Belago's offering, paid little heed to the dwarves' ensuing argument.
"Oil of Impact," the alchemist said excitedly. "I was going to make you another bandolier of explosive darts, but I hadn't the time before Thobicus ..." He paused, overwhelmed by the painful memory. Then his face brightened again and he pushed the flask out toward Cadderly.
"I had another flask," he explained. "Maybe you saw the blast. I was hoping to do another one, right before Ivan caught me, but I hadn't the time."
Cadderly then understood the fireball that had risen in the east, and he gingerly - so very gingerly! - accepted the gift from the alchemist.
"Hey!" Ivan cried, drawing everyone's attention. Pikel had won this round of their argument, shoving Ivan over so hard that he had to hang on to the branch by his fingertips to prevent himself from falling to the gathered wolf pack. Before the yellow-bearded dwarf could right himself or further protest, Pikel brought the axe down hard on the trunk of the tree, causing a small split. As soon as Ivan regained his balance, Pikel handed the axe back, and Ivan snatched it away, eyeing his brother curiously.
Not as curiously as Cadderly was watching. He, above all the others, even Ivan, understood what Pikel had become, what the dwarfs love of trees and flowers had given him, and the gravity of Pikel's action, the fact that the would-be druid had just brought a weapon against a living tree, did not escape the young priest. Cadderly shifted past Ivan, who was more than willing to slide away from his unpredictable brother, and came to
Pikel*s side, to find the green-bearded dwarf muttering - no, chanting - under his breath, a small knife in hand.
Before Cadderly could ask, for the young priest did not want to interrupt, Pikel slashed his own hand with the knife.
Cadderly grabbed the dwarf's wrist and forced Pikel to look at him directly. Pikel smiled and nodded, pointed to Cadderly, to the wound, and to the wound he had inflicted on the tree.
Cadderly came to understand as a single drop of Pikel's blood fell from his hand to land on the rough bark beside the small cut in the tree. The blood instantly rushed for the crack in the trunk and disappeared.
Pikel was chanting again, and so was Cadderly, trying to find, in Deneir's song, some energy that he could add to the dwarf's attempt.
More blood flowed from Pikel's wound, every drop finding its way unerringly to the tree's crack. A warmth rose up from that crack, the smell of springtime with it.
Cadderly found a stream of thought, of holy notes that fit the scene, and he followed it with all his heart, not knowing what would happen, not knowing what Pikel had begun.
He closed his eyes and sang on, ignoring the continuing snarls and howls of the wolves, ignoring the astonished gasps of his friends.
Cadderly opened his eyes again when the branch heaved under him, as though it had come to life. The tree had blossomed in full, large apples showing on every branch. Ivan had one in hand already, and had taken a huge bite.
The dwarf's look soured, though, and notfor the taste. "Ye think I might be fattening meself up to make a
better wolf meal?" he asked in all seriousness, and he pelted the apple onto the nose of the nearest wolf.
Pikel squealed with delight; Cadderly could hardly believe what he and Pikel had done. What had they done? the young priest wondered, for he hardly saw the gain of prematurely flowering the tree. The apples provided missiles they could throw at the wolves, but certainly nothing that would drive the pack away.
The tree heaved again, and then again, and then, to the amazement of everyone on the branch, except, of course, Pikel, it came alive, not alive as a plant, but as a sentient, moving thing!
Branches rolled up and snapped down, loosing showers of apples with tremendous force, pummeling the wolf pack. Even worse for the wolves, the lowest branches reached down to club them, crunching their legs under them or sending them spinning away. Belago nearly tumbled, fell right over his branch and held on desperately with wrapped arms. Ivan did fall, bouncing from branch to branch all the way to the ground. He came up at once, axe ready, expecting a dozen wolves to leap at his throat.
Shayleigh was beside him in an instant, but the dwarf needed no protection. The wolves were too busy dodging and running.