The specter drifted closer but halted when Sarn held up a hand.
"Don't touch me. I said I’d help you and I will."
The ghost's shoulders slumped, and its gray face fell into distressed lines.
"Look, I didn't mean—" but Sarn got no further than that before a branch dripping black ichor pinned him to a boulder.
Everything stopped. Affected and unaffected trees alike stood, rooted to the spot. The infected tree strained. The tip of its branch rested against the hollow of his throat, but it could not pierce his skin. The rules governing its existence allowed harm only to those who broke its three rules, and he hadn’t.
Relieved, Sarn brushed the branch away. On contact, white light leaped from his hand cleansing the infection and chased out the darkness.
“What’s happening to them, has something to do with what happened to you, doesn’t it?”
The ghost nodded and tugged Sarn to his feet.
At least the basic rules were still in play, but that was a small comfort. There was no rule protecting travelers from accidents. Those infected trees could still hurt him just not directly.
A glowing branch pulled Sarn behind several Shayarin oaks intent on battling the dark trees.
“I can drive out the darkness.”
More enchanted trees formed up ignoring his offer. Their branches pointed, urging Sarn to run. When his magic stayed quiet, he understood.
“Curing them won’t solve the problem.”
The ghost boy shook its head and tugged, determined to tow Sarn away from there.
Spinning on his heel, Sarn ran with the frightened ghost clinging to his arm. He required no more prodding. I must reach my son before this corruption does.
Chapter 8
“I’ll kill him.” Ranispara punched her palm since her husband was out of reach.
“Are you sure?” Inari shaded her eyes and scanned the horizon. “Or is that all talk?”
“I’ll kill him. I swear it. The son of a bitch deserves it for what he did to Sarn.”
Ranispara shifted her weight causing the water-smoothed stones to slide around under her boots.
No moon rose as evening fell, leaving the tide to ebb and flow in a peaceful rhythm veiled by shadows. Refusing to be soothed, Ranispara kicked the wave curling ashore, interrupting it. She hugged her anger to her, coiling it around herself so she could sic it on Gregori the instant the big lug set foot ashore.
“I can’t believe he’d do something like this. I thought the last time was it, and there wouldn’t be any more of this insanity.”
Ranispara kicked a stone sending it clattering down the gentle slope into the river. Bending, she seized several more intent on throwing them too.
“We all thought so.”
Inari’s comment dragged Ranispara around to face her friend. She dropped her ammunition, and the stones thudded onto the rocky beach.
Before marrying Nolo, Inari had hunted the enchanted forest to feed her family. She'd traveled most of Shayari with tinkers and tradesmen. Meanwhile, Ranispara had never left Mount Eredren’s environs.
Hell, I've never even visited Racine, and it's twenty miles downriver. So Inari might be only a year older than her, but the woman had far more life experience.
“How could he do such a thing? Doesn’t it bother him? It must bother him even if it’s only a little. I mean, after all, Sarn’s been through—” Ranispara pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. But the image had burned itself into her retinas.
A man with a bloody knife and the saddest eyes she had ever seen had crouched over an unconscious Sarn. Blood had wept from a gash running the length of Sarn's face. And his dark hair had haloed his head pillowed on that pitted stone floor. One arm and one leg had lain twisted at unusual angles to his body. He’d only been fifteen at the time.
Ranispara rubbed her eyes, wiping away tears. Darkness spread its hands in the east readying itself to grab the river valley and plunge it into night. Not a single bird took wing. No one loitered about either save her, Inari and a few others who had business with the harbormaster. The flat ribbon of the River Nirthal reflected the empty sky oppressing her, and she shivered despite the May afternoon's warmth.
But something felt wrong about all this beyond what her husband had done. I just can't put my finger on what.
Inari squeezed Ranispara’s shoulder. Her dark eyes gave no hint of whether the image tormented her too.
It must; the saint had nursed Sarn back to health. Seeing him day in and day out struggling with the most menial tasks must have broken her heart. Thinking about the incident rung more tears from Ranispara. She wiped them away.
“He’ll be alright. He can fend for himself,” Inari said.
If the forest cooperates, but Ranispara kept that worry to herself and said instead, “Did you tell Nolo that?”
“Of course.”
“How’d he take it?”
“Not well as you can imagine.”
Silence fell, and not even the river dared to break it. Ranispara kept her thoughts to herself and her eyes on the river.
“Something’s coming—something big,” shouted Nerule, Inari and Nolo’s eight-year-old son. He lay on his belly on the roof of the harbormaster’s abode with a spyglass pressed to one eye.
“Let me see!”
“No, me! I want to see too.”
Before the squabbling intensified and someone fell off the roof, Ranispara whistled. Her nephews let go of the spyglass and covered their ears.
“Enough, everyone will get a turn.”
Inari glanced at her son. But before she could utter a word, Nerule handed the spyglass to Jorey, who sat to his right. Inari nodded, a half-smile quirking her lips in approval.
“It’s a ship,” Jorey announced then handed the spyglass to his brother.
Ranispara regarded her nephews. Both boys knew better than to indulge in any more roughhousing. She turned on her heel and stalked toward the dock to confront the inbound vessel. Gregori must be aboard. It was time the culprit returned.
“You think he’s on that ship?”
Inari stirred but checked that impulse because someone must keep an eye on the boys, preferably two of them.
“Oh, I know he is. He’ll return as quickly as he can to see our reaction. You can bet on it.”
“Where are you going?”
Ranispara didn’t answer.
Gregori stepped off the gangplank, and Ranispara slammed her shoulder into his side, knocking him off balance. Locking her arms around his waist, she threw all her weight against him, and he toppled into the river.
Ranispara sent the absent Sarn a thank you for teaching her stealth. The Kid's sixth sense compensated for partial deafness in one ear, making it tough to sneak up on him. But it was still possible with a little practice, and the 'practice' had turned into a game. One the Kid had enjoyed because it gave him something to do and a challenge to overcome. Having his mobility impaired by casts and crutches had added an extra layer of fun to the game.
Everything had gone fine until they had taken the game outside. Ranispara shook those memories away and concentrated on her interrogation. Gregori hit the water struggling against gravity.
His limbs struck out in all directions in an uncoordinated jumble as he sank. Spluttering, Gregori shouted some nonsense about drowning. His protests gave her plenty of time to gain her feet.
“Why did you do it?” Ranispara applied her boot to Gregori’s chest and pressed down with all her weight.
Gregori spat out water after a wavelet rolled over his head. “I can’t swim!”
She rolled her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know like why you kidnapped Sarn. What’s the Kid ever done to deserve that?”
Gregori grasped her ankle to shove her off him, but she had the advantage.
“Let him up, please. You’ve made your point,” Inari pleaded.
Ranispara glanced at her friend over her shoulder. During all the drama, the boys had vacate
d their rooftop perch, and Inari had corralled them. Both of Ranispara’s nephews stood slack-jawed and agog.
Nerule tried to pry his mother’s hand away from his eyes. While not pitch-black like his father, Nerule’s skin was the color of a good varnish. From his light-skinned saint of a mother, he'd inherited large, curious mahogany eyes. And one of those eyes stared at her from between his mother’s long fingers.
Ranispara had planned to interrogate her husband alone but now, she had an audience to consider. Perhaps it was time to revise her plan.
“I had to do it. Don’t you see?” Gregori said between coughs. He spat more water out, but his struggles had all but ceased. Maybe he’d noticed the water came only to her knee.
“No, I don’t see, and you’d better make me, or I’ll let you drown. I swear it.”
Ranispara glared at her husband, letting her anger show. Under it lay other things, strong currents of conflicting emotions, but they had no place here. She laid a hand over the tangled mess throbbing where her heart should be and grimaced.
“No, you won’t.”
Jerlo had an uncanny way of knowing what went on in and around Mount Eredren. Or he had a network of skilled spies. No one knew for certain which it was.
She’d expected him to drop in at some point. Later would have suited her better, but Jerlo operated on his own timetable. One he never deviated from no matter how much it vexed his subordinates.
“I did say I would handle this. I said so this morning. But with all the stress and worry clouding your mind, accidents happen. This is an accident, right—one you’ll rectify immediately.”
Ranispara threw an angry glance at her boss. Jerlo caught and held her gaze then dipped his chin once. His features had more fox in them now, and the fox stood ready to pounce. Perhaps he’d slept a bit since this morning.
I've lost this round. It’s time to hand my husband over to a higher authority. One who promised to make him pay for this outrage. Ranispara removed her boot from her husband’s chest, slapped both hands on his head and pushed. You’d better expect a fight when Jerlo finishes with you.
Ranispara splashed her way out of the river slapping the posts anchoring the dock on her way. Inari met her on shore with Nerule in tow. Since no one had paid them any mind, her nephews had stayed to watch the show.
Nolo rushed across the beach and arrived just in time to haul Gregori up and demand, “where is he?”
“Not here.”
Gregori coughed, spat more water, then coughed some more.
“We know.”
Jerlo clasped both hands behind his back and regarded the sky.
Incensed, Ranispara jabbed her thumb into her chest. “You’ll let him rough my husband up? I’ve earned the right to do it myself.”
Beside her, Inari covered her son’s eyes and retreated. Her face betrayed her dilemma. Should she let Nerule watch an interrogation his father conducted? Or should she take her son back to the mountain and miss hearing the reason behind all this drama.
She also had a soft spot for Sarn. They all did except for Gregori. Over the years, Sarn had invaded their hearts, becoming more than an indentured servant.
“Who said anything about roughing him up?” Jerlo’s brow quirked up.
Nolo glanced at the commander, and his face reflected the same surprise poleaxing Ranispara. Her lips flapped for a moment then angry words poured out of her.
“But we must. We need to know where Sarn is. And he’s the only one who knows.”
“Is he?”
Jerlo turned on his heel gesturing for Gregori to follow.
“You know?” Ranispara shouted right over Nolo’s protestations.
Jerlo halted, shaking his head while she and Nolo pelted him with questions and accusations. The commander's shoulders bowed until he cut them off.
“Of course, I didn’t know. I found out when you did about this mess.”
Jerlo’s remark caught them both off guard. The lapping of the river sounded too loud in the sudden silence.
“We need to know where he is.”
Nolo spread his hands wide in entreaty.
“Yes, we must go get him,” Ranispara seconded.
She moved to stand closer to Nolo but stalled out halfway there since her trajectory would have taken her too close to the dripping source of her ire.
“Why? The Kid’s fine. He’s making his way back here while we stand around jawing.”
Gregori rubbed water from his face with his hands. Every drop he removed dribbled back into place thanks to his wet hair. Turning, he made eye contact with each of them while he renewed his argument.
“The Kid’s a bit of a retard, yes, but his eyes aren’t decorative. There’s potent stuff in him. And we won’t find out what that glow's done to him if we don’t throw him to the wolves and see what happens.”
“You didn’t—” Ranispara stopped, appalled at the implications.
“Maybe I did.”
Gregori tossed his wife an evil grin then Nolo hit him with a right cross. Gregori’s head snapped back and he wobbled but stayed on his feet. He was one tough guy.
Nolo massaged his fist.
“You better not have.”
Gregori rubbed his chin and gave his friend a look of respect.
“Relax, I didn't involve any wolves at least not intentionally. But you never know what's out there.”
“Tell us what you did with him,” Ranispara said as she shook out her fists. We need answers, not more fisticuffs, but I really want to slap that grin off his face.
Gregori turned that shit-eating grin on her as if he’d read her mind.
“I gave him a nice long walk to think about things. Maybe it’ll improve his attitude.”
“What did you say to him?” Nolo clenched his fists for another go at his friend.
“Nothing, he had a good nap and woke to find himself alone in the enchanted forest. If his sixth sense is as good as you think it is, he’ll arrive soon. If he headed in the right direction,” Gregori shrugged as if the outcome didn't matter.
It does to me. Ranispara stepped forward but stopped when Inari caught her eye.
Her friend shook her head. Not here, those dark eyes said.
Inari was right, so Ranispara stepped back and acknowledged that.
“Enough.” Jerlo chopped a hand through the air. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”
“But a search party—” Nolo said at the same time Ranispara made a similar suggestion.
Now we're making progress. She drew up plans, but stopped when Jerlo shook his head, and regret creased his face.
“We still don’t know where to look.” He raised his voice to talk over his lieutenants. “And I’ll bet he doesn’t know either.” Jerlo nodded to Gregori.
“But he must.”
Flabbergasted at the direction the conversation had taken, Ranispara took a step toward Gregori. He must know.
“Do you? Tell me true. Did you pay any attention at all to where you left the Kid?” Jerlo asked.
Gregori stood there for a moment, mouth agape. As the realization sank in, he blinked a few times and shook his head.
“Exactly, he stopped the boat somewhere, got out, deposited the Kid, then sailed back here.”
“How did you know?” Gregori asked.
Jerlo ran a hand over the frizz ball standing in for hair.
“Because I know you. I’ll bet you boarded the first outbound vessel you found without checking the manifest. Paytor is a good man and an even better harbormaster. He was in his office the entire time with you. You had no opportunity to glance at his logs.” Jerlo’s lips quirked then flattened back out to their customary line. “I’m right aren’t I?”
Face flushed from embarrassment, Gregori nodded.
“How did you know?”
“As I said before, I know you, and I know how you act. Your impulsivity is your downfall. Now, come along. I have a punishment to mete out.”
Jerlo glanced at his seco
nd in command, then at Ranispara reading their intent.
Ranispara stood rigid as a pole. She refused to leave this beach until Sarn returned safe and sound. Nolo folded his arms over his chest and looked about as ready to budge as Mount Eredren itself. No doubt, Jerlo read their determination.
“Good, you two organize watchers. I want eyes round the clock on the forest. Keep watch on the southeast. The Kid will come from there.” Jerlo’s lips twitched again, but no smile appeared. “I did check the manifest after you reported to me. Rumor claims Captain Argin’s a smuggler. I read an illuminating report about a suspected landing thirty or so miles southeast of here. I’m betting Gregori offloaded there.”
“We should fetch Sarn,” Nolo said.
“You think the Kid is waiting around for rescue? The brat learned early to fend for himself. No, he got moving the instant he realized what’d happened.” Jerlo shook his head. “If it’ll make you feel better, send out patrols. But they won’t find him unless he wants to be found. No, the next move is his. All we can do is wait and see how he plays it. We’ve got no other choice right now.”
One glance at Nolo’s tense body and his clenched teeth proved he felt likewise. And that made Ranispara feel a little better.
I know Jerlo’s right, but I hate that he is. It's so unfair. Ranispara wanted to argue the point, but she had nothing to gain by it. So she let it go and turned her gaze southeast to the forest, banishing her husband and her boss from her sight.
Doubt niggled at her. Will Sarn return or did Gregori’s betrayal destroy what little trust he had in us?
“I don’t like it.”
Nolo unfolded his arms. Turning, he faced southeast and let his troubled gaze roam over the enchanted forest until the Queen of All Trees showed herself. White light flowed from her making the concentric circles of menhirs gleam before she vanished into the distant tree line.
“Neither do I,” Jerlo said, jolting Nolo back to the conversation at hand. The commander gave no hint of whether he’d seen the Queen of All Trees. “But it’s what we’re stuck with.”
“You’re using this to test him. You won’t authorize a search because you don’t think he’ll return.”
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