The God Hunters: Reunion by Reed Mark

Author:Reed, Mark [Reed, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2013-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

WOOFA greeted me with a round of firm pats on my back. I guess spending a couple of fun-filled days with Bray’s family had left him in a playful mood, which I welcomed wholeheartedly. I enjoyed feeling close to him. It definitely put a smile on my face. Bray’s too, as she watched. She stood beside me as all three of my Colt boys loaded our bags onto the wooden carriages that would take us to our starting point for the walk to the sacred mountain.

Now, the word “carriage” didn’t fit their description, exactly. They were more of a canoe mounted upon a row of three large balls. Each was led by a gigantic beast of burden with a gray leathery hide, their large three-toed feet ideal for pulling heavy loads. Along the back of the creature’s stout head, a lengthy crest shaped like a boat’s sail stood erect, colored with alternating stripes of beige and dark gray. I glanced into its calm eyes, a gentle beast. Both of us watched one another as it chewed a mouthful of grass it had pulled out of the ground.

Morning had come and gone, and amid the bright afternoon suns, a multitude of people now gathered to catch rides to the start of the Procession Festival nearly fifty miles away. Bryan had returned early this morning, with Seth and Hamburger Bun along for the fun. Seth added a vest to his ensemble, as well as one of those skirts I had seen made of two long narrow panels hanging in front and back. He also wore a pair of knee-high moccasins with big tufts of gray fur around the top of each leather shaft.

Bryan never stopped smiling at Seth for any measurable amount of time.

A big black bear from the growda ha’tar race was set up to drive our carriage. There was plenty of room for Seth and his big cat to join us too. Bray and Woofa rode with her father, her brother, and a few of their friends. Our troll friends, along with Aldis and Kirill, piled into a third carriage. In all, I counted twenty-eight carriages headed toward the starting point, which didn’t include the fourteen empty ones I saw returning to collect more passengers.

“You like your seat?” Doug asked me. We sat on nothing more than a thick long cushion tied down to a plank of wood.

“It’d be better if it had a back to lean against.”

He smiled and slipped his arm around me. “I’ll hold ya up if you get tired. No problem.”

The beasts pulling our carriages were called groun-grouns, and they put a lot of giddyup in their stride. We raced along smoothly at probably twenty miles per hour, the three large balls beneath us spinning without a sound. There must have been some type of high-quality shocks built into our ride, because I hardly felt any bumps in the dirt road, and there was a nice breeze against my face—an enjoyable trip. Our black bear

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