Shadow of the Knight (The Orb Book 3)

by Matt Heppe

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter Five

  Orlos ran through the forest wrapped in spiridus shadows. He smiled as he ran, at one with the forest, and free of the dreams that tormented him. How long would the freedom last? He didn’t want to think about it.

  For two days he’d led the inquisitors on a merry chase. Well, they hadn’t thought it so merry. They’d hate him forever, not that it mattered. They’d never find him.

  Ahead of him the Lady of the Forest ran naked. Not truly naked. She, like him, was wrapped in shadows, but in her case the shadows were glowing light. She glanced over her shoulder and laughed, her long braid bobbing as she ran. She was always happy when he returned.

  Orlos ran harder, wanting to catch her. Maybe she would speak to him. She sometimes did, although it was always in riddles he couldn’t understand. Orlos’s feet flew over the ground as he closed on her.

  She leaped over a fallen log, but instead of coming down, she turned into a spirit bird and flew off. “Come back!” Orlos shouted, but she was gone.

  He slowed his pace but kept running. Leaving Landomere had cleared his mind of the dark shadows that haunted him—for a few days at least.

  A few Landomeri came into view and Orlos changed his route to avoid them. Belavil was close now. If they saw him he’d never make it home before dark. Mother would be worried enough as it was.

  Probably mad as well.

  Belavil came into sight—a white rock rising in the middle of the vast expanse of green forest. As he ran closer he made out more details… the terraces winding their way up the sheer walls, the columns and arches of ancient ruins carved into the very face of the crag, the lush greenery of gardens and beds of everbloom, and everywhere waterfalls spilling into fountains and ponds.

  Orlos ran through gates that never closed and started up the winding path that led to the highest reaches of the city. Belavil was a beautiful mix of ruins and lovingly restored homes and shops. Every window had a flower box of everbloom, and green vines twisted up columns and walls.

  Mother said there was no more beautiful city in the world, but he had no way of knowing. He’d only seen a few Landomeri villages. Maybe someday.

  Orlos jogged past pedestrians, dodging left and right to avoid coming close enough to be seen. All around him people went about their daily business, unaware he was even there.

  Spying was rarely entertaining anymore.

  Finally, he made it to the highest ring of the city and then to the grand terrace. Only Orlos’s family lived up here, although all were welcome. Their house stood near the road leading down into the city. The rest of the terrace consisted of a beautiful park surrounding an ancient, ruined temple. Apple trees grew there, as did grape vines, vegetable patches, and everbloom.

  Mother said she hadn’t truly wanted to live up so high—that it was pretty inconvenient at times, but that the Landomeri had been so concerned that Orlos would be abducted again, they put him in the safest spot they could find.

  Orlos ran to the house. Like most on Belavil, it was partly carved out of the hill and partly of stone construction. The white stone was gaily painted, as were the shutters and beams that supported the oak shingled roof.

  Laughter came from inside. His brother and sisters were playing some game or other. Orlos smiled and walked through the open front door. The entry hall was empty and he walked back to the kitchen. His mother was there, her back to him as she cut carrots on the counter.

  “Hello, Mother,” Orlos said, shrugging off his spiridus cloak with a thought. He felt the familiar tingle as he became visible again.

  “Orlos!” She put down her knife and ran to him, giving him a big hug. “I was worried!” She pushed herself away from him, frowning now. “You were away too long, young man.”

  He shrugged. “I had to flee my nightmares.”

  “I know,” she said, concern crossing her face. She hugged him again.

  A weight struck him from behind, and little arms wrapped themselves around his waist. “Orlos!” his twin sisters, Quellas and Rellas, shouted. “You’re back! Come and play with us! Melas doesn’t play fair.”

  Mother let go of him, patted his cheek, and went back to her vegetables. Orlos tousled his sisters’ hair as he half dragged them to where Mother was cooking.

  “Hi, Orlos!” his brother called from behind him.

  “Wow, you’re looking taller,” Orlos said. At ten, Melas was three years older than their twin sisters.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” Melas said. “The beasts won’t let me be.”

  The beasts in question stuck their tongues out at him.

  Orlos took a carrot from Mother’s cutting board and crunched on it. “Want some?” he asked his sisters.

  “Yes, but Mother—”

  Orlos gave them each a carrot while Mother warned them all about spoiling their appetites.

  “Where’s Kael?” Orlos asked.

  “Father’s with the elementars,” Melas said. “Real elementars.”

  “Sulentis told us you saved them,” Mother said.

  Orlos shrugged. “I just happened upon them.”

  “I thought you’d get here right after they arrived.”

  “I wanted to come home, but I had to lead the inquisitors away.”

  “Be careful!” she said, wagging the knife at him.

  “You’re the one waving a knife around!” He backed away in mock fear, hampered by the two girls attached to his legs. “I’d like to meet the elementars. Is Sulentis still with them?”

  “Yes. Don’t be long. Dinner soon.”

  “I won’t be long. Hey, little spiridus, I need my legs.”

  “Awww. Take us with you.”

  “I’ll be back soon and I’ll play with you then.”

  “Don’t go away!” Quellas said. “Yeah! We want you here!” added Rellas.

  “I’ll stay for a while, don’t worry.” They let him go, and he headed for the door. As he exited into the late afternoon sunlight, he heard a shout from the road down to the city.

  “Orlos! Hello!” The mason’s son. Orlos waved to him. The boy turned and shouted, “Mama! Orlos has returned!”

  Orlos sighed. And so it would begin. Word would spread like fire through the city that he’d returned. And then the petitioners would show up, wanting him to find a spiridus glade, or to conduct a blessing or a marriage for them.

  He was only seventeen, but for two years or more the people of Belavil had been treating him like some venerated elder. He didn’t know any of the rituals or old traditions, but that didn’t seem to matter. They wanted him to officiate every ceremony they could dream up. His mother had forced him to learn and to do his best, but it drove him mad. When would he be free to pursue the things he wanted to do?

  At least they knew not to come onto Orlos’s family property. For the most part they followed that unwritten rule.

  Orlos walked across the park to the guest quarters there. As he approached he saw Sulentis, Escalan, his stepfather Kael, and the rescued elementars gathered in a circle of stone benches.

  Sulentis saw him and stood. “Orlos, I’m glad you made it.” The others stood as well.

  “Hello, Orlos,” Kael said. “You had your mother worried.”

  “She always worries, Kael.” Orlos had never called Kael father, although he had raised Orlos as if he were his son.

  “She has reason to.”

  Orlos knew it was true. He hated to make his mother worry, but there was nothing he could do for it. The only way to end the nightmares was to leave Landomere.

  “I’ve heard the stories of how Lady Maret and Hadde fought to save you,” Sulentis said. “It’s a heroic story. Your mother is very brave.”

  “She would do anything for him,” Kael said.

  “I don’t leave because I wish to,” Orlos said, angry at being pressed. What did they know of his torment?

  “Why then?” Sulentis asked.

  Orlos glanced at the elementars. Strangers al
l, except for the man Sulentis had brought weeks before, but Orlos hadn’t truly spoken with him. The Saladoran kept to himself, always walking with a cloud of anger over him.

  “I have my reasons,” Orlos said.

  “My apologies,” Sulentis said with a short bow. “I don’t wish to intrude. Let me introduce my friends. You’ve met Escalan and the Baron Fendal before.”

  Orlos nodded to them. Fendal was a middle-aged man, gaunt and tall, wearing fine Saladoran clothing. He reminded Orlos of an older, grumpier Sulentis, needing only the academic robes and some unruly whiskers. He was the first elementar Sulentis had rescued. Escalan, no longer wearing his armor, now appeared in Saladoran attire—high boots and trousers with a short tunic. He wore a sword at his waist, which was very unusual in Belavil. Kael seemed not to mind, and Orlos’s stepfather was a warden. If he let the Saladoran bear arms, he must have had his reasons.

  “And our three new friends, Tomin and Wenla and their daughter Varen.” Tomin and Wenla were young, maybe in their twenties, and were clearly still fatigued from their escape from Del-Oras.

  “I’m glad you made it here,” Orlos said, giving them a nod in greeting.

  “We have you to thank,” Wenla said, smiling at him. She had her arm around her daughter, holding her close. “What’s this news that Queen Ilana’s given orders that only female elementars are to be killed?”

  Sulentis shrugged. “She’s afraid of challenges to her son’s rule. Perhaps, as she’s slain so many rivals, she feels less fear. I think Queen Ilana only wants female elementars slain because the only person she truly fears is the daughter of Prince Morin and Hadde of Landomere.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Fendal said. “She’s been absolutely ruthless in her pursuit of all elementars up until this point. Now, suddenly, she no longer hunts the men? There’s something more going on.”

  “Whatever her plans, and for whatever reason she’s changed them, I cannot stand by and let this needless murder continue.”

  “How many more elementars are there?” Orlos asked.

  “Many have been killed already. Nobody but the queen and the Chief Inquisitor know how many. I have no doubt that many non-elementars have been killed as well. And not everyone born to an elementar has the ability.” He paused a moment. “To answer your question, I think there were nearly two dozen elementars revealed by Akinos’s death. It was his use of the orb that suppressed their power, and it was his death that freed it.”

  “They must all be in hiding by now,” Fendal said.

  “As you were,” Sulentis replied. “But the inquisitors found you.”

  “How do you find elementars?” Orlos asked.

  “Genealogy,” Sulentis said. “I study family histories. Not all, ahem, family ties are recorded, however, which has made my task much more difficult. There is elementar blood to be found in unexpected places.”

  “What will you do now? Will you rescue more of them?”

  Sulentis nodded. “I have to return to Del-Oras. I have one last lead to pursue.”

  “You can’t go back,” Orlos said. “They know you.”

  Sulentis shook his head. “No. They know of me. They know there is a smuggler bringing elementars to Belavil, but they don’t know who it is.”

  “They are very determined to capture you,” Orlos said. “I was right there. I heard them talking.”

  “Escalan and I will leave tomorrow. Don’t worry Orlos. I’ll discard these scholar’s robes and travel as a West Teren Baron. I will only be there a very short time.”

  “These are inquisitors,” Kael said. “You think too lightly of them. They even have spies in Belavil.”

  Tomin leaned forward. “They’re here? Are my wife and child safe?”

  “You’re safe,” Kael said. “We know who the spies are. They won’t get close to you.”

  “But why not…why not get rid of them?”

  “If we get rid of them, and I think I know what you mean by those words, it will only alert their superiors. They will send more spies—or worse. Ilana might even wage war on us.”

  “She won’t risk war with Landomere,” Sulentis said.

  Fendal laughed. “She won’t?”

  Everyone remained quiet for a moment.

  “There will be ultimatums first,” Sulentis said. “There’s time.”

  “What happens when the ultimatums come?” Fendal asked. “Do the Landomeri turn us over?”

  “No,” Orlos said. “Never. It isn’t the Way of the Forest.”

  Kael nodded in agreement. “We’ll find some way.”

  “I have a plan,” Sulentis said. “When I come back from Del-Oras, I’ll take you to safety.”

  “And if you don’t come back?” Tomin asked.

  “I’ll come back.”

  Fendal shook his head. “You risk too much, scholar. These are our lives we’re talking about.”

  “I saved you. I’ll keep you safe. Now I have to go. Escalan and I will leave at first light. It is a long journey back to Del-Oras, and I don’t wish to tarry.”

  Fendal sighed as everyone stood to leave. “This is a curse. I never wanted to be an elementar.” He marched away saying, “I don’t want to be a part of this.”

  Tomin put his arms around his wife and child. “I can only thank you again. You have our trust. And we want to thank the Landomeri as well,” he added, nodding to Orlos and Kael.

  “I’ll let the Landomeri know,” Kael said. “My wife and I were once Saladorans as well. The Landomeri welcomed us, and they welcome you as well.”

  Orlos and Kael walked back to their home after a final farewell to the elementar family. “Have the children seen you?” Kael asked as they walked the white gravel path.

  “The girls almost tackled me.”

  “They hate when you leave.”

  “I have to, Kael. I’d go mad otherwise.”

  “You’re well now?” he asked as they approached the front door. Night was falling over the forest. Lights already twinkled in the city below them.

  “We’ll see.”

  Later, Orlos lay in his bed. Everyone else had fallen asleep, but rest wouldn’t come to him. He feared the torment sleep might bring.

  I’ve been away long enough. The dreams won’t come for me tonight.

  No matter how much he wanted to believe it, his mind still dwelled on the nightmares. Finally, he drew the spiridus shadows over himself, hoping they would hide him from the dreams that sought him out, knowing full well it had never worked before.

  He turned his mind away from his fears and thought instead of the past few days. The inquisitors had been furious. Orlos smiled at the memory. He’d raced back to their camp and cut their horses’ hobbles, sending them running off into the darkness.

  When the inquisitors ran off to gather the horses, Orlos went through their gear, stealing their weapons, or tossing them into the forest. By the time they had gathered themselves, Sulentis and the elementars were too far gone to be caught.

  Orlos stared up at the ceiling and sighed. It was fun being a spiridus, but it was lonely. There were so many demands on him—so many expectations. He wished there were others like him. Others who could share the responsibilities and understand what it was like.

  He closed his eyes, imagining what life had been like when Belavil and Landomere had been filled with spiridus.

  Somewhere someone screamed. Not someone. Many people. Orlos leapt from bed and ran into the hall. “Kael! Mother!” he shouted. There was no reply. He threw open the doors to his family members’ rooms, but the rooms were empty. “Where are you?” he called out, but his voice echoed through the empty house. They had to have gone outside. It made no sense, but it was the only thing that could have happened. Why hadn’t they awakened him? He ran downstairs and yanked open the front door.

  The darkness was complete. Only the vaguest pale images told him he was still on the highest terrace of Belavil. He gasped as a shadow within the darkness flitted past. There were many of them. Som
e floated close and a demonic face leered at him.

  Cries for help came from the park. Orlos ran to them, but as hard as he tried he could make no progress. The shadows pressed closer to him. He ran to the ruined temple, and water splashed around his feet.

  No, not water. Blood. There was blood everywhere. The old temple walls were covered in it. It washed up to his shins.

  The voices cried out from the earth below him. Save us, Orlos! Save us!

  Chapter Six

  Ayja hadn’t slept well. She’d awakened at every sound in the forest outside, imagining some living dead creature creeping toward their house. Despite the warmth of the summer night, she’d eventually closed her heavy wooden shutters, hoping the security of the solid wood might give her some peace.

  Now, with morning light peeking through the cracks, she gave up on any hope of sleep and got out of bed. Her arms still showed red welts where her own fire had burned her. She shuddered at the memory of the hideous face and snapping jaws and threw open a window, hoping the sunlight might drive away the memories.

  With bright sunlight flooding the room, she dressed herself and went downstairs. Cam was there, preparing breakfast.

  “Good morning, brightness,” he said. “Sleeping in today?”

  “Ugh,” she said.

  “I did most of your chores.” He nodded out the open windows, where morning sunlight illuminated the front yard. “We have to warn the neighbors of what you saw. The villagers as well.”

  “Mmmm. I know.”

  Cam shook his head at her. “Did you sleep at all?”

  “I was thinking of that thing and worrying there might be more.” She sat down at the table. Cam put some buttered bread and a mug of mint tea in front of her.

  “I’m certain there are more,” he said. “Perhaps not near, but there are more.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because a creature like that isn’t an accident. It also isn’t a creature of nature. Someone did something to create it.”

  “It could only be Cragor then,” Ayja said.

  “It’s the only thing I can think of.” He paused. “I want you to go to Mellor’s farm. Find out if they’ve found Nedden.”