“He was strong,” she found herself saying. Not sure why. Maybe by talking about him, his spirit would tell her she was right in joining the Shadows; that is was worth all that she did. “My brother. Reid. He had one of the god’s blessings. Incredible strength, and stamina too. He could plow the farms without ox help; he could do so much work without breaking a sweat, and then, if he got hurt, it wouldn’t even bother him. This one time, he tried climbing this rocky outcrop, really high, maybe hundred feet, but he slipped, fell straight down on his head, and didn’t even break…a…bone.” What in the Goddess’s name was she doing? Talking about her life? To a stranger! Don’t be stupid, Roe! “They took him. Killed him,” she ended curtly.
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? What’s the point of it all? The Almighty? The Seven? The Old One? Why they blessed some, and not others, and not even protect those they did bless. Your brother, my uncle. So many gods and we’re no where better for it. We, in the north, are fighting over the Black Monolith Shard. So much blood. For what? A piece of funny looking rock?”
Roe chuckled. “Kinda ridiculous when you say it like that?” Good, he was softening up. Now she had to get him to trust her enough to let her go on her own, or maybe lower his guard enough for her to tie him up with something. “But you know who you sound like? The empire.”
He laughed. “Now you see, they have the right idea. The gods are only gods because they have power to do something for you. Do it yourself and you need no one.”
Roe bumped his shoulder with hers. “Come on, Papp, I’ve never heard of an atheist Islander.”
“Most Islanders won’t admit it,” he began, coldly. “But they remember what happened to us, what’s been passed down. Being slaves to the Old One. Where were the Seven then? We couldn’t hope for them then, we can’t now.”
Roe took another look at the dagger, only the golden hilt visible above the wood plank. It was pretty, she admitted, but useless to carry around. Someone would be bound to see it and try to steal it.
“Papp, why are you bringing this knife back home with you?”
“Because its ours, we made it. …And I’ll never let my people suffer again.” He glanced sideways at her. “Don’t try to steal it,” he said. “Don’t think I trust you because we shared something about each other.”
“I…know,” she said, trying to sound submissive on purpose.”
“Your mission with the empire…does it have to do with the One-King?”
Of course it did; everything she did was for that bastard to fall. “It’s called espionage for a reason, Papp,” she said lightly.
“Yea, I guess so.”
And Roe sighed. Apparently, Papp was done talking and the silence between them grew again.
Up ahead, Roe saw a forested area come up where Papp slowed down and quickly found a trickling brook near the forest’s edge. Orange sun on their backs casted long shadows deep into the forest, revealing a gnarled and thick wood. The ocean was in that direction, Roe knew, but the dense forest made it seem miles away. Horses would be useless now, unless he knew another way. Hopefully, he didn’t. This would probably be the best place to lose him.
The two jumped off —Roe surprising herself with her renewed strength— and took a drink from the brook upstream from where the horses lapped the water noisily. Papp plopped down, stretching his legs into the water to cool his feet. Roe, feeling much better, didn’t want to sit still. She roamed around to the back of the carriage, expecting to find the arrow lodged there.
And sure enough the arrow stuck out of the back paneling, a paper attached to the nock. Glancing a look at Papp who seemed content in splashing his feet, she tore the paper. Nothing. There was nothing written on either side. Confused, she tore the arrow free. Nothing strange about the arrow, either, as far as she could tell. She held the paper toward the setting sun. Different hues of white shimmered like waves of water upon the page, reflecting back from its edges like a pool. Symbols on the page deflected the waves as they passed, but she couldn’t read them. It wasn’t even a language but some random groupings of lines, curves and shades, probably a special code for those gray riders. In any case, this was certainly magic, and it had to go.
“Papp,” she called. “You have anything that’ll burn.”
“No, I don’t. Sorry, I’ve got nothing to cook. We’ll be at the shore in a few hours anyway—
She waved the paper at him. “Those riders shot this at the carriage and it has magic in it. Wanna guess what it does?”
He jumped to his feet, putting one shoe back one at a time. “Yea,” he said, grimly. “They’re coming.” He nodded to the forest. “We’re going in, anyway. Why don’t you just crumble and toss it some place inside the forest?”
Not a good idea, Roe thought. Whoever they were, robbers or slavers, they would quickly find the carriage, and since they had a mage with them, they would work their way through the forest easily. Eyeing the brook, she came up with a better idea.
She folded the paper into a miniature boat —looked more like a hat, she thought to herself— and placed it gently on the water as Papp looked on. The hat-boat gently flowed down the stream toward whatever tributaries and rivers that lay ahead.
“Peaceful looking,” he said. “In late summer, our families on the islands would make little boats out of leaves and race them in the currents. The southerners usually won the races; their trees shed larger leaves, but a well-made boat would out last them all.”
“That would be nice to see,” she said.
He snorted. “You ready,” he asked as he ran up to the box seat to grab his knife.
“Yea, I suppose I am,” she said reservedly. Another opportunity to lose him was gone, but the thick forest before them seemed like a gift from the Veiled Goddess. She’d get another chance to slip away.
Rejoining her, the two walked into the forest, the sun sinking behind them and the darkness encroaching ahead. Soon, the sun’s light extinguished, and a twilight glow descended around them as if daylight never touched this place. That should have comforted her, the darkness to maneuver in, but instead, she gulped, reaching into her pocket and gripping hard on her warding stone, still cold as was the one about her neck.
Quiet too, no birds chirped or animal called —very quiet. Even the crinkling of the undergrowth and bristling of leaves seemed to suffocate before they reached her ears. The trickling of the brook behind them had all but disappeared. The air, at first musty with bitter and sweet foliage, chilled as a gentle cold breeze somehow thwarted the choking trees and blew in from the east, causing a wave of goosebumps to prickle across her exposed arms and face. The temperature continued to drop as she fought off a shiver, or was it just her nerves? Her chest warmed and so did the warding stone in her hand, clasping tighter now. But she forced calming breaths; she’d experience this before. The Chills stalked them, but they were safe so long as they had these stones.
“You have a warding stone, right,” Papp whispered, with his knife in hand.
“Yes,” she answered. Short, one-word answers were best. Her father often said the Chills were the dead who lived dishonorable lives. Rejected by the Almighty, they couldn’t join him, so they remained here, longing to live again to undo what they had done wrong. She had sent plenty of dishonorable people to the Almighty. Would they recognize her? Shut it out of your mind, Roe, she told herself, gripping all the harder around her stone.
“Oh, of course you would have one, you’re a profession liar, you have to be prepared,” Papp said almost as an after thought, but the weakness in his voice betrayed its intent to accuse her. If he only knew —really knew— what the One-King’s reign was like, he’d understand. Everyone would understand, and they’d do the same as her.
“How much further,” she whispered, finally succumbing to a shudder. She crossed her arms tightly around her —one of her warding stones in hand to keep her warm.
“I’ve never felt it this bad,” he hushed back. “If we didn’t have these stones with us, we’d be infect
ed for sure.”
“But we’re not,” she replied, refusing to consider the thought.
“But something else might be…stay close.” She scanned the thick enclosure of the forest, but the darkness and crowded trees made it difficult to see more than a few yards. Walking on roots and having to navigate around old moss-laden tree trunks, she doubted anything bigger than fox could live in these woods. But, even infected, a fox could be dangerous. How she longed for her weapons! Never again would she leave them behind because her assumed persona didn’t use them. If she had them, she could have left Papp by now!
But instead she followed close, more slowly and cautiously than she wanted, up and down small hills and around trees, large and ancient, and unwelcoming. The little light darkened further and up above where the high bare limbs of the trees didn’t obscure the sky, dark clouded hurried along with an icy wind that brought with it a hint of salt. Roe let out a sigh of relief. She was close enough now; she could leave him behind. But she didn’t want to just disappear so close to shore and have him search her out. She’d try convincing him first.
Shivering, she stopped Papp with a hand on his shoulder. “Alright Papp, thanks for leading me this far, but I’ll do the rest myself. Get back to those horses….”
He turned over his shoulder and stared at her hand with disgust. She pulled her hand back.
“I’ll see you to your friends,” he said, sternly. “I said I would, and we won’t make a liar out of myself.”
“Just because I lied about being an Islander, doesn’t make me a liar all the time, Papp.”
“I just want to make sure you arrive safely,” he said, with that unassuming friendliness of an Islander which now sounded awfully sarcastic. How irritating!
“And what about you,” she accused, hugging herself again to stay warm. “That knife, you stole it. You’re not going back, are you? I can already tell. You didn’t seem all that concerned those people might find your carriage ‘cuz you’re going someplace else.”
He looked at the dagger longingly as if it were a precious heirloom. Maybe it was, a piece of Islander junk for his own empire building.
“I told you before, this belonged to us,” he said in a whisper. “We made it years before the Sundering. When the Islands were one. We made it for our oppressors, but our hands made it. It’s ours.” He snorted. “You wouldn’t understand, impostor.” He then marched on ahead. “Keep up. I’ll see you to the end.”
“No, wait, you can’t,” she said.
He turned back. “Why?” Because we’ll kill you, she thought of saying and the look in his face seemed to suggest he guessed something similar.
“Then go on, Papp. Please. Go your own way. Thanks for helping me. I’ll be fine now.”
“What’s the matter? Don’t want to use me anymore? Besides, you’ll get lost. Go running and rabbling like before. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be outside that jail staring at your feet.” Roe startled at those words, something about them didn’t sit right, like two different thoughts that didn’t fit together. Just how did he find her after the Major left? So quickly, too. Rumors don’t spread that fast and the Major wouldn’t have spread them, either. And how did he know about Rochelle if he was from the Islands? And how did Rochelle find them so quickly too? She cocked her head back. And why wasn’t Papp confused about her ‘rambling’ as a symptom of a mine tunnel collapse? He didn’t seem bothered by that at all.
“What’s wrong? You hear something?”
She took a step back, digging in her heels. “Papp,” she said slowly, watching the knife in his hand with the corner of her vision.
“What is it?” His hand tightened around the handle.
“Who are you?”
“Eh? Going crazy already? Can’t you wait?” A cold wind blew between them, icy cold making them both shiver, but their eyes locked.
Her teeth chattered. “How exactly did you find me so quickly back at the jails?”
“Told you,” he replied, completely facing her now with a slight bend to the knees, readying himself for something. “Over heard it.”
She shook her head, letting her hands fall to her hips. Damn, no weapons. “Impossible, Papp. The Major wouldn’t tip anyone off. He’d be in a much trouble as I am.”
Papp grinned. “Smart las,” he hissed. “What else?”
“You’re not surprised I’ve been hallucinating. Only one reason. You know where I’ve been.”
“Good,” he said, twisting the knife. “This charade is over, little Rowena.”
“Who…are…you,” she replied slowly, giving her time to think through a plan. He seemed to be more in a defensive position than offensive. Probably meant he wasn’t a fighter or judged her to be the better. He’d wait to see what she would do first.
“Who am I? I’m Lord Salvador Von Sago, Count of the Eastern Heights.” he said with a growl. “Remember me? Oh, I can see that you do. You and your Shadow ilk are the reason the One-King sentenced me to death. A death so terrible.” He shuddered. “And what was my crime? I was too inefficient.”
The utter absurdity of what she heard made her bellow out a half-gasp, half-laugh that sounded flat between the darken trees. “What? Papp, Papp, Papp. You have to be more creative than that. You don’t even look like him. And I’ve watched Sago’s body burn to ash. I spit on his grave. Come on, Papp. You’ve done your research on me, so I’m impressed. Someone from Drakendor then? Some noble’s assassin? You’re one of Sago’s bastard sons or something? Should be more loyal to the mother!” Another cold wind blew, sending Roe’s teeth chattering again. She resisted a shiver, trying to keep her body relaxed and fluid.
“Silly little Rowena Lions. I had no sons. I am from Drakendor, and I did die.” His voice sent a shiver down her spine; the same words, the same mannerism, the same way he would accent ‘little.’ He lifted his dagger toward her. “I bet you still dream of me. he way I allowed your brother to die. Is that what sent you to the arms of the Shadows? Or was it what I revealed about him? A disappointment, he was. One of the few gifted with strength and resilience in all the country and he couldn’t keep a rock about his head for more than four days? Useless waste of my time.” He twisted his shoulder back, relaxing his knife arm, a sign he was going to attack. There would be another sign people usually made just before attacking. Roe watched for it. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? A change to kill me yourself.” His eyes narrowed on her chest.
There! Roe lunged to her right, narrowly missing the knife aimed at her heart. The blade swished in mid-air, exposing his entire front. She went to throw a dagger —I have no daggers!
Instead, she dug her heels in again; she had no choice but to evade another attack and wait for an opening to use her fists or kicks. Papp’s eyes turned on her so full of hate now she hardly recognized him. His knife’s forearm tensed—there! She jumped back, smashing herself against a tree. Damn. She could win this; she could beat him if only she had a weapon —and more room to fight!
Papp snarled, swinging wide; Roe ducked to the her left, enhancing her hearing. She heard —Yes, seagulls! She bolted deeper into the forest, using the sounds to guide her. Papp let out a ragged roar that brought on a cold sweat, but she kept running, stumbling, jumping, dodging around trees, over small dips in the ground and splashing through streams, and bogged pools all while she honed on those seagulls. Just go, Roe. Just go! She’d lose him. All she had to do was allow herself to be silent, use her blessing—
She came to a clearing, the beach, with warm moist salty air hitting her like a smothering blanket. Panting, she searched for —there! A fishing ship made to look marooned on the beach. Some of her crew would be there—
“Stop,” Papp tripped out of the forest, stumbling all over himself, the knife still in his hand. She froze. He stood between her and the boat. If only her crew knew she was here, they’d help; Rochelle be damned, but the slouching waves on the beach and landward wind made it difficult to shout over. She’d have to handl
e this on her own. “What…what happened,” he said. “Why’d you run all of a sudden? Are you dreaming again?”
She felt warmth on her belly, a slice wound across her abdomen and red blood dribbling down. “You, you cut me!”
“Cut you? What…what are you talking about?”
She gritted her teeth, the stinging pain only now registering to her. The bastard cut her! But she had to stay calm, use her training she learned from Josie. The situation had to be analyzed first. Don’t panic; adversaries would expect that. They both stood on a soft sandy beach, unstable footing. If he attacked, he’d over compensate and probably slip, but so could she. He held the knife in a loose grip, too, easy to knock it out.
“Zoey,” he called out. “You’re really scaring me. Look, we’re at the beach. Let’s find your friends—”
“Forget it,” she shouted. “Just go! Run! Get out of here.”
Papp’s pained eyes narrowed and slack mouth hardened into a devilish grin. “Me run,” he asked, his voice course and dark again. “Why would I run when this is what you had always wanted. To fight me. To kill me yourself. Isn’t that right, little Rowena?”
Kill him? The wound throbbed with each breath, and she had no weapon. Just how did Papp think she could kill him? Instead, she had to try to pass him and reach the boat. Only one way she saw she could do that: the vanish blessing of the Veiled Goddess. She’d seen Josie do it, but she, herself, couldn’t. Trying had led to embarrassing moments where only parts of her disappeared before she passed out from fatigue. She had little choice now. If Josie could do it, so could she. She took in a deep breath. Just as natural as moving your arm, she told herself as she brought the intention to her mind. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself fade away, becoming one with the dark, one with the night, sight passing through her like water. No, clearer than water, like crystal. Just will it, Roe, as if you had always been able to do it. Strength drained from her as her knees buckled and arms sagged to her sides.
Papp’s eyes shot open, his jaw hung. It worked? I’m invisible—
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 52