Mist Rising

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Mist Rising Page 15

by Eve Langlais


  Agathe didn’t care. She had gotten to shower with warm water and soap. It was luxurious, as were the new clothes delivered—a gift from the Forest Fort families who respected the Shield Goddess.

  For the first time since they’d left the Abbae, Agathe felt good. Fed. Clean. And restless, which led to her leaving the girls and Venna to bunk down for the night. As she exited the room, she ran into Hiix smoking a cigarillo she’d scrounged from someone, a nasty habit that she rarely indulged.

  “Where are you going?” Hiix asked, blowing smoke circles.

  “Just poking around.”

  Hiix glanced at the room she’d left. “Is Belle still whining?”

  “Not for long. Venna’s giving them all some sleepy-time tea.”

  Hiix snorted. “Can’t believe she thought to pack some.”

  “Kind of glad she did. I might have a sip later on to make sure I get a good night’s rest.”

  “You trust this place?” Hiix asked with clear suspicion.

  “Folks say they’ve never seen the mist in the forest. And we are tucked well within it. Not to mention, the Ghost Brigade is here.”

  Hiix’s lips pressed into a line. “True. They’re all over the place. I know two are watching the room. A pair below. A couple sleeping now to take over later.” Hiix rolled a shoulder as she took a drag. “Have to say, they’re very efficient. Good training.”

  “We would have gotten there eventually.” The Goddess’s Shield Soraers were woefully out of practice, with only grandmothers who’d been too young to fight the last time around.

  “We don’t have eventually. We are running out of time, and you know it. Something’s wrong with the Abyss. All those monsters it’s been spewing lately, it’s not natural.”

  It wasn’t, but how to fix it? The general had implied that the festival was important to their survival. It must be because of the magic inherent with the purple eyes. What did the King know of it? Use it for?

  No one seemed to know. And yet, Maric and the other soldiers should. After all, once upon a time, they, too, had the purple eyes. What’d happened to them?

  She told Hiix some of her conversation with Maric. “He implied the girls might help stop what’s happening with the mist.”

  Hiix took and released a breath of smoke before saying, “Meaning the root of the problem is magic-based.”

  “It makes the most sense. I wonder why it’s gotten worse, though.”

  “Rumor has it the festival has been getting fewer and fewer tributes each year.”

  “Meaning less magic to hold back the mist?” Agathe mused aloud.

  “It’s not me you should be asking.”

  Agathe’s lips pursed. “I tried questioning Maric. He only told me tidbits and left me with even more questions.”

  “Maybe you weren’t asking him the right way,” Hiix less than subtly hinted with a wink.

  “I am not having sex with him to get a few answers.”

  “You could have sex with him just for fun.”

  It didn’t help that she’d thought about it. “Given his pompous nature, he’s probably terrible in bed.”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “Hiix!”

  “What? He’s obviously attracted to you.”

  “What makes you say that?” Curse her vanity for asking.

  “Because, according to Baer, the second you went into that hole, he yelled at Baer to open the door. And when Baer didn’t do it fast enough, Maric took his mace and smashed his way in. The man jumped into a hole to save you.”

  “He didn’t do that because he wants to have sex with me.”

  “Then give me another reason.”

  “Stupid man is under the impression that he’s a hero.” Agathe rolled her eyes.

  “He is a hero.”

  “Is there a reason you’re determined to paint him as a good guy?”

  “He’s your ticket into the Citadel,” Hiix stated.

  “I have the girls for that.”

  “You really think you’ll get past the gate with them? Family, guardians, friends. None are allowed to cross the moat,” Hiix reminded. The purple-eyed were always segregated from their pasts.

  “Maybe if I ask—”

  “They’ll laugh. You know they’re not about to break the rules for you.” Hiix didn’t try to soften the rebuke.

  “I don’t see how being involved with Maric gets me any closer. I highly doubt soldiers are allowed guests.”

  “Do you really think they don’t sometimes smuggle in an intimate friend?” Hiix slyly suggested.

  “I don’t think he’s the type to sneak around.”

  “So, you know his type now, do you?” Hiix teased.

  “You’re terrible. And it’s not working. I am not having intercourse with him.” She doubted he’d want to after their conversation earlier.

  “Well then, maybe I should try with that marsh man.”

  That widened Agathe’s eyes. “Baer? Have you smelled him?”

  “Yes.” Hiix sighed. “He’s delicious. So masculine.”

  Their ideas of yummy obviously differed.

  “I’m going for a walk now before I taste dinner for a second time.” Speaking of which, she wondered if she could find another piece of that syrup pie.

  The kitchen they’d eaten from earlier was closed, but she wandered toward music. Lights were strung along a wide, woven branch walkway, crisscrossed with paths and booths. She found someone selling a wispy version of candy that melted in her mouth. She didn’t have any coin, but she did manage to trade a blessing from the Shield Goddess for a treat.

  She took it to a quiet platform that gave her a glimpse of the stars. It had been a long time since she’d seen the night sky. She chewed on her treat and did her best to center herself.

  Tomorrow, they’d resume their journey to the King’s City. She needed a plan before they got there.

  “Who are you waiting for?” Maric’s sudden drawl ruined her pleasant evening.

  “No one. And that includes you. Go away.” She purposely ignored him and took a bite of her candy.

  The creak of leather and the squeak of wood showed that he did the opposite. He sat beside her and dared to snare a piece of her candy.

  She moved the rest out of reach and hissed, “Mine.”

  His smile shone despite the shadows. “Which makes it more delicious. I thought Soraers were about sharing.”

  “With other Soraers. Not the King’s men.”

  “You really hate him.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” He lay down beside her, fingers laced behind his head.

  “This again? Do I need to count the ways? Despot. Lecher. Power-hungry fiend. Ruiner of happy families. User. Leech.”

  “Have you ever met him?”

  “No,” she was forced to admit. “I only saw him once in full armor.”

  “Interesting. Especially since you have all these ideas about him. See, I actually know him. Fairly well, as a matter of fact. This version of him you keep spouting off about is grossly inaccurate.”

  “What about it is false? Does he or does he not collect purple-eyed people?”

  “He does, but so did his ancestors. It’s a practice that has gone on for generations.”

  “Just because something is old doesn’t make it right.”

  “Even though it’s done for good reason?”

  “Nothing can justify what he does.”

  Rather than reply to her statement, he said, “Centuries ago, our ancestors used to deal with the mist on a daily basis. According to the history books, the thickest of fogs would boil over the rim every night, bringing nightmarish monsters to attack the people in the towns, even reaching as far at times as the King’s City. The entire Kingdom might have been wiped out but for the brave who fought against it. In those days, the Soraers of the Shield were a force to be reckoned with.”

  “Aha, so you admit you know women can fight.” She fixated on the last part.

&
nbsp; “Those of that time could. But you and I both know today’s Shield Soraers bear little resemblance to them.”

  A valid point. “I’m assuming this history lesson is going somewhere?”

  “It just so happens that the King ruling during that era discovered a way to push back the worst of the mist, which, in turn, kept the monsters at bay.”

  “Let me guess, it involved the Blessed.”

  “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate.

  Agathe decided to be bold. “Because of their magic.”

  When he didn’t reply immediately, she assumed he’d lie. But he surprised her. “Not many know about the power of the Blessed because most of them can’t access it.”

  “But the King can?”

  “The King has a way, yes. And before you ask, most agree to give it to him.”

  “Most. Not all.”

  His lips pressed tightly. “Sometimes, there is no choice and it must be taken.”

  “All in the name of the greater good.” She stared at the stars. He was giving her food for thought, and she had to wonder why. But rather than ask directly, she slid a look at him from the side. “You had purple eyes when you joined the King’s Elite.”

  “All the soldiers are Blessed.”

  “You were okay with having your magic taken from you?”

  “A soldier has no need of something he can’t use.”

  “What is the King doing with it? How does the magic help against the mist?”

  “I’ve said too much already.”

  “You’ve told me nothing that I didn’t already figure out. What I’d like to know is why the men get to become soldiers and leave the Citadel and not the women?”

  “It’s to protect them,” he said a little too quickly.

  “Liar.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because you are taking three innocent young girls as sacrifices to the King, never to be seen again. How do I know they won’t simply be killed, their magic taken the moment they enter the Citadel?”

  His voice turned hard. “Because we’re not murderers.”

  “Just depraved kidnappers.”

  “If you can’t handle it, then leave.”

  “And go where? I don’t have a home anymore.”

  “I’m sure the other Abbaes would take you in.” He proffered a simplistic answer.

  “Maybe I want to do more than cower inside some walls.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like not have annoying conversations.” She rose to her feet, only to have him shadow her.

  “Running so soon? And here I thought it would be my turn for answers.”

  “I know nothing that would interest you.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

  “What do you want to know?” She never expected what happened next.

  “I want to know how your lips taste.”

  And then he kissed her. A hard press of his mouth to hers that ignited her in a way she’d all but forgotten. It left her breathless and hot. Yearning and aching between the legs. Confused, too.

  She shouldn’t desire this man.

  “No.” She pushed away from him, and he didn’t press the matter. Didn’t follow her either as she fled, her heart racing and her mind in turmoil.

  Knowing that she’d have a hard time sleeping, she took some of Venna’s sleepy-time tea and settled into the bed beside Venna, soothed to sleep by the even breathing of her Soraers.

  The next morning, she awoke to a cry, along with a hard shake.

  Agathe blinked tired and heavy eyes, managing a dry, “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Neelie. She’s gone!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “How could Neelie be gone?” Agathe asked as she paced inside the room holding the two remaining acolytes. The girl had been there when she’d come to bed the previous night.

  “I d-d-d-on’t know.” Korra had been crying and could only sniffle at this point.

  Belle sat on her pallet and appeared bored. “She probably ran away.”

  Possible, it just didn’t seem likely, especially since Korra and Neelie shared a close friendship.

  Hiix had a different theory. “More likely, she got lost on the way to the lavatory.” Slang for peeing in the communal latrine area.

  “She would have woken me. She didn’t like going alone,” Korra huffed.

  “I’m sure she’ll be found soon,” Venna soothed.

  “Rest while we handle this,” Agathe said.

  Apparently, that involved Hiix grabbing both Agathe and Venna by the arms and dragging them into the hall.

  “Are you sure neither of you saw or heard anything?” Hiix questioned, not for the first time.

  “We were all sleeping.” The tea had knocked them out. They should have been safe. Was Neelie taken, or had she run away as Belle suggested?

  “And don’t be looking to blame us for not noticing she left. Weren’t you guarding the hall?” Venna asked.

  Hiix blushed. “I might have, um, taken a short, um, break.”

  “Short? I’ve seen the man; I highly doubt that,” was Venna’s sly reply.

  To which Hiix achieved even brighter cheeks.

  “I’m sure she’ll be found shortly.” The general was conducting a search, door to door, leaving no chest or closet unopened. However, Agathe feared the worst and blamed herself. She shouldn’t have drunk the tea. She should have been alert. But, no. Instead, thoughts of Maric had frazzled her.

  They spent the morning searching, with the remaining two purple-eyed acolytes restricted to the room and guarded by Baer.

  The gossip had Neelie as having run off with a lover. Never mind the fact that they’d just arrived. The nagging knot in Agathe’s belly wouldn’t leave. She feared for Neelie’s wellbeing.

  Maric worried, as well. She’d heard him shouting, demanding answers, angry at himself for placing his trust in this seemingly benign location. Agathe understood the sentiment since she suffered the same frustration.

  It almost made her feel a camaraderie with him that reminded her of the surprisingly good kiss. One that confused, since she didn’t actually like the man. And she wasn’t one to casually indulge—not anymore.

  As morning turned into afternoon, a commotion below led to her spotting Maric scrubbing a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. Someone brought him a wineskin, which he accepted. The lift prepared to go down, and she hopped into it.

  As it arrived at ground level, she went straight for him. “You didn’t find her.”

  “No, and I doubt we will. She hid her tracks well.”

  “You don’t think she was taken?”

  “It seems unlikely. Even if they were quiet, do you really think someone could have snuck into your room, taken the girl, and not be noticed?” It sounded rather ridiculous when he said it like that.

  “She wouldn’t have run away.”

  “Maybe she took a fancy to someone and they helped her. Maybe it was you,” he accused.

  “Me?” she exclaimed.

  “You’ve made it clear you’d rather the Blessed not be brought to the King.”

  “I didn’t abduct Neelie.”

  “Says you. Without any clues, all we have are theories.”

  “With someone or alone, she can’t have gone too far.”

  “Maybe not, but we can’t waste time looking. We leave in the morning.”

  The statement hit her hard, and she exploded. “Leave? We aren’t going anywhere until we find Neelie.”

  “You want to stay and search, go right ahead. I have a mission to complete.”

  “But she’s Blessed. You said it yourself; the King needs her.”

  “He does. However, because of the current situation, I must think of the Kingdom first, which means delivering the two remaining Blessed.”

  “And too bad for Neelie?” Agathe snapped. “That’s cold.”

  “It’s necessary.”

  “Would you do the same if one of your men were missing?�
� she riposted.

  “Yes.”

  “Liar.”

  Abruptly, he grabbed hold of her and yanked her close. “I wouldn’t like it, but I would do it because the life of one is not worth that of the many.”

  “Tell that to the King, who thinks his needs supersede those of everyone else,” she hissed.

  “The King does what he must. Something you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I understand more than you can imagine,” she said with a sneer. “You, the King, his soldiers, you’re all the same. Treating everyone born without the eyes and dangling bits between the legs as lesser beings.”

  “As if you don’t, Miss I-Serve-My-Goddess-And-Listen-To-No-One-But-Myself? That must be nice. Some of us are looking beyond our own selfish wants and needs. We give up everything to serve the citizens in King’s Valley. Give everything to protect you.” He still held her and had yanked her high enough she stood on tiptoe, close enough to see the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the blueness of his eyes.

  This close, she remembered the kiss. And when his nostrils flared and his grip tightened, she knew he recalled it, too.

  He suddenly released her and stepped away. “You should return to your quarters and lock the door.”

  “You think the kidnapper will return?”

  “No. But best not tempt anyone.”

  For a second, as his smoldering gaze held hers, she foolishly wondered if he spoke of himself.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The next day dawned cold and damp. The Soraers of the Shield were subdued, except for Belle. She’d risen early and bathed. Her hair was neatly bound in braids and crowning her head. Her gown had been spot-cleaned, and the sash for the waist was snugger than usual, outlining her curves. She kept batting her lashes and smiling at Maric, who did nothing to discourage her.

  It sickened Agathe. A grown man, encouraging the fawning. It just proved his kiss was but a sham.

  The horses that emerged from the hole in the bottom of the massive tree were thick creatures with long gray manes and shaggy cuffs of hair around their hooves. They were also terrifyingly tall.

  Maric and his men mounted the steeds and, one by one, held out hands to the Soraers to ride with them. It led to some consternation, as Korra’s robe wasn’t made for straddling. Naam fixed it by arranging her sideways in front of him.

 

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