The Green Ember (The Green Ember Series Book 1)

by S D Smith

  They reached the bottom and shot off through the stone corridors, colliding with terrified rabbits, bloody wounded rabbits, jumpy sword-swinging rabbits with looks of terror on their faces. After a few winding turns, they made it to the hallway where Smalls’ room was. As they got closer, they saw that the door was open.

  Picket ran ahead, his sword at the ready. He didn’t stop when he reached the door. He dodged inside with a cry. A startled rabbit cried out in surprise, spun around, and dropped the wooden box he had been holding.

  “Kyle!” Heather shouted. The room had been ransacked, and he was alone. “What are you doing?”

  “Heather,” he said, shrugging nervously, “I was looking for something, to keep it safe during the attack.”

  Heather crossed the room and picked up the box Kyle had dropped. “You liar!” she shouted. She opened the box but found only papers inside.

  “What did you do?” she pleaded with him. “Kyle, where is he?”

  “I did wrong, Heather,” he said, shivering and shaking, rubbing his hands together. “I made a deal, and he’s gone. He’s finished. I’m sorry!”

  Heather screamed. Picket bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. He was confused, but he had decided to back Heather up, whatever came.

  “Where is he now, Kyle?” she said, her voice strained. “Where is Jupiter Smalls, son of the betrayed and murdered king, keeper of the Green Ember and rightful heir to the throne?” She was screaming at him.

  Picket was stunned. Jupiter Smalls? Jupiter Smalls!

  Kyle slumped before Heather’s withering stare and sat in a crumpled mess in the corner. “He is betrayed,” he said. “By me.”

  “Where?” she shouted. “Where is the Green Ember? Where is Smalls?”

  “He must have it. I advised him to leave it here. I had hoped I could get it after he was gone so it wouldn’t go to Morbin.”

  “Morbin?” Heather asked. “You’ve betrayed him to Morbin Blackhawk?” She was furious, and she slapped him.

  Picket came behind her, his sword poised.

  “Yes,” Kyle said, withering. “Indirectly. I regret it now, but I had orders from my father.”

  “Talk, Kyle,” she said. “And make it quick, please! If there’s anything of good left in you.”

  “I will, Heather. I never meant to hurt you. I always thought of you as a true friend. In fact, I had hoped you would understand my reasons.”

  “I don’t care about you, or your reasons,” Heather shouted. “I just need to know what happened!”

  “Okay, okay,” Kyle said. “I have been sneaking out at night, meeting secretly with the captain of the wolf garrison down at Decker’s Landing. I made a deal with them. They aren’t enough to overwhelm this place, so I devised a plan to get Smalls away and to get this place distracted by a wolf raid while I made off with the Green Ember.”

  “What about Smalls?” Heather asked.

  “He’s headed for a bigger trap.”

  “Where?” Heather asked, seething.

  Kyle hung his head.

  “Where?” she screamed in his face.

  “Jupiter’s Crossing,” he said. “At Jupiter’s Crossing.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sundering

  There was no sign of the Green Ember in the room. Heather made certain. Kyle was right; Smalls must have it with him.

  “We can’t wait, Picket,” Heather said, turning to her brother. “We have to act fast. All the best soldiers will be in pursuit of the wolves, leaving this place empty. No one here will listen to us. We have to get to Uncle Wilfred and Lord Rake.”

  “But they’ll be far away,” Picket said. “They’ll be in the vanguard of the pursuit. We have to get to Smalls!”

  Heather stomped, paced back and forth. They must make the best worst choice. “We don’t have time to figure out the right course. We have to act. We go find Lord Rake and Uncle Wilfred. Maybe they can get a small force together. Maybe they can make Jupiter’s Crossing in time to save Smalls.”

  “Okay,” Picket said. Heather nodded. Picket went on. “You do that. But I’m going to find Smalls. You’re faster than me, and I’ve studied the maps; I know the terrain. You find help, and I’ll try to get to Smalls.”

  “No,” Heather said. “We can’t separate again! I can’t lose you.”

  “I know, Heather,” Picket said. “I don’t want to separate either, but this is beyond us and our own problems. We are Longtreaders. King Jupiter’s heir is about to be murdered at Jupiter’s Crossing. We have no choice. We have our duty.”

  There was a short pause. Then Heather said, “You’re right.”

  “What about him?” Picket asked, motioning with his sword toward the hapless crumpled rabbit in the corner.

  “We can’t do anything about him,” she said, and she ran for the door.

  Picket looked at Kyle, then at his sword. He took a few steps toward him.

  “Come on, Picket!” Heather said.

  Picket shook his head and ran after his sister.

  In the Savory Den, the wounded were being cared for. Emma was there, binding a vicious bite wound while deep scrapes bled through another wrap. The Longtreaders ran to her and made a hasty explanation. They said little about Smalls.

  “Okay, go!” Emma shouted. “But come and help me, Heather, please, when you’ve given your message!”

  Heather nodded and said, “I will if I can.” Then she ran off again, just behind Picket.

  They reached the mouth of the cave and ran out into sunlight. It was a mass of confusing sounds and sights. They were instantly overwhelmed by the noise of desperate cries for help, barked orders, muffled sobs, and a din of crackling, clanging, wild upheaval. They saw the mist, as usual, blanketing the nearby forest. There were soldiers running and doctors caring for the wounded. Smoke issued from small fires, and the whole scene seemed a blur of mad motion. There were soldiers charging into the woods, but in every direction. No one seemed in charge.

  “Longtreaders!” they heard someone shout. Heather despaired. “Lay hands on those traitors!” It was Captain Frye, and he was wounded. He broke free from Dr. Zeiger, who was bandaging his bloody arm, and ran at Heather and Picket. “Hold them,” he shouted. But chaos reigned and he was unable to get anyone to follow his command. “I’ll deal with you myself,” he said, painfully drawing his sword with his good arm. “Stay and be held accountable for this treason.”

  “It wasn’t us, Captain Frye!” Heather shouted. But the old rabbit was coming fast, surprisingly fast for his heavy frame and injury.

  Picket knew he was a deadly swordsman, good arm or not. Picket stepped in front of Heather just as Frye lunged, blocked his stroke, and kicked dirt into the sputtering captain’s face.

  Captain Frye cried out, and Picket spun on him, kicking him to the ground. He landed hard, crying out and grasping his mauled arm. Picket loomed over him, sword poised at the captain’s throat.

  “Stop!” Heather shouted. “He’s on our side, Picket!” Picket looked at his torn and bleeding arm. Wounds received from the wolf attack. This angry old rabbit had run toward the danger while most ran away.

  “You’re right,” Picket said wearily. “He’s wrong about us, but who can blame him?”

  Captain Frye gasped and clutched his bleeding arm as Dr. Zeiger appeared at his side. The captain looked up at Picket, confusion and worry showing.

  Heather peered all around. “Did anyone see which way Wilfred Longtreader or Lord Rake went?”

  Only Dr. Zeiger answered. “I not have seen them, Longtreaders. I having come out just few minutes of go. Mine sorry. Why need so bad find Lord Rakes and the Wilfred?”

  “We need to warn them of something worse, Doc. This was only a distraction from the real treachery. Jupiter’s heir is in terrible peril!” Heather said. “Picket, do you know your w
ay?”

  “I do,” he said.

  “Then go! You have to try to stop him before he gets there. Everything depends on it.”

  “I know,” Picket said. “I love you, Heather.”

  “I love you, Picket.”

  Picket spun and ran off into the woods, displacing a great swath of fog as he disappeared. Heather shook her head.

  “Wilfred, Helmer, and Lord Rake all went southeast, Missy,” she heard. She wiped her eyes and saw Captain Frye sitting up and gasping. Dr. Zeiger was wrapping his damaged arm again, shaking his head and wincing.

  “You’ll help me, a Longtreader?” she said.

  “We met a large pack of the snappers here and eventually sent them running. But we’ve paid for it.” He looked at his arm and the fallen forms of motionless rabbits nearby. “The retreat sounded, and Wilfred and Captain Helmer led the pursuit.”

  “Which way is southeast?” she asked. She couldn’t even tell where she was in the fog and smoke and clattering confusion.

  Captain Frye pointed, then put his fist over his heart. She returned the gesture.

  “Captain, there’s a rabbit inside Uncle Wilfred’s room. He’s the one you saw sneaking out at night, not Picket. They do look alike. He’s the rabbit you, well, tussled with in the Savory Den. His name is Kyle and he’s your traitor.”

  Captain Frye nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Heather ran hard, breaking through the mist as if unaware that battle, blood, and wolves waited beyond.

  Chapter Forty

  Run to Death

  Heather was running faster than she ever had, heedless of her own safety. Through thickets and clearings she ran, past boulders and groves, down the mountainside to the wolf pursuit. She was afraid of meeting with a desperate wolf on the run. She was afraid of being struck down by a confused, frightened soldier from her own side. She was afraid she would lose her footing and be injured or plummet over a cliff. But she ran on, pounding the ground, flying through the air in great galloping leaps. Time was the greatest enemy now and had for allies a thousand other perils. Could she make it to any rabbits she knew? If she did, would they listen to her? If they did listen to her, could they do anything in time to help?

  Picket would soon be miles away. His path to Jupiter’s Crossing lay on the other side of Cloud Mountain, down paths she didn’t know and neither of them had ever seen. She knew he had studied the maps. But could she be sure he knew enough to find his way?

  Something told her he would. As Helmer had said, Picket had a keen mind for figuring out distances, speeds, and the shortest route. He was always good at that in their old game of Starseek, and now he would need it to catch up to Smalls. If his greatest weakness was fear of heights, his greatest strength was calculation. But he was going in a different direction.

  She was on somewhat familiar terrain, had traveled this way before. The pursuit of the fleeing wolves was back toward Decker’s Landing.

  It felt so long ago.

  She crossed a wide ditch with an earth-spraying leap and landed smoothly on the other side, resuming the pursuit. She was headed downhill, and the speeds she reached were exhilarating. She was, in a strange way, almost happy. She had forgotten what wild joy filled her when she ran, how alive she felt. She powered on.

  In a few minutes she came to her first sign of trouble. She saw the displaced nature that was a clear sign of a struggle and caught sight of a wounded rabbit. She slid to a stop, spraying dirt, and ran to him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, breathing hard.

  “I’ll make it,” the rabbit soldier said through gritted teeth. Heather doubted this. He was very pale. She had to make a quick decision. The fate of the king’s heir rested partly with her. But how could she leave a wounded soldier to die?

  She ran to his side and rolled him over where he could rest his head against a tree and sit up. His side was slashed by a blade, and his shoulder was torn from a vicious bite. She saw his tunic, a blood-red moon crossed with spears. He was from Halfwind Citadel, perhaps a soldier serving under Captain Frye.

  She tore at his tunic and bandaged his shoulder. She wished Emma were here. But she did her best, and it seemed to help.

  She called out as loud as she could, “Help! Wounded! Here!” Then she looked back at the soldier. His eyes were losing focus. “Stay with me,” she said, shaking his face gently. He awoke and looked at her. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Jo Shanks,” he said, and he coughed.

  “Okay, Jo. You have to hang on, all right? Help is coming. My name’s Heather, and I’ve stopped the bleeding. You’ll be okay; just sit tight.”

  “Why are you helping me?” he asked. “You’re a Longtreader. The wolves … You betrayed us.”

  “No, sir,” she said, bending to kiss his cheek. “Never. But I must leave you now, Jo, and I’m sorry for that. But be strong. Today we strike a blow against our foes.”

  He smiled a half-confused smile. She cried out for help once more, then took off in her mad, heedless dash down the mountain.

  In a few minutes, she heard noises. Bad noises. She slowed and headed for the sounds she feared. She crept through stony ground, the rocky floor of a series of stony outcroppings. She stepped over rocks the size of her head and bigger.

  As she got closer, she could distinguish the sounds. A pack of the well-armed wolves was descending on a knot of rabbits. She saw Helmer at the head of them, shoulder to shoulder with Uncle Wilfred. They were outnumbered. There were seven wolves and only five rabbits. This was desperate.

  She had reached the vanguard of the pursuit, and they, in their courageous charge, had outrun their fellows so far that they had become the quarry as the fleeing wolves turned to fight back.

  “Hold your lines!” Helmer shouted, urging his fellows to stand together. “The pursuit is nearly here! Be bold and do your worst!”

  She made a hasty plan and bolted up above the skirmish and located several large rocks. These she gathered together quickly. She could hear the wolves growling as they attacked, and the sounds of bitter struggle reached her ears. One and two at a time, with great exertion, she hurled the large rocks down the hill. The rocks crashed down, could collide with friend or foe. That was a risk she had to take. She wanted the sound of them.

  She thrashed around in the wood, making as much noise as possible, stomping and shouting out, “There they are! Pursue the wolves, soldiers. Charge them, companies A and B! Attack!” She tried to sound as fierce as possible, pitching her voice low and adding all the menace she could. To this frantic ruse she lent her own life, charging down into the midst of the attack.

  Most of the wolves were withdrawing, turning to flee based on the deceptive sound. Some were in the throes of battle, and nothing could tear them away. She ran near the hottest part of the fray, on the hillside just above. Two wolves were poised over a wounded Helmer, though he gritted his teeth and lashed out with his knife. His sword was several yards away. All else was confusion, but she saw bloody contests all around. Her wild, careering rocks found two wolves, one stunning an attacker for long enough so that a rabbit was able to elude him. Another rebounded off the ground and found a snapping jaw, sending the springing wolf spinning, to land heavily on the earth, lifeless.

  She focused on Helmer and sped his way. She launched from the hillside with tremendous force, planting her powerful feet directly against the head of the foremost wolf. He buckled, crashed wildly into his fellow attacker, and they crumpled to the ground in a tangle, with Heather landing awkwardly just beside them. One wolf didn’t move, but the other shook his head, bared his teeth, and came for Heather. She made to dive away, but when she tried to lever up with her arm, it didn’t work. Broken, she realized, as the drooling jaws opened to destroy her.

  But Helmer was there. He lowered his shoulder and sprang against the wolf’s deadly leap, knocking him ou
t of the air. The wolf landed heavily and then quickly got to his feet. By now he was surrounded by fierce, furious rabbits. The rest of the wolf pack was dead or gone.

  Heather turned away as he met his end, and Uncle Wilfred ran to her side.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  “I think so,” she said, getting to her feet slowly. “I think my arm is broken,” she said, trying to stretch it.

  “Let me look at that,” Uncle Wilfred said. “And what are you doing here? Why did you disobey me?”

  “Make it quick,” she said, pointing to the sling he was creating. “We have to move.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Uncle Wilfred said.

  “Please listen! Smalls is going to Jupiter’s Crossing,” she said, panting. “It’s a trap.”

  “No, no. That can’t be,” Uncle Wilfred said, finishing the makeshift sling. Heather’s arm was now bundled against her body. But she could still run. “No, no!” he repeated.

  “Smalls has a good head start,” she said, “but Picket’s trying to reach him. They’re waiting for him there, wolves, birds of prey, who knows what. Kyle betrayed him with a story about Smalls’ mother being in danger. I have no doubt he set it up by giving good intelligence to Smalls that proved to be true before that.”

  “No!” Uncle Wilfred said. “Not again.”

  “It’s my fault,” Heather said. “I told him I trusted Kyle.”

  “Now’s not the time for blame, girl,” Helmer said. “It’s time to act.”

  “They’ll have a force there,” Uncle Wilfred said. “We have to rally the captains, as many as we can.”

  “Rake’s got the horn,” Helmer said quickly.

  “You go for Rake,” Uncle Wilfred said. “I’ll run for Jupiter’s Crossing and pick up whoever I can along the way.”