by D N Meinster
Aros glanced back yearningly toward the lake where he had spoken to Leidess, while Doren finally realized he had been staring at Rikki and looked away.
"Are both of you just going to stand there?" Rikki asked. "Hatswick is going to get all the Keys at this rate."
Rikki took a few steps forward, hoping her friends would follow. Although she didn't hear them move, she kept going, expecting them to catch up eventually.
"Rikki!" Doren shouted after her, and the scuffling of feet signaled that her friends were on the move.
"Are we suddenly in a rush?" Aros asked when he made it to her side.
"We've been in a rush," Rikki replied. "Every second we waste increases the chances of Neanthal's return. It didn't help that we went in the completely wrong direction."
"If Hatswick was that far ahead of us, Leidess would've told me," Aros insisted.
"Hatswick can go wherever he wants with only a thought. He can shift. I can't."
"And you'd like to change that," Doren stated.
"Of course," Rikki said. But she was not ready to try until the second Key was theirs. There was no telling what might happen if she shifted incorrectly. Her body could end up mangled, or she could wind up somewhere she didn't intend. And it required deserting Doren and Aros, which she was not prepared to do.
"So why don't you?" Aros asked.
"There are too many what ifs," she told him. "But when that second key is hanging from your belt, I'll be ready to try."
"That means there's a long walk ahead of us," Doren sighed.
"Let's hope Lady Yveen has gone some other way," Rikki said, praying that she didn't have to match wits or brawn with the Faun rider again.
But there were no tracks or claw marks in the green fields they traversed. In fact, for a kingdom at war, it was oddly quiet. There was the occasional bird fluttering overhead, letting out a few chirps, or a strong gust of wind that brushed past their ears as it unsettled the grass and stirred the trees. But there were no signs of anyone else traveling about in any direction.
Even the trio was unusually silent as they went on and the sun climbed higher in the sky. Rikki could sense the tension between Doren and Aros, though she was pretty sure it was only Doren that was exuding any animus. Aros was either oblivious or thinking about Leidess.
Doren's words echoed in her ear. "I don't trust him."
Rikki did not feel the same way. Not at all. Despite his unexpected attack, she still trusted the boy with her life, and she suspected the Goddess did as well. She hoped Doren would let go of his ill feelings, though she doubted it. Doren had clung to his resentment for his father for as long as she knew him. But if he didn't forgive Aros, it was going to make the rest of their journey very uncomfortable. It already was, really. Doren was on one side of her, and Aros was on the other. Neither wanted to break the silence.
A speck of movement ahead and a dull crunching noise stopped Rikki in her tracks. Neither of her companions noticed, though, and they kept ahead.
"Aros, Doren," she hissed at them.
They both stopped and looked at her.
"There's something up ahead," Rikki informed them.
Both turned their heads and searched for the source of the noise. When they found it, Doren chuckled.
"What is it?" Aros asked.
Doren didn't answer, but when it got close enough, Rikki exclaimed its name. "Denhare!"
An overlarge ball of white fur hopped into their vicinity. Two long ears stuck out from the sides of its bitty head, where beady eyes failed to notice anyone and its pink nose and whiskers failed to sniff them out.
"My great aunt had one of these," Doren said as he stretched his hand out. "It was one of the last in Kytheras."
Rikki grabbed Doren's wrist before he could pet it. "We don't know if it's wild."
"Right," Doren said, and he tucked his hand against his chest.
"Denhare?" Aros asked, scratching his head.
"Aros has no idea what we're talking about," Rikki sighed. "Denhares are often kept as pets, but when they're taken in, the owner shaves down their teeth. A denhare with shaved teeth means it's domesticated. Sharp teeth mean it’s wild."
Aros gawked at the cute animal. "And it's native to Faunli?"
Rikki poked Doren to make him answer.
"There were a few left in Kytheras after the Parting, but yes, they are native to this place."
"If only they bred as well as mice in Kytheras," Rikki said.
"Or rattipedes," Aros replied.
The three of them shivered.
The shouts of a young woman interrupted their collective flashback to the Kytheran sewers, and each of them held out their weapons as she approached.
The woman was apparently not one to be intimidated, and she scooped the denhare up into her arms while the trio kept their weaponry pointed at her. Though her face was young, there were gray hairs mixed in with the black atop her head. And as she cuddled with the denhare, the fresh blood on her hands was all the more noticeable. With every stroke drawn against her pet's fur, streaks of red were left among the white. She looked at them with contempt, said something in Faun, and then turned away.
"I don't think she speaks our language," Aros said.
"Hey!" Rikki yelled after her, but the woman ignored her.
"You're not gonna make us follow this one too, are you?" Doren fussed.
Rikki wasn't about to divert them again after her earlier speech. "Of course not. But she's heading in the direction we need to go." She took off, following the woman.
"Rikki," Doren grumbled.
She couldn't explain her compulsion to follow this woman, not to her friends or herself. She just knew that she had to. Sure, the blood on her hands was mysterious, but it didn't necessarily require an explanation. Was this the Goddess within, compelling her to do that which she might not normally do? Or was it something else? Being a mage, it was sometimes hard to tell.
As Rikki traced the woman's steps, climbing a nearby hill, her foot crunched down onto something much tougher than grass. Was this what she was meant to find?
Rikki bent down, scraping at the grass to discover what was beneath. Her fingertips slid against a rough surface, scratching what was evidently a form of rock. She spread her hands out, seeing how extensive the rock's surface was.
This wasn't solely rock or stone. This was a road. Beneath this pasture, there had once been a street, for travelers on foot and on wheels.
"What is it?" Doren asked as he and Aros arrived at her location.
"Do you smell that?" Aros asked, sniffing the air. "Reminds me of the shop after Ratch had – "
Aros scrambled up the remainder of the hill, and then stared off into the distance.
Rikki rose up, knocked the bottom of her staff against the long-forgotten path, and followed Aros' lead.
What lie before them was not reminiscent of the serene landscape they had enjoyed throughout their time in Faunli. No, this was a sign of the war. The fields at the bottom of the hill, those that had overtaken an ancient road, were smoldering.
The flames were masked by wafts of smoke rising up from the meadow. There was no greenery or fresh air ahead, only gray.
Doren took a few steps beyond his companions and plucked an object out of the earth. After turning it about in his hands a few times, he held it up to Rikki so she could see.
In his grip was a misshapen yellow ball; a lemon. Rikki gaped at it for a moment before returning her focus to the inferno. Beyond the blaze, mostly covered by smog, she could make out the silhouettes of manmade structures.
"Lemon Village," she said, remembering Lady Yveen's words. She took in deep breaths as she studied the inferno. Could she put it all out? Should she? Rikki could only surmise that people were burning ahead of her, even though she heard no screams. They were not here to take sides in a war, but this went beyond warfare. This was inhumane.
Grabbing onto her staff with both hands, she held it close before whipping it forward. A str
eak of wind escaped the staff, cooling the flames that were in its path. She repeated this process multiple times; to the left; to the right. Each jab dampened the fires and left a feasible trail to the village.
"This seems like a bad idea," Doren said before Rikki started down the hill.
There was no sign of the woman she had followed. All that encompassed the area were crispy lemons and charred fields. Smoke still rose from the ashes of the plants and fruits, and up ahead, the fires were still burning.
But the blaze had also left behind the ancient road, all its cracks and holes visible now that the greenery atop it had burned away. Rikki bounced atop the stone, hurrying to put the rest of the fire out.
"Rikki!" Doren cried out as she neared the periphery of the flames.
She didn't look back at him, but Rikki smiled to herself as she acknowledged his concern. She was rather glad Doren was with her, but she didn't want to get too distracted, especially as she was so close to the fire. She shook it from her head and refocused on her priority.
Rikki stretched out her staff with her left arm and began twirling in place. With a few simple motions, she extinguished a piece of the blaze before her. Her staff flipped about in her hands, and then another part of the fire abated. It was a simple dance she was performing; with every spin and thrust, the flames disappeared. Her staff and body worked together through elegant and powerful motions, eliminating one of nature's deadliest beasts.
When the dance ended, the flames were gone, and Rikki's body was exhausted. She would've plopped right onto the ground, but feared the heat that may have still emanated from the cinders. So, instead, she loosened up her muscles and leaned on her staff as she waited for Doren and Aros to catch up.
Before her friends made it to her side, she noticed there were more than burnt lemons and simmering vegetation in the meadows. There were bodies. Hundreds. Skeletal remains that reached out as they had tried to escape their gruesome deaths. Rikki's face fell as she recognized the horrors. Her stomach turned as the smell of burnt flesh crept up her nose. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see anymore.
"What's wrong?" Doren asked as he came up to her.
"Just look," Aros said in a horrified whisper, for once noticing what his friend did not.
Doren gasped as he realized what surrounded them.
Rikki opened her eyes but refused to look at the fields. Instead, she directed her attention to Lemon Village. They were very close now, making it easy to see the charred homes which the dead had once occupied. Some of the buildings had endured, though black marks now adorned their sides. Others were completely gone, having been eaten away by the flames. And amongst it all were more bodies, some even propped up on sticks.
No, those weren't sticks.
"Guys," Rikki murmured. "Take out your weapons."
"What is it?" Aros asked. He studied Rikki's eyes to track what they had been alerted to. When he realized what it was, he ran forward, putting a hand on the hilt of his blade.
Doren gave Rikki a very obvious look of disapproval, and then chased after him.
Those were spears penetrating the bodies. This was not an act of war. This was a massacre. Sarin had been here.
Chapter Eleven
The Roamers
Doren knew why Aros had shot ahead, but he still didn't approve. It was reckless and put all three of them in danger. He should've known not to expect anything better from him.
Aros should not have been here. Doren was sure of it. Unfortunately, he was the only one. Rikki was insistent that their friend was meant to accompany them on this journey. And the Goddess? Was She really manipulating events to keep the three of them together? Aros swore he saw Leidess, and Rikki felt her presence, but Doren had his doubts.
After his mother died, Doren had incredibly vivid dreams about her. Some had convinced him that she was still alive, and when he awoke, he expected to see her right there in his room. But, of course, she was not. Dreams were purely a mind's fantasy.
Aros was studying the spears stuck into the remains when Doren came upon him. Did the Goddess really give him a mission to kill Sarin? Or did he actually give it to himself?
"Sarin," Aros said, positive that the spear belonged to the resurrected killer. He looked up from the remains, hopeful to see his target, but only Doren was nearby.
Doren deeply wanted to tell Aros to leave and go back home. They were not in Faunli for Sarin. They were here for the Key. But he had already tried doing that indirectly. As long as Rikki wanted Aros with them, they were stuck with him.
"How much more do you want to breathe this in?" Rikki said as she came up to them.
"You want to go?" Aros asked in a shocked tone. He looked right into Rikki's eyes. "Sarin could be here!"
Memories of Doren's last encounter with Sarin flashed before his eyes, and he was no longer content leaving his shield on his back. The bronze weapon now in his grasp, he searched the charred ruins for any sign of their foe. "You shouldn't be so eager to fight him, Aros. Don't you remember what happened the last time the three of us took him on?"
"We're not amateurs anymore," Aros shot back. "We can take him." Aros whipped a sword out and held it between them. "Remember?"
Rikki bit her lip before reluctantly touching her staff to the clawblade.
Doren was not so eager to put his shield forward. He did not consent to any of this. This situation in Faunli was entirely different than what they had faced in Kytheras. Violence was not the means to achieve their goals. They were dealing with emperors, lords, and ladies. This required diplomatic skill. Aros certainly didn't have that. And if Rikki did, she was letting her safeguarding of Aros undermine it.
While his shield inched toward his friends, he warned them. "In Kytheras, we were going to war. That is not an option in Faunli."
Aros took his clawblade back as soon as the shield grazed it. "We're already at war, Doren. So is the rest of this kingdom."
Doren looked to Rikki. Whose side was she on? Was she going to defend Aros yet again?
But Rikki merely sighed, and Doren got the feeling she knew exactly what he was expecting of her. "Are you two really going to argue over words now?"
"It's not just about the words," Doren grumbled.
There was a fierceness in Rikki's green eyes as they focused on him, and his heart fluttered while the rest of him shook. "We have a mission. And we will do whatever it requires us to do. Sometimes that means fighting." Her head sharply turned to Aros. "And sometimes it does not."
Aros' head dropped at the very hint of his earlier outbursts.
"We're doomed," Doren bemoaned. "If we can't keep it together now – "
"How will you ever retrieve the Keys?" a nearby voice interrupted.
All three heads turned to gaze upon the new arrival. And all were shocked by his appearance, for it was not who they had expected.
Standing alone amongst the ruins of Lemon Village was a figure wrapped in a half-black and half-white cloak. From head-to-toe, there were no discernible attributes to this man. His face was shrouded in shadow beneath his hood, and all of his features were veiled by the fabric of his attire.
"We've awoken at the perfect time." His voice was soft, but there was a commanding cadence to every word. "The three of you have not bungled it all yet."
"We?" Aros asked.
Out of nowhere, four addition cloaks spun into existence at the side of this unknown man. Each twirled in place for a moment, like they were tops just waiting to tip over. But when they finally stopped, they remained standing.
All of them were identical, except for the colorful cloth they sported. There was a blue cloak, a yellow cloak, a silver cloak, and an orange cloak. But only their fashion choice was visible. Their faces, their hands, and even their legs were all hidden beneath the rumpled coats and hoods.
"You just had to say something," Doren scolded Aros.
"Don't blame him," Rikki said as she stepped toward the new arrivals. She pointed her staff at the cloaks.
"Identify yourselves."
The man in the black and white cloak tilted his head. "I recognize that staff, mage. From what I've seen, you do not deserve it."
The channeling crystal on the staff lit up. "I will not ask again."
"But you didn't ask," the cloaked man responded. "You ordered. And we do not take orders from you, no matter whose staff you wield."
The silver-cloaked man whispered something to their leader.
"Obviously," he replied.
Doren waited to see what Rikki would choose to do. This was all likely to end in a fight. Was Magenine intentionally trying to prove him wrong?
"You have one of the Keys," the cloaked man said. "Give it to us and we will be on our way."
"That's not gonna happen," Aros shouted, and he took out his second clawblade.
The cloaked man chuckled. "You're going to fight us? You do realize you're outnumbered?"
"We've faced worse odds."
The cloaked man raised his arm up, but instead of withdrawing a weapon, he lowered his hood. He was young, not even ten years older than Doren, with a steely expression on his tan face. Flowing silver hair fell behind his back, while the rest of him wasn't as distinguishable due to their distance. Still, there was something very familiar about him.
"We keep our identities hidden for a reason," he said. "But to stave off conflict, I will reveal mine. I am Slythe. We are the Roamers of Ghumai, and we exist for one reason: to protect the Keys."
Rikki lowered her staff. "We share a common goal."
"Perhaps," Slythe replied. "But you are children. The Keys are safer in our hands."
Roamers? Doren had never heard of such a group. And if they were so adamant on protecting the Keys, where were they a deck ago? They'd already failed and left it up to Doren and his companions to prevent Neanthal's release. There wasn't a chance they'd turn over the Key now.
"Not according to the Goddess," Rikki responded. "It is by Her will that we mean to gather the Keys."
Slythe shook his head and gazed into the obscured faces of his fellow Roamers. Doren got the sense he didn't believe them.
"I do not know what Magenine desires," Slythe said. "Maybe She does want you to protect the Keys. But that's a problem, because I have orders."