Jackson carried Tom into the woods, Sharon struggling to keep up. Suddenly, Tom let out a sharp cry, and fell back into unconsciousness.
"We have to get him to a doctor. Please!" Sharon pleaded.
"Your son is going to die soon, Sharon. But there is a flower in this forest which will save him, but it only grows in one place," said Jackson, negotiating the forest floor like an expert.
"I don't believe in any natural medicine nonsense!" Sharon started crying. "I just want my little Tom to be okay…"
"And he will be if we keep moving, I promise. It's not far."
Sharon had only just met the man, but he had risked life and limb to save them from the rock landslide, and there was something about him… Something unusual. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but his words carried a sort of command to them. A sense of calmness which she'd never heard before. He was the type of man that she could believe many would follow into battle, trusting him implicitly. And this was a battle, the battle for her son's life. She had no choice but to follow and hope that Jackson's calming demeanour was representative of him having everything in hand.
After a few minutes, they entered a clearing, the sun breaking through the dense forest above. At the center, there was what looked like an old stone cottage which had long since given in to the elements. The roof had crumbled, and what remained of its walls were covered in thick swathes of green moss and flowers.
Nearby, birds sang somewhere, but Sharon felt anything but serene.
"He's stopped breathing!" Sharon screamed, looking at Tom, his face turning blue.
"We're here," Jackson said calmly. He lay Tom's lifeless body on the ground and then walked over to the cottage ruins.
Tears ran down Sharon's cheeks. She was apoplectic. "We need to do CPR!"
Sharon started to blow into the little boy's mouth, and pressed on his chest, but he remained motionless.
Jackson returned. "Please Sharon, step aside."
With care and a gentility a man of his stature would not normally have had, Jackson crushed up a purple flower in his hand. He gripped it tightly, holding his fist over Tom's mouth.
"Help him. Please!" Sharon cried.
A purple liquid began dripping from the crushed leaves. It fell from Jackson's fist straight into Tom's mouth. After three drops, Jackson picked up Tom, held him in his hands and then gently rubbed his chest.
"Please, God… Please God, save him…" Sharon was not religious, but in this darkest of moments she was willing to try anything.
Tom gasped loudly. He breathed in deeply, and Sharon let out a cry of delight. She picked him up in her arms, and he slowly regained consciousness, his cheeks returning to their usual red rosy appearance.
Sharon hugged him close, crying, before turning to Jackson. "Thank you so, so much, Jackson. Thank you…"
"My pleasure," Jackson said, smiling at mother and child.
"Mom, what happened?" Tom said, now fully awake.
"This man… He's called Jackson… And he saved you… Twice," answered Sharon.
"Hello, Jackson. Are you a forest person?" Tom asked.
Jackson let out a loud laugh. "Yes, Tom, something like that."
"I would have sworn you were a shifter if it weren't for the fact that your eyes don't glow golden. One minute there was a giant bear in our car, and the next you were there."
Jackson dipped his head as if embarrassed. "The beast was probably frightened…"
"He sure terrified me!" said Sharon. "Thank you so much, Jackson, for everything, but I think we better get Tom to a hospital just in case."
"I'm afraid that'll be a little easier said than done. The road is completely blocked and it's the only way off the mountain, other than hiking through the forest, and I certainly wouldn't try that as there are a number of unseen cliffs which can swallow up even the most experienced outdoors person."
"But Tom needs help…" Sharon looked at her son, and although he looked fine, she was just terrified he'd take another attack.
"Tom?" asked Jackson.
"Yes?"
"Were you playing with a yellow flower with black spots on it before you got sick?"
Tom look guilty. "Yes… I didn't mean to… I was just in our back garden."
"That's called a sleeping lilly, and it's quite poisonous, and rare actually. Best stay away from them in the future, okay?" said Jackson, patting Tom on the head.
"Was that what started it, do you think?" asked Sharon.
"Yes. It slows a person's breathing until they go into a coma, Tom must have got some of the pollen in his mouth somehow, maybe from his hand."
"So you don't think it was asthma?"
"No, it wasn't asthma. He'll be fine."
"Then we better get going, maybe we can hike back to the house…"
"No, Sharon. There are things in these woods, night time is coming. My home is near here, and if you're willing, I think it would be best for you and Tom to spend a couple of nights until the road is cleared."
"We wouldn't want to be too much trouble."
"It's no trouble at all. I'll be glad of the company, what do you say?" His smile again was intoxicating, his voice soothing yet commanding.
"Okay, lead the way." It was either that or get lost in the middle of nowhere at night, and Sharon did not like the thought of that.
"Tom, you want a piggyback?" asked Jackson.
"Yeah!" he said with delight.
Climbing onto Jackson's back, Tom shouted "giddy-up!" and so Jackson obeyed, leading Sharon to where he had lived for a long, long time...
* * *
The alarm went up. Bells chiming throughout the town from the old church towers. The Elder hadn't heard them ring for over 50 years, but despite that, he had been expecting it. Ever since the leader of the boar shifters had told him that the Cabal were after him because he was a blackblood, the Elder had put certain safeguards in place.
He'd posted several of his best, miles into the forest which surrounded Swiftclaw town. They were to keep an eye out for any attack or unusual numbers of shifters in Swiftclaw forest. The fact that the town bells were ringing meant more than strange movements in the forest: It meant all out attack.
The Elder rushed down the main street, stopping outside the doctor's office.
"Bran!" He yelled. "It's time!"
Bran was inside, contemplating for a moment. Elizabeth, his partner, looked at him as he went to leave.
"Do you have to go?"
He turned and smiled. "I'll be back, gorgeous, don't you worry about that…" They hugged, and Bran met the Elder out in the street.
Marlow and Erin were having a drink at a bar when they heard the bells.
"What's that?" Erin asked.
"Trouble," said Marlow. He held Erin's hand. "Go to our room at Elizabeth's and stay there with her. If things get bad, Elizabeth will know what to do…"
Erin appeared flustered. "What do you mean get bad?"
"It's an attack on the town, I have to go. Just head to Elizabeth's!"
A few streets away, Gage was holding his daughter, Sho. She was half swiftclaw, half pureblood, a rare gem in the world, and all that mattered to Gage and his wife Lacey. The bells were ringing, and Gage kissed Sho's head and placed her into her cot.
"Why aren't you going?" asked Lacey gently.
"Because the Elder told me I've to get you and Sho out of the town if things turn sour…" Gage walked to the front door and stood on his porch, looking down at the rest of the town longingly. All those years he'd been its champion he had fought for his people. Now, when it counted most, he felt useless.
"Gage… I need you. Sho needs you," Lacey said, following him outside. "But the Elder and Swiftclaw town have been so good to all of us. This is our home. Perhaps we need to stand and fight too?"
Gage turned around to see Lacey smiling.
"I need to protect you and our child."
"Yes," said Lacey, "but you think I can't protect our daughter?" Lacey pulled up her shirt showing a revolver tucked underneath her belt. "They're going to need their best ever fighter, Gage. Go…"
Gage looked at Lacey with all the love he had. She was so selfless and strong, he couldn't bare the thought of losing her, staying was probably the right thing to do.
The Elder stood at the bridge which crossed river Swiftclaw. He looked across to the forest and stroked his white beard. Bran and Marlow flanked him on either side. Behind them, at least a thousand of Swiftclaw's finest stood, ready to protect their homeland with their lives. Men and women preparing to transform into their beast form and do battle with whatever was about to emerge from the trees. Those not fighting were preparing for plan B - survival. They would slow down any attackers if they made it over the bridge, so that at least some of the clan could escape with the children.
A silence covered everything, blanketing the world thick and heavy.
"Where are they?" Bran whispered.
"They're probably watching us. Deciding how best to proceed..." replied the Elder. "Marlow, your assessment?"
"It depends what type of shifters we're dealing with. If they're big and cumbersome, then that will help us. Attacking from the river would be difficult for them, it will substantially slow them down. In that case, we hold the bridge, let them funnel in towards us and pick them off as best we can. Even if they outnumber us, the bridge will mean only a few can cross at a time," Marlow peered into the forest keenly.
"And what if they are more nimble, like tigers?" asked Bran. He was thinking back to his Tournament fight with Braagh. Sure, he won that day, but he did not fancy facing hundreds of them at once.
"Then they'll have a better chance of getting across the river. You hold the bridge with your fighters, I'll lead a charge down the embankment and try to wipe them out before they touch ground," said Marlow. He really was the smartest of his clan, and while the Elder had fought battles none of his younger allies could possibly comprehend, he always listened to Marlow's suggestions.
The sense of anticipation and fear was palpable. Most of the clan had never seen an outright battle like this. The Tournament was supposed to stop such bloodshed, but the Elder knew, and many of his brethren were catching on, that something had changed. Ominous forces were moving against clan Swiftclaw, and if they did not tread carefully, their homeland could easily be lost, and they could be wiped out just like the boar shifters had almost been.
As the silence settled again, the Elder contemplated what White Tusk, the boar leader, had told him; that the Cabal had decimated his clan overnight, turning them into mindless beasts, no longer possessing the power to turn back into their human form. The Cabal had used the beast stone to do it, that ancient relic from the first shifters, and if the Cabal emerged from the forest with that in tow, all the Elder could do would be to give himself up in hope that his clan would be shown mercy. Otherwise, Swiftclaw would be no more.
Something rustled through the trees. It was time.