Ky’ara shivered. “What do you mean, if it transitions?” she asked.
Arys gave her a rueful look. “I forgot that you haven’t had a proper druid education. Didn’t Taren teach you about the Destroyer’s lineage?”
“Every so often the Darkness passes to whoever in that line—now the royal line—has felt a great deal of pain or loss,” Ky’ara answered, recalling the conversation they’d had at Jenie and Hal’s house over a year ago. “Oh…and he said that it grows more potent each time. But he said that now it passes more frequently…if all it needs is one more switch to grow in power, why doesn’t it just do so now?”
“The conditions must be right,” Arys explained, “I’ve spent a lot of time studying over the last five hundred years, and I’ve learned that while the power can shift somewhat to influence any member of the royal family, it does not grow unless it fully passes to a new host. To do that, the person it shifts to must be an emotion-oriented mage, because their strong connection to the Dreamworld allows the flow of power to occur quickly enough to gain the proper momentum—” she broke off on seeing Ky’ara’s flabbergasted expression, then sighed in annoyance.
“I forgot, there is no way you’d know that...Taren never did properly learn magical theory; Keepers were only taught the basics…I’d better back up somewhat. Every person who has a connection to the Dreamworld has the ability to use what we call magic. This flow of power between realms is part of what sustains our world. Mages can harness that energy based on the kind of connection they have—we referred to them as physical-oriented, mental-oriented, and emotion-oriented…”
Ky’ara listened with growing interest, her school-girl instincts making her hands itch to take notes. She’d simply have to file it all away mentally and write it down when she got the chance. Finally, here in what had once been the storehouse of the druids’ knowledge and power, maybe she would learn something helpful.
* * * * *
Sukylar and Lauryn had reached the horses without too much trouble. Hiking through the trees had been easier now that they’d covered that path once already. In some ways, the forest felt much less ominous now that Ky’ara had gotten rid of the necromancer. After both having been seriously injured by his dark creatures, however, they were taking no chances. Two fires burned, one on either side of their campsite. A generous stack of branches and logs sat next to each one. They had agreed to sleep in shifts. Since Lauryn was still healing from the recent battle, Sukylar had volunteered to take the first watch.
The forest around them was darker than usual—a result of the lunar eclipse he’d noted overhead. It seemed strange to him that the night after their defeat of the necromancer should be so dark...He shook his head as though trying to dislodge the half-formed thoughts of portents and signs. Since when did he let himself be weighed down by superstitious nonsense?
He’d always trusted his instincts, relied on magic when the need arose, and believed in the druids’ cause with more fervor than anyone except maybe A’kiina. But that was all based on experience. Though some may have called it superstition, growing up in family that had been entwined with the rebellion since the days of the druids’ fall had taught him a great deal about what magic was capable of and what was just old wives’ tales. Looking out for magic or enemies was nothing new. But this fear—the feeling that the shadows were more than they should be, or wondering if the whisper of the wind was a warning—this was something totally foreign to him.
Sukylar took a deep breath and closed his eyes (there was little to be gained by peering out into the pitch blackness that surrounded them anyways). He felt his anxiety lessen slightly as he exhaled slowly to a count of ten. As he continued the meditation exercise, he focused his ears on the forest around him, listening. The burning logs crackled and popped loudly, muffling the sound of Lauryn’s faint snore. He tuned out the closer sounds and the chirping of insects and rustling of wind slowly became more audible. Trees creaked softly as their upper levels swayed in the breeze. Nothing sinister caught his attention.
He remained that way until well after midnight, years of discipline and the remaining undercurrent of fear keeping him awake until it was time to let Lauryn take watch. The fires had burned low during that time and he carefully fed in a few more logs to each before stooping to shake Lauryn’s shoulder. Her eyes flew open, and Sukylar blessed his quick reflexes as her hand shot upwards with a small knife clenched in its grasp. He stopped it just inches from his face by grabbing her wrist.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as recognition dawned and the sleep cleared from her eyes. He shrugged. “Don’t ever apologize for protecting yourself. Besides, I’ll sleep better knowing I’m in good hands. If you’ve that much fight in you half-awake, I know you can handle anything that threatens us while you’re on watch.”
The girl nodded curtly and tucked the knife back into her belt. “Anything at all I need to know about?” she asked, standing and stretching her arms to bring some life back into them.
Sukylar shook his head. “It’s been quiet as a moth.”
“Good.”
He watched as the lithe girl walked to the edge of their campsite and faced the darkness around them. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, bouncing a little—trying to keep warm, or just nervous? If she was he wouldn’t blame her…the kind of things they’d seen in the last few weeks would be enough to make anyone terrified of the dark, but here she was, barely more than a child, ready to face it alone for hours. Sukylar blinked and shook his head again. He was tired; sleep would help clear his muddled brain. He climbed into his bedroll and lay flat on his back, staring up through the treetops at the stars that somehow seemed brighter without the moon to outshine them. A few minutes later, he was asleep.
Chapter 19: Escape
The sun rose slowly in the east, long fingers of light stretching across the land till they fell on the little wall where Geri and Amischel crouched. They’d been watching the house for at least an hour, unsure when the soldiers would be leaving. So far there was no sign of movement. Two soldiers stood guard outside the unhitched prison-carriage, yawning sleepily. They must’ve traded off during the night sometime – these two were much taller and burlier than the ones who’d been on guard before.
The horse meant to pull the carriage was tethered with the soldiers’ mounts under a small lean-to on the side of the house opposite the prisoners. The entire rescue plan hinged on the soldiers prepping the wagon before they were ready to go themselves, otherwise they’d give chase immediately and the chances of getting away would go from slim to none. If they were caught after attempting the rescue, Geri had no illusions that they’d all just be locked up again. The king’s soldiers weren’t known for their mercy, and trying to help Jenie’s family escape custody would be considered absolute proof of their guilt.
This had to work.
Amischel looked restlessly up at the sky, wondering if Irakyll might come back with help. She hadn’t told Geri about the late-night visit. She wasn’t sure he’d believe her about being able to communicate with the dragon. Besides, he didn’t need anything distracting him from the rescue.
“I think they’re moving around inside,” Geri whispered, and Amischel drew her attention back to the house. Shadows moved past the windows—the soldiers were getting ready to go.
“Get down!” Geri hissed in warning. They both ducked just as the door opened and one of the soldiers walked out. Amischel peeked through a tiny gap in the wall and saw him head toward where the horses were kept. She risked a glance over the wall. He was feeding the soldiers’ mounts, whistling softly to himself. The breeze carried a bit of the tune to her and she pursed her lips thoughtfully. It was a sad sort of song—not quite what she’d expect from a hard-bitten soldier.
“Jace!” A deep voice called.
Amischel started in surprise and ducked behind the wall once more, her heart racing. She didn’t think the second soldier had seen her, but if he’d turned just a little further to the right he pr
obably would have. She looked at Geri, who shook his head reassuringly. He didn’t think she’d been seen either. They waited a few minutes in silence, and then checked to see if the soldiers were still there. The first one was, though he seemed to be almost done feeding the horses.
Amischel felt a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. Was it just her, or did it seem like he was glancing in their direction too frequently? She pushed the thought away. It was more likely that he was looking toward the carriage where his fellow soldiers stood. Finally, after what felt like ages, he untied one of the horses and led it to the prison-carriage. The other soldiers watched lazily as he hitched the steed to the conveyance. Geri looked at Amischel and nodded. Now was their chance.
She hurried along the wall, crouching low. Inwardly, Amischel berated herself for not getting into position as soon as he had untied the horse. Their window was narrow as it was—hopefully she hadn’t cost them the rescue.
A few minutes later she was on the other side of the house, well hidden in a conveniently located tree she had scouted out last night. She perched on a branch that was almost level with the top of the wall, and nocked an arrow on her bow. What should she hit? Her aim wasn’t to hurt anyone, just cause a lot of confusion. Sighting along the shaft, Amischel picked her target and then fired. The arrow streaked through the half-open window and buried itself in an apple—just as a soldier was about to grab one from the basket.
Pandemonium ensued. The soldier cursed and yanked his hand back as though stung, accidentally elbowing the man behind him. Everyone else jumped to their feet and ran to the window, looking for the shooter.
Amischel was already scampering higher in the tree, thanking the Light for her neutral colored dress. She’d be difficult to pick out among the foliage, especially since the soldiers seemed to be looking primarily at the wall. When she reached the next stable spot, she fired two more arrows, each in rapid succession. They crashed through the second-story windows, breaking the glass and causing some of the soldiers to run upstairs to see what the sound was. At the next height, she paused to steady herself, testing the branch before sitting on it. Trying to shoot from a sitting position was awkward and difficult, but it wasn’t all that different than firing from horseback.
Her next shot was blind. She aimed high and watched as the arrow arced over the roof and landed on the other side. A second later, cries of alarm sounded from the front of the house as well. Amischel allowed herself a satisfied smirk.
She drew one last arrow from her quiver and stabbed it into the ball of animal fat wrapped in rags, which Geri had supplied her with. Her target was the hay pile just outside the lean-to, which was on the opposite side of the house from the carriage. Amischel struck her flint and steel together to light the tip of the arrow, feeling somewhat nervous. She hoped the soldiers were quick to respond—she didn’t want to hurt any of the horses or damage the structure, just draw the men’s attention.
It was primarily the wind that had her concerned. If the light breeze increased at all it could quickly drive the fire out of control. She didn’t want to be the reason some poor family lost their home. There was no time for hesitation. Amischel shot the arrow and watched the straw instantly catch fire.
The flames licked towards the structure of the lean-to and she bit her bottom lip worriedly. A moment later the wind died down and Amischel breathed a sigh of relief. She scrambled back down the tree just as the first soldier noticed the blaze. There was no time to stop and see if they were all fighting the fire. She had to get to the rendezvous point before Geri did, or she’d miss her chance to get on the carriage with the others. Hopefully the soldiers were too busy to notice a solitary figure running for the road.
* * * * *
Geri crouched behind the house, poised on the balls of his feet. The soldiers were in chaos. Amischel was doing a cracking good job of creating a distraction. No one had seen him clamber over the wall and sneak over to the house. He was less than a dozen yards from the carriage, which was ready to go and now unguarded. A whiff of smoke drifted over to him and a moment later he heard the panicked cries of “fire!” coming from inside the house. This was it.
Ducking low so he wouldn’t be seen through the windows, Geri ran along the length of the house to the corner closest to the carriage. He stopped and peeked quickly around to ensure that no one had seen him. The soldiers were all busy beating the flames with their horses’ blankets. He straightened and ran the last few yards to the carriage, rolling underneath and coming up on the other side before anyone could see him.
“What the—!”
A guard had apparently still been left with the carriage. Geri leapt to his feet and hit the soldier as hard as he could with his fist. He must’ve had more momentum than he thought, because the man crumpled to the ground. So much for all their planning. Hopefully the cry and thump had been lost in the sound of the fire. After dragging the soldier back a bit to keep him from being run over, Geri knocked three times on the door of the carriage, smiled when he heard three in return, and then leaped into the driver’s seat. Speed would serve them better than stealth at this point. Jenie and Hal better have a tight grip on their children. Geri flicked the reins briskly and the well-trained horse surged forward, slamming him back against the seat hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.
By the time he had righted himself and caught his breath, they were halfway to the gate and picking up speed. He glanced behind them and saw that a few soldiers had leapt onto their horses bareback and were trying to follow. Most of the rest were struggling to saddle their mounts, but their tack had been scattered in the rush to fight the flames. Geri smiled tightly. Not too bad—now it remained to be seen if Amischel had made it to the gate in time. They approached the squat wooden entrance at a much faster clip than he had intended, and he belatedly pulled on the reins to slow the horse. The animal jerked its head in response, whinnying angrily and twisting this way and that. The carriage swayed dangerously.
“Whoa!” Geri called, fighting to bring the irritated creature back under control. He had ridden horses from the time he was a child, he’d thought he could handle this. But apparently driving one from the seat of a coach was different. Quite different. They skimmed the wall as they crashed through wooden gate, which was hanging open but not nearly wide enough for the horse and carriage. The resulting bump pulled everything sideways, and as Geri felt the wagon start to tip he quickly adjusted by pulling the reins to the other side. The horse whipped its head around and this time managed to yank one of the reins from Geri’s grasp.
He felt a thump as something hit the side of the carriage, but he didn’t dare turn to look as he struggled to regain some control of the panicked horse. With one side of the reins dragging—and not wanting to pull on the other for fear of overturning the conveyance—there was little he could do but hold on for dear life as they careened down the road. Finally, he remembered having seen a long handled whip tucked along the back of seat. He carefully tied the rein he held to a small peg on the edge of the seat, and then felt for the stick hastily.
It was right where he’d thought, and after a few seconds of fiddling, he managed to get it out. Holding tightly to the seat with one hand, Geri reached out with the long handle and managed to snag the trailing rein where it had caught on part of the hitch. He pulled it back up and a minute later was able to pull back on both the reins to slow the horse to a more reasonable speed.
Geri finally looked back to see Amischel staring at him wide-eyed from where she was precariously balanced on the step of the carriage. Her hands gripped the door handle and the top of the carriage tightly, and even from this distance he could tell that her knuckles were white. He was glad to see that she’d managed to jump on at the wall, even though he hadn’t slowed as much as he’d planned to.
“We’ve got company!” she called loudly, her voice drowned out by the thundering of hooves and wheels.
Geri cursed and directed the horses towards the cover of the trees as
quickly as he dared. He spared a glance behind them and saw that two of the three soldiers that had attempted to follow bareback had managed to stay astride their horses. It probably wouldn’t be long until some of the others managed to saddle their mounts and join the chase. A sick feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach. He and Amischel could handle the two soldiers if they caught up, but the time spent doing so would probably be enough for the other soldiers to get to them.
They should’ve had Amischel pick off as many of the guards as she could before stealing the carriage. Somehow he doubted she would’ve been amenable to such casual murder, even of enemy soldiers. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t either, or he would’ve suggested it earlier. He’d grown up in the capital. As a merchant’s son he’d been ranked very closely with those in the army and though he didn’t know any of these soldiers personally, he could have. Chances were he’d run into some he did before this was over…if it didn’t all end for him right here.
* * * * *
Amischel clung to the carriage, barely staying on as they bumped their way over ruts and swerved precariously close to the trees that were starting to grow closer together the farther they went. She slowly turned her head to face the soldiers chasing them, pressing her cheek against the carriage as though mere contact with the wood could hold her in place. Luckily the bareback riders seemed to have difficulty controlling their mounts, or they’d certainly have caught up—the carriage couldn’t move even half as fast as a horse and rider, especially over this uneven ground.
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