“You used me as bait, you rotting dip,” Adelaide snorted angrily. “ I did do that, I confess, but from what I can see it worked perfectly. One less beast hunting us down,wouldn’t you agree? Also, you need a better weapon. That knife of yours will cut skin alright. Put it up against a Tibris Guard’s armor, and you’re going to need a little more power to strike your killing blow. That weapon can slice butter well enough, but it can’t penetrate Firetongue scales.”
He grinned at Adelaide’s puzzled expression. “ Firetongues: big, bad rotters out of Lumos Island on the western side of Sanctumsea. You’ve heard the stories, I’m sure. Two hundred foot long carnivorous worms with bodies as wide as tree trunks. They shoot flammable venom through fangs protruding from the tips of their tongues. Stand close enough to one and you’ll wind up deep fried with a side of barbeque. Their scales are thick and protect them from various means of harm. I think that’s why those Tibris Guards walked straight through our defenses without flinching. They found a way to turn Firetongue scales into a suit of armor.”
“Well , how exactly are we supposed to kill them then?” Adelaide snidely asked. “Maybe you could try milking a Firetongue’s fangs and see how that goes.”
Clayton smiled at her blatant sarcasm.
“And how the rot did you even escape from Havendale?” she pressed on. “ I took one of the side gates, same as you. When I realized the Tibris Guards were inside the village, I filled up some bags with as much food and camping supplies as I could carry. Some years back, my old man told me about an abandoned well a few miles into the woods. Along the way there, I discovered some scattered dog tracks. In fact, I was investigating them when you tripped over me and knocked yourself out last night. Once I made sure you were still breathing, I decided to lure one of the mongrels in close enough to snare it. As you could see,” he beckoned to the carcass hanging from the trap, “I succeeded quite well.”
“You still used me as bait,” Adelaide begrudgingly reminded him. “Besides, there are still four of those things left out there.” “ Not quite. I came across one with its brains bashed in last night. Figure it was Mimi Varrow who’d done it, on account of a bloody earring I saw lying nearby. I guess the dog tried lunging for her throat and got a piece of her ear instead. At least she’s still alive, probably still running with Dakota Browning. I saw them head off into the woods before I reached the gatehouse.”
“How could this even happen? We’ve been accused of crimes and labeled Red Hands! What crimes could possibly warrant immediate annihilation? It makes no sense.”
“Look, if we want answers, then this Lord Tiberion would be the one to have them.” Adelaide groaned and threw up her hands. “Fine,” she declared. “Let’s go ask him.” Clayton laughed and shook his head.
“Look,” he told her. “I understand your anger and want for vengeance, but this won’t be easy. All I managed to scrounge together in the tunnel were a few blankets, some food rations, and a wooden mallet. All you have is a butter knife and a snack. I just don’t want the possibility of you or both of us dying before we figure this thing out. Surely, someone could provide you safety until I return. And when I do, I intend on bringing Tibris Tiberion along by his nose hairs, if need be, to witness his unjustified misdeeds. But I plan to do it alone without hindrance.”
Adelaide scoffed and took a step towards him, their eyes locked in a powerful stare. “ If you plan to make your way to Reignfall to confront Tiberion,” she boldly stated, “then you will have me in your company. That is all there is to it. Though my family rests in Sorra’s bosom, I will see every Tibris Guard in Amber suckle the teats of Necrya! Don’t you even think about trying to stop me.”
Clayton smiled. “Well… I guess I underestimated you, Stokes. I expect a few extra hands might even come in handy. Who knows, there might be some other survivors waiting at the old well.”
“Well then , let’s be off,” Adelaide exclaimed, shouldering her knapsack. As she did, Clayton reached into his pocket and pulled forth a freshly folded handkerchief. She eyed him curiously as he handed it to her. It was at that moment that she realized she still was crying. Not loud blubbering like her mother did when craving attention, but a gentle stream of tears progressing since she’d awoken after the storm. She hastily dabbed her face and desperately tried to put recent events out of her mind. She could still hear the screams of terror and agony, see the lifeless forms sprawled out along the streets, and smell the fire and ash as her village had burned. Adelaide’s eyes brimmed, again, as she remembered Ronan’s fall and reminisced about her winked mother. And what had happened to Gable? Poor, terrified Gable. He was so young. The chances of him being alive seemed so miniscule. She jumped as Clayton’s hand gently touched her arm. His fingers gave her goose bumps, causing a warm, glowing sensation to spread throughout her entire body. It was a wholesome feeling of trust, something even Finn had never made her feel.
“Miss Stokes…Adelaide, I lost my dad a long time ago. Never had brothers or sisters, and really never knew my mother. But if I had and they were taken from me, I don’t know what I would do. I give you my word…no, my most upright vow, that if there is the smallest chance your brother and mother are still alive, we will get them back. I swear on my life.”
His voice was soothing and kind. Adelaide found herself almost smiling before abruptly pulling away from his touch. Another second and she feared she would have leapt into his arms for comfort. And it frightened her how tempting that sounded. She merely shrugged her shoulders and dried her face.
“My…my, uh, I….I don’t think my mothe r will make it. She was winked when Huglund came to execute me. I don’t think he even gave her a second glance.”
“Winked or not,” Clayton laughed. “We will do everything and anything we can for her.As for Gable, I wouldn’t worry too much. I reckon he’ll know how to keep safe until we can figure out what to do.”
“How do you know?”
Clayton smiled and shrugged.
“No, wait. How could you possibly know for certain?” she asked more aggressively. Clayton shrugged again, causing Adelaide to angrily grind her teeth. Without warning, she struck him roughly on the shoulder with her fist. Clayton winced in pain as a look of disbelief crossed his face.
“You wink!” she cried out. Her voice grew louder with every sentence. “How can you stay so calm after everything that has happened to us? What the rot is wrong with you? You can’t know that Gable’s alive! You rotting can’t! My brothers are both gone. My winked mother is gone. Every rotting person in Havendale is gone. We are never getting them back, so stop wasting your breath trying to make me feel better by giving me fairy tales about rescue and getting payback against Tibris Guards. I don’t believe you, and I won’t be pulled into your foolish dream where everything is lorb-light and happiness. This is real. And the reality of this is we are both going to die, just like everyone else, and no one will shed a tear over our bones.”
A horrible sickness seized her stomach as she finished her rant. She instantly wanted to fall to her knees and plead with Clayton that all she’d said was a lie. For her entire life, Adelaide had possessed the occasional outburst of anger that seemed impossible to control. While her mother had deemed it a worthless trait, her ever caring father had attributed it towards her artistic passion. In that moment, however, it did nothing but fill her with shame. She lowered her gaze, half-expected Clayton to leave her there, giving her exactly what she had just asked for. She certainly deserved it. Part of her didn’t even care.
“Did you really mean that, Adelaide?”
No response. “Well,” Clayton went on. “As much as I realize I must pester you, with my calm demeanor and positive thinking, I can assure you it is taking all of my strength. I had no family to lose, but Havendale was my home too. If I don’t stay optimistic and give in to despair, then I worry about what sort of rotting state I might find myself in. It’s been a battle, you see, all my life, and I’ve worked hard to conquer it. I suppose if I
did leave you here all by yourself, I would be riddled with guilt. I don’t enjoy feeling guilty. You don’t have to thank me, but you are coming along. Please understand no matter how hard you make the experience, I can and will endure it. Now, if I could please have my handkerchief back, we should probably start for the well.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Th e chilled morning air kissed Adelaide’s skin as she and Clayton walked along. Both of them had been going for an hour without exchanging a single glance or word. The foliage grew thicker around them as the sunlight danced through the tree branches above. A passing chipmunk scurried across their path, pausing briefly to scrub its nose before darting out of sight. Freshly grown grass and old dried twigs littered the forest floor. The hungry calls of baby birds layered the hurried rush of their mother’s wings. The entire world seemed to be waking up around them with a gentle ease. Adelaide’s anger subsided enough to enjoy the lush atmosphere around her, and an awkward feeling of shame crept over her as she stared up at her companion several paces ahead. She wanted to apologize, but held her tongue as he stopped suddenly. Glancing about, his eyes rested on a nearby tree stump.
“We’re close ,” Clayton finally announced. “That used to be a marker of mine when I came out here exploring. You can see my initials carved into the side of it.”
“Exploring?” asked Adelaide. “You know it’s against the law to be out here.” “Well, a fter everything my dad taught me, it seemed a waste not to. There wasn’t a thing in all these woods Thatcher Hogg couldn’t catch. He taught me how to set that trap this morning.”
Adelaide nodded. She had never met Clayton’s father, though rumors of his brawling nature had passed in everyday conversation. Her dad had been, to an extent, something of a friend to him, which her mother often criticized. It was one of the few things Adelaide and Hattie had actually agreed on. The idea that Bard, a respected citizen, could stand the company of a boozing womanizer like Thatcher, seemed impossible. The man’s only success in life had been as Havendale’s doctor, and even that hadn’t always worked out well for him. As she pondered further, it suddenly dawned on Adelaide that Thatcher hadn’t even bothered to attend Bard’s funeral. She knit her brow and furiously informed Clayton.
“That is wretched, to be sure,” he meekly replied. “ I imagine, however, that he didn’t know. My old man up and left some years ago without as much as a rotting goodbye. No one in Havendale took any notice, except your dad of course. The name Bard Stokes was a popular one in our household.”
“He would never say a word in anger about anyone unless they deserved it,” Adelaide stated proudly. “I’ve heard nothing different,” Clayton laughed. “You must be proud to be his daughter.” Before Adelaide could thank him, he stopped in his tracks and pointed ahead. “Well, look at that,” he laughed. “We have arrived.”
A small clearing lay before them. Pure white rose-buds were dotted across the ground, still moist from the night’s drenching torrents. Not a bush or tree was around to disrupt the seemingly perfect circle of natural utopia. Directly in the center stood the well, composed of gray bricks and mortar slowly being engulfed by green moss and twisting vines. A wooden bucket with rusty hinges lay overturned on its side nearby.
Leaning against the well, was Finn Wessel. His flowing hair was slicked back, revealing a nasty bruise across his scalp. The top three buttons of his shirt were missing, allowing a generous view of his glistening chest. It was in that instant, Adelaide found herself experiencing an inner hunger which only a wild animal could relate to. It was stronger than anything she had felt during the election ceremony, and certainly more intense than what had overcome her on the Feasting Hill. Her body jolted and shivered mercilessly as she succumbed to the pulsating impulse. Rudely shoving Clayton aside, she ran forward and leapt into Finn’s arms. Without thinking, she placed a long smothering kiss on his lips, closing her eyes and squeezing her arms tightly around him as she did so. The inside of his mouth tasted of Honeydrop Beer and Tart Wine, but she didn’t care. Clayton cleared his throat and turned away as she struggled to enclose her mouth entirely over his, sucking and pulling at his tongue in the process. Finn, though surprised, did not pull away.
“Oh, well isn’t that just precious.” Adelaide would have known that glum, nasally voice anywhere. Raoul King Jr! She leapt back, half in embarrassment, half in surprise. Finn noticed her puzzled expression and laughed as Raoul rose to his feet from behind the well, roughly pressing multiple wrinkles out of his pants. His blue gloves were ripped in several places, revealing his hands to be even more pallid than the rest of his body.
“ I found him sobbing like a squirm under some bushes,” Finn remarked. “So I yanked him away before those Tibris Guards could hear his girly cries. I remembered Clayton saying something about this old well a while back and thought I’d come check it out.”
“I wasn’t crying,” Raoul stated defensively. “I keep trying to tell you, I stubbed my…my toe on something sharp and….look, I was merely reacting to the pain.”
“O k, sure,” Finn laughed harshly. “Blondie here claims he was going to follow the tree line all the way to the next village, only he didn’t know what village that was, or how far it was to get there. So, I told him if he wanted to survive the night, he could follow me.”
“Don’t call me Blondie. And I didn’t know we’d be having a givie along for company.” Finn quickly turned and gave him a rough shove. Raoul sneered and pushed him back. The pair began pacing around each other, with fists clenched and eyes locked. Before either could strike a blow, Adelaide jumped between them, throwing her hands up against their chests.
“Stop it!” she yelled. “T wo days ago, the idea of two fellows fighting over me would have turned my squeezer raw, but right now I am not in the mood. Do you hear me? We have just lost everything and everyone we care about. They were taken by Tibris Tiberion, the rotting lord of Amber. Clayton and I are going to confront him right now and find out why we have been condemned as Red Hands. The two of you are welcome to join, but don’t think for a second that I’ll tolerate any outbursts of hormonal rage. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”
Finn grinned and nodded sheepishly. Raoul pursed his lips and glared intently at Adelaide. She returned his glare with one of her own.
“So,” Finn chuckled. “How do you both plan to accomplish that?”
Adelaide looked to Clayton, who stepped forward. “These woods are impossible to navigate, unless you’ve spent quite some time in them,” he stoutly announced.“If Huglund is at all brainy, he’ll understand that. So he’ll move along the border, and wait for us to expose ourselves out in the open. If we can make our way through it all, and come out before Huglund reaches us, we can raise an alarm that awakens all of Sanctumsea. But we need to move soon and fast. Is anyone else armed?” He drew forth his mallet.
Raoul and Finn shook their heads. Adelaide held up her knife. “Well I snatched more than just blankets and grub on my way out of Havendale,” Clayton announced. He lay down his knapsack and drew forth a brand new single-bit hatchet with the price tag still stamped onthe handle. Finn’s eyes lit up as Clayton handed it over to him.
“What about me?” Raoul snapped. “We could always use you as dog bait,” chuckled Finn.
“I also nabbed this,” C layton said, offering Raoul a letter opener carved out of ivory. The edges were dull and the tip of the blade was worn down to a nub. Even with applied force, it would take several jabs for the item to draw blood. Raoul accepted it with an exacerbated sigh.
“Thanks a bunch. Now I can scratch our names into tombstones before we get ended.”
“Maybe you can use some family shine to buy them off,” Finn snorted. “Isn’t that what your lot does?” Raoul advanced once again with fists clenched. Adelaide stood before him, her face resolute. Her eyes told an unspoken tale of unpleasant consequences should he choose to defy her. He shuddered beneath her unwavering stare.
“Now,” Clayton threw in. “ If we st
ay alert, and take notice of every safe plant, berry, and passing creek, we might just make it. Anyone have any questions?”
The trio glanced at each other in growing discomfort, obviously unprepared to face whatever lay in front of them. “Alright then,” Clayton declared, shouldering his bag. “Let’s get moving.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Clayton led the way, walking along with all the confidence he could muster. There was a slight touch of uncertainty in his face, which he hid well under a mask of determination. He glanced back occasionally at the rest of the group, beckoning them forward in hopeful spirits. It was clear to him that no matter what lay ahead of them, the last thing any of them could do was start to panic.
Adelaide trudged behind him. She felt exposed and intimidated as she moved through the untended vegetation. Every branch, leaf, and drop of dew gave her pause as she struggled to keep agonizing memories at bay. Ominous laughing bounded from behind every tree trunk. Eerie whispers darted in and out of her ears, chilling her through to the bones. She desperately clung to the dwindling hope that, unlike her mother, she hadn’t gone completely winked.
Finn followed close behind. His gaze drifted from the back of Adelaide’s neck, down to the small of her spine, and finally rested on the shape of her rump against the back of her dress. He gulped and swallowed intensely. Even then, walking along in fervent haste away from the maddening pandemonium behind them, his mind flickered sparingly from one lusty fantasy to another.
Raoul trailed several yards behind the group, grumbling and groaning with every pace. Occasionally, he reached down to the dampened earth and picked up a fallen acorn. A plotting smirk crossed his lips as he aimed the tiny missile directly at the back of Finn’s head before ultimately chucking it lazily at nearby songbirds or a darting squirrel.
The Acryptus Tree Page 6