by Beam, Brian
“Damn, it’s locked,” I muttered as I pulled on the door’s handle to no avail. “Let’s head upstairs and see if we can get the key from Ant.”
Back in the barroom, the front door started rattling in its frame. This was followed by several heavy knocks. “I know you are still open. I can see the lights in there,” Bill called out loudly in his rough voice. The drunken man at the bar didn’t stir in the least.
I caught Til’s attention and held a finger to my lips. We grabbed our cloaks and backpacks from the table and made our way up the stairs. Ant was just exiting our room when we reached the top. He looked about ready to pass out on his feet.
“Your room’s all ready, gentlemen.” Ant craned his neck as if trying to look behind us. “Is that someone knocking down there? I ain’t locked the door yet.”
“Ant, we need to leave, and you need to keep quiet that we were ever here,” I whispered. “Til’, give him a couple silvers.” I may have had strong morals, but I wasn’t above bribery if it meant saving my life or the lives of those I cared about.
Til’ pulled out three silver coins, the majority of what we had left, and handed them to the stunned innkeeper.
“Look, I don’t want no part of no trouble,” Ant protested shakily, trying to hand the coins back to Til’.
“Listen, Ant,” I began, trying to keep my voice down, “we haven’t done anything wrong. Please, help us.” Another round of knocking echoed up the stairway.
Ant reluctantly closed his hand. “You promise y’all ain’t criminals?”
“I promise,” I replied, ignoring that Til’ had been a thief, and that I’d probably done some unlawful things inadvertently with my prior Activated Contracts.
Ant licked his lips nervously, but he pocketed the coins. “Okay, but if y’all need to sneak out, you got to go out that window there,” he said, pointing to the end of the hallway.
“What about the back door?” I asked. “Can’t you just unlock it for us?”
“There ain’t no back door. Downstairs, there’s jus’ the storage closet,” Ant explained, drawing a sigh from me. Who doesn’t have a back door to their business?
“All right,” I conceded. “Give us a slow count to thirty before you open the door. I’m sure he won’t hurt you, but he may break down your door if he thinks we’re in here.”
Ant, clearly shaken by the whole situation, nodded and started down the stairs. Til’ and I ran to the end of the hallway. The casement window was held shut by a simple hook latch. As I flipped the latch and pushed open the window, I heard Bill’s heavy boots stamp into the inn.
“So much for that slow count of thirty,” I muttered. I leaned out the window to see a straight drop to the muddy ground. I pushed Til’ ahead of me. “You first. He can’t hurt me.”
Til’ climbed onto the windowsill. I grabbed his hands and lowered him as far as I could before releasing them. He landed hard on the wet ground, just barely keeping on his feet. I dropped our damp cloaks and backpacks after him.
Bill’s deep voice drifted up through the stairway. “Have you had a Kolarin and a young man with short brown hair about yea tall come by here?” He sounded perfectly civil, though I knew he’d be anything but if he found us.
Ant was true to his word. “No, stranger, can’t say—”
Ant was cut off by the drunken man at the bar, who of course had decided that now was the perfect time to regain consciousness. “They’s gots a room just up thur. That K’larin’s the damnedest lil’ feller I e’er did see. Made me this hur stick.”
There was a terse silence before I heard Bill’s footsteps approach the stairs.
“Malki’s blood,” I swore under my breath, practically jumping onto the window sill. As I turned to lower myself from the frame, my eyes met Bill’s in the orange glow of a wall lamp.
“We need to talk, Mr. Karell,” he said, his tattooed face impassive yet still intimidating.
“Sorry, I have plans. Try me again next week,” I quipped, nimbly dropping backwards out the window. I let my fingers briefly catch the window frame to keep from falling too fast. My feet nearly slipped out from under me on the sodden grass, but I was miraculously able to remain standing. Til’ handed me my backpack and cloak, and we started running. Bill yelled something after us, but I couldn’t make out his words.
“What about the horses?” Til’ asked as we ran.
“We’ll get them after Mister Tattoo leaves the inn,” I panted, the cold air burning my lungs.
“Then we could release his horse, and he couldn’t follow us, huh? That’s a good plan. He’d never catch us on foot. Heck, even without the horses we could probably outrun him. We’ve outrun a dragon before!” Til’ spoke without a hint of breathlessness.
We came up to the back wall of a thatch-roofed house. I slowly peered around the corner to check for Bill. He was walking through the town’s central clearing with deadly grace, his hand casually resting on the hilt of the longsword at his hip. His tattooed face swiveled back and forth, searching for us. As his gaze neared our hiding spot, I whipped back around the corner. When I ventured another peek, Bill had moved further into the clearing, his attention moved on.
The houses in Laurlan were spaced far apart, and the brightness of the full moon would make it hard to move around without being seen. Therefore, we made our way from house to house slowly, keeping an eye on the clearing to make sure Bill didn’t see us or double back towards the inn.
Once we made it to the rear of the house closest to the Old Homestead, we paused. From our position, we’d be able to make a break for the inn, unhitch our horses, and be on our way out of Laurlan before Bill could even react. When I turned the corner, however, my heart attempted to take a flying leap out of my ribcage.
Three men, two of which were Lily Pants and Crooked Nose, were stationed in front of the inn on horseback. Lily Pants was holding a soft-glowing lantern, surveying the area around them. Crooked Nose held his position in front of our horses, making any attempt to retrieve them pointless. The third man, a thick-bearded lout just as rough looking as the other two, had a longbow strapped over his shoulder. This was not good. Very not good.
“What—?” Before Til’ could finish his question, I slapped a hand over his mouth and held a finger to my lips. I tried to give him a “talk and we’re dead” kind of look. The way his silver eyes widened, I think he understood.
Once I dropped my hand, Til’ silently peeked around the corner and then quickly flung himself back against the wall beside me. With a gesture of his hands and a shrug, he seemed to ask, “What do we do now?”
At that moment, I didn’t have an answer. I figured that once Bill completed his general sweep of Laurlan, he’d probably set two of his men to search for us while the third guarded our horses. While that would’ve given us plenty of time to escape, they’d obviously been able to track us thus far, so I had to assume they could do so even more easily if we were on foot.
I shook my head and took a deep, steadying breath. I’d thought the actual journey to Tahron would be the least of my troubles. Clearly, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Our only option at this point was to go into hiding—maybe head out into the countryside a couple miles, covering our tracks. Then we could return in the morning to retrieve our horses. That was as good a plan as I could come up with on a moment’s notice, anyway.
After throwing my damp cloak around my shoulders and over my backpack, I grabbed Til’s arm to lead him away from the town. I turned only to come to a dead stop just short of a shadowy figure wearing a dark, hooded cloak. They stood equal to my own height, their face obscured by darkness within their hood. My right hand instinctively dropped to my sword’s hilt.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Do you?” The figure’s whispery voice was decidedly feminine and quite sultry to boot. I mean, I was allowed to find a voice attractive, even when my heart belonged elsewhere, right? Anyway, her thick accent marked her as someone from eastern Amirand—poss
ibly Josuan, or . . .
“You and your father are the ones here from Gualain, aren’t you?” I questioned in a whisper, remembering the drunken man’s words at the Old Homestead.
The shadow-faced woman was silent, making me wonder if she’d even heard me. After a tense moment, she finally responded, “Well noted, friend. I am Kaitlyne Remsha.”
“Kait’, not that I don’t appreciate the introduction, but your sneaking up on is a bit suspicious.” My voice came out louder than I’d intended, prompting me to swing my head back around the corner to make sure I hadn’t been heard. The three brutes were just as I’d last seen them, awaiting further orders from Bill.
Though I couldn’t see Kait’s face, I had the feeling she was smirking. “Is that how you treat all women who try to help you? Just give them affectionate nicknames and blow them off?”
Kait’s words took me back to when I’d first met Sal’; I’d done just about the same thing with her. Maybe Max had always been right about my ignorance with women. Anyway, something about this girl made me wary.
“And exactly why is it that you wish to help us?”
Kait’ raised her hand in the direction of the Old Homestead. “Seems you’ve caused enough stir for four men, all twice your size, to come hunting you down.” She then pointed in the opposite direction. “The bald one with the tattoos on his face doesn’t seem to be your run-of-the-mill tough or brigand. He seems to know what he’s doing, and by the way he moves, I would place money on him being a master with that sword of his.”
Kait’ had irritatingly strayed from a direct answer. She seemed to recognize my annoyance, continuing after only a brief hesitation. “Look, I’m just interested in learning what kind of person could warrant such attention. Obviously there’s more to you than what I see before me. Plus, I don’t like unfair fights. I have no desire to see any harm come to you or . . . your son?”
“Hey, I’m a Kolarin,” Til’ interjected with a scowl, thankfully with his voice lowered. I still checked around the corner again to make sure no attention had been drawn to our location.
Did Kait’ fail to notice Til’s pointed ears poking out from his hair or the fact that his silver eyes were so large? In what world could Til’ be mistaken for my son? Maybe she was subtly drawing information from us.
“Hm, is that so?” Kait’ mused. “That’s interesting.” Her hood slowly bobbed as she studied Til’.
“Korin, I don’t trust her. Let’s get out of here.” Til’s words held as much intensity as I imagined possible for a whisper.
“Sure,” Kait’ shrugged. “Take your chances on your own. Or, you can follow me. My father and I have traveling companions camped close by. They’ll keep you safe from these men, even if you’re tracked there. I can bring your horses to you in the morning.” Kait’ gestured towards the inn once again. “I’m assuming those horses out front are yours, right?”
“You don’t even know us,” Til’ accused.
Kait’ chuckled. “Looking at the two of you, and judging by the looks of them, I doubt that you’re the bad guys here. Besides, who ever heard of a Kolarin criminal?”
I swallowed, braving another glance around the corner. We were wasting a lot of time, and that was one thing we didn’t have to waste. “And what do you ask in return?”
Kait’ shrugged again. “No more than a few coins to aid our travels.”
I nodded, considering her offer. Just like Til’, though, I felt something was off. Before I could say anything, I heard Bill’s voice ring out in the night.
“Damn this mud. There are no tracks leading away from town. They are still here somewhere. Hullic, Ispan, take the eastern side of the town. Niliv and I will take the west. If anyone finds sign of their passage, raise the call three times. We will find them before the hour is up.”
I peeked to see Hullic—er, Lily Pants—heading off in one direction with Crooked Nose. Bill stepped into the stirrup of a piebald next to Niliv, the man with the bow.
“By Jeilan’s blood,” I cursed softly under my breath. Jeilan’s the god of dilemmas. Ridiculous? Yes. He’s actually worshipped quite widely, though. People like to either pray to him for guidance when faced with difficult situations, or to blame him for causing them. Gods like Jeilan were to blame for my wavering views on religion.
“Exactly,” Kait’ spoke in her breathy voice.
Til’s silver eyes glinted in the moonlight as he stared up at me. He wore the same expression of begrudged acceptance that I did.
“Can you get us away unnoticed?” I asked, turning my attention back to Kait’.
Her darkened hood dipped in a nod.
I was more than a little uncomfortable with Kait’ being so enigmatic. “Will you show your face so we can at least see who we’re tossing our lot in with?”
Kait’ silently reached up and pulled the hood of her cloak back over dark hair drawn tightly into a tail. Uncannily striking facial features matched her sensuous voice, both delicate and sharp at the same time. Her dark, tilted eyes were full of intriguing mystery, her full lips smirking.
Max would’ve shaken his head at me with his trademark huff for staring dumbstruck at Kait’ while four large men who meant to do bad things to me combed the streets of Laurlan. I broke my gaze from her, hoping she’d thought I was just sizing her up. And no, not in that way.
“Til’, we may not have much of a choice,” I conceded.
“I still don’t trust her,” Til’ whispered fiercely, glaring at Kait’. “But it may be our best chance of getting the horses and back on our way to rescue—” Til’ cut off sharply as if guarding his tongue from revealing too much to the mysterious woman before us.
“I agree,” I replied, though reluctant to admit it.
Kait’ smiled. “Then it’s settled, Korin and Til’.” She’d apparently picked up our names from our conversation. “Wait here. Don’t say a word.”
Bemused, I pressed back against the house and pulled Til’ beside me. Kait’ circled around the corner. I heard hoofbeats nearing us, squishing through the sodden mud. I held my breath for fear of even that being heard.
“Good evening, boys,” Kait’ greeted, her voice even more breathy at a normal volume. She had some nerve to call Bill and his bow-slinging lackey “boys.”
“Have you happened to see two men, one of them a Kolarin?” Bill questioned. “The other is shorter than me with choppy, awful-looking hair, like a blind man set to it with garden shears.” Ouch.
“Can’t say I have, boys. Should I be worried? I’d hate to be caught unaware by some lawless lowlifes skulking about in the night.” Her voice had taken on a mockingly helpless tone.
Niliv snickered. Well, I assumed it was him. I couldn’t see Bill letting such a sound escape his lips.
“No, I am just looking to question them,” Bill replied curtly. Yeah, “question” us. That made me want to snicker myself. “Thank you for your time, Miss . . .”
“Remsha. Kaitlyne Remsha,” Kait’ responded, her tone nearly flirtatious.
“A pleasant night to you, Miss Remsha.” The squishy hoofbeats started away from where Til’ and I were hidden.
Moments later, Kait’ appeared. She stared at the two of us briefly as if expecting something. “You’re welcome,” she stated sarcastically when we remained silent. “They won’t check here for tracks anytime soon. Follow me.” Kait’put up her hood and started briskly away from the town’s central clearing.
With one last doubtful look shared between us, Til’ and I hurried after her.
Chapter 7
Day 11
Day 11
It’s been days since I last wrote, I know. Boakler and Stemon took my journal pages away in retribution for calling them some names I won’t mention here. Given my father, there was little else they could do to me. They returned the pages this morning, but I’ve learned that I must be more careful with my words.
I overheard Boakler and Stemon conversing with Alix and Jisan yesterday. They’ve deci
ded to keep a tighter watch for Korin because of what they read in my journal—I still can’t believe the bastards read it in the first place. Boakler said that if Korin shows up, he won’t be as “generous” as the last time he saw him. The very thought gives me chills. I can only assume that they’ll find more excuses to comb through my journal for mention of Korin now.
Considering that writing in this journal is all that’s keeping me sane in this carriage, I’ve decided to keep all of my new entries hidden. I’m going to hide them underneath the carriage floor’s carpet. I’ll also keep a set of fake entries to keep my captors from suspecting anything. I’ve already been thinking of ways to have a little fun with the fake ones.
Moving on, I’ve decided that I’m not going to let my life go down the path of my father’s wishes. In my head, I’ve been reciting again and again exactly what I’ll tell him when I arrive at the Academy.
What it comes down to is that I’m not going to stay at the Academy any longer. It’s been years since it truly felt like home to me anyway. My only purpose there is to keep the Grand Wizard title in the Fellway name. I couldn’t care less about that, though my father seems to believe it’s all I’m good for. I know that there’s something else for me outside of that place. Something more than playing wife to the next Grand Wizard.
I don’t know how to break the news to Saiyre just yet. But as I said, my father’s wishes are no longer my concern.
I need to find a way to talk to Max. He’s being fed—I’m sure the type and amount of food isn’t to his discernment—but he’s not responding to the questions of our captors. They witnessed him talk and use magic the night we were taken, so they’re reasonably frustrated by his silence.
Fortunately, they won’t dare do anything to harm him. They know that he must be brought to the Academy alive and well for study. Once in the laboratory, though, I’m afraid of what the researchers will do to him in order to draw out his secrets.
If I could just speak with Max, maybe we could work out a plan to get him back to Korin. Sadly, any requests that I’ve made to see him have gone unheeded. This is all such a mess.