Mark if Destiny

by K. T. Webb

  Rowan embraced his father as Honor followed Saige to one of the side tunnels. This one was tall enough for them to walk through without issue. Saige did not speak, Honor felt for the older woman, she must have felt responsible for the actions of her son. Honor followed her until they came to yet another cavern. This one held three double cots stacked on top of each other to allow for additional sleeping space.

  “You can sleep here. I am sure you are exhausted after everything you’ve been through today.” Saige handed her a pillow resting on top of a folded blanket.

  As Honor took the bundle from the woman she had known most of her life, she offered a half-hearted smile. “It is not your fault.”

  “It does not feel that way. So many are dead. Children lost their parents. And for what purpose?” Saige hung her head again, shaking it from side to side.

  “You can raise a child to be who you want them to be, but who they become is in their own hands. You did well with Ash. This is his fault, not yours.”

  Saige nodded. “I do not understand how he could have turned to the Makt. He knows what they did to his father. He knows the horrors they bring. I should have known to protect him until he received his mark. The King does not let his soldiers have a destiny. If they do not have a destiny, they cannot bring an end to his rule.”

  Honor shrugged. “I have never given it much thought, but I guess it makes sense.”

  Saige left without another word. Honor collapsed onto the nearest cot. It troubled her that the King refused his soldiers a destiny. That meant they were nothing unless they were in his service. They had nothing to strive for, nothing to live for but the King himself. She lay awake thinking about the events of the day. The morning had started with the revelation that the father she had longed to meet had died before she was born. He may not have even known she existed. The horrors that followed made the realization that she would never meet Soren, her father, seem like a distant memory.

  What purpose could there have been for killing babies in a tiny village so far away from Pallisaide? Were they looking for someone? Did they find their target? No. In her gut she knew they had not found what they were looking for if they had come after a camp in the middle of Ternion Forest. They may have killed without prejudice, but they rarely strayed from the beaten path to do so. Unless Ash had directed them toward the camp to get back at their family for something. Honor rolled over on the cot. She recalled the look on Ash’s face when Rowan announced their engagement. This could not have been vengeance over an unrequited crush. Her heart was heavy as her eyelids drooped closed. Sleep arrived and with it came a dark, endless nightmare.

  Chapter 9

  “Wake up, Honor. It is time to go.” Rowan was gently shaking her awake.

  She had been in the middle of a terrifying dream. They were being chased through the streets of Pallisaide as they had in her vision. This time, it did not end by transitioning into another vision. This time, they found themselves cornered and surrounded by Makt soldiers. When they looked at each face, they were the same—every soldier looked like Ash. He laughed as they trembled in fear. Each maniacal laugh began slightly after the last causing an echoing cacophony to reverberate off the walls. Rowan woke her just before the Ash at the front sank his spear into Rowan’s chest.

  “You are drenched in sweat.”

  Honor opened her eyes to focus on his. She took three slow, deep breaths to stop the panic from rising. They were not in Pallisaide. They were safe for the moment.

  “Are you okay?” Rowan’s voice was thick with concern.

  She nodded and sat up on the cot. “I am fine. It was just a dream.”

  “Everyone is preparing to leave. My father wants a word before we part ways.”

  Honor quickly ran her fingers through her hair before expertly weaving it together. She had nothing but her leather satchel to take along, so it did not take much for her to be ready to follow Rowan back to the main tunnel. Honor wondered if anyone else had joined them from camp while she slept. If the Makt had left anyone alive, surely, they could have made it to the tree.

  Gray was waiting for them at the base of the tunnel. The others were bustling about, gathering children and various supplies for their journey. His face was grim, dashing any hope that Maris and the others had joined them while she slept.

  “I do not know where you are going, but I have a funny feeling I may not see you again for a very long time.” Gray held his hand up to stop Rowan from interrupting. “It is okay. You are both adults. I only want to tell you how proud I am of both of you. Maris did not tell me much about what you may face because she can only guess herself. She asked me to—” His voice broke as he fought to control his emotions. “I am sorry. She asked me to tell you to stick together and trust your destiny.”

  Honor hugged him as a tear escaped his eye. “We will see each other again. I can feel it,” she whispered.

  Gray held out one of his arms to envelope both Rowan and Honor in a hug. They held on tightly before finally breaking apart to say their goodbyes.

  “We are going back through the camp to search for survivors. If anyone is there, we will send them north,” Rowan told his father in a shaky voice.

  Gray nodded once before resting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Thank you, Son. I love you.”

  Rowan swallowed his emotions. “I love you, too. Stay safe.”

  With that, he crouched and began ascending the slope toward the outside world. Honor leaned into Gray for one more hug.

  “Thank you for being my father when you did not have to be,” she whispered through the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

  Honor followed Rowan, passing into the darkness of midnight. They stood and listened for a moment, trying to determine if there was any danger nearby. The sounds of nocturnal creatures were the only evidence that any other living things were in the forest with them. Rowan took her hand, leading her away from the tree and their family toward what was left of camp. They crept between trees, retracing the steps they had taken earlier that day. Each tree she brushed against made itself known to her as though awakening from a deep slumber. They seemed to whisper their names in voices that longed to be heard. Honor smiled softly in spite of where they were heading. As they closed in on the river that ran alongside their encampment her breathing hitched in preparation for what lay ahead.

  They picked their way across the river rocks until they arrived on the other side. By the time they encountered the first body, Honor was struggling to breathe. Her heart was racing as they passed the first ruined tents, barely visible by the light of the moon. A few moments passed before the realization hit that the dark smears spread across the white fabric was the blood of their family. Her heart pounded hard within her chest, desperately threatening to break through with each step she took. Honor knew the survivors had been questioned by the center of camp. According to Harcos, that was where Maris had been the day before when they arrived after leaving Milltown. The only person Honor wanted to find may already be dead.

  She pulled her hand out of Rowan’s and quickened her steps toward the place where her family had shared many meals and happy memories. Rowan followed behind her, matching her pace step for step. Honor searched quickly until she heard a soft moan to her left. Without thinking, Honor turned and headed in the direction of the sound.

  “Maris?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “I am here.” Came a soft and tortured response.

  Honor stumbled over her own feet as she sought out the source of the words. “Maris, we came to find you.”

  She finally found the hand she was searching for and grasped it with all her might. Maris was cold and shaking. Her hand was wet, sticky with blood. Fingers closed around Honor’s hand, gripping her tightly.

  “You found me. I told Gray you would insist on coming after me, no matter how hopeless it would be.”

  “I had to try. I had to help if I could.” Honor shifted Maris so she could lift the hem of her shirt. The
bleeding came from her midsection, just inches from where her mark would be. A flame burst to life nearby as Rowan lit a torch that once lined the circle at the center of camp. One look at the wound told Honor it was indeed fatal. Her mind flashed to Eirny. Could not the impaiso heal Maris?

  “Rowan, I am so glad to see you.” Maris barely managed to bring her voice above a whisper.

  “Mother, I am so sorry I was not here.”

  “Son, I am glad you were not. There is nothing you could have done to stop this.” A single tear slid down her cheek. Rowan wiped it away as he fought back his own.

  There were so many things left for them to do together. It was too much for Honor to let Maris die. She desperately called out to Harcos in her mind. The canthion had to be nearby. No sooner had the thought formed in her mind, and the animal appeared with the impaiso on his back. Honor left Rowan with Maris. She was reluctant to leave her side, but she had to talk to the creatures without causing alarm in either of the humans. She crept beyond the circle of overturned benches toward the nearest partially destroyed tent. Honor kneeled down to plead her case to the impaiso.

  “Eirny! Please, save her!” Honor begged with tears beginning to fall.

  The impaiso looked at her with a mournful expression in her eyes. “I would if I could. I do not like to see people suffer or die; it goes against my very nature.”

  “Why can you not help her? I do not understand!”

  “This woman has fulfilled her destiny. I could heal her body, but if her soul is ready to move on, it would not be her in this body anymore.”

  Honor shuddered at the thought. Of course, she had heard stories about living dead, husks of what they had been, but walking throughout the world in a half-life. Honor had never met anyone who had encountered such a being, but the thought gave her pause. Eirny knew the limits of her magic. Her heart sank. Without pushing the issue further, Honor returned to Maris. If these were to be their last moments together, she would make the most of it.

  From the light of the torch, Honor saw Maris’ mark was exactly as she envisioned it. A smattering of color filled in the lines of a tent and trees. Framing the edges of the main mark were two branches that encircled the tent. One side had bright green leaves accented by vibrant red berries; she instantly recognized it as part of a rowan tree. The other side had broad, ovular green leaves; with a start, Honor realized they belonged to a laurel.

  “If you had seen it the other day, you would know that I, too, know what it is like to have a mark that is partially colored in.” The words were meant for Honor, but Rowan looked between them trying to decipher their meaning.

  “Laurel. Like my mother?” Honor whispered. “But you did not know her, did you?”

  Maris’ breath came in shallow rasps. “No, but you are hers. You were a part of my life from the beginning. You became mine because she could not stay.”

  Movement nearby alerted Honor to the arrival of Harcos and Eirny. She gave them a questioning look, they had already established there would be no help for Maris, what were they doing there? Before Honor could question them, Eirny slithered off Harcos’ back and approached the dying woman.

  “The least I can do is ease her pain. My magic cannot do much for the dying, but it will make her last moments more bearable,” Eirny explained.

  Honor felt tears stinging her eyes, her throat raw with ill-controlled emotion. She grasped the hand of the woman she had grown to love as a replacement for the mother she once lost. Rowan wept at her side, holding the other hand for dear life. Honor watched as Eirny deftly sank her teeth in to Maris’ side. She remembered the feeling well. It would burn at first, but slowly ease the pain until her body could relax. If nothing else, this would help Maris end her life in comfort. Maris flinched at first, but then slowly relaxed and released a low, contented sigh.

  “Honor, do not forget the capsule. It must be important,” Maris whispered.

  “Shhh, it is okay. I have it in my bag. I will figure out how to open it, I promise.”

  “You—” Maris spoke as though fighting off a drug induced sleep.

  “Mama, do not speak,” Rowan sobbed.

  “Follow your destiny, follow your hearts. I . . . love—” Her voice broke as she lost consciousness.

  “We love you too, Maris.” Honor let the emotions take over as she cried out for Maris.

  There would be no burial. There would be no memorial service. Honor gently closed the woman’s eyes as she pulled her shirt back down to cover her. Rowan stood and left her side, when he returned, he carried a remnant of one of the tents. He gently draped it over the body that once held his mother. They rose to their feet in silence, trekking through the darkness toward the road. The Makt could return at any moment, they had to get moving.

  Harcos came along next to them with Eirny propped between his shoulder blades. They followed along beside Honor and Rowan, not speaking out of respect for their loss. Honor had no way of knowing how long they walked along the southbound road, but she felt the night shifting to morning. Soon, the night would fade with the rising of the sun, leaving them exposed on their journey. If any of the Makt remained in the nearby forest, they would be discovered and possibly killed.

  “Honor, do not take this the wrong way but, what is that thing?” Rowan was staring at Eirny with a mixture of interest and concern.

  “This is Eirny. She is an impaiso. She healed me, I wanted her to heal your mother, but she could not.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Rowan,” Eirny addressed him.

  Rowan stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait. Did you just talk to me? How is that even possible?”

  “The world works in strange ways, young man. However, since we are new friends, I would request that you allow me to ride upon your shoulder. Harcos may be soft, but he is not designed to be ridden.” Eirny offered what may have been a smile.

  Rowan looked at Honor as though searching for her opinion. She simply smiled and waited for him to form his own thoughts on the matter. He shrugged before cautiously approaching the canthion. With one hand extended, Rowan allowed Eirny to wrap her way around his arm until the top part of her body rested on his shoulder.

  “Much better. Thank you, Rowan. This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  Rowan released a carefree chuckle that belied the anguish he felt. Eirny leaned her forehead against his cheek. Honor made a mental note to ask Eirny if her healing powers extended beyond physical injuries or illnesses. On the off-chance that the impaiso was offering some kind of emotional healing to Rowan, Honor was not going to question it.

  “Do you have a plan, Honor?” Harcos always sounded slightly disgruntled.

  “Not exactly. I guess right now my plan is to avoid death.”

  “I am sorry, did I miss something?” Rowan asked.

  A quiet hissing came from his shoulder as Eirny caught him up on the conversation and began to serve as the translator for Harcos. Honor had not realized how odd it must have sounded for her to speak to Harcos around someone who could not understand him.

  “Would you try to be less cavalier about our mission?” Harcos growled.

  Honor rolled her eyes. How was she supposed to have come up with a plan for something she did not understand? “Perhaps if you told me where we should be heading, I could make a plan. Or, better yet, you could make the plan.”

  Harcos replied with another growl. “You are very difficult.”

  Rowan laughed aloud, cutting the moment short by slapping a hand over his mouth. Honor glowered in his direction. She knew he was reacting to the translation offered into his ear. He shrugged innocently. It was something he said to her all the time. Rowan often told her she was the most difficult woman he had ever met. It was a common theme throughout their childhood which had followed her into their adult relationship. Honor rolled her eyes at him, too.

  "It is one of my best qualities. Just ask me." Honor stuck her tongue out at Rowan in response.

  "I did not say a word. You cannot
blame me this time. Apparently, I am not the only one who finds you to be difficult," Rowan retorted.

  With a raised eyebrow, Honor returned her focus to Harcos. "I swear, I am not trying to be difficult. I am simply not in the know. You have not been very forthcoming with information about our so-called mission."

  Harcos leveled her with his gaze. "I believe our first task is to stop at the next village to stock up on supplies. You and Rowan will undoubtedly need some things for the journey that were not included in the packs his mother filled for you."

  A stab of pain reminded Honor that Maris had prepared them well to leave, but nothing could have prepared them for losing her. Harcos seemed to remember the weight of his words and had the decency to offer a follow-up.

  "I realize I have not offered my condolences to either of you. You have both experienced a great loss. One you may remember I have felt recently. As hard as it is to accept, death is a part of life.”

  Honor and Harcos exchanged a meaningful look. It was only a few weeks ago that Honor herself took the life of the canthion’s mother. Not only did he understand their pain, he had felt it himself at the hands of the human he was supposed to be connected with on the path toward their destinies. Honor dropped her head but maintained eye contact with the canthion.

  "I am so sorry, Harcos. If I had known what I now know about your kind, I would have spared your mother.”

  Harcos shook his head. “No, our paths were destined to cross. If you had not killed my mother, I would not have found you and realized how we were connected. I knew one day she would die at the hands of the ally I was destined to find.”

  Honor understood. It seemed humans were not the only species dedicated to their destinies. She sighed. It would do them no good to continue to discuss the past. “We all know we need to get moving, but we do not yet know what we are heading for. Perhaps if you could shed some light on the mission?” Honor hoped he knew she was not trying to be difficult, she only wanted to know what was expected of her.