“They aren't to be trusted,” Guy said. He drew closer, grabbed Kyp by the collar and pulled him away. “They aren’t people.”
Flynn was swaying at his feet, looking down at the Emissary from the table. Kyp pulled away and ran back to the man, pushing his way through the circle of people. “If you all won't help him, then I’ll—”
Kyp was yanked from his feet and slammed to the ground by some force. His jaw hit the floor of the tavern. The tavern’s noise went silent and started to spin to Kyp. He looked around, seeing everyone’s eyes on the front door. He groggily looked up to see another man in a similar coat to the one the man on the ground had on, yet he was taller and twice as wide. There was a look to him that made Kyp feel a chill in his blood.
“Stay away aero-rat. He’s mine.” In one hand was another witchwood sword. This one had a thick crust of black iron. In the other, he held the leash of a hound. It was a thickly-muscled one, with short black fur and a muzzle that was bone white, its eyes a pale blue that were almost white, and it snarled when Kyp looked at it.
“Hush Lash,” the man said, jerking the leash hard. The hound heeled, yet stared at Kyp with an intensity that unnerved the youth.
“Sorry, your eminence. The boy doesn’t know much about—”
The man in black glared at Flynn as he tried to stand in front of Kyp. He said nothing, he simply looked at Flynn. The next moment, Flynn was on the ground, clutching at his neck. The man in black looked around the room before walking towards the man on the ground.
Kyp stood up, swaying a bit from the fall. He stood between the man with the hound and the unconscious one. “No.”
“Out of my way!” the man in black screamed.
Kyp felt a surge of force grab at him. And, in that instant, he felt something inside him push back. He pushed with all his will against the man with the hound.
The man with hound changed his sneering face towards Kyp. “What is this? The little areo-rat has more to him?”
Kyp watched as the man let go of the leash and let the hound surge forward. The hound’s jaws opened wide, and Kyp felt certain he would feel them clamp around his throat. He heard a crunch, opened his eyes to see Guy’s arm held in the hound’s jaws.
“Run Kyp!” The drunk linesman said. He pulled at the hound as the hound tore at Guy’s arm. Blood and flesh flew from the hound as it twisted its thick head back and forth. Guy screamed, “Run.”
Kyp turned to run, saw Flynn helping the man on the floor up. The man with the witchwood sword shouted and flung his hands out. At that moment, there was a shout.
“Tellish. Stop!”
Kyp saw an older man walk in, without arms. His sleeves were pinned to his shoulder. But he too wore the same kind of coat and clothing as the other two. This one had a sash of yellow around his waist. “What are you doing, you fool?”
“They are stopping me from—”
“Stop threatening the people,” the armless man said. He turned to the common room, which by now was alive with whispers and murmurs. “My friends, I am sorry. My Cerberi is a bit rough with how he does things.” The armless man whistled and the hound pulled away. Guy cradled the stump of his right arm and looked up, crying.
Flynn grabbed Kyp. “We need to go! Now,” he hissed.
“But Guy—”
“Can't do anything for him now. Come with me.”
CHAPTER SIX
She looked at Toth for another few moments. “You know what I need?”
“Besides some lessons on grace, speech and eloquence?” he asked from his position on the rug.
“I thought you were asleep?”
“I… nap,” Toth said before getting up and slinking over to her. He rubbed his head over her knee.
She absentminded scratched at his head. “I need to get some kind of lock pick or something. Maybe I can seduce the guards?”
“I think that would be hard, all of them are eunuchs,” Toth said. “My species can sense it.”
“Huh?”
“It is something my species can do, we have—”
“I don't want to hear what you and your species can do, thank you. Especially when it comes to how you can tell if a man his giblets.”
He gave her the equivalent of a shrug and continued to rub his head against her leg. She continued to scratch a bit lower until he was on his back and she was scratching his belly.
“Come on Toth, this is the reason I bring you along. You must have some idea how to—”
“Milady Sarena,” Toth said with a small bow of his head. It looked comical since he was already on his back. “You must understand. I am a simple creature. You think I would have some kind of plan to get us out of here?”
“You want your cream and fish? And besides, Benny probably misses both of us.”
“He does, poor thing.” Toth then rolled up to his feet and stalked over to the door. He gave it a sniff here and there, mostly at the hinges. “You know the problem with working with witchwood?”
“It is incredible light, yet stronger than steel?”
“Besides that, I swear you are more like a kid than a woman.”
Serena thought again about kicking him. Aiming it such a way he would fly out the window and punch through the lattice.
Toth turned to look at Sarena. “While I cannot fly, my species can glide and has been known to survive from a great height of a fall,” he said with a feline grin.
“What is your idea?” She was starting to truly tire of Toth and his condescending attitudes. There were times she wondered why she kept him around.
Because like it or not, Benny trusts and talks to him, not you. She sighed, knowing her ship, her own ship, liked the little furball more than herself.
“If you were to apply enough pressure to the hinges, the wood around them is not actual witchwood. It is a strange blend of the two. It isn't as strong as witchwood, and you would only have to break the hinges to get out.
“And how am I supposed to do that?”
Toth turned from her, his face turned up. “I have given you the clues you need. You are a resourceful woman. Figure it out on your own.”
Serena felt the need to strangle Toth rise up. He then gave her a look, rolling onto his back and letting out a pitiful near human-like yowl. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are cheating.”
He didn’t say anything, but his smile told her he knew.
She turned to sit back down and look at the fire. She was glad she at least had the fire. It was a little cold, and she didn’t want to freeze. She wondered when Brendan would come and ask for her hand again. “Maybe I should just do it. I mean, how bad could it be to stay here?”
There was a sudden whistling around the windows. She stood up and walked towards the latticed shutters, looking out onto the bent forest that was a wooden sea. Tree trucks bent and twisted around each other in frozen dark brown waves. They looked like ripples in a large brown sea. Which it was, she thought to herself. Sarena had mentioned it once to Lightman. Remembering it made her think of the large woodworm thing. It caused her to shiver with horror. She had seen more than one monstrous tree worm emerge from holes and hollows in the tree sea. Hell, she had fought one last time she was here with Lightman. The thought of the name caused her to clench her jaw. Stop, not now. You can ponder revenge later.
She saw the great sails of the witchwood ships slipping along the waves and ripples of the trees, five different sails marked the various people in the race for who knew what. Then she looked a bit closer at the skiing barges. All of them had shields out, hung along the sides. Below each of the crests of the clans were men with their witchwood staves and armor of laminated wood.
“This isn’t good, Toth.”
“What isn’t?” He leapt up to the sill of the window and looked through as well. He gave a sniff. “You had better get out of here, and soon.”
She cast about for something, anything that could help her. Her eyes fell on the remains of supper. A wild idea sprang to mind. Saren
a hurried to the platter of polished wood and started to tear at the remains of the fowl carcass. Within a few moments, and with some effort, she had the leg pulled off and cleared of gristle. She snapped it in two with the help of her knee and had a jagged edge of bone.
“Guard! Guard! I need your help,” she shouted. She stood up and draped herself over the “fainting” couch while the guard unlocked the door.
“Lady Winter, are you well?” The young guard asked, moving closer.
Sarena made a sick groaning noise, drawing the guard closer. He leaned over her, his foul breath tickled her nose and threatened to bring up her supper. “Shall I get the physician?”
She sprang forward like a viper. Grabbing his head and holding the bone shard to his throat. “No, I’ll be fine. Simply help me out of here. Please.” She grinned as the boy’s eyes grew wide when she grabbed him.
“I-I-I can’t. I’m to—”
She pressed the shard harder against his neck. “I could simply kill you and run.”
He doesn’t think you will, Toth said in her head.
She pricked his neck, causing him to pull back. She used the momentum to heave herself to her feet. She spun around him, pressing the bone to the base of his neck. “Move forward, like a good little peon.”
Knowing he was defeated, he started to move forward. She knew Toth followed behind the two of them. When they left the room, she caught sight of sails again. They were closer, looking to land at Brenden’s front gate. “What is going on? Who are those men? Is there some battle coming?”
The guard laughed.
Sarena grabbed his small dirk, dropping the bone shard and pressing the dirk to his back. The man yelped a little and then scurried forward to keep off of the point. “I’m sorry miss, I thought you’d know. You are to be wedded off to the one who competes the fastest.”
“I’m a prize?” Serena shouted at the man.
“Yes, milady. You are to be a fine prize for—”
Serena couldn’t take it anymore and hit the guard in the back of the head with the pommel of the dirk. He went down hard, crumpling in on himself. Toth prowled in front of her, sniffing at the unconscious guard. “That was a bit much, wasn’t it Sarena? He could be hurt.”
“And you could tell that in a moment, couldn't you?”
Toth didn’t say anything, just strode over the guard like he wasn’t there. “I think you are missing the chance to escape.”
“Uh-huh,” she said to her companion. She leaned down to pick up the feline creature and moved a bit faster, trying to get through the hallway.
There were shouts and the ringing of wood on wood. Being at the top of the tower did afford her one thing. She could look down into the square where the fighting was and watch as several squads of men swirled around, trying to get advantage on the others. She wondered if they were used to the altitude. She remembered swirling around to show the king her dress in full and felt so giddy she almost fainted.
“There are more guards coming, I suggest we take the back stairway and get out of her as soon as—”
“Shut it, Toth. I’m thinking.”
Toth’s center legs tightened around Sarena’s shoulders and she felt claws dig into her shoulder. “Really?” She asked, looking at the Lasha.
“I’m sorry, milady, am I making it difficult to think?” Toth asked. She swore if he had a human face Toth would have stuck out his tongue,
She snarled at the creature and then plucked up the guard’s helm and laminar armor. She tested it and then quickly divested the guard of his clothes. The hard part was finding a place to put him.
“Could toss him over the edge.”
“Then, they would know I’m gone, and that would cause chaos. Plus, I don't want to kill this man,” Sarena said, pulling on the rather stinky trousers and tunic. She truly missed Benny at the moment and hoped she would be able to bathe. For at least a day.
“Why do you have such strange fantasies of bathing in, water?” Toth asked.
“Save it puss.”
“You know I hate—”
Before Toth could keep going, she started to walk down the long spiral staircase, slowly as she had seen the guards do, holding the polearm with ease. It was a witchwood weapon, and it was very light in her hands. With her free hand, she held Toth to her chest.
“I always thought that if you couldn’t wield witchwood, it was very heavy?” Toth asked.
“Are you asking me if you are worthy of it?”
“Aren't we supposed to be escaping?” Toth asked from his position at her breasts.
Serena shook her head and started to descend down the stairs a bit faster. It did feel good to have trousers again instead of that damn dress, she thought with a sigh of relief.
Once she was outside of the tower proper, she thought she was free. Then, another guard rounded the corner said, “Where is the princess?”
“She’s asleep, didn't want to wake her,” Sarena said, hoping she pitched her voice low enough.
“Hob? Is that you?” The guard asked, coming closer. “You don't sound right, mate. You sure—”
Serena brought down the polearm on the guard’s clavicle. She heard a crack, and the man went down to his knees. He looked at her, stunned. She then brought her knee to his chin, and his head snapped back. He fell.
“Damn it, why did you do that?” Toth hissed.
“He’s the guard who took my pistol,” she said. Yet, she could see that the little tantrum had cost her. Three groups of three men were coming towards her. Their tribal hair braids marked them as Vesh clansmen.
“Toth, aren't the Vesh—”
“Cannibals. We must run, very fast,” Toth squalled.
She turned and bolted for an open doorway. It led out onto a side quay with a small skiff runner. Two men in vests and wool trousers were unloading thick cuts of what smelled like woodworm carcass. The smell was enough to make her gag. She didn’t stop to ask for permission. She simply leaped onto the deck of the skiff, cut the line with her pilfered dirk, and jerked the sail down. The wind caught, and the skiff went shooting along the wooden ripples and boles of the wood sea before she could blink.
She looked behind her at the castle and let out a sigh of relief. “Finally free of that dreadful Brendan.”
“Are you sure?” Toth asked.
“Why? What do you sense?” she asked, pulling off the helmet and dumping Toth. She asked as a reflex, it was what the Lasha did for her and Benny.
He gave her a glare and hissed.
“Listen, they catch you, they’ll be serving fricasseed cat for dinner.”
“I am not a feline. I am a—”
Sarena shook her head. “Don’t care. What do you sense?”
“Five ships will be here and on your tail in five, no— seven minutes,” Toth said, moving to the gunwale of the skiff.
“Course corrections?” She asked.
Toth shook out his coat in one flick, giving Sarena another glance of death. “You might be able to outrun them, but not at this speed.”
Serena looked up from Toth and to the starboard of the skiff. A thick, black patch of clouds was creeping its way towards the skiff and the castle.
“We have to go there?” she asked.
“You want to get to Benny and have your… bath?” he asked, his skin rippling in disgust at the word.
“Yes. Yes I would.”
“Then you have to steer the skiff there. You have a seventy-eight percent chance that the people of this planet will give up on you for being mad.”
“And the other percentage?” Sarena asked, already moving the skiff’s rudder. She aimed at the oncoming storm.
“They start to fire at you from afar and drag your broken but living body to the castle. Where, the Vesh will win and eat you as a sign of their super—”
“Thanks,” Sarena spat out. “I think I’ll take my chances with the windstorm.” She held the rudder steady, the skids sliding over the small ripples of wood with ease. You better
be right about this, Toth.
“Worse than a wind storm. It is what you would call a hurricane or monsoon.”
“How? This planet barely has any water.”
“I don't tell you how the future happens,” Toth said, beginning to preen himself. “I only tell you what I see.”
“Well, that is lovely,” she said. She gritted her teeth as the wind started to pick up. It started to rip and tear at the sail, pulling at the stolen jerkin she had, the cold wind cutting into her. Then she felt the lashing of rain. She had been in monsoons and hurricanes on Earth, yet this was Wormwood.
This can only end well.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Pieter was barely conscious when Kyp and Flynn pulled him into a small hovel. The youth looked up at Pieter, and Pieter knew he had potential. Even now, you look for others. Has the Embassy thoroughly brainwashed you? The voice of Helen asked in his skull. He wanted to let out a bark of laughter, yet pain filled him, and he collapsed while coughing so hard that he tasted and then spit out blood.
“Sir, are you OK?” the youth asked, reaching out to touch Pieter.
The other one, Flynn, grabbed the youth’s hands. “Careful, Kyp. He’s a Void Emissary. You don't want to be tainted by their corruption.”
Peter heard the rancor and hate in the older man’s voice. Then, there was silence as the loud bang-bang-bang of steamjacks trotted down the street. Kyp and Guy pushed themselves against the wall, Pieter clung to the small bed he found himself on, not knowing how he had found his way to it. He looked to see that Kyp and Guy were now sitting and sharing a bottle of some kind of spirit, judging from the smell.
“How long have I been unconscious?” Pieter asked, seeing that at least a few hours had gone by from the light creeping along the street. The Eye of Jove’s illumination outside began to bleed with the sun.
“Four hours,” Kyp said. “Give or take.”
Pieter nodded and then wished he hadn’t. His skull felt as though someone had pushed it through a stone wall. He found himself taking the bottle of spirits and pouring some down his throat.
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