Riley watched as the old sorceress made her way up the beach. Riley didn’t move. She only stared, still in awe of what she’d just witnessed, and not caring that she could now perform—at least somewhat—the magic that had evaded her until now.
Chapter Nine
“You know these jackasses are trying to get us killed, right?”
“Nope,” Kris answered Brighten. “I think they’re just trying to make a man out of you. Little do they know, you have no nutsack.”
Brighten shook his head but said nothing. The two of them each had a bag over their back, and if the contents of either of those bags were to be inspected by one of the infinite number of guards patrolling the streets, the two of them would find themselves in stocks.
Or worse.
Perhaps they’d find themselves with nooses around their necks.
“You’re so scared,” Kris said, “that I bet I can tell you what you’re thinkin’ ‘bout right now.”
“Hell no, you can’t.”
“I bet you you’re wondering what happens if we get caught with these bags,” Kris responded. “Actually, I bet you that you’re thinkin’ about how they’ll kill us.”
Brighten swallowed but said nothing.
“Ha! Knew it!”
“Shhhh! You’re going to get us fuckin’ caught!”
The two of them were carrying these damned bags to drop them off at a house Eisen said was loyal to the cause. Eisen couldn’t go, because he’d be spotted immediately in the streets.
How fucking convenient, Brighten thought.
The two kids were hiding in a tiny alley and peering out at the house across the street. It was a busy road, with horses and buggies constantly moving back and forth. Things had sort of gone back to normal after Rendal’s little speech about the bombs hanging over the kingdom.
Guards were everywhere, though. A constant threat.
Brighten knew who they were looking for—the original Honor Guard, Erin, Lucie, Kris, and obviously Brighten.
“We need to go back,” he whispered. “We don’t even know if we’ve spotted all the guards. Some of them could be in disguise, just riding in a buggy like any other moron.”
“Ain’t no way I’m going back to Erin and Lucie without having dropped these bags off at that house right there. You want to take your sorry ass back carrying it, go right ahead. My bag is going to be at that house, though.”
“How are we gonna do it, then, genius?”
Kris smiled. “Like this.”
She stepped out of the alley into the street.
Sweat blossomed across Brighten’s brow, and his heart raced double-time.
“Kris!” he whispered harshly. “Kris, get your ass back here!”
She acted like she didn’t hear him, and now he had a very simple choice: stay here or go.
“I hope a buggy runs her down in the street,” he whispered to himself, then stepped out of the alley.
Kris walked as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As if she was supposed to be here on this busy road, carrying a bag about the same size as her full of goodness-knows-what. Brighten hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to know, although the damned thing was heavy.
Brighten lugged the bag, carrying it over his shoulder and doing his best to catch up with Kris. She seemed to not notice they were separated.
“Kris! Slow down!”
Luckily, a buggy rolled across the street and she was forced to stop. The bag on Brighten’s shoulder was making it hurt like hell, but what was he going to do, put it down in the street?
He walked up next to Kris. “That was messed up.”
“These are too damned heavy,” Kris grumbled. “Eisen is an asshole.”
“Or you’re just weak.”
“Yeah, I bet you’re not struggling at all.”
The buggy passed, and the two continued across the street. The house was about a hundred feet ahead.
“We go around back, right?” Brighten asked.
“That was what Eisen said.”
Brighten kept his eyes peeled, looking up and down the road for any sign of a guard.
They reached the sidewalk and Kris paused, setting her bag down.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“This thing is heavy.”
Both were out of breath, but Brighten wasn’t about to stop in the middle of this sidewalk and put his down. “Pick it up. Come on, we’re almost there.”
He looked to his left and right. A man farther down the road was watching him and Kris curiously. Brighten said nothing, just started forward. He reached the edge of the house’s yard but didn’t turn around to see if Kris was following.
That man looking at them had been enough.
He rounded the yard, heading for the back of the house.
Please let him not be a guard. Please let him not be a guard.
He repeated the phrase in his head, hoping that might somehow make it true.
Brighten turned the back corner of the house, leaned against the outer wall, and dropped the bag to the ground. His shoulder felt like it might fall off; just drop right to the grass.
Breath surged in and out of his mouth.
He was just about to peek his head around the corner to look for Kris when she arrived.
“Someone’s coming,” she said. “A man. He started coming when you walked off. You should have stayed there with me!”
“Stayed with you? You’re the damned one who got his attention by stopping and putting your bag down like that!”
“We ain’t got time to argue. Grab that thing.”
“How far away is he?” Brighten asked.
“I don’t know. You want me to walk back out and ask him? ‘Excuse me, sir, how long do you think it’ll take you to walk down the rest of this little sidewalk here?’”
“Grab that shit. Come on,” Brighten said.
He picked up the bag and hoisted it over his shoulder again. The pain was remarkable.
They walked the rest of the way across the back to a wide wooden porch. Eisen had told them where to leave the stuff, but he hadn’t told them what to do if some man walked up on them while they were doing it.
Brighten ducked under the porch, the sunlight disappearing and darkness reigning. Kris quickly followed him.
“There, I see it,” he whispered. Ducking, he continued walking. If anyone was inside the house—hell if anyone even lived here—Brighten didn’t know. Didn’t care, either. He just needed to drop this godforsaken cargo off.
Sure enough, Eisen hadn’t lied. There was a wooden door beneath the porch that connected to the house. It had been left open, with an unlocked padlock hanging from it.
Brighten tossed his bag through the door and backed up so that Kris could do the same.
“You’re so damned slow,” he told her.
She was grinning. “I’m just trying to make you look fast.”
He slammed the door shut and snapped the padlock into place. “Come on.”
Brighten went forward, popping out on the other side of the wooden porch.
A man turned the corner of the house. “What are y’all doin’ back here?”
“What’s it to ya, mister?” Kris asked, stepping forward. “Last time I checked, Rendal runs this place, and from the looks of it, you ain’t him.”
“You had bags over your shoulders. Where are they?” the man asked, completely ignoring Kris’s challenge.
“Oh, those bags?” Kris grinned devilishly. “We left them at your mom’s. We were so tired when we left, we couldn’t carry them, if you know what I’m sayin’.”
The man’s eyes widened, and his face glowed red. “You two are coming with me.”
“Fat chance!” Kris shouted, and took off around the man.
She was far too quick for the stranger, and he turned around, his hand flailing to grab her but missing. Brighten wasn’t dumb. He knew why Kris had gone that way; to give him a chance to run in the opposite direction.
Brighten t
ook off, his feet carrying him as fast as they possibly could, but not as fast as Kris’s carried her.
The world passed him in a blur—green and brown, people and horses. Brighten didn’t care. He simply didn’t want to be caught, and this was nothing new to him. He’d grown up running from people just like that man.
He didn’t know if the stranger was behind him or how close. He just knew to keep going.
He took a left, a right, and another left, winding through the kingdom as he made his way back to home base.
Finally, twenty minutes later, he fell into Mac’s Lodge.
Brighten leaned over, his hands on his knees, sucking in air. He looked up into the dark atmosphere of the lobby. “Kris? She make it back?”
He was so out of breath that he could barely speak.
“I been back a while.” Kris grinned from her chair across the lobby.
“You did good, kid,” Eisen said.
Erin walked over and handed him a glass of water. “Here, drink this. She told us you guys got chased but that you managed to leave the cargo?”
Brighten took the water but didn’t drink it yet. He didn’t want to throw it up.
“Hurry up,” Kris said. “Eisen says we’ve got more cargo to take.”
Her eyes were shining.
“I hate you all,” Brighten said, and vomited in front of his feet.
The room erupted in good-natured laughter.
Chapter Ten
The sun beat down oppressively.
Harold sat beneath it, his camel handling it much better than he.
He didn’t want to be out here, and he really didn’t want to be chasing this dumb bitch. Riley Trident was going to be the death of him, and yet Harold continued doing Rendal’s bidding. Looking for her, and trying to bring her to him.
“They’re beneath the ground,” Belarus said.
“Beneath?” Harold didn’t believe it, but what the hell was he going to do? Tell these mages they were wrong?
“That’s what they say, boss. A group of mages under the ground.”
“Bring me one of them. One of the ones saying it. I want to talk to him.”
“Aye, boss,” Belarus responded. He spurred his camel forward.
They’d been traveling for days without seeing much of anything. Harold hadn’t even spotted any tent cities yet, although he knew that was just a matter of time. An hour ago, the mages in front of him had sent word that they were sensing other magic users. They’d continued traveling, and now the fools were saying the people lived beneath the ground.
The force in front of Harold was large, spreading out across the sand. It took them an hour to make camp and an hour to pack it all up, which slowed them down. Yet, they were necessary—Harold knew that. If they came upon the bitch, Riley, she was going to give them a run for their money, even with this many people.
Minutes passed, and then Belarus returned with one of the mages.
Harold didn’t care about the man’s name.
“What’s this? You’re telling me people live beneath the ground?”
“Yes, sir. They use magic, and they’re using it against us right now.”
“Against us?” Harold asked.
“Psychic magic, trying to understand what we’re doing.”
Harold looked at the sand beneath his feet. “They’re right below me?”
“Below all of us, sir.”
“Are we using magic against them?”
“Not yet,” the mage answered. “Waiting on your orders.”
“Well, hell, go on and get started. I need to know what they know.”
“It may…it may cause a battle, sir,” the mage said. “They may come above ground and try to fend us off.”
“Let them come. I hope they do. Go on and get started,” Harold repeated.
The mage left, but Belarus stayed.
“What do ya want me to do, boss? If they come up, you think the soldiers should be prepared?”
“When the Father and Mother gave out brains,” Harold mused, “they decided to give you fewer than should even be legal. Someone should arrest them for how dumb you are. Yes, Belarus, go prepare the fucking soldiers.”
Belarus grinned at the joke, clearly not understanding that Harold was serious. The man was an idiot. He spurred his camel again and trotted off.
An hour passed in relative peace. Harold watched the mages work, although he had no idea what they were doing. Some sat in the sand. Some waved their hands around like fools. All of their eyes were bright red.
“HERE THEY COME!” one of them shouted, cracking through the silence.
Harold grew alert, unsheathing his sword. “Who?!” he shouted.
“They’re coming up from beneath the ground!”
As if on cue, sand exploded a hundred feet in front of Harold. It flew into the air, spraying the sky and everyone around it.
Red-eyed hellions flew up from beneath, fire blazing from their hands.
Harold rode into action. This was what he was made for—to fight. To kill. Not to go fetch young women for his master.
His soldiers did the same.
Fire and electricity blazed around him, striking men dead. The heat was severe, but Harold paid it no mind. He hopped off his camel in front of the first man he saw, slicing him through the middle and leaving his guts bleeding on the sand.
He heard screams, and at least once fire latched onto his leg, burning through his pants and flesh. He swatted it out and kept going.
More men fell at his feet. Women, too. Harold cared not.
Finally, he stood with his sword at his side, his chest heaving up and down, the dead all around him.
He blinked. He felt the bloodlust leaving him. Was there no one left to kill? People screamed and moaned, some on his side, some with the enemy.
“BELARUS!” he shouted, half-hoping the dimwit had died.
The Father and Mother truly hated Harold though, because Belarus came running.
“Here, boss! Killed at least seven of ‘em!”
“Are any alive?” Harold asked.
“This one is!” a mage shouted.
Harold looked to his right and saw the mage dragging the man by his shirt through the sand. The prisoner was bleeding badly; Harold didn’t think he had much longer to live.
“They know who she is,” the mage said. “All of them know Riley Trident. That’s why they came up here. Not because we were trying to use psychic magic, but because they realized we were hunting her.”
Harold looked down at the wounded man.
“My name is Thomas, and I’m one of The Chosen,” the dying mage said. “She’s going to kill you—you and the one you serve.”
“So, you do know who she is. Maybe my mages aren’t useless after all.” Harold ignored the look his mage gave him. “Where is she?”
“I’d sooner cut my throat than tell you,” Thomas said.
“Hmmm...” Harold looked at the mage holding the dying man. “Ask around. Find out if anyone knew where Riley went.”
His mage’s eyes lit red for about thirty seconds. Harold knew he was communicating with the rest, trying to find out if anyone had broken through using their psychic magic.
Finally, his eyes faded back to their normal color. “We know where she is.”
“You’re sure?” Harold asked.
The mage nodded.
Harold smiled and looked down at the wounded man. “No need to slit your own throat, pal.”
Harold shoved his sword through the man’s neck. His cry was sharp and short. Harold removed his sword and looked at his mage. “Where is she?”
“They went to the northeast. They’re looking for a woman named Linda.”
“To the Great Dead Reef?” Harold asked. “North of Sidnie?”
“Yes, sir.”
Linda. Harold had heard the name. Rendal had spoken of her, but briefly, and not often. Rendal somehow knew the woman, although Harold didn’t think she mattered much to him. He only needed to brin
g back Riley. The rest didn’t concern Rendal.
“Belarus, how many people are still alive?”
“Us or them, boss?”
“Them?”
“Not a lot,” Belarus answered.
The mage spoke next. “There are more beneath the ground. They didn’t send everyone up after us. We can go beneath and finish them off if you want.”
Harold considered it for a moment.
“No. We don’t have time. Leave them. They’re no threat.”
“What about us, boss?” Belarus asked. “We got some injured.”
“Those who can come should come. Those who will only slow us down… Damn it. I guess set up a camp for them, and we’ll get them on our way back.”
Harold really didn’t want to do any such thing, but he couldn’t very well say that aloud in front of the men.
“Okay, boss. What about…you know, making sure everyone is healthy?”
Harold whipped around to him. “Leave them provisions, but we’re not here to keep them healthy. We’re here to get that bitch Riley and bring her back to Rendal. If we don’t accomplish that, are you going to tell Rendal? Is that something you’d like me to let you do?”
“Nuh-nuh-no, boss. I was just wonderin’, ya know. I’ll get the camp started.”
“Yes, you do that, Belarus.” Harold looked across the desert.
This had been fortuitous. Now they would find her and bring her back. Maybe she’d fight, and maybe Harold’s army could kill her. Maybe they wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore.
Chapter Eleven
“What the hell?”
William dropped his plate as Riley spun to see what was happening.
William moved across the porch, although he was too slow to catch Alexandra. Her plate hit the floor and shattered. She was on her hands and knees, her eyes closed and pain on her face.
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