Where Fire Blazes - Part 3

Here is part 3 of "Where Fire Blazes." To review or read the previous parts, click on the links below.

Part 1

Part 2

My captor released my shoulder, and I cautiously stepped out of his reach. Twinkling eyes or no, I had no clue who he was. He seemed to sense my leeriness and folded his arms inside his mantle. Then he spoke again in that soft tone of his. “Would you like to warm yourself by my fire?”

The earlier effect his words had on me started all over again. No one besides Viho had ever spoke such warm words to me. How I desperately wanted to say yes! Instead I froze. With my feet planted firmly in the middle of the road, I stared dumbly up at him, my mouth agape.

“Well, suit yourself.” He shrugged his shoulders and ambled back towards his camp.

Just then the bitter wind whipped about my bare legs, sending me stumbling after the reeking man despite the fears still churning inside my addled brain.

Moments later I was bundled up in the stranger's blanket by his crackling fire. A bowl of steaming hot soup warmed my icy fingers. The man sat silently the other side of the fire, watching me intently. Cautiously I tipped the bowl up to my lips and took a quick sip. “Mmmmm, this is good!” I mouthed over my burnt tongue.

The man chuckled. “So you can speak!” he teased. “Now tell me, do you have a name?”

“Hidi,” I spoke between sips.

“Pretty name!” A smile spread across his face revealing a multitude of wrinkles. Streaks of silver through his black hair and beard were also now visible in the fire light. “I am Hajile. Now tell me, please, what are you doing traveling by yourself in the middle of the night?”

Tears stung my eyes as I thought of the reason for my foolish trip. I wasn't even sure whether or not I wanted to reveal my story yet. “Umm...I'm on a mission,” I finally choked out.

“Oh?” Hajile leaned forward, his bushy eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What sort of a mission?”

“I don't really want to talk about it.” I tried to ignore his questioning look and instead examined the chunks of potato in my soup.

“Well, then,” Hajile stood and shifted the logs in the fire. “Maybe you'll want to talk about it tomorrow.”

“Maybe...” I murmured.

Hajile stretched and released a low yawn. “I'm going to take a little walk. You stay by the fire, okay?”

I nodded, and he turned to leave. “Wait!” I shouted after him. “Have you heard of the Ring of Fire?”

Hajile spun back around. His face was somber. “I have. Why do you ask?”

“I am searching for it or them or whoever it is. It's very important that I find them.” I tried to force the urgency into my voice, but my fatigue left me sounding like a small frightened mouse.

Hajile's forehead creased, and one of his hands reached up to stroke his beard. The next thing I knew, he was in front of me, breathing his foul breath into my face. “If at all possible,” he growled, “stay as far away from that group as possible. Have nothing to do with them.” Then he was gone, stomping through the long grasses of the valley. I sat there stunned, choking on the memory of his stench.

Something wet and warm in my lap woke me from my hypnotized state. I glanced down to find soup and potatoes drenching my dress, but I hardly payed it any mind. All I knew is I had to get away from this man and his camp. My feet swished through the grass as I ran for the tree line. If I could hide myself deep enough into the dark clutches of the forest, surely he'd never find me.