The Real Cure

 



"You are too loud," Greenfoot whispered more than once as we traversed the endless forest. "Can you breathe less?"

I suspected my little Yunni guide with elaborate, dyed hair would be happy enough if I stopped breathing permanently.

But, So far, he had proven trustworthy, although I still sensed he was annoyed at being picked to guide me. The Yunni chief, a withered creature even smaller than my guide had insisted that his nephew Greenfoot lead me away from their hunting territory as expeditiously as possible.

"Stop," Greenfoot hissed. "They are watching us."

I stopped and knelt behind Greenfoot so I could hear him better.

"Greetings," he called into the empty forest. "I am Greenfoot of the North Clan. I am taking my friend to the White River."

"What is his business in Yunni lands?" The voice was close, but I still could not see the speaker.

"He is lost and confused. You know the Big People cannot find their way in a forest," Greenfoot said. It wasn't entirely a lie, but it made me seem more witless than necessary.

As if on command, five Yunni archers materialized in an arc before us.

"Do you speak the common tongue," the leader asked me.

"I do, sir."

"Why are you blundering through our forest and spooking the deer?"

"I am a healer. I was told herbs were here that could help those with plague."

"Did you find any?"

"I found some mushrooms and a yellow fern that I was told to seek." Also not a lie, but not the entire truth either. I had also found a cavern entrance strewn with the dusty bones of warriors clad in ancient Elvenari armor.

I patted my pouch and pulled out a cloth with ferns and mushrooms. In the bottom of my pouch, hidden in my fire kit, was a bracelet with a green gem plucked from a corpse's wrist.

This is what was going to stop the plague.




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