The Daath Chronicles- The Complete Series

by Eliza Tilton

  “How strong will I be?”

  He laughed a wheezy, gurgling sound. “Stronger than any of us.”

  “Is The Council aware of your research?”

  Romulus shook his head. “No, they have yet to discover the connection we have with the human females, but in time they will learn.”

  But not before my plan had come to fruition. “Well done, Romulus.”

  I stood. “I’ll see you when I return from the tunnels in a few days.”

  He ignored me, already lost in his strange dissection.

  Chapter Six

  AVIKAR

  My stomach churned as I studied the red stains splattered across the ground. I knelt and swiped a finger across the sticky substance and sniffed. Berries. I should have known it wasn’t blood—the consistency didn’t match— but I had to be sure. My heart thumped and I was sure the kidnappers could hear it, but they were nowhere near us. It was just nerves.

  Three deep breaths later, I continued tracking, recalling Calli’s every detail. I examined the footprints smeared on the grass. The large heavy prints of the captors and the faint small prints of my sisters, both crisscrossing each other in a rugged path.

  “Find anything?” Derrick said.

  “Not yet.”

  “Time’s running out.”

  I glanced at the sky. The suns were descending. Soon it would be night. My chest tightened, and I had to control my breathing again, pushing aside the fear of losing Jeslyn.

  Wild strawberries spread in all directions. By the stream lay two wicker baskets smashed into splinters.

  “Do you think she’s still …” Derrick gripped the wooden emblem he always wore—a symbol of The Creator, three wavy lines, representing water, enclosed with a circle.

  “I don’t know.”

  I traced each step, imagining how the attack unfolded. I pictured the three men Calli described—how did she escape when Jeslyn couldn’t? I studied the dance at my feet—two had fallen, and then they’d stood. I spun to the left, following the vicious display. In one direction were Calli’s footsteps and two of the kidnappers while Jeslyn’s tracks led to where the woods began.

  There, on a tree, swayed a red ribbon. I walked over and grabbed it from the branch.

  “I gave that to her yesterday,” Derrick said and I handed him the ribbon.

  He tied the cloth around his wrist. His jaw clenched.

  The dead forest stood in front of us. I squinted past the long line of black and grey trees. “This way,” I said, and slowly we led the horses into the blackened woods.

  Cherrywood, a once vivacious forest, had been torched last summer by a lighting storm. Some of the vegetation had started growing back, but not the trees. Beautiful oaks now resembled twisted iron. I stared at the tall black pillars, and my heart sank.

  Wind passed through the forest, causing the broken trees to creak and groan. Crows screeched from overhead. A trio of ravens pecked a dead rabbit. Every sound made my pulse beat faster. Derrick pointed out a piece of cream fabric stuck on a briar bush. I inspected it, remembering the dress Jeslyn wore at breakfast. Pain and anger swallowed my fear, pushing me deeper into the woods, towards her.

  Chapter Seven

  JESLYN

  I don’t remember fainting, but I must have, as I awoke in a sea of black. Was I still unconscious? No. The ground moved beneath me. My eyes were still adjusting to the dark, and I couldn’t see if I was alone.

  It smelled awful, urine mixed with body odor. I covered my mouth with one hand and searched the area with the other. Is this hay? My fingers touched the thin, tough object. Yes, most certainly hay. I heard a rustle in the dark.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” On my knees, I inched my way towards the noise, my eyesight getting sharper. Fear pricked my skin, making me hot and cold at the same time. Where was my family? Where was Calli? What if Calli hadn’t made it home? What if she was dead?

  Don’t think such things, I thought. Everything will be all right. I just need to find my way out of here. I could hear men talking outside and thought I might be in a wagon.

  Searching the rough floor, I grazed cold skin and jerked my hand away.

  A hand snatched my arm.

  “Get off me!” I yelped.

  “Don’t scream,” said a young girl with haunting eyes, her face barely visible in the dark. Her hand tightened around my arm. I pushed against her.

  “Let go of me,” I said.

  “Shh,” she hissed. “Please, you must be quiet.”

  “Why?”

  The sound of metal grinding echoed around me.

  The girl’s eyes swelled with fear. “They’re coming,” she whispered, and slid away, deeper into the darkness.

  Light poured in from the open door and I shielded my eyes. A man stood in the sunlight, his face and body silhouetted.

  “Quiet in here,” he said, voice thunderous.

  “Who are you?” I said. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I said, quiet!”

  My voice lost itself, and I cowered against the wall.

  “Any noise and I’ll see that you’re silenced.”

  He didn’t wait for my response. The door closed, taking with it all the light. The girl with me said nothing, making the dark even more unbearable.

  Pulling my knees against my chest, I closed my eyes and said the prayer for protection. Mother always said The Creator would protect us. I held onto her words, letting them comfort me. I was brave and only a few things terrified me, but my biggest fear of all was the dark.

  Panic pricked my chest. I forced myself into distraction thinking of Derrick, pulling happy memories of him from my mind and letting them shield me from the blackness.

  If I could pretend I was somewhere else, I would survive this.

  The girl across from me coughed.

  I followed the sound, scooting closer to her. “Do you know where they’re taking us?” I whispered.

  “No, and you must be silent. Please.”

  “I will, just a few more questions. I promise he won’t hear us.”

  When she didn’t respond, I continued. “Where are you from?”

  “Urima,” she said.

  “Urima? How? That’s on the other side of The Valley of the Kings.”

  “I don’t know …”

  Urima was on the western shores of Tarrtainya and, due to the long valley, there were only a few passage-ways to it. It would take a normal caravan weeks, possibly months, to make the journey.

  “Do you know why they took us?”

  “No, but I heard one of the guards say they only had a few more girls to collect.”

  “Collect? For what?”

  An object banged against the side of the wagon, scaring me so that I lost my breath. The girl placed a hand over my mouth. I could just make out her fear-stricken face.

  I nodded, but it was already too late.

  The wagon door flung open.

  “I thought I said no talking, girl.”

  His dark hand reached for me, and I screamed, louder than I ever had before.

  Chapter Eight

  AVIKAR

  Silence surrounded us. No chirps, no big bellied frogs, nothing, not even the wind. Doubt taunted me. All my life I’d wanted to adventure outside of Lakewood. To go on a grand quest and become a heroic ranger. I’d pestered my father to teach me everything he knew about herbs, hunting and tracking. It seems luck has a sense of irony.

  The trail we followed from the woods led to one of the main trade routes. Derrick guzzled water out of a canister while I assessed the road. Grooved into the dirt were big wagon tracks continuing north. Jeslyn’s footsteps disappeared next to one of them. I counted four wagons next to six horses. Calli described the men as ragged looking. I assumed they were Roamers, nomads passing through. I should have known they wo
uld be with a larger group. Roamers always travelled in packs.

  “What is it?” Derrick’s husky voice cut through the eeriness.

  “There are more than three kidnappers.” I pushed my flap of hair out of my eyes and sighed.

  “What do you mean ‘more’?”

  “The tracks we’ve been following end with these wagons. She must be in one of them.”

  Derrick rubbed his forehead. “How many men?”

  “Maybe ten, maybe twelve. I can’t be certain.”

  Derrick’s face scrunched in horror. “Twelve men? We can’t handle that many.”

  I refused to believe that. “We’ll surprise them. Set traps if we have to. We’re both skilled fighters, and I can take down at least three with my bow before they suspect a thing. We can do this.”

  Derrick began pacing. The claymore strapped to his back bobbed with each step. “This is different, Avi. We should go back to the village and get help.”

  I shook my head. “No, it will take too long. By the time we return here, it’ll be almost two days. And what if it rains? These tracks will vanish.”

  I turned away from him and petted my horse, Brushfire, before climbing back onto the saddle.

  Derrick’s shoulders slouched. “I hope you’re right.”

  We rode hard and swift, pushing the horses to their limits and only taking brief moments of rest. By sunset on the second day, we had to stop.

  “How could they be so far ahead of us?” Derrick said. “They’re in wagons!”

  He tied the horses to a large tree and we searched for water.

  “I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my scalp. “We should have caught up to them by now.”

  Every dung I had checked was old, none of it made sense. We were moving fast. Wagons couldn’t move faster than us.

  A wolf howled in the distance. I shivered. A fog had rolled in with the setting suns, covering the bottom of the forest. I surveyed the tall pine trees and tried to pinpoint our location. We headed straight, north on the eastern trade route, which would bring us to—Raswood Forest.

  “Derrick,” I said, pulling my long sword out.

  Derrick arched a brow at me, then folded his arms and grinned.

  “Scared of a wolf are you?”

  “We’re in Raswood Forest,” I whispered.

  Derrick’s face paled, and in one swift movement, his claymore was out and pointed at a tree. “You could’ve warned me.”

  Raswood Forest, one of the wild territories Father taught me about. Full of wild predators, including winter wolves—large white nightmares that hunted in packs and killed anything in their path. I’d rather face a group of Roamers than have to fight one of those beasts.

  It was too dark to hunt, but we had to find food. The fanna we packed would only sustain us for so long. I thought we would’ve found Jeslyn and been back already. Where were they taking her?

  We made camp by a large stream. Silver specks darted around the rushing water.

  “Glimmer fish!” For once, things were going our way. Glimmer fish were easy to catch because of their shiny scales and big schools.

  Derrick and I made a bet that whoever caught the smallest fish would have first watch. I was the better hunter. It would be an easy win.

  I watched Derrick take a net out of the pack. By the time he had that mass of string untangled, I’d have caught five fish already. I traded my sword for my bow and lined up a shot. For the past five years, I’d won every archery contest at the Puring Festival, and I never missed.

  Ready, set …

  “I got one!” Derrick shouted.

  I jumped at Derrick’s girly shrill, my left foot slipping on the mossy stone. I flailed my arms, trying to catch myself, but failed and fell backwards into the water. The splash scared away all the fish except the measly one my arrow managed to pierce. I punched the water, getting wetter by the moment. I heard another howl, grabbed the shaft of my arrow and sulked back to camp.

  Derrick smirked as he turned the fish over on the fire. I sat across from him, scowling and picking at a fish too pathetic to eat.

  Derrick stifled a chuckle.

  “Stop it.” I threw the fish into the fire and watched it turn to ash. My stomach grumbled and Derrick handed me one of his roasting sticks. Normally, I’d decline out of pure stubbornness, but the fresh scent of cooked glimmer was too tempting. I grabbed the stick and bit into the meat, burning the bottom of my lip.

  “It was your fault I slipped,” I said in between bites. “You screamed like a little girl and distracted me. You never would’ve won if you played fair.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Derrick said with a full mouth. “You’re the biggest cheater I know.”

  I would’ve argued, but he wasn’t completely incorrect. Three summers ago, we were almost thrown in the river when I got caught cheating at knucklebones.

  We sat by the fire, staring into the flames. Clouds covered the stars, surrounding us in a dreary black. Wind wheezed through the old pines, causing them to creak. I held my cape closer to my body, warming myself.

  “How did this happen?” Derrick buried his head in his hands.

  I perched my elbows on top of my thighs. I didn’t want to think about Jeslyn. We bickered non-stop. I’d spent a good portion of my day figuring out new pranks to play on her. Now it seemed such a waste of time. Losing Jimri was hard, but at least he knew I loved him. Jeslyn could die assuming I thought she was a royal pain. I couldn’t bear the thought of her in danger.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Things have been peaceful in the lands, especially with The Puring Festival only weeks away.”

  There were five annual festivals in Tarrtainya, but the Puring was the most celebrated. It was the only festival when our family ate beef. Cows were needed more for their milk and cheese, and beef was a luxury only the rich could afford, but during the festival Lord Tyre had his own cows killed. Two browns. Father called the Puring a day of remembrance. A reminder of the Dark Wars and how The Order saved us all from the dark mages. Seemed like just another excuse to drink lots of ale and eat loads of meat.

  I wanted to tell Derrick we’d find her and that she was all right, but I lost my voice. My thoughts drifted to Jimri then to Jeslyn. Childhood memories flooded my mind. I pushed the images away.

  Thinking about them only made it worse.

  Derrick said goodnight, and I watched him fall asleep. I could never fully relax. Most nights I passed out from exhaustion. Raking manure all day under the suns not only tanned my skin but drained my every emotion. By nighttime, I’d fall onto my feathered cot and into a deep sleep. But sleep brought the nightmares. Visions of drowning. Screams of terror. And everything I deserved.

  I rubbed the sides of my head, hoping the pain would dissolve and I could think clearly. It wasn’t working. How was I going to scout full of anxiety? Only one thing would help me focus. I slipped out the old leather book I had snuck in while packing. Inside the pages of this journal were laid the anguish and fear of the past two years. No one knew about it, and I’d die before anyone read it. Avikar the Poet is not the title I wanted.

  Words flowed out, scripting all the guilt and sorrow I kept inside. The thin piece of red clay I used was shrinking. Once gone, it would be awhile before I could find more. Writing utensils were rare in my village and asking Mother to buy one wasn’t an option. With my head a bit clearer, I snuck the journal back in its hiding place.

  The fire had trickled to a low pulsating glow. Warmth emanated from it, touching my cheeks and spreading across my body. I listened to the pops of the dying wood. The melodic symphony relaxed me, and I rubbed my eyes. I rolled out my shoulders and cracked my neck. Derrick lay flat on his back, mouth slightly open, snoring nasally. I decided I’d better start my rounds before the wolves decided to brave the fire.

  The horses whinnied. A twig snapp
ed in the distance.

  Reaching for my bow, I slowly stood. To my left and right were yellow eyes and low growls.

  “Derrick.”

  The massive creatures stalked towards me. I strung my bow, raised it, and pointed it at the closest wolf. “Derrick!”

  Derrick groaned. I hoped he was getting up, because in a few seconds we’d be surrounded.

  The first wolf stepped forward. Two more wolves appeared on either side. The one in the center growled, revealing rows of pointy teeth. Winter wolves were bigger than the small brown bears that lived near our home. Their ears pointed straight up like a jack rabbit and their eyes glowed a sickly yellow. In a white flash, the center wolf sprang forward. I released the arrow and it sunk into furry flesh, but still the wolf came and fast. It pounced and I stumbled back, trying to switch to my sword. Before the beast’s teeth closed, Derrick’s claymore sliced into its side.

  “Aren’t you supposed to have first watch?” he said, turning to face the other wolves.

  “I was getting bored,” I shouted. “We need to drive them away from the horses.”

  Derrick yelled out a war cry before charging ahead. Letting out my own war cry, hardly as menacing, I ran at the snowy white creature. I sidestepped to the left, sweeping my sword, hitting one in the chest. The wolf whimpered, then fell.

  Derrick yelled again and I spun in his direction. The distraction almost cost me my arm. Claws raked against me as a wolf jumped, trying to knock me down. I backtracked to the fire and, using my sword as a poker, pulled out a flaming timber.

  “Ya, ya!” I waved the torch back and forth, pushing the remaining animals away. When the last set of glowing eyes retreated into the dark, I exhaled. “That was close.”

  I expected Derrick to make another snide remark, but he didn’t. I turned around and saw him running straight for me with his sword drawn and eyes wild.