The Rabbit And The Raven
Page 25
Then, as his soldiers turned toward him and drew their swords, he saw that someone else had already taken the role of commander. Hedeon’s stomach dropped, and he thought perhaps the paranoid rumors he had easily dismissed were not so silly after all.
The gaunt figure standing before him wore a dark cloak with a hood that gaped wide at the sides. In the low light, the dark silhouette of the cloak resembled the hood of a cobra. And certainly the man wearing the cloak was just as dangerous as any venomous serpent.
Perhaps the reason for the Eastern Oracle’s own increasingly paranoid behavior was because he had been making deals with devils. If so, the oracle had indeed gone mad. No one in his right mind would make a pact with the devil standing before Hedeon now.
Tynan Tierney pushed back his hood. “Hedeon, my old friend. I hear you have once again chosen to align yourself with the wrong people.”
“I have made no alliance with you,” Hedeon replied dryly, staring straight into the Kruor um Beir’s unnaturally dark eyes.
Tierney laughed. “Indeed. That is exactly how you landed in your current predicament.”
“Which is?” Hedeon asked.
“Soon to be discovered.” Tierney smiled coldly. “Just as we will discover how much you shared with the Lightbearer. Take the traitor to the torture chamber. When you finish with him, he will either have confessed to his treason against the Eastern Oracle or be dead. Either outcome is fine by me.” Hedeon felt despair seep into his veins.
Garvan, a soldier Hedeon had personally recruited and trained, stepped forward and took Hedeon’s arm. He signaled for the others to assist him, and suddenly Hedeon was surrounded by his own men. He barely felt the pain shooting up his arms as they were wrenched roughly behind him and bound.
“Garvan,” Hedeon pleaded, staring unbelieving at his protégé’s impassive face. “I trusted you. Above all others, I trusted you.”
Garvan refused to meet Hedeon’s gaze. He grabbed hold of Hedeon’s bound hands and forced him to turn about-face, marching him back up the stairs.
Abby casually browsed the tables, making her way to the tapestries hanging along the tent’s back wall. She looked back again—Marisol was good. Neither the shopkeeper nor the guards were looking her way. She peeked behind the tapestry.
A small girl, no more than eight years old, was crouched there. Her black curls were matted, and the dark skin of her face and arms, and the sleeveless grey shift she wore were covered in grime. She looked terrified.
“Don’t be afraid,” Abby whispered, holding out her hands nonthreateningly. “I won’t hurt you.”
The little girl remained silent. Her brown eyes were wild with fear. Abby hunkered down next to her, out of sight. “Are you hiding from the guards?” she asked.
The girl nodded. “If they find me, they will take me back to the palace. I do not want to go back. I want to go home.”
“I’m Abby. What’s your name?” Abby asked.
“Aziza.”
“All right, Aziza. I’ll take you home. Where do you live?”
“You cannot. My home is too far away,” Aziza whispered. “Daudi said he would take me home, but he never came back.”
“Daudi? Is that your father?” The name sounded familiar, but Abby couldn’t remember where she had heard it.
The girl shook her head. “No. My father is at home, in my village.”
“Okay. Well then, who is Daudi, and what were you two doing in the palace?” Abby asked.
“Not two. Six. We were taken by the winged women. Daudi got away from them. He said he would come back for me.” The little girl looked like she was about to cry.
“Winged women?” Abby’s mouth dropped open in shock as she remembered where she had heard Daudi’s name. The village on the Great Plains, she thought. “Aziza—are you from Nuren?”
Aziza nodded.
“What happened to the other four? Are they still alive?” Abby asked.
The girl shook her head and started to cry.
Abby put her arms around Aziza. “It’s going to be okay. My friends and I are leaving the city. We’ll take you with us. We’ll get you home safe.”
The girl’s body shook with sobs. Abby held her tightly. What did they do to this kid? Abby looked her over. Aziza didn’t seem hurt—not physically, at least. There were no cuts or bruises on her arms or legs. She was barefoot and her feet were muddy. Her hands were dirty too, except for in one spot, where there was a gold tattoo, a mark very similar to one Abby had seen earlier in the day. “How did you escape?” Abby asked.
“A guard was taking me from my cell in the dungeon, but I bit him and got away. I crawled through the grate where they dump the garbage,” the girl said. “I hid in the rubbish cart, but then I heard they were taking the garbage to be burned, so I rolled off the cart and crawled in here.”
“You were very brave to do that, Aziza.” Abby brushed the girl’s matted hair away from her face. “Look, I’ll get you out of the city, but I need to hide you. I saw a shop down the way that sells baskets. I’ll buy a big one and we can smuggle you out. But I need to get my friends to help me. Can you stay here until I come back?”
The girl nodded.
“Okay. Stay quiet and hidden. I’ll be right back,” Abby said, hugging the girl. “I promise.”
Rising, Abby headed toward Marisol and the shopkeeper. “Wow, those fabrics are beautiful,” Abby said, praying her voice sounded calm. Her heart was beating wildly, and her face felt flushed. “Marisol, why don’t you make your purchases? We’re going to need some baskets to carry them home, so I need to step away and buy some.”
“No need, my lady,” the shopkeeper replied. “I have some here that you could take with you.” He pointed to a pile of baskets near the till where he kept his money. None of them had lids.
“Uh, those are very nice, but do you have anything bigger?” Abby asked. “Maybe with lids to protect the fabric from getting soiled?”
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened in interest. Abby could see what he was thinking—it was written all over his face. Bigger baskets meant a larger sale.
“I believe I do,” he said, smiling to himself. “I will be but a moment, my lady.” He excused himself and walked away.
“Oh no, I know that look,” Marisol groaned, studying Abby’s face. “What’s up?”
“I found one of the missing villagers,” Abby whispered. “But we’re going to have to smuggle her out.”
“Brilliant,” Marisol muttered. “Remember when you said shopping was your worst idea ever? This trumps it. We’re going to get caught.” She stared at the shopkeeper who was rifling through baskets, looking for the largest one in his shop.
“I can’t leave her. She’s just a little girl,” Abby said.
Marisol stared at Abby. “A kid? Are you serious?”
“Yes. I can’t leave her,” Abby repeated.
“Okay, you’re right,” Marisol agreed. “I’ll keep this guy under my spell. Good luck.”
The shopkeeper was coming back now, balancing two large baskets with lids. One of them was just large enough to fit Aziza. “I have these,” he said. “Which would you prefer?”
“We’ll take both,” Marisol grinned, producing a bag of coins with a graceful flourish. “And the six bolts of cloth we discussed.”
“Oh! Thank you, my lady! A fine purchase indeed,” the shopkeeper exclaimed.
David was starting to worry. It was all well and good that they were playing this little waiting game, this acting as though everything was fine and they weren’t dying to bolt from the city. But the girls had been away for too long. Surely it couldn’t take that long to make a few token purchases and get the heck out of Dodge.
Ah, there was Marisol, flanked by two guards, one carrying a huge basket, the other with his arms full of fabric. He chuckled to himself. He guessed the girls had done more than put on a good show.
“Where’s Abby?” he asked, taking the basket from the guard.
“She’
s coming, but she took a little detour,” Marisol said. She nodded subtly toward the guards who had accompanied her, and looked back into David’s eyes, her face pinched.
David took that to mean the game was not quite over. He nodded and tried to contain his growing sense of alarm.
Marisol forced a smile. “Nothing to worry about. Can you help me load all this on the horses?”
Marisol had managed to persuade the guards to help her carry her purchases, allowing Abby to slip away with an empty basket.
They almost didn’t get away with it—the shopkeeper had insisted on loading the baskets with the fabric. Once outside the tent, Marisol explained to the guards that she would need to secure the baskets first, and then fill them. Why would she try to secure a heavy basket?
This seemed to make sense to the guards, and they followed her back to the city gate without questioning her logic. Of course, it helped that Marisol had flirted outrageously with them, making sure they were entirely focused on her and not Abby. As they walked, Abby found herself both impressed and disturbed by her friend’s ability to manipulate people. She laughed to herself. Jon had certainly met his match.
It was in the middle of Marisol’s charming of the guards that Abby made her silent escape, padding around to the narrow alley behind the tent. She looked around at the backs of the other colorful tents along either side of the row.
No one in sight. She laid her basket on the ground, removed the lid, and pointed the mouth toward the tent wall. Then she lifted the bottom of the tent and whispered for Aziza to crawl inside the basket. The girl was quick and quiet, and Abby swiftly hid her from view as she tipped the basket upright and replaced the lid.
She had almost made it to the end of the alley when a large Kruorumbrae suddenly materialized in front of her and blocked her way. He almost looked human, but his brawny form and black eyes ringed in red betrayed his true nature.
“Excuse me,” she said, pretending she didn’t recognize him for what he was. She tried to slow her rapid heartbeat, to project only the image of a busy woman annoyed by a minor obstacle, one standing in the way of her completing an important task.
“What do you have in that basket?” the Blood Shadow growled.
Abby was dismayed to notice he was dressed like a palace guard. That could not be good. “Gifts for the queen,” she snapped. “Now, if you please. There are people waiting for me.” She moved to push past the Shadow.
There was a low chuckle behind her. Abby turned to find Malden sitting on his furry haunches, grinning and shaking his head. “Oh, girly, girly. You’ve never been good at lying.” He narrowed his eyes. “Seize her.”
Behind him appeared more Kruorumbrae guards. One of them wrestled the basket from her grasp, and another pinned Abby’s arms behind her with superhuman strength. Pain shot like fire up her arms, and she prayed the guard wouldn’t wrench them out of their sockets.
“How dare you?” Abby protested. She glared at Malden. “I am on a diplomatic mission with the Solas Beir. When he hears of this, you’ll be sorry.”
A tall figure emerged from a column of smoke. She pushed back her hood. “I think not. The Solas Beir has no authority in this city.”
“Lucia,” Abby gasped. What’s she doing here?
“Open the basket,” Lucia ordered.
The tall Kruorumbrae at her side did as Lucia commanded. Aziza was crouched inside, her eyes wide with terror.
“Ah, there you are,” Lucia said, smiling coldly. “Take the prisoner back to the palace and get her cleaned up. She is a mess.”
“No!” Aziza screamed. She kicked and clawed at the burly Kruorumbrae as he threw her over his shoulder. Her efforts had no effect—his grip on her was iron. He turned and carried the girl back toward the palace.
“Let her go!” Abby yelled. She gathered her anger into a tight ball and then pushed it out from her core in a frustrated scream. The Kruorumbrae in front of her were knocked backward, and the guard’s grip on her loosened. Abby shook him off and set her feet in a fighting stance. The grin on Malden’s face vanished, then returned, stretching wide as he saw his mistress calmly hold out her hand. An electric blue orb formed on Lucia’s palm.
“Catch.” Lucia threw the ball of energy at Abby.
Abby tried to block it with her arms, but the ball burst on contact, enveloping her in a wave of blue that crackled and popped as the electricity coursed through her body. She sank to the ground in pain.
“Get her,” Lucia commanded. “She can join the courtesan.”
Abby fought her way out of her haze of pain and tried to wriggle from the guard’s grasp. It was no use. There was only one other means of escape. Closing her eyes, Abby called back the memory of being in the rainforest, when her arms were bound as they were now.
David heard the screams and started running. Abby. He had to find her.
“The gates!” Marisol called after him. “The guards are closing the gates!” The commotion had alerted the guards at the city entrance, who were taking no chances with a prisoner on the loose.
“Go!” David yelled over his shoulder. “We’ll catch up with you.”
“I am coming with you!” Cael shouted, drawing his sword as he ran after David.
David stopped and held up his hand. “No, Cael. Get Jon and Marisol out. I’ve got Abby.”
Cael hesitated. David could almost see what Cael was thinking as he considered whether or not to disobey a direct order. He would never abandon his king—it went again his code as a knight of the Light.
“Go Cael,” David insisted. “We’re right behind you.”
Cael nodded gravely. “We will wait for you at the Eye of the Needle.” He ran back and heaved himself up into his saddle. Jon and Marisol had already mounted their horses. “Come on,” Cael shouted to them, and kicked his horse into a gallop. The gates were already halfway closed.
David launched himself into the air, landing on four paws as a lion. He ran toward the tent where he had heard Abby cry out. He could see a number of Kruorumbrae emerging from around the back side of the tent, chasing something small and white. The rabbit was running as fast as she could, and the Blood Shadows were close on her heels. She was able to outmaneuver them for the moment, but eventually they would catch her.
Roaring, David pulled up short, and then leapt at the Shadow closest to the rabbit, taking him down. The Shadow guard following him tried to jump over his fallen comrade, but David reached up, his lion claws finding purchase in the Blood Shadow’s flesh. He slammed the second Shadow on the ground, and prepared to catch another. As he did, he heard Abby scream again. She had been hit by a bolt of blue energy, and lay enveloped in it, writhing on the ground, changing back to her human form.
David looked up. Malden and Lucia were standing behind a band of Kruorumbrae. Lucia had a pleased look on her face. David roared and leapt to shield Abby from another blow. His teeth clenched as the pain radiated across his flank. He changed back into himself, and then released his own volley of electric blue energy, incinerating three of the oncoming Shadows. Malden yelped and ducked under the edge of a tent.
Lucia met David’s defiant gaze with a glare, as another orb formed on her palm. The orb grew big enough to envelop both David and Abby.
Abby had been weakened too much to survive getting hit again. Scooping her up in his arms, David launched himself into the air and the ball exploded on the spot where he had been standing a second before, leaving a smoking hole in the ground.
Below him, David could hear Lucia shouting at the guards to open the gate. She grabbed David’s abandoned horse and leapt up into the saddle, calling for the Kruorumbrae to join her pursuit.
David flew over the city wall. Ahead he could see clouds of dust from his friends’ mounts. They had escaped the city of the Eastern Oracle.
“David,” Abby whispered. Her voice was hoarse. “Thanks for coming back for me.”
“Always,” he said, cradling her close to him as he flew toward the rock tower in the d
istance. “Are you all right?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ll live. But the little girl—the Shadows took her.”
He glanced down at Abby. “What little girl?”
“That prisoner they were looking for. She was one of the Nuren villagers taken by the Daughters of Mercy. One of them, Yola’s brother, Daudi, got away, and the other four were killed. But Aziza was imprisoned in the palace. They forced her to become a courtesan.”
“No,” David said, narrowing his eyes. “No, that is not okay. This will not stand.”
“That’s why we have to go back for her.”
“I know—but we can’t right now, not with Lucia and her cronies chasing us. Look.” David pointed to the small army of Kruorumbrae bursting from the city gate.
Lucia rode at the front, leading the monstrous pack closer to the portal at the Eye of the Needle.
“If we don’t go back, Aziza will die,” Abby insisted. “She’s just a little kid.”
David looked at Abby’s haggard face. Getting blasted by Lucia’s orb had disoriented her, and he could see she wasn’t grasping their current situation.
“Abby,” he said gently, “I’m sorry. I promise you, once we get away from the Shadows, we’ll rescue her. But right now, the best thing we can do is help our friends. They will die if we don’t. Jon, Marisol, and Cael need us.”
Saying their names did the trick, and Abby’s eyes widened with understanding. “You’re right,” she agreed, nodding. “Of course you’re right. But I promised Aziza I would get her out of the city. When we get back through the portal, we need to get help. We have to come back for her.”
“We will,” David vowed. “We’ll come back and clean the Eastern Oracle’s whole corrupted city. Things will change, I can promise you that.”