Khoury exchanged a parental look with Archer and tried his most reasonable tone. “Bears aren’t allowed in cities, Cara. They’re considered dangerous. The guards would kill him.”
She felt her lip jut out as she clamped her teeth together trying to be brave, knowing she couldn’t win this fight.
Khoury leaned closer, his face gentle. “He wouldn’t be safe there. Besides, you’ll have us.” He reached out a calloused finger to wipe a tear off her cheek.
In the end, she knew this wasn’t a fight she could win. They camped early for the night. Cara sat apart from the others holding Gar’s head in her lap. She leaned her forehead on his between the black eyes that always looked at her with love. Reaching along the connection she shared with him, she tried to explain that he shouldn’t follow, couldn’t follow. He rumbled his unhappiness and an image of a woman in pale armor breezed through her mind. Cara had never seen the woman before and had no idea what Gar meant by it. She tried again, picturing him free to do what he pleased. He responded with the warrior woman again, her armor shining like a silver sun.
Finally, Cara decided she needed to give him a job. She pictured Maura in her mind. Gar whined in recognition. Then she told Gar to find her. He had to find Maura. Gar seemed to understand though Cara felt his reluctance to leave her. She only hoped Seal Bay had arrangements for sledge bears. Surely Maura would recognize him and take him in. With that settled, Cara wrapped her arms around Gar’s neck and buried her face in his coat for a long time, memorizing the musty smell of him. When she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, she released him.
“You should go now,” she whispered. “But don’t forget me.” She scrubbed behind his scarred ear like a lap dog. He leaned into her with affection, then snuffled her face and ambled off. Cara laid down in her blankets, her back to the others and cried until she had no more tears left.
GAR’S ABSENCE SLICED a hole in Cara’s world. She couldn’t remember a time without him. When their entourage slogged through the wilderness like a funeral procession, the bear’s mind had been a haven untouched by their sorrow. But now she had nowhere to hide.
Without Ealea, Bradan was lost, a scowling shadow of his former self. His somber mood infected Archer despite Cara’s assurance that her last view of Maura was on a sledge disappearing into the woods. And though Khoury remained his usual reserved self, it didn’t relieve Cara’s loneliness. He and Archer slipped into well-worn patterns of mercenary efficiency and had little need for words. They made sure everyone’s needs were met, but Cara remained at the edge of the camaraderie. Or perhaps she was the center around which they all spun. Either way, there was a gulf between her and the men. Intuition told her they stayed out of duty or perhaps pity. Certainly not affection.
The first day without Gar was endless, and her feet tingled and ached even during the rests. They stopped for the night in a glade shadowed by trees so tall that the air cooled quickly with the setting sun. Cara’s whole body ached and the unforgiving ground only made it worse. She did her best to relax, listening to the snapping fire and Archer’s fitful snores. Bradan had slipped off again into the dark, and Khoury sat watch near the edge of the firelight behind her.
She could feel the captain’s eyes on her. She had caught him watching her during the day with an odd intensity to his sternness. Still, he’d barely said three words to her. She shifted, seeking some comfort, but she was cold even wrapped in her cloak. She missed Gar’s thick fur and affectionate mind. Curling into a ball, she drew her arms tightly around herself.
There was a soft footfall behind her. “Cold?” Khoury’s low whisper was nevertheless loud and much too close in the silent night.
She sat up quickly, discomfited by how he stood darkly over her. “A bit,” she admitted. “How funny. All those years, I never really felt the cold. Now I can’t get warm.”
“Here, this might help.” He swept the cloak from his shoulders and stooped to give it to her.
“No, you need that,” she deferred, remembering vividly another day he’d offered her his cloak.
“Fine, we’ll share.” Before she could refuse, he sat down, wrapped them both in the voluminous fabric, and pulled her close with a casual arm. She stiffened against him, embarrassed by his nearness. But as the moments lengthened and he stared into the fire saying nothing, she relaxed, letting his warmth drive away the cold.
A distant branch snapped, and her head jerked up. The captain pierced the darkness with narrowed eyes that swept the dark all around the camp until his warm breath brushed her forehead. She had memorized the hard angles and lines of scar on his now-familiar face. His gaze dropped to hers, surprised at her nearness.
A tingling heat, equal parts embarrassment and excitement, swept down her neck and across her chest. Her breath came shallow and fast as she remembered the river and wondered if he ever thought of that cold, wet embrace. The memory of his lips on hers made her dizzy, like she was falling toward him on a heady tide. Unconsciously his head tilted, their breath mingled drawing her closer. The mere inch between them was charged with a gravity that begged her to close it.
Then Archer coughed. The sound startled her and snapped the attraction between them like a too-tight bowstring. Khoury sat back, opening a chasm between them filled with cool regret. He turned his gaze back to the fire. And said nothing.
His silence was infuriating. Cara was dying to know what he thought—about the river, about that kiss, about the laughing woman. With nerves drawn tight and quivering, she finally blurted out, “Who is she?”
“She?” His eyes went sharp, suddenly guarded.
“The one you were thinking of when you…when we…”
Recognition flashed in his eyes. He knew who she meant. “No one you need to worry about.”
That didn’t really answer her question but his tone’s clipped finality made her hesitate. She chewing her lower lip anxiously. “Do you love her?” she finally ventured, braving his anger.
The captain’s jaw clenched and unclenched, but he remained silent.
“Do you?” she pressed.
“Why?” His cobalt eyes bored into her, full of anger and something indefinable. “What does it matter?”
Taken aback by his intensity, Cara turned away to hide the truth that announced itself in the heat from her cheeks. “I just wondered, you know, if that was what it felt like.” The lie slipped easily from her lips and for a moment, he simply stared at her. Cara peeked at him sideways and watched pity march across his features, softening him until he regarded her once more as a foundling child, not as a woman.
“Yes,” he finally said with a soft snort of laughter that surprised her. His eyes dropped to his hand that smoothed the rough wool over his thigh. “That’s what love feels like.” His words were rough as if they were difficult to say. Disappointment twisted Cara’s heart as the chasm between them widened.
So, he has a love of his own. A Maura who waits patiently for his return in some southern city. And yet here he was standing between her and Sidonius.
A memory of blood-stained snow doused her with cold reality. If she cared for him at all, she’d send him away. And if the captain left, Archer would too. And then Bradan would return to his Clan, leaving her all alone at Father’s mercy. The thought frightened her so much she couldn’t breathe.
But if the men stayed, none of them were safe. Father would find them and make good on his promise to make her watch them die.
The more Cara thought about it, the more sure she was that she would see the Keep again. He’d punish her, of course, but then life would go back to what it was before. As horrible as that would be to face alone, it was better than watching Khoury turn to dust.
“Captain, you should leave,” she said.
“What?” He stared in surprise.
“Go home.” She tried to sound firm despite the tears that crept up the back of her throat. “You should go home.” She pushed his arm from her shoulder.
“I promised to help yo
u.”
“I know but I want you to…I mean you should…go back…to her.” And Archer should return to Maury.
“Cara—”
“No, now. Before Sidonius kills you, too.” As the last words rushed out on her breaking voice, she was sorry she’d said them. Naming her fear only made it more real.
The captain’s face shuttered closed like windows against a storm. “I can’t,” he said.
“I’ll be okay,” she lied, hoping her face didn’t show how frightened she was. “I’m sure I can find somewhere he won’t—”
“She’s dead.”
Dead. The word dropped between them with all the harsh finality of a crushed sled. Her first instinct was to touch him, soothe his pain. But there was no healing this wound. She was shocked how little she knew about the man next to her.
“Now get some sleep,” he said, getting up and leaving the cloak draped around her shoulders. He moved to put new branches on the fire and turned the embers. Squatting close to its warmth, he refused to even look at her.
She felt dismissed. But really, what more needed to be said? She snuggled her nose into his cloak, taking comfort from his scent until sleep claimed her.
The next day consisted of more walking and all too-short rests in the mud for it had started to rain as well. She missed Gar. She missed the peace of her simple days in Bear Clan’s kitchens, and she even entertained a brief longing for the quiet inertia of the Keep. She couldn’t remember ever being so tired. She barely noticed when the hills changed to grassy lowlands. Exhausted, she felt numb, unable to focus on anything beyond the next step. She didn’t notice the tall grass or the lack of trees or even the gray skies that hovered threateningly over the meadow.
Suddenly, she was standing in slick mud surprised by the swollen river that flowed across her path. Her feet stopped at the water’s edge without her bidding them to, but her eyes continued on to find a wall of dark towering trees rising from the far side of the glassy water. Their leafy majesty stirred something inside her.
Far different from the pine forests of the Northlands, the underbrush here was thick and dark, the trees wide-boled and taller than any Cara had yet seen. Their bark was purple-black and clung in roughened slabs to the straight trunks that drew her eyes upward. At the very top along the canopy, green leaves as large as platters splayed out, veined in purple and black. A heavy floral scent clung to the damp air as the heavy branches swayed in the breeze, revealing glimpses of dagger-like spikes. But there was a deeper difference here. A haunting familiarity that chilled Cara’s bones even as it warmed her with an unexpected sense of homecoming.
The men knelt down to fill the waterskins, eyeing the forest with suspicion. Cara herself couldn’t keep her eyes from returning to the woods. But it wasn’t suspicion she felt, it was more like nostalgia.
But how can that be?
She bent down to slurp cool water from her cupped hand as Bradan argued with the captain behind her.
“I thought you said we wouldn’t end up here,” Bradan whispered angrily.
“Just bad luck,” Khoury said. “We’ll swing east for a bit.”
“We can follow the river and then climb to that ridge up there,” Archer said pointing to where the river curved out of sight at the foot of a hill sparsely covered with more familiar kinds of trees. “With the hill and the river between us and the blackthorns, we should be fine.”
“What’s the problem?” Cara asked.
“Foresthaven.” Bradan gestured at the purple forest as if that explained anything.
“We’ll be fine. The Huntresses won’t bother us this side of the river,” Khoury said.
“You don’t know that,” Bradan began.
“I doubt they’ll bother to step outside their thorny hideaway for a couple of ragged travelers.”
“We can’t risk it,” Bradan whispered, trying to avoid Cara’s gaze. “It’s not safe.”
“Nowhere is safe,” Khoury snapped. “For any of us. We need to get her to Iolair before Sidonius finds us.”
They all fell silent at the captain’s outburst. But Bradan wasn’t done. “You know what they’ll do to us,” he said in the hushed tones of a threat, “if they catch us.”
Cara’s eyes slid to Khoury. Immoveable as stone, he stared at the older man, his jaw set angrily. “They won’t. We follow the ridge.” The two men stared at each other in a duel of wills, and in the end, it was Bradan who stalked away.
“What will they do to us?” Cara whispered to Archer, watching Khoury walk toward the bend in the river, surveying the terrain.
“Don’t worry. They won’t do anything to you.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Cara wanted to ask Bradan what he knew about the strange forest, but when she sat down near him her attention was snagged by the wind whistling through the leaves. It sounded like voices, women’s voices. She listened in a daze as the forest whispered to her. Time ceased to have meaning.
When Khoury signaled for them to move on, it had started raining again in earnest. The rain came down by the bucketful, soaking Cara’s hair and weighing down her skirts and the cloak she wore.
At least it’s not cold, she thought sullenly. The temperatures had mellowed since they left Gar behind. She wondered briefly what he was doing at that moment. Then her foot hit a tight clump of meadow grass and she stumbled, bringing her mind back to the terrain.
They followed the flight of the rain-driven river for a while and then, as it veered away into a gully between the strange purple-black forest and the hillside, they began to climb. The rain worsened, sluicing down her face as well as the steep slope. She climbed almost on all fours, grabbing brush and trees to keep from falling, feet slipping on wet leaves and mud. Cara was grateful when the terrain evened out. She paused to look around and was surprised at how high up they had gotten. Their path now cut across the slope. Her skirts were muddy to her hips and her arms to the elbows.
It felt like hours before Khoury called a halt. He stopped at a small rocky outcropping just barely large enough for the four of them to wedge themselves in between stone and tree to rest.
The sapling behind her pressed uncomfortably into her back as she wrung a torrent of water from her heavy skirts. Across the gully, Foresthaven still beckoned, pulling her eyes to it. A little further on, the stream split sending an overflow into the dark trees, disappearing from sight. Cara thought she’d imagined the spikes on the trees, but they were real. Even high up, large forbidding daggers adorned every cleaving of new growth, angry barbed thorns of black and deepest purple, many of them as long as her arm. The forest was eerie and dark, and the scent of damp earth was strong.
Cara’s eyes drifted shut as the haunting mix of greening trees and pungent undergrowth teased her nose. The soft susurration of the wind and rain whispered to her like voices of the past, urgent and secretive. The rhythmic ebb and flow rocking her weary mind, and then…
…she crept through the forest on silent feet, coming to a glade of large flat stones. The rain was light beneath the canopy though the sound of water striking the leaves above drowned out most of the forest noises. Settling cross-legged on a dry granite perch beneath a large branch, she took the whetstone from her belt pouch, unsheathed her sword and began to polish the edge with care, humming a simple tune in time to the rhythmic swish of stone on metal.
Bradan’s grip on her shoulder woke Cara from her dreaming.
“Time to move on.” His eyes fixed curiously on her.
She yawned, trying to clear the drowsiness. “Already?”
“What were you singing? I didn’t recognize it.” He helped her to her feet as Khoury started to climb.
Cara shrugged as she watched Archer climb out next. She didn’t remember singing anything. The rain had softened though the clouds still threatened a further downpour. Cara climbed out next with Bradan behind her lending a supporting arm.
Still groggy, she caught her skirts on a protruding branch, and before she knew what
was happening she lost her footing and tumbled down the wet slope. Rolling and sliding, she slammed into a tree, knocking the breath from her lungs as her body wrapped around its thick trunk. Up the hill, the others were out of sight and calling to her, but she couldn’t answer. She gripped some small vines and tried to scramble up the slope, but the ground gave beneath her and she slid down further.
She was almost to the bottom when her forehead glanced off a rough-barked trunk, snapping her head back. The final ten feet were a sharp, blind drop into the shock of cold fast-moving water. Panicked, she flailed her arms and legs against the weight of her voluminous clothes, but within moments darkness closed over her mind…
…Tasting lake water, she cursed her panic and kicked out strongly for the surface. For a moment, she had actually forgotten how to swim. Mother’s love, what nonsense. How she had even fallen in was a mystery, but she was grateful at least no one had seen it. She crawled out onto the flat rocks, angrily squeezing the water from her hair. She stood for a moment, ashamed by her sudden clumsiness. She felt disoriented, like a bent old woman who forgot her purpose the moment after she’d settled on it. She shook the water from herself as best she could and started for home.
Cara woke coughing to a worm’s eye view of old brown leaves and protruding roots. She lay on her belly, her mouth tasting of dirty water. Still dazed, she shoved to her feet and looked down at the muddy edge of a small stream surrounded by the strange thorn trees. The deeply shadowed forest was eerie, and she heard ghostly murmurings wafting through the branches. She stood and staggered with the weight of her sodden clothes, eager to find Khoury.
A crash of breaking branches startled her. Fear pounded in her veins as the ghostly whispers rose in agitated alarm driving her to thoughtless action. Feeling trapped, she unclasped the heavy cloak and let it fall to the ground as she fled into the brush. Whatever she’d heard thundered after her. Her mind conjured up creatures like the hunting cat of her dreams, only this time she was no hunter. Fear muddled her already scattered thoughts as the forest’s whispering spirits nipped at her heels. Then she tripped and landed hard on her knees just as her name echoed off the trees.
Quest of the Dreamwalker (The Corthan Legacy Book 1) Page 16