Keys of Candor: Trilogy

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Keys of Candor: Trilogy Page 18

by Casey Eanes


  Not again! Where are these things coming from?

  Luken bellowed below, “What was that?!”

  Willyn swung her light to the area the morel had sprung its attack. The boxes scattered on the floor had been hiding the burrow it had come from. There was no visible sign of any additional morels, but as she was shining her light through the tunnel the sound of screams pierced through the depths of the hive.

  Willyn looked up to the trap door and her heart sunk as she realized there was no ladder. Another burst of shrieks leapt from the hole. Willyn shoved a barrel beneath the trapdoor and climbed on top.

  She only had seconds before she would die. “Morels, Luken! Help me!”

  Luken’s face appeared a few feet above Willyn, his long, muscular arm reaching down toward her. She leapt and grabbed for his arm but missed, her feet barely managing to land back on the old barrel. She drew in a long breath and focused in on Luken’s hand. She had to reach it; there wasn’t any other option. She leapt and they connected. His powerful hand locked on her wrist and he pulled her up through the opening.

  Willyn slammed the trapdoor and kicked dirt over it as she scrambled for something to block the top of it. Luken joined the scramble, his face grim. The sound of thunder mixed with the torrent of screams below them, creating a chaotic symphony of fear.

  Willyn felt her heart slamming against her chest. She panted for air, “I just killed a drone and I heard more behind it. Those things have burrowed into this place. We have to go NOW.”

  Willyn kept the muzzle of the pistol pointed toward the small wooden door, refusing to turn her back to it. A burst of lightning cracked outside, shooting light through the room as the ocean storm continued its fury.

  Luken pointed at the small window pane as nearby branches smacked against the glass.

  “Let’s go, then.” Luken threw open the door just as a loud crack rang out beneath Willyn. The trap door underneath her jolted up with such force that it sent her crashing backwards. A large, scarred morel was clawing at the opening, desperately trying to gain a hold and pull itself into the room. Its red eyes were fixed on Willyn as if it knew she was the one who killed its kin. It flashed its dagger teeth and let out a low call to its hive.

  Willyn rolled from her stomach and fired a shot that ripped through the morel’s skull and sent it plummeting back down into the shadows of the root cellar. The thud of the beast crashing into the ground below was met with more screeches and groans. A pack was underneath them now, clawing for an entrance. Luken kicked the door shut again and helped Willyn back to her feet. As she regained her footing, Willyn shot off three additional rounds straight down through the brittle wood between them and their attackers.

  Luken screamed, “It’s no use! Get back to the boat!” Luken pulled Willyn toward the door. “Stay close to me. The last thing you want to do is get lost. You can’t shoot your way out of the bogs around here. They will swallow you alive. Stay close.”

  He opened the door, and the two bounded out into the storm.

  Willyn stumbled out behind him, struggling to keep a hand on his pack. She refused to lose him, but the stinging rain made it impossible to run without shielding her face. Within seconds, her clothes were completely soaked, and the wind bit at her skin with a terrible chill. The hot and humid jungle transformed in a matter of a few hours to a freezing wetland.

  Branches slapped at her as she followed behind Luken, attempting to keep pace with his swift steps. It amazed her that Luken seemed completely unfazed by the weather that was rendering her almost immobile as she stumbled and tripped through the muddy underbrush. The sinking soil and roots twisted and tangled at her feet, and Willyn tripped over every other step. The deep mud sucked at her boots, weighing her steps, but Luken continued to run full speed ahead slapping away branches, only slowing down to call back to her.

  The pair ran for a half hour without stopping, splashing through the woods in what seemed no particular direction. Willyn’s navigation skills were useless in this weather. The wind and rain mixed with Luken’s twisting path had her completely disoriented. Luken turned and shouted back.

  “Not much farther now!” He pointed to his right where the trees were thinning out, no more than fifty meters away. The shoreline was barely visible through the deluge, but she could see it. Luken called out to her, “Stay with me!”

  As much as she hated the boat that morning, there was nothing she wanted to see more. Willyn set her eyes onto the clearing and ran for her life. A large log lay in front of her path, and in one swift leap, she cleared it. When her feet hit the ground she panicked as the earth gave way beneath her. Her legs fell into a deep viscous pool of earth that swallowed her on impact. She had fallen into a bog. She splashed in desperation as she tried to find some footing, only to sink chest deep into thick, hungry mud. It pressed in on her, constricting her in its secure grip.

  Her wet clothes became lead, threatening to pull her under. Her feet were locked in stockades that were sinking with each small movement. She screamed out as Luken’s silhouette disappeared from her vision. “LUKEN! Come back! PLEASE.” He continued to tear through the woods, unaware. The mud began to creep up around Willyn’s neck as she continued to call out for help. “Luken! Please come back!” The sheer weight of the mud made it harder to yell as it pressed against her throat. Everything was becoming difficult; it was harder to think, it was harder to scream, it was harder to breathe. Every shift or attempt she made to push out of the mud only pulled her deeper and tighter within the swamp’s grasp.

  Mud bubbled up around Willyn’s chin and pressed in to swallow her lips. She took in a deep breath and unleashed the loudest scream she could muster, “LUKEN, please!” The slush seeped into her mouth, filling it with the putrid taste of salty mud and rotten leaves. She spat the sludge out and gasped for one last breath. But she lost the last gasp of air as a morel smashed through the foliage in front of her and locked its terrible eyes on her. The constriction of the pit and the terrible sight of another morel gloating over her made it impossible to breathe. Her mind tumbled the possibilities. She quickly decided that she would prefer to suffocate in her liquid coffin than have her last memory be being butchered by a morel.

  The large brute pressed forward as it stared at her. It was not a lowly drone, but rather a fighter, rippled with unnatural, pulsating muscles. It was the type that children told ghost stories about, stories that she thought, up until her recent two run-ins, were just stories. The fiend stared at her through the downpour. Flashes of lightning illuminated its sharp, outset teeth as its bloodshot eyes held her in its gaze. It flicked out its long, black tongue and took a resolute step into the mud.

  Willyn never feared conflict or even pain, but this was far from anything she had experienced before. She was like a netted animal waiting to be speared by its captor, staring into the eyes of whomever or whatever was about to end it all. She clamped her eyes shut, unable to look at the hulking brute that joined her in the hellish pit. She knew it would be over soon. The monster took its time as it carefully sloshed toward her, its long claws grasping out. Her heart quickened with each step it took.

  Only one question was asked behind her closed eyes. Where is Luken? Where is Luken?

  She could not open her eyes. She could feel the beast’s breath just inches from her face, sniffing at her, examining its next victim.

  A scream shot through the deluge, “NO!”

  Willyn’s eyes snapped open, only to catch Luken charging out of the woods from the corner of her vision. The morel was face to face with her and turned as Luken pounced on him like a panther, swift and terrible. He grabbed the beast with his bare hands. In one swift motion he locked his arms around the creature’s head and dragged it out of the mud pit. The creature wailed in a low, guttural moan as it fought back, trying to pry loose from Luken’s barbaric grip. Luken threw his arms around the beast, wrenching down on it without mercy. He broke the brute’s neck in half and stared at the creatures that lurked in th
e bushes beyond the mud pit.

  Mud began to push up over Willyn’s nose as she tried to breathe in one last small breath. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes again as the mud seeped around her cheeks. Another wave of mud spilled over her lips and Willyn gagged. The bubbling cough made her think of Hagan and his terrible coughing spells.

  She had failed. Hagan was alone and dying in a Realm with no one to look over him. Hosp was pushing to eliminate their family’s line, and her family’s last hope was bound to the woman left to drown in a filthy bog. She failed in her quest to bring back the man with the answers to heal Hagan. She failed her family, her Realm. The pain of defeat collapsed in on her far harder than the bog that covered her, drowning her one cough at a time.

  “LEAVE US!” Luken screamed. Willyn could see nothing, and it was difficult to even hear Luken shouting. The screaming stopped and was followed by the sound of footsteps fading into the forest.

  What is he doing? Is he running? Is he leaving me? Gods. He’s too late…

  In a desperate attempt to escape the mud around her, Willyn threw a hand above her head and waved it, hoping to catch Luken’s eye. Through the rain she could hear his voice, calm and stern.

  “Go limp. Fighting it won’t help you. I have you now.”

  Willyn fought her instinct to try and thrash her way free one last time. She surrendered and relaxed her entire body. Luken grasped her and pulled her out up to her chest. She gasped, desperate for air as she splashed free and spit the horrid sludge from her lips. After a few additional tugs, she was finally free, breathless and sprawled out on the solid floor of the jungle. She clutched Luken’s shirt in her hands, refusing to let go, until her nerves settled and she was able to stand. All she wanted was to be close to him, to be safe.

  Willyn looked up at him as he sat next to her, panting for breath himself. He did not look the same. Despite the darkness of the jungle wrapping around them, there was enough light to notice that Luken appeared older, aged somehow.

  She croaked, her voice searching for strength, “What did you do, Luken? What happened?”

  Luken looked away from her eyes and answered. “Nothing. We have to go now. Now stay close! There isn’t much more time left.” He stood and set back toward the opening in the trees, leading to the beach.

  It did not take long for the cold, bitter wind to return Willyn to her senses as she followed behind him. How could anyone turn away a pack of morels?

  Soon the two were clearing the trees and running across the beach toward Luken’s ship. Willyn ignored her earlier fear of water and splashed her way through the shallows back to the safety of the boat. Luken helped her make the swim and got her safely on board. Once on deck he directed her into the cabin to get warm.

  “I don’t want to be anywhere near the shoreline. If we can make it aboard in our condition, so can they. Lie down and rest. I will find somewhere safe to anchor.” The hatch snapped shut, leaving Willyn alone in the dark, cramped quarters of the little boat. As the engines fired to life she slid onto the cabin’s solitary cot and closed her eyes.

  The small skiff bobbed and swayed as it plunged out into the Endless Ocean. The waves slapped against its hull creating motion that would have normally nauseated her, but the exhaustion hanging over her was too much. It pushed away every sensation other than hunger.

  She tore into a box of dried fruit and quickly snapped up several handfuls before lying back down with her back against the hull of the boat. As the skiff started moving through the waves, Willyn surrendered to her exhaustion and crashed into a deep sleep with the rolling thoughts of Luken saving her drifting through her mind.

  The sound of a wave crashing jostled Willyn from her sleep. As she shook her head and glanced around the cargo hold, Luken was nowhere to be found. The small hatch to the hold was open as bright sunlight shone into the room.

  She crawled out of the hold and back onto the deck where she found Luken steering the boat over the calm, open waters of the ocean. He looked as fresh as when she had first met him.

  “Ah, you’re awake! How did you sleep? You went through a lot last night.”

  “Did you ever come down to sleep, or have we been sailing through the night? I never heard you.”

  Luken could not hide a wry grin as he answered. “Of course I slept. I would have to be a fool to try and steer this sorry ship through an ocean surge all night long.”

  Willyn stared at Luken, waiting for some further explanation, but he returned to steering the craft in silence. Willyn straightened out her tangled mass of hair and pulled it back into a tight ponytail as she walked to Luken’s side and checked the compass at his station.

  “East? I thought we still had a few more islands to the west? Plus, we found Grift’s tracks back on that island.”

  “Well, we did. But I don’t know that those were actually his tracks. It’s possible, but I think it is more likely our little houseguests last night had something to do with those.”

  “What about his jacket then?”

  “I never said he was not on the island, but I have a feeling he moved on. He very well may have stirred up the same morel hive and decided to leave. Can’t say I blame him.” He flashed a stupid smile. “Plus, we never saw a boat anywhere. No chance he swam to that island, so he must have stolen a boat. If he did, we should have found it somewhere. I circled the island this morning but there was nothing. It’s a waste to go back.” He paused and then muttered as if to himself. “Plus, we have been called back inland.”

  “What? Called back? We have three days! Filip gave us three days and we have only been out for two.”

  Luken’s eyes dropped and he cleared his throat. “There seems to be a problem. Normally I only take orders from him, but his son Evan contacted me. He said the agreement was off and we had to head back or they would send gunships after us.”

  “Gunships?”

  “I have no idea why. The only thing that I know is the fact that this boat will not be any use against gunships. Evan left me no choice.”

  “Since when did Elum threaten a two-man skiff with warships? And how dare he threaten to fire on me?”

  Willyn turned and stared off the bow, straining her sight as if expecting to see one of the hulking gunships barreling over the horizon, firing in their direction.

  Luken revved the engine and they skipped across the waves. “I agree, something is not right. What is bothering me is my other radio lines are down and I can’t reach any of my spotters inland who were looking for Grift.”

  Spotters? Willyn was intrigued at Luken’s unspoken tactics.

  The long green coast of Elum peered over the horizon, and the palace grounds rose into view. The morning light set the palace walls aglow and it looked like a swelling fire as they grew closer.

  Luken’s radio crackled to life.

  “Inspector Luken, please bring your ship to a halt. We are sending a guard detail to give you clearance and escort you back to shore.”

  Luken responded, “Certainly, sir, but what is going on?”

  “Our guns are now sighted on your vessel. Avoid testing our patience. Do you copy?”

  Luken slammed the receiver into the console in front of him before picking it back up again and forcing a smile as he answered.

  “Understood. We copy.”

  Willyn looked at Luken, but his face revealed nothing. The only thing Willyn could find in Luken’s face was agitation. He was not worried or afraid, but it was obvious that he was exasperated by the ordeal.

  “What is this about, Luken?”

  “If I knew, I would tell you. Trust me.”

  A long, black dreadnaught rolled through the water toward their skiff, its guns pointed in their direction. A cold, electronic voice bolted out of a P/A system.

  “Drop your weapons and put your hands up, Willyn Kara of the Groganlands. You are hereby arrested for the conspiracy and murder of Filip Darian of Elum. Anything you say will be used against you in a fair trial. Come with us peac
efully and we will see that no immediate harm is done to you.”

  Luken glanced at Willyn. “What did you do?”

  Willyn stood dumbfounded and mumbled. “I haven’t done anything. I have been with you from the moment Filip sent you to me.”

  Willyn looked out toward the oncoming warship, and her thoughts fell on Hagan. What am I going to do?

  She stared at Luken, searching for some insight. “Why would anyone kill Filip?”

  Luken’s eyes did not leave the mounted guns of the warship. He held up his hands in surrender. “I was wondering the same thing. So you don’t know anything?”

  Heat rushed to Willyn’s cheeks as she followed suit. “Of course not! I have one man I want to kill, and Filip is of no interest to me.”

  Luken rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to say...I mean. I meant maybe you had some intel of someone who would want to kill Filip.”

  Willyn’s mind whirled, adding up the score. First…Camden. Then Hagan. Now Filip.

  “Someone is attacking all of our leaders, Luken, and it would not surprise me if it was Grift. But why?”

  A shot rang out. A wall of water rushed up only ten yards away from Luken’s vessel. Willyn stood as the electronic voice boomed out over the waves again.

  “That was a warning shot. We will fire if necessary. Do not move. We are boarding now. You will be taken into custody immediately. Do not resist.”

  As the security boat pulled up, Luken spoke just loud enough for Willyn to hear.

  “Red Deaths.” He stared at her looking for recognition, but she looked at him blankly.

  “What?” Willyn had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Listen to me, Willyn. You must trust me now.”

 

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