“Sarn—ah, there you are. Let’s go.”
His friend followed the Ranger down the beach without saying a word to Will.
Am I forgiven?
Will watched his friend walk up the gangplank onto one of the triremes. Unable to admit defeat, he tried out different openers in his mind until the buzzing in his ears grew too loud to ignore. It was a cross between a crowd whispering and a swarm of angry bees. The noise crescendoed as the muscular Ranger stabbed his best friend in the back.
Sarn collapsed into a pool of dark cloth. His attacker paused for a moment before throwing Sarn’s limp body over his shoulder and heading below as that buzzing cut off. Moments later, the gangplank withdrew, and the drumming began as the trireme pulled out into the current heading east toward Racine.
I must tell Miren what just happened. But Will just stood there staring instead of trekking up the mountain.
His boss, the harbormaster, exited his office, and the sight of a man who'd been a surrogate father to him startled Will into speech.
“Did you see—?”
The harbormaster nodded. “I saw.”
“Oh God—is he—no Sarn can’t be dead. He can’t be.”
Will rejected the very idea. No, Sarn’s too ornery to die.
“What did you say?” The harbormaster gripped Will’s upper arm and shook him.
“I said his name, Sarn.”
“The tall boy with the cloak—the one I’ve seen you talk to?”
Will nodded.
The harbormaster’s face drained of color. He shouted for runners and a pair of teenage brothers rushed over from a nearby wharf.
“Paper—I need paper—”
Will strode to Paytor’s office but halted when something blew past him, numbing his shoulder. Spinning to face the river, he rubbed some feeling back into his arm and nodded to a gray shape flying toward the eastbound trireme.
“Something’s chasing the ship.”
“I don't see anything.” Paytor glanced in the direction Will had indicated and shook his head. “What do you see other than that damned boat and all the trouble it’s caused.”
“Something’s chasing it, something small.”
“It’s probably a bird.”
A teen with a thatch of unruly hair handed Paytor ink, quill, and paper. Then the running turned so the harbormaster could use his back as a writing surface.
While Paytor scratched out a message, Will squinted at the flying shape. Drums throbbed as three tiers of rowers dug their oars into the river, propelling the craft. Shading his eyes, he recoiled when the trailing shape resolved into a child, lit by the rising dawn. Will tried to swallow, but his throat had gone dry. So he turned his back on the river and the boat fast receding into a wash of gold. Will tried to wipe away the afterimage, but it remained.
Do ghosts exist?
The ghost reminded him of Ran. If Sarn failed to return, his son would be an orphan. God, how can I tell such an adorable child his father’s gone?
The harbormaster finished his note and thrust it at the boys.
“Quick as you can, get this message to Jerlo. Come right back when you have, and there’ll be a copper for every minute under an hour.”
The boys grinned and raced off toward the mountain confident in their success. After all, their aunt was the sole female Ranger on the roster at present. They just needed to hand her the message. She’d know where to find her commander.
Will watched them go. I should follow them and break the news to Miren.
But that wasn't a conversation he wanted to have right now, so Will trudged into the office. Miren would be in class until late afternoon, so there was no need to hurry. But his gaze caught on Mount Eredren’s bent cone.
I should go. But Will didn't move.
Beyond Mount Eredren’s shadow-laden shoulder, a beacon shined in the retreating night. His mouth fell open as he recognized her starry crown even at a distance—the Queen of All Trees. Numinous and shining, she stood on a distant peak with her sightless gaze fixed on the fading silhouette of that trireme. Her trunk vibrated, blurring her brilliant outline. As her anger rolled across the forest, her subjects quivered.
“Are you coming in or just letting the flies in?” Paytor called out, dragging Will back to mundane matters.
Will opened his mouth, but no words rose to his lips, so he shut his mouth and glanced once more at the dawn-gilded river replaying his best friend’s abduction.
Why did the Rangers kidnap Sarn? He’s indentured to them.
Nolo sank into a chair facing Jerlo’s desk grateful to end the night there. In less than an hour, I'll have jam on scones and maybe a steak. Yes, a steak, and something drowning in honey butter. His mouth watered.
Thoughts of food distracted Nolo from the dragons staring him down from every available surface. The commander had a thing for dragons, but no one else shared his fascination.
Jerlo pushed at the papers littering his desk.
“Sarn?”
“Sarn,” Nolo confirmed, keeping his hand over his eyes.
The Litherians had been obsessed with lumir-eyed statues, and their emotionless glowing eyes reminded him of Sarn. He shuddered.
“What’s he done now? Can't he stay out of trouble for a couple of hours?”
Jerlo tried to run a hand through his afro then gave it up as a lost cause.
“Will you punish him for running off?”
Jerlo waved a hand in dismissal.
“No punishment?”
“No, he came back. I don't care about the rest.” Jerlo leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath. “What will you do with him later tonight?”
It took Nolo a moment to recall a new day had dawned, and he'd end it with another walk about the enchanted forest. But the Kid should stay away from there until it calms down.
“Drills maybe but—”
Yeah, but a massive enchanted tree had contemplated kidnapping the Kid. Why did the forest take such an interest in him?
Jerlo tented his fingers and considered. “Find something to keep him confined to the mountain. No archery either, but anything else is fine.”
“You’re right. But his ability to dead reckon is useful, especially in an enchanted wonderland.”
Nolo had come to rely on that ability, but he shifted in his chair, avoiding the commander’s keen eyes instead of admitting it.
Jerlo shook his head. “Too risky, after what happened today. I don’t want him anywhere near the forest. I can’t let a tree walk off with him. No, the Kid stays here.”
A knock sounded, rescuing Nolo from an uncomfortable situation, and Ranispara poked her head in. For a moment, the years fell away, and there stood the nineteen-year-old girl in braids Gregori had wed. Nolo blinked and eleven years fell back into place recasting the awkward girl into a woman of thirty.
“We’ve got a problem—a big one,” she said looking pissed enough to bite someone.
They both rose as she outlined their worst nightmare. Human agency, not an enchanted forest, had kidnapped Sarn.
“What do you know about this?” Jerlo snapped at her.
While not tall for a woman, Ranispara still had a hand span on their boss.
“A certain husband of mine has conveniently vanished, and this showed up.”
She held out a slip of paper. Jerlo scanned its contents before crumpling it up and tossing it over his shoulder. It ricocheted off two towers of paperwork before rolling to a stop by a dragon-shaped inkwell. Both towers shuddered on impact, but neither one toppled. Jerlo neither noticed nor cared.
But Ranispara did and a decision crystalized in her dark eyes to involve a third party with neat handwriting and no talent for skulking about an enchanted forest. Nolo approved of the decision; it would keep the Rangers' other problem member, a merchant’s son named Jallister, occupied.
“You think your husband took him?”
Jerlo eyed the lone female ranger in the ranks and accepted her nod as gospel.
<
br /> “Yes, I do. He’s done this before.”
They all acknowledged that grim truth with a nod. How far will Gregori take the Kid this time? There’s no way to know until the fool turns up. Nolo drummed his fingers on the waist-high head of a dragon statue.
“Why now? Why this morning?”
Neither had an answer for Jerlo.
“The real question is, what can we do about it?”
Nolo stepped away from the dragon statue intent on commandeering the next ship and spearheading a search, but a yawn stopped him. I've been awake since yesterday afternoon, Jerlo too judging by the dark circles ringing the commander’s eyes. They made his vulpine face look more raccoon like in the lumir light. Perhaps someone else should lead the search.
“What can we do other than wait? We don’t know where Gregori’s taking him, and there’s no boat out there capable of following.”
Ranispara gripped her upper arms instead of her absent husband whom she no doubt wanted to strangle.
So did Nolo. I'd love to choke some sense into my best friend right now.
“We must do something to get the Kid back,” he said.
“My husband planned this well. There’s no other ship ready to weigh anchor.”
“Do we at least know where he’s headed?”
“The next stop is Racine, twenty miles downriver.” Ranispara gestured eastward toward the dragon statue glaring at them.
“You don't expect it to stop there.”
Nolo gripped the back of a chair, wishing it were Gregori’s neck.
“Oh, I’m certain it will, but I doubt my husband will disembark.”
“Why not?”
Ranispara shook her head, and a set of gold tubes dangling from her earlobes chimed. Gregori had given them to her on their last anniversary on the advice of Nolo's wife.
“Too easy, Sarn could follow the river back. He can run those twenty miles in four or five hours if he’s motivated. And he will be motivated. He won’t leave his brother behind.”
Jerlo patted Nolo’s arm, dragging his attention down to his diminutive boss. But the tactician had nothing constructive to add.
“You get some sleep. I need you sharp for tonight. There’s no knowing what nonsense the forest will throw at us.”
“You didn’t sanction this—” Nolo gestured to the crumpled message. Anger at Gregori scorched his eyes. Or maybe it was exhaustion burning them.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know sir, hence my question.”
Nolo’s statement caught Ranispara off guard, and she turned her glare on their boss.
“Oh hell, not you too, if I had something to do with this, I wouldn’t have entrusted it to Gregori.”
The man had a point. Had Jerlo staged this, he’d be on that boat with Sarn not standing around his office. Nolo nodded.
“Maybe they’ll leave us alone for a while—the forest I mean,” Ranispara said.
Since she worked days, she'd missed the forest's antics last night. Otherwise, she never would have suggested that.
“I doubt it since the enchanted forest entered one of its active periods. Who knows how long it’ll last or what trouble it’ll cause.”
Nolo opened his mouth to remind his boss about the incident with the Queen of All Trees, but, Jerlo shook his head, and regret bowed his shoulders.
“If your fears come to pass, there’s nothing we can do about it except pray and wait for his return.”
“And punish the perpetrator,” Ranispara said, and there was murder in her eyes.
I wish you much luck, my friend, in surviving your next encounter with your wife. Nolo stifled another yawn.
One corner of Jerlo’s mouth quirked up, and an evil light glittered in his black eyes.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I have something to discourage such nonsense in the future.”
Ranispara reflected Nolo’s skepticism at their boss. “What thing?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. Gregori will be too busy to pull another stunt ever again. Go on. I need you at your sharpest.”
Jerlo gestured for Nolo to go and wait on tenterhooks for Sarn to return.
“Shall I set a watch for him?”
Jerlo nodded and gestured for Ranispara to get on that. She saluted, then set off at a dead run.
Nolo wanted to follow her. Instead, he nodded to his boss and allowed his feet to take him the twenty turnings to his door. But once he reached it, he stood there glaring at the polished wood. Inside waited a family he had no desire to see.
Oh, there was nothing wrong with his family. He had a lovely wife and son, but the Rangers were his life, and they left little time for anything else. Or energy since the night's doings had wrung him dry. Then there was Sarn. Worry bubbled up burning worse than heartburn.
What if the Kid's hurt or in danger? You went too far this time, Gregori. And it strained their friendship.
Nolo rubbed his throbbing temples. I must distract my wife with something. Anything, so long as it takes her mind off the list of chores waiting for me. But his thoughts kept circling back to the missing Sarn.
Then he blinked at the door in surprise. Is Sarn’s kidnapping the answer? He pushed open the door and found Inari on the other side.
“Something’s happened,” she says. Her dark eyes searched him for answers.
Nolo nodded and told her everything while she plied him with food. By meal’s end, she'd tucked him into bed and was trading her flowing garments for more practical garb. Despite giving birth to a son eight years ago, she had retained an almost hourglass figure because going anywhere involved a lot of walking. She twisted her long her into a braid, kissed his brow, and left the suite to join her best friend, Ranispara, out on the green.
After she left, Nolo threw off the covers and padded to the window. He sat down on a plush chair intending to pray. But a gleam independent of the rising sun drew his eye to a lambent profile fading into the dawn.
Nolo grimaced at the creak the window made when he tried to open it. Since he'd never replaced the rusted hinges, he had trouble budging it. But it gave finally, and he leaned out into the crisp morning.
“You leave him alone. Sarn belongs to us.”
If she heard, she gave no sign. Nor did she reappear though he doubted the Queen of All Trees had gone far. Still, Nolo repeated his injunction until it turned into a desperate plea. He prayed until thirst stole his voice.
Will she leave Sarn alone or will she kidnap him too?
Chapter 7
I must do it. But the truth failed to stop Gregori’s conscience from stabbing him right where it hurt the most.
Sarn’s scarred cheek rested against the weathered deck, leaving his perfect right side visible. The Kid looked so young and vulnerable sprawled there.
Maybe I should have come up with a different plan. No, the Kid has potent stuff racing around his body, and nobody wants to deal with it. Nolo coddles him, and Jerlo pretends those glowing eyes are just for decoration.
How can the commander know that radiance is benign?
Damn it. The kid looked as innocent as a child, and the sight pricked Gregori with guilt. Judging by the looks he received, the sight had the same effect on the deckhands.
That could be a problem. I’d better stop looming over the unconscious Kid and stow him below.
Gregori slung Sarn over his shoulder, and one of the Kid’s floating ribs poked him. Gregori shook his head.
Kid, you weigh less than someone who stands closer to seven-feet than six should. Don't you eat?
Glances both hostile and curious chased Gregori from the deck.
“My young friend isn’t a fan of boats as you can see.”
After throwing out that non-sequitur to the too-interested deckhands, he left them to adjust the sails and descended the narrow stair into the ship’s only other deck.
It took a bit of maneuvering to fit through a hole meant for sleek youths because both he and the Kid had shoulde
rs as broad as the River Nirthal Valley. With a little finagling, Gregori managed it and the narrow passageway beyond. He chose the first unoccupied chamber he passed, unslung his burden and jerked back when a shock traveled up his arm.
What the hell was that?
Sarn spilled off a cot meant for a man a head shorter than him while Gregori rubbed his tingling hand. He stared at Sarn’s cloak, but the dark green cloth lay there doing nothing exciting now.
“I didn't imagine that zap. You shocked me, Kid. Why? I'm just trying to help.”
Sarn just lay there pale and still. Gregori sighed. The Kid reacted badly to anything chemical, making this abduction risky.
I should make sure you’re still breathing. Gregori steeled himself. “Don’t you dare shock me. Do you hear me, Kid?”
No response, but he hadn't expected one, so he set to work.
Heartbeat? Found it. Still breathing? Check. Usual pallor? A glance confirmed it. Eyes doing their creepy glow thing?
Gregori paused his mental checklist and dithered for a moment before opening one of the Kid's eyes. Green light spilled out dying everything it fell on emerald. Only the iris glowed. The sclera and pupils looked normal.
How can they be when saturated by that dreaded M-word? How much of you looks normal but is magically altered, Kid?
Silence answered that question because no one knew. The Kid had power, but nobody wanted to find out what effect it had, least of all its unconscious owner. By all accounts, the Kid’s eyes had already been luminescent at fourteen. If that report gathering dust in a locked drawer of Jerlo’s office was correct.
Six years is a long time for something to work on a growing boy. What alterations had it made? Did Sarn even know?
No, which made today’s test even more important. Finding one’s limits was part of growing up. At the rate Jerlo and Nolo were going, the Kid would die before they allowed him to seek those limits.
“Time to see what you can do, Kid.”
Gregori patted Sarn’s cheek then subsided to a chest bolted to the wall and closed his eyes to rest them. He had about six hours until he reached his destination—plenty of time for a nap.
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