed hair on his chest, arms, and midsection, was beyond recall.
The other Frellam held him back. “Ru kel fa gar kruma, Sin!” they said to him, “Prok ralla!”
Kruma’s their word for sorcerer, Mike thought, Now how the hell do I know that?!
Mike realized for the first time that their minds were open to him; had been, perhaps, since he opened his eyes from the jump-start. He had simply been oblivious to it. Even Callie, Jon, Edward, and the Bufaaru’s minds were open to him. It was like being surrounded by bins without lids; at a mental glance, he could see what was on the top of their heads.
And if he should delve? Was that possible?
He tried, and found that it was.
He dipped into the mind of the rash Frellam being held back by his friends, and found the ease of doing so almost sickening; like a sharp knife sinking into a gut.
Sinsak was his name; the Frellam whose mind he was invading, and he was the leader of this tribe of Frellam. The tribe had lost a turf war with another Frellam tribe, and had come down south from the Skidderex Mountains, following the curving arm of the Vawx Trail all the way here. They found the two Ridlak brothers along the way, doing the same (themselves the last members of a family that had died out in the cold waste of Sartholter in the north), and took them in.
They were ferocious peoples, the Frellam and the Ridlaks; but ingrained within them both was a deep fear of magic, and those who wielded it. That fear was all that was holding them back from pressing their numerical advantage.
Better yet, Mike saw hidden in Sinsak, a terrible childhood fear that had traumatized him then, and haunted his nightmares still. A demonic figure called Skrudsraac.
Created by the ravings of an insane brother who had died young (perhaps murdered by his parents in the night), and his own dark imaginings; Skrudsraac was Sinsak’s personal boogieman from childhood. His fear of madness, personified.
Mike now had his weapon.
“SINSAK!” he shouted.
The Frellam stopped arguing among themselves, and looked over at Mike; their faces struck with fear.
“How do you know my name?” Sinsak asked, in his guttural language. He was now free of the arms that had been holding him back, but showed little desire to attack anymore.
Mike chose the necessary words and inflections of their language from Sinsak’s own head.
“Are you not Sinsak, of the Nukker Kleetch?” Mike asked, “Are you not the Kabazgah of this Kleetch?”
“Yes.” Sinsak answered, “And who are you, besides food?”
The threat was empty; Sinsak was creeped out.
Knowing the face of his fear, Mike bent Sinsak’s mind into seeing what he wanted it to see. To his horror, Sinsak saw Mike’s face melt away like hot cheese, and the mad gaze of his childhood terror gape back at him.
“I am Skrudsraac!” Mike intoned, making sure his voice sounded to Sinsak’s ears like a demonic growl, “He who sent your brother Kitchik into madness! I have come back for YOU!”
“You are NOT Skrudsraac!!” Sinsak shouted, but his voice quailed.
Mike was ready for this. “You would test me then? Fine, have a taste of madness!”
Mike flooded Sinsak’s poor head with a rush of all the nightmare images he could muster, taken from Sinsak’s own dreams, even the ones he had forgotten.  
“KEENAA!!” Sinsak screamed, covering his eyes with his hands, and falling to his knees.
The other Frellam looked shocked at his reaction. Their fear of Mike increased exponentially.
At last, Mike stopped.
“Try to harm us,” he whispered, his voice a low gravel to Sinsak’s ears alone, “And Kitchik’s fate is yours.”
“Let them go!” Sinsak yelled, eyes still shielded, “LET THEM GO!!”
The Frellam pulled back, and an opening appeared.
Mike, Callie, Jon, Edward, Tullam, and Bell walked through the main body of Frellam, all of whom shrank back as they passed.
Once they cleared the encampment and entered the woods again, they began to run.