Kritton, Alwyn worried, knew them, too. Beyond telling them to leave Alik behind to drown, the elf had done nothing sinister, at least, not that Alwyn could see, and that was the problem. As hard as Alwyn tried, he was never able to keep the elf in sight for more than a few seconds at a time, his ability to blend with shadows so fluid it defied any rational explanation.
He had never put much stock in the whole magical, mystical connection elves were supposed to have with nature. Mr. Yuimi hadn't seemed all that different from any other cobbler. The shoes he repaired didn't sprout vines or give the wearer special abilities, as Alwyn had found out once trying to leap from one tree to another. Even the major, who looked like every wild elf he'd ever heard about in children's tales, seemed like most officers he'd knownkinder, more intelligent, perhaps, but still determined to see the job done no matter what the cost. Now, Miss Tekoy seemed magical all right. And a witch, which made sense as he thought about it. But Kritton was different. Or maybe it was that all the other elves Alwyn knew seemed good at heart. Kritton had a dark heart; maybe that's what let him blend with the shadows so easily. Whatever the case, he wasn't about to let the elf do anything to Yimt.
The rest of the night wore on in a wet haze. Alwyn wasn't sure which he hated moremarching in the broiling sun or in the rain in the dark. He decided neither was pleasant, but at least you could drink the rain. He lengthened his stride a bit to try to stretch. Sometime in the night he'd developed a painful blister on the heel of his left foot and the skin under his arms felt like it had been rubbed raw. He was so wet he couldn't tell what was skin and what was clothnot surprising when he looked at the tips of his fingers and saw they were white and wrinkled.
He was still looking at his fingers when he bumped into someone and looked up in surprise. Yimt and N'bhat scowled at him and went back to whispering to each other, pointing to a dark, blurry shape to their front. The sun was just below the horizon and beginning to light the land around them. Three Section closed up and took a defensive posture, facing out in all directions of the compass. A quick head count confirmed there were still and only nine.
"We go back to river now. Flood go down, it safe again," N'bhat said, a slight quaver in his voice.
"And crawl through the mud?" Kritton asked. "I can see the path into the forest from here. We'll be through and into Luuguth Jor before nightfall if we go now. Listen to this river rat and it'll take us three days or more."
N'bhat said something in elfkynan and Kritton responded in Hynta. Yimt told them both to shut up.
"Time is not on our side. We need to get to the garrison as quick as we can, and that's through the forest."
Alwyn didn't need to look to imagine Kritton's satisfied smirk.
"Maybe you get there, or maybe you don't," N'bhat said. "Now that we here, I feel trees not safe no more. Go by river and be safe. Almost as fast."
"You aren't going to listen to this little elfkynan, are you, Arkhorn?" Kritton asked.
Alwyn tried to look over his shoulder, but the cage on his back hit Scolly when he tried to turn so he gave up and looked back out across the shrubs they had just walked through.
"That's Corporal, Private," Yimt said, his tone quiet and calm. "And I would strongly suggest you watch your mouth. One of these days, that temper of yours is going to land you in a heap of trouble."
There was a long silence. Alwyn traded looks with Scolly, but he couldn't tell if the soldier was even aware of the argument going on behind them.
"Right, we're going into the forest as planned," Yimt said at once. "Stay sharpdon't get caught looking too long in any one direction and keep your mouths shut."
Scolly looked confused. "Where are we going then?"
Three Section turned and Alwyn saw the forest for the first time. It really wasn't like the forests back home. Everything here was greener and leafier. The path that Kritton could see was barely visible to Alwyn, but it looked wide enough for a cart, though he couldn't imagine who would live out here that had one.
He pointed toward the trees. "See, the forest, there's a path through it."
Scolly squinted. "What, that grove of trees?"
Yimt banged the side of his shatterbow with the flat of his fist. "Just follow us."
"But where are we going? In them trees? I don't like trees." There was genuine fear in his voice.
"What do you mean you don't like trees?" Yimt asked, taking a step toward the soldier. "They're just trees. Kritton," he said, whipping around to look at the elf, "have you been putting thoughts in his head?"
Kritton sneered. "As if they would stay. Besides, it was the elfkynan that said the trees weren't safe, not me." After a moment, he hissed between his teeth and raised his hands above his head. He stood like that for several seconds, then closed his eyes and began to chant in elvish.
"What's this about then?" Yimt asked, turning to N'bhat, who shook his head.
Kritton did this for several seconds, then suddenly stopped, lowering his hands and opening his eyes. "The trees are friendly."
"How do you know?" Scolly asked.
Kritton smiled, and it gave Alwyn no joy at all to see it. "I asked them. The trees will not hurt you."
Scolly scratched his head. "You sure?"
Kritton put a hand over his heart. "Completely. You have nothing to fear from the trees."
This appeared to satisfy Scolly, who began walking toward the forest. Yimt snorted and motioned for the rest of them to get moving. He kept looking at Kritton, but the elf did nothing to provoke him, and after a minute Yimt moved back to the front of the patrol.
Within a hundred paces of the forest the rain began to slacken. By the time they reached the edge of the trees, the rain had stopped and the sun was stretching out the first rays of light across the land. Curses sounded from several of the soldiers, but Yimt quickly quieted them again and just like that they stepped out of the light and back into darkness.
With each step deeper into the forest, the light of the sun grew dimmer, as if night was already descending again. Alwyn knew it was due to the thick canopy of leaves high overhead, but it still sent a tiny shiver down his back. Quppy didn't seem to like this choice of route either, growling and fussing in his cage and beating his wings against the wooden bars. Alwyn had to finally reach around and rap a hand against the cage to get the sreex to quiet down, but even then Quppy still growled.
Following Yimt's advice, Alwyn kept his head on a swivel, looking to both sides of the path and even glancing over his shoulder occasionally to check that their number remained constant.
The sreex started beating his wings against the cage again. Yimt turned and pointed at Alwyn to quiet the bird.
"Darn it all, Quppy, you're going to get us both in trouble," he whispered, stopping and shrugging the straps that held the cage to his back off his shoulders. Yimt motioned for a halt. Everyone stopped where they were while Alwyn tried to calm the sreex down.
"I'd be angry, too, if I was caged up all the time. You want a drink?" he asked, grabbing his canteen and pouring a bit of water into his hand and holding it to the bars. "No? Here, how about a chunk of brick," Alwyn said, pulling out of his small pack a gray block of baked flour that the Imperial Army insisted was a biscuit.
Quppy ignored it, going completely still. His body looked like something carved out of wood. Not a blink, not even the twitch of a whisker.
Water mixed with the brick in Alwyn's hand and a gray sludge slowly seeped through his fingers. It suddenly felt cold, as if he'd dipped his hand in a fast-running stream. He shivered and realized the temperature had actually dropped.
A leaf fluttered down and landed in his palm. It was shriveled, the edges blackened by frost.
THIRTY-FIVE
Mewling cries burst forth all around the soldiers as rakkes charged out of the forest.
It was so sudden Alwyn didn't have time to be scared. He pulled the cork from the end of his musket and ripped the oilcloth from the lock, cocked the hammer back, an
d fired in one continuous motion. To his amazement the musket worked, the butt slamming reassuringly against his shoulder. A thick cloud of smoke and sparks blossomed in front of him as the musket ball flew forty yards and straight into the stomach of a rakke. He had no time to see if the creature got back up as he scrambled to reload. Other muskets fired and shouts rose from up ahead. The distinct sound of a double roar and detonations signaled Yimt had fired his shatterbow.
"Close up! Close up!"
Inkermon ran past him toward the front, his shako gone, his eyes wild. "The end is here! The end is here!"
Alwyn bit into a cartridge and poured the powder down the muzzle, almost stabbing himself on the bayonet attached at the end of the barrel. Teeter walked up calmly to stand beside him, his musket already reloaded.
"Wait until they're close; too many trees out there."
Alwyn looked up and saw what Teeter meant. Rakkes were screaming and calling to each other from behind the cover of trunks. The first volley had obviously surprised them. Alwyn finished ramming the new ball home and brought his musket up to his shoulder again.
"What are they doing?" he asked, swinging his musket back and forth trying to get a bead on one of the creatures. Like the rakke he and Yimt had killed back at camp, these wore the rudiments of clothes. Unlike the first rakke, however, they also appeared to be carrying clubs. Instead of rushing forward, they started roaring and banging their clubs against the sides of the trees, creating a terrible noise and shaking loose a shower of wet leaves that began falling all around them.
Buuko, Alik, and Scolly came jogging up the path to stand near them. Alik was clutching his stick in both hands and looking all around him. He was clearly terrified, and Alwyn couldn't blame him. It'd be hard for anyone to feel brave wearing just one sock and having a stick for a weapon.
"Why'd they stop?" Alik asked, jumping as another rakke screamed and Scolly fired at it. There was a loud crack and a burst of bark and splinters from a tree trunk. The rakke roared and ran a few steps forward, baring its fangs.
"We showed them who was boss, didn't we?" Buuko said, his voice triumphant as he aimed and shot the rakke in the mouth. The back of the creature's head disintegrated and it tumbled to the ground and lay still. "You should have stayed extinct, you dumb buggers!"
"Get your arses up here, now!" Yimt shouted at them, brandishing his shatterbow and waving them forward. The rest of the patrol, including N'bhat, was grouped around the dwarf another thirty yards up the path.
Alwyn took his hand off the trigger and reached down to grab Quppy's cage. Leaves were falling so thickly that it was getting difficult to see what the rakkes were doing. He stopped halfway, his hand hovering just above the cage. From the corner of his eye he caught a movement. He looked up. Something dark and fast slipped behind a tree.
It wasn't a rakke.
"Hurry up, Alwyn, we've got to go!" Alik said, tugging at his arm as the others began walking quickly up the path. "Hurry" There was a swish and thunk and then silence.
Alwyn looked up in alarm. Alik stared at him, his eyes wide open in surprise. A thin, black arrow jutted from his neck. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times and then he was falling. Alwyn reached out to grab him as more arrows sliced through the air. Buuko screamed. A musket fired, and then another. Something flew by Alwyn's face. He stumbled and fell over Quppy's cage, shattering the wood as the sreex howled and flapped its wings. Alik's body fell on top of him, momentarily pinning him to the ground.
More screams, the sound of running feet, leaves falling everywhere, and only the occasional musket firing. Alwyn pushed furiously to lift Alik's body out of the way and get to his musket. He saw another soldier fall, his legs twitching as he lay on the ground, a black arrow protruding from his back, but he couldn't tell who it was.
He finally lifted Alik out of the way and was reaching for his musket when a rakke slammed it down with a large wooden club, smashing his weapon to pieces. Alwyn yelled and rolled the other way as the club came down again where he had just been. He got up to his hands and knees, scrambling up the path toward the sound of shouting. If he could just make it to Yimt he'd be all right. He saw Buuko's body and musket and lunged for the weapon, swinging around and pointing it at the rakke lumbering toward him. He squeezed the trigger and prayed that it was loaded.
The musket bucked in his hands and the rakke went down without a sound, the club tumbling from its grasp.
Two more rakkes loomed out of the forest, cutting off his route to Yimt and the rest of the patrol. They seemed to sense that the musket was unloaded and moved toward him, their white eyes bulging.
At that moment Kritton appeared, a musket in one hand and a blade in the other.
"Shoot them!" Alwyn shouted, pointing at the rakkes.
The creatures paused and turned. Kritton stood still, looking back at Alwyn. One of the rakkes made to move toward the elf and Kritton simply turned and ran.
Mind-numbing fear turned to rage in an instant. "You coward!" Alwyn screamed, startling the rakkes just a few yards away. The rakkes roared and turned back to Alwyn. It was only after Kritton had vanished that Alwyn realized the blade in his hand had been a drukar.
Yimt. It couldn't have hurt more if he'd been shot.
Nothing mattered anymore. Alwyn rose to his feet, screaming and lunging at the nearest rakke, driving the bayonet deep into its chest. The creature collapsed, tearing the musket from his hands as it died. Alwyn looked at his bare hands. He was left facing a rakke with nothing but absolute anguish. With no reason to care, he jumped forward, placed a foot on the dying rakke's chest, grabbed hold of his musket and heaved. It came free with a terrible scraping sound of metal on bone. He pointed it at the second rakke and saw that the bayonet was twisted. With no time to reload, he spun the musket around and grabbed it by the muzzle to swing like a club.
The second rakke paused and turned to look over its shoulder. Alwyn followed its gaze, expecting to see a gloating Kritton.
An elf stood in the space between two trees. Its face was gray and creased like wind-scoured rock. At first, Alwyn thought it was missing its left ear tip, but then he saw that it was therejust pitch black, like the two wet black eyes that stared unblinking at him, drawing the very warmth from his body.
Alwyn shuddered when he realized it had no eyelids. The orbs were forever open, forever seeing.
Its every feature was twisted, as if a giant's hands had pulled it apart and then reassembled the tattered shreds. It wore an overlapping garment of blackened leaves and oily fur held in place by thin, steel-colored vines wrapped tight around its limbs. Bony hands with fingers like black spider legs held a great curving longbow that looked impossibly to be made of iron.
The elf drew back the bow, its eyes never straying from Alwyn's. A noise like steel on slate pierced the forest as the bow was drawn to its limit, a thin, black arrow notched in place. It turned its head slightly and sighted down the shaft of the arrow.
Alwyn lurched forward. There was a metallic twang, the rush of torn air, and the shattering impact of the arrow hitting the stock of the musket. The musket flew from Alwyn's numb hands as something bitterly cold jabbed him in the chest. He stumbled and fell to his knees. Alwyn reached up with one hand and grabbed the section of arrow that now protruded from his body. It was like trying to hold fire. He began shivering violently. His hand fell away, a strip of skin tearing off as it did so, but he could no longer feel pain.
The rakke sensed its moment and rushed forward, knocking Alwyn to his back. The forest canopy flickered and swayed. Leaves tumbled down like snowflakes, revealing one side then the other; lightdark, lightdark.
The rakke stood above him and raised its club over its head. Alwyn tried to get to his feet, but his strength was gone. He was so cold.
The rakke lifted its head and screamed into the air. It was a hideous, triumphant sound. It lowered its head and the club began to fall when something came in from the side of Alwyn's vision.
The rakke fell apart, cloven in two. A shadow stood over it, a long sword held easily in its hands. A cloak of midnight black shrouded it so completely that Alwyn had a difficult time keeping it in focus, but he knew his savior all the same.
"Thanks, Meri," Alwyn murmured, closing his eyes and letting the cold take him.
THIRTY-SIX
Konowa lurched in the saddle from a blow he couldn't see. He grabbed his chest and his hand closed around the leather pouch.
"Something's happened."
The Prince turned slightly and nudged his horse around a large mud puddle, an act of little value, as mud lay everywhere. The river had already receded to its preflood level, but the ground around it was a sopping mess, and the rain still fell, although not as hard as before. "The open rebellion of northern Elfkyna would certainly qualify, yes, but it's not exactly news, is it, as Rallie's editor sent her the message hours ago?"
"Yes, sir, of course. I was just taking it all in," he said, silently cursing himself for being such a fool. A chill crept over his body despite the warm rain. He looked back over his shoulder at the regiment snaked out behind them and shook his head. "We'll need to get to Luuguth Jor as quickly as possible, but this mud is going to slow us down."
"Then fix it," the Prince said.
"Fix it, sir? I didn't bring any paving stones with me."
The Prince frowned and stood in his stirrups, pulling a highly polished brass telescope from a leather holder strapped to his saddle. The royal cipher was emblazoned on the main tube in skillfully inlaid onyx and ivory and tiny rubies. He opened it to its full length and held it up to his eye like a captain at sea. Perhaps the river beside them was giving him delusions of nautical grandeur.
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