The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  They continued running until they were well out of sight of the temple. Fenir glanced around and then motioned for them to follow him into the trees. They hunkered down, all of them breathing hard, lungs struggling to filter out the terrible red smoke they’d inhaled.

  “We don’t have much time,” Tomias coughed, bent over with his hands on his knees. “Garild, are you okay?”

  Garild looked stricken by fear. His dark eyes darted about nervously and his face had gone dreadfully pale. “I’m fine, but Isa… they did something to her. We were never going to the work camps of our own free will. I don’t know what she did, but it was like she broke her, just took away her soul.”

  Tomias and Fenir exchanged a glance. “What are you talking about, Garild?”

  “She said she was helping us, that she was just going to let our minds recover. All she did was touch Isa and it was the life was sucked out of her. They made her just the workers, just lifeless. No, Allseer, they can’t all be that way…”

  “Allseer, damn her!” Tomias spat. “She’s been unbinding them. This is unforgivable, and if we’d gotten there any later, you’d have suffered the same fate.”

  There was a familiarity to the word, a stirring of a question she’d tucked away and forgotten about. “You’ve mentioned that word before, back when Herzin attacked me. What is it?”

  Tomias glanced over his shoulder nervously. “Listen, normally unbinding occurs naturally. It’s the breaking of the mind, and it is often caused by severe stress or damage. It doesn’t kill you, but it leaves you empty and defenseless.”

  “Herzin is causing this unbinding intentionally?”

  “She can do it intentionally, which is precisely the problem. I don’t know how, but she’s been breaking their minds, making them easier to control. Can’t exactly have a rebellion if half your subjects can’t even think for themselves.”

  There was a shout from beyond the trees and they all fell silent. Tomias crept closer and knelt down. “Kir, we’re out of time,” he whispered softly. “Trista should have your things together. I don’t know what you’ll find out in the woods. Maybe there is something out there, some way for you to get us help. You may be the only hope we have now.”

  “Don’t say that,” Kirheen retorted. “You can’t seriously think this is still a good idea. If Herzin can really do that, none of you are safe. We either need to fight or everyone needs to leave.”

  “And what of the people they’ve already broken? Do we just leave them behind? And those still loyal to Nyson, how do we convince them of the truth? There is too much to unravel here, Kir, and I don’t want you and Garild caught up in this. You are our students, and it is our duty to protect you, even if that means sending you away. We’ll hold things together as long as we can, but I want you two well away from here before they figure out what we’ve done.”

  Kirheen couldn’t handle the tone of his voice. There was a finality in the way his eyes travelled across her face, as if committing it to memory. His gaze locked to hers and she could sense the wordless goodbye in those cinnamon depths, silent and dreadful.

  “Tomias, please. We can’t…”

  “Take care of each other,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her tenderly on the forehead. Without another word he rose and he and Fenir went crashing through the underbrush, rushing off in the opposite direction to lure away their pursuers. Kirheen wept, but she refused to let their sacrifice be in vain.

  I’ll come back for you…

  Kirheen motioned for Garild to follow, and together they crept through the trees, skirting the path until they reached Trista’s home. She approached cautiously, staying behind the house so they couldn’t be spotted from the main path. Reaching up, she tapped a few times on the back window, hoping it was loud enough for Trista to hear.

  She came around the corner a moment later, arms laden with two overly stuffed packs. She glanced between them, her brows furrowed. “Where is Fenir? Tomias?”

  “They stayed behind to buy us time,” Kirheen explained, feeling a fresh wave of guilt batter her soul. If anything happened to them, Trista would never forgive her. Trista nodded sadly and handed a bag to each of them. They had straps sewn on the back to make them easier to carry.

  “I put what I could in there. There are medical supplies, blankets, extra robes, water and food. There is only so much there, so make it last as long as you can.” She remained stoic as she prattled off her list, but as soon as she’d finished, her eyes glossed over with tears and she leapt forward to give Kirheen a quick hug. “You two stay safe out there. Whatever you do, whatever you find, stay together. We’ll figure this mess out and follow when we can.”

  She turned to Garild and swept him into a hug, pressing her lips close to his ear and whispering something Kirheen couldn’t quite hear. She shooed them off into the trees, pushing against their packs to get them moving. “Go, go!”

  Kirheen didn’t look back. She couldn’t afford to think it might be the last time she ever saw home, the last time she ever saw the people she loved and cared so much for. There was too much at stake and she couldn’t threaten their plans. All that was left to do was run, to search beyond the boundaries of the life they’d known and hope they found some way to end the chaos they were leaving behind.

  CHAPTER 27

  The sun was slowly descending when Kirheen called for a stop. She could no longer keep up the frantic pace they’d set, her body and mind too fatigued to keep pushing through the dense forest. Her muscles protested the stopping as much as it had the running, and an all-consuming thirst shifted to the forefront of her mind. Her lips were dry and cracked, and she tasted blood as she ran her tongue over her lips.

  She sank to the ground with her pack, her ears perked for any sign of pursuit. There was only silence. Satisfied that they’d be safe, at least for a few moments, Kirheen began to dig through her pack, sighing with relief as her fingers wrapped around a cold jug filled with liquid. She worked the stopper loose and took a cautious sip, the cool water sliding across pained lips and into a wanting mouth. She wanted to drink more, but she could already feel the weight of the jug shifting as she gulped down another mouthful. There was no telling how long they’d be in the forest, or if they’d find water along the way. The thought of being stuck in the wilderness without it terrified her.

  There was a pack of dried meats and a few wraith flower cakes kept safe in a small box. She picked at one, hoping the restorative quality of the plant would help ease her fatigue. Garild ate in silence, chewing slowly on a piece of dried meat. She could feel his gaze from time to time, wandering her way only to flit away again a second later. When he’d turned his attention back to his pack, she allowed herself a brief glimpse at his face. He was a mess, his dark hair grown long and disheveled. His brown eyes held no warmth, an icy wall that stopped her from looking deeper.

  When they had finished eating and their bags were packed, he spoke. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

  “I’m sorry?” Kirheen replied, unsure she’d heard him correctly.

  With an uncomfortable clearing of his throat, he raised his voice. “Thank you,” he said again.

  “For what?”

  “For stopping Herzin. A second longer and I…I wouldn’t have been me anymore.”

  He’d almost been unbound, his mind destroyed by the very woman that had taken everything else from her. “I’m glad we made it in time. Garild, I’m so sorry. I-”

  He snorted sharply, hand rising to cut her off. “Save it, Kirheen. I don’t want to hear it. Please, let’s just keep moving. We can talk about it later.”

  The rejection of her apology stung, and she kept silent as they continued on into the forest. Without a map, Kirheen wasn’t able to make any sense of where they were heading or how long it would take to get there. The scenery barely changed as they made their way through the forest, just an endless expanse of wraith wood trees and thick underbrush.

  As the sky began to darken, fear crept up from the depth
s. Questions began to plague her mind, fueled by her fear. What if they ran out of food? Water? What if they got lost or turned around and ended up back in Sanctuary? For all she knew, there wasn’t anything beyond the forest. She didn’t know how to hunt, she barely knew how to forage save for what she’d learned in Trista’s books. The supplies they’d been given wouldn’t last forever and if they ran out…

  Hunger. Starvation. Exhaustion. Thirst. Death.

  She tried to shake away those terrible thoughts, but they stuck to her mind, scratching deeper and deeper as night fell. There had to be something beyond Sanctuary. If there wasn’t, everything they’d sacrificed would have been for nothing. When it became too dark to see and the light of the wraith wood trees cast strange disorienting shadows in the gloom, they decided to stop for the night, tucking themselves away amongst the roots of a giant tree. Despite the open wound festering between them, Garild slept close to her that night, both of them afraid of the openness, the lack of walls protecting them from whatever lurked in the forest. Neither of them slept well, the unfamiliar sounds of the surrounding wilderness making them paranoid. Kirheen longed for conversation to chase away the uneasiness, but there was none to be found from Garild. He stayed quiet, mulling over his thoughts, and Kirheen was forced to do the same.

  She’d been responsible for everything. Everyone was in danger because of her actions. She had been so caught up in her feelings and it had cost people their lives. Ian was dead. Isa had been broken. Garild wouldn’t even talk to her. She felt a deep, burning shame that grew hotter the more she thought of it. She had to make things right. If she didn’t try, everyone she knew and loved would be in danger. She couldn’t suffer anymore loss, not after everything that had happened.

  Morning brought a sky plump with heavy gray clouds. With little shelter outside of the tree cover, rain was the last thing they needed. The thought of traversing in wet clothes was enough to foul her mood, and she wasn’t alone. Garild had grown as gloomy as the sky above. He kept his eyes locked on the ground in front of his feet, never sparing her a glance. They ate in silence, the void between them growing larger by the minute.

  It had grated on her nerves long enough and she lurched to a stop. Garild looked back over his shoulder, eyes flashing with annoyance. “What are you doing?”

  Kirheen took a moment to catch her breath and readied herself for the words she needed to say. She looked at her bond mate, at how stress and anger had changed him. His eyes were bloodshot and weeping, his skin streaked with dirt. His brown hair was caked to pink skin and he stared at her with flat eyes, his lips tight and his brows knit with frustration.

  “Garild, I’m sorry.”

  “I told you I didn’t want to hear it,” he sneered. “I still don’t.”

  “I know you don’t want to. I know that you’re angry,” she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. “You have every right to be mad at me, but I can’t handle this from you right now. I just need you to talk. I need something to fill my head other than this guilt and this silence. I need my friend.”

  Garild laughed, a cruel and bitter sound that splintered her heart. “You want me to drown out your guilt? Kirheen, you did this. Ian is dead because of you. Isa is broken because of you. I’m broken…because of you.” He jabbed his finger at her, his words growing more and more forceful. “Tomias, and Fenir, and Trista are probably next. All of Sanctuary is paying for your mess because I wasn’t good enough for you!”

  The words hit like a slap, and she gaped at him, feeling furious and humiliated. “How can you say that?” she cried. “Garild, everything we thought we knew was a lie. Everything. Our bond isn’t real. The Darkness isn’t real. I made a mistake, I know I did, but it doesn’t change what is happening now. I just want to make this right, and to do that I desperately need you. I need you to be my friend.”

  Garild looked wounded, his anger having momentarily fled. “It was never just a lie for me, Kirheen. This was my life, and it wasn’t a terrible one. Here we are, running through a forest not knowing what we’ll find. There may be nothing and all of this will have been pointless. Or maybe we find something or someone, but how do we get them to help? You’ve taken everything from me. Everything I loved and wanted in this life - you’ve taken it away. I won’t ever forgive you for that. I will do what I can to help our friends, but I can’t be yours. Don’t expect that of me. I can’t do it.”

  He turned away from her then, his back rigid as he continued on through the forest. Kirheen let out a shaky breath, shoulder slumping forward in defeat. She wanted so badly to cry, to feel release, but she was far too tired and even grief felt far away, just out of reach. She felt more alone than she ever had. There was nobody to console her, nobody to tell her it was going to be okay, and she needed that lie more than she’d needed anything.

  Misery and guilt plagued her sleep, and flashes of Ian fluttered through blissful dreams that turned into the cruelest of nightmares. The days wore on and she drowned in her thoughts, in her guilt. The sun rose and fell, a cycle with no end. Their meager bit of food was quickly running out, and each day she grew hungrier, eating less and less until there was nothing to eat except what she managed to forage. Water was refilled once at a small stream they passed, but even that was running out, leaving them with little to keep them going.

  Her only hope was a subtle change in the landscape. The underbrush had started to thin, and the terrain had started to grow rocky and uneven, the trees growing further and further apart. Other trees began to make an appearance, and Kirheen studied the strange new additions with their smooth bark and broad leaves of green, the skinny trees with speckled bark, and the large cone shaped trees with sharp needles for leaves. She avoided those as best she could, the spiky protrusions causing a painful jolt, even through the protection of her robes.

  The days were growing warmer and their progress slowed, humidity sapping them of their strength and desire to keep pushing forward. They rested for a time in the shade, cautiously sipping at what remained of their water. Garild twisted a stick into the ground angrily, making shallow holes in the dirt.

  “Are you okay?” Kirheen asked cautiously. She tried to push her emotions aside, to focus instead on their survival, on keeping their mental and physical wellbeing in check.

  He didn’t look at her, he just kept staring at the hole he was making. “This is how it’s going to end, isn’t it? Here in this stupid forest with you.”

  Kirheen winced. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about it. They were out of food and their water wasn’t too far behind. Once that ran out, they wouldn’t have the strength or the energy to travel further. They’d wither away and die, their bodies picked apart by wild animals, their bones lost and forgotten and turned to dust. “I don’t know, Garild. I don’t want it to be. We’ve got to be near something.”

  “But you don’t know.”

  “No, I just…”

  Garild scoffed, throwing the stick down in the dirt. He stomped away from her into the trees, muttering curses under his breath as he went.

  “Where are you going?” Kirheen yelled after him.

  “Nowhere!” he yelled back, whipping around to face her. “There isn’t anywhere to go. We’re stuck here, Kirheen. We’re going to die in these woods. Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?”

  “You know what,” she hissed. All promises of keeping her anger in check went up like a match. She marched towards him, cracking the stick he’d thrown on the ground with a loud snap that echoed through the trees. “I’ve had enough of your attitude. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you really think I’m enjoying this? I’m not, Garild. I’m really, really not. And your tantrum is not helping anything!”

  “Nothing is going to help! There…is…nothing…out…here,” he retorted, throwing his arms out in a wide arc. He took a step back, his foot catching on a tree root, and then he was tumbling backwards into a patch of tall grass and scraggly bushes. There was an audible hiss as he hit the ground,
a flash of movement, and then Garild yelped. He pushed himself up and away from where he’d fallen with a speed aided by fright, his eyes wide as he nervously looked around. Off to his right, something slithered back into the underbrush.

  Garild held his hand up high, his breathing panicked. Kirheen looked up in alarm. Rivulets of blood were running down his hand and she rushed forward, yanking his arm towards her. There were two small puncture wounds near his pinky and strange milky blood oozed from the wounds. The skin around the bite was already swelling, red and hot to the touch.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, the shock of what had happened still settling in.

  He yanked his hand away from her and tucked it firmly against his chest. “I’m fine,” he muttered, but she could see he was in pain. She’d read about snakes, had even seen one a time or two. She knew many of them were harmless and beautiful creatures, but a select few were equipped with a powerful venom that could cause all sorts of foulness in a human. Some could even kill. But she didn’t know enough to tell from his wound if they should be worried, if at any moment he’d drop dead, but Kirheen knew they’d start to see signs soon enough.

  And if those signs started to present themselves, they’d need an herbalist if he were to survive. She swept her gaze over the surrounding forest, feeling very helpless at the emptiness she saw there. If something happened to Garild, she’d be left alone, and she’d never forgive herself if her mistake cost him his life.

  Garild led the way, still bristling with anger. She followed after him, quiet as a mouse, not wanting to rouse his anger, or hasten the effects of the venom potentially drifting through his veins. A mile further and Kirheen could see sweat beading on the back of his neck, watched as his movements slowed and wavered. She crept to his side and offered up her arm for support, but he refused it with a shake of his head.

  “Garild, please stop. You look awful. Let me see your hand,” she pleaded, trying to get him to cooperate of his own free will. He winced as she darted forward and grabbed his wounded hand. His skin was so hot she gasped and almost lost her grip on his hand. She turned it over, palm down, to get a better look at the punctured skin. His fingers had started to swell, mimicking sausages, and she might have found it funny if it hadn’t been so concerning. The edges of the bite were crusty and red, and thick cloudy blood still dribbled from the wound. He was clammy, his skin slick with sweat. She raised her gaze, but he looked away quickly. In that brief moment she’d seen the pain and fear and shame burning bright within him. “Garild, this isn’t good.”