by K. F. Breene
“You won’t make it. There are only ten of them, though.”
Shanti breathed deeply, trying to catch her breath before she willed her body back into battle-mode. “Those ten all have the Gift, and will be well trained. They’ll give us just as much trouble as these thirty.”
“Forty. Almost.”
“Forty. Right.” Shanti looked around with wide eyes, not bothering to count. “No wonder Xandre wants me; but he’s got better.”
“And now he’ll know he has to use them.”
Cayan walked to her, his eyes lingering on her wound. “You should probably put your pants back on. We don’t have much time.”
Shanti shrugged. “What’s the difference? Blood comes off skin easier than it does fabric, and they’re the only pair that fit me. If they were armored, then we’d have something to talk about.”
A grin quirked Cayan’s lips. “I guess now we know there are benefits to not caring about nudity.”
“Not caring in general, I think.”
Shanti took a last deep breath before retrieving her knives. She took a few of the Inkna’s, too. Then she faced the mind that seemed the strongest, coming from the north.
Cayan put himself at her back, facing away from her. He didn’t ask why she hadn’t picked another battle area. He was no novice. The new enemy would have to climb over all the bodies to get to them, and that would slow them down. Hopefully it would slow them down enough.
“I’m glad I’m used to beating on you or I might have a real problem hitting these women I feel sneaking in.” Cayan’s voice was hard, ready for what might be coming.
She felt them, but didn’t hear them. They were right beyond the trees; excellent stalkers, one and all. They’d obviously had a lot of practice at it from the previous hopefuls, and more: they must’ve trained religiously.
Shanti saw a flash of movement to the right.
“One coming left,” Cayan said.
Shock and outrage flared in the minds as someone called, “Stop!” in the Shadow’s tongue. “Wait until I assess.”
“What did he say?” Cayan asked in a low hum.
Minds flashed with approval, some with validation, and one with traces of fear. The man in the north—the mind she had turned to face—stepped out of the trees. Bright orange flared as the sun caught his hair. His gaze was on hers before it swept the ground around her. Anger seethed from his mind as he stopped at the man with the white shirt. When he looked back up, he stared at her for a moment before he said, “You have no pants.”
Shanti couldn’t help the huffed laugh, expecting something completely different. “My leg hurts,” she admitted. “Soon I’ll be without shirt, too, because my side must be bleeding through by now.”
“Yes.” He shook his head and yelled to his people, “Stand away. Come out. They have already fought enough for the day.”
“He’s calling off their attack,” Shanti translated for Cayan.
“Can we trust them? Is what I feel from them correct?” he responded, not dropping his guard.
“Yes.” She dropped her knife onto her pants. Her stolen sword followed a moment later. “I am very glad to hear you say that,” she called to the orange-haired man. “I wasn’t overly excited about fighting you.”
“If there wasn’t the ban on killing, the sentiment would be duplicated.” The orange-haired man walked toward them before stopping at the edge of the bodies. His fighters stepped out of the trees, sheathing their swords or knives.
“Not everyone uses swords?” Shanti asked as she bent to an officer to retrieve cloth for bandages.
“Don’t take that—” the man said, threading through the bodies. His eyes were focused on her wounds. “We brought bandages. And yes, we all use swords, but it was thought that this many against just two would be largely unfair, so we intended to even the stakes. Judging by what lays before you, I think my assessment was that of whoever sent these Graygual.”
Shanti straightened as the man peeled away her bandages. The wound was a mess of scabs and oozing red. The light green salve began to drip down her leg as the pus and blood overwhelmed the gashes. “Are the other wounds this bad?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Yes. That beast wasn’t very nice.” Shanti winced as he pressed the swollen, red flesh around the wound.
“This is in danger of becoming infected. And you almost killed him—he would probably say the same about you, if he could speak.”
“He is a pet?” Cayan asked with a flat voice. Shock radiated from his mind, however, something everyone in that clearing probably felt because he wasn’t holding his emotions in check. But, with all she’d had to teach him, there had been little time to spend on that lesson.
“Yes. And will probably not be fond of you after this.” The orange-haired man straightened. “I am Sonson.” He offered a slight bow.
“Do the Graygual know about him?” Shanti asked as someone else threaded his way through the Graygual bodies. The others were picking pockets and analyzing weapons, no doubt trying to learn more of the enemy encroaching upon their lands.
“He killed one of theirs, but it wasn’t a hopeful-Chosen,” Sonson said. “There are Graygual slipping into the trials. I’m not sure what they are trying to assess…”
“They’ve made a map, for a start.” Shanti handed over the Graygual pack. “And Xandre makes it his business to know everything about a nation he plans to rule.”
“If you weren’t so deadpan, I would think you were trying to scare me.” Sonson smiled and stepped aside as a man dropped to one knee to assess her wound.
“Can we do this somewhere else?” Cayan asked, picking up Shanti’s items.
“Not quite yet,” Sonson said, looking over his shoulder, and then out to the side. He then glanced up at the fog drifting in to cover the sky. “I want to use her as bait to see if more are coming. They must know they’ve lost their Inkna by now.”
“No more are coming,” Shanti said in assurance. “I don’t know if they were part of a test, but their not returning alone will answer certain questions. The next group will not fail.”
Sonson squinted into Shanti’s face. “You know him well, this tyrant. Or at least you think you do.”
“I think I do, yes. Who knows how he has changed over the year since I’ve been running for my life, but I know his way.”
Sonson’s mouth turned into a thinking duckbill as he nodded. “Sounds reasonable. Okay, let’s get you to shelter where we can play medicine.” He winked.
* * *
Two hours later, Shanti was lying on her stomach on a bed of soft animal fur the Shadow people brought. A vile-smelling salve covered her wounds and a fire roared by her side. Cayan sat a few paces away with Sonson, giving her space. Shadow people cleaned and skinned animals they’d recently brought back for a large supper.
“I can’t imagine you treat all your guests like this?” Shanti asked as she rested her chin on her hands.
“We would, if any made it this far. I have your next instructions.” Sonson looked to one of the people skinning. The woman rose, wiping her hands down her pants before pulling a piece of parchment from her back pocket. She approached Shanti, hesitating as her gaze scanned the wounds, and then handed it to Cayan instead.
Cayan glanced at the document. “You’re showing us the way to the end?”
“Yes.” Sonson folded his hands in his lap. “You’ll need to cross some perilous land to get there. If we don’t direct you, you might accidentally wander around that area and miss the trial entirely. The animals in that strip of land are not pets.”
“Have your people been through it?” Cayan asked, setting the parchment to the side.
“Some. To become a leader of one of our factions, you need to make it through that land. If you do not aspire to be a leader, you will never be burdened. We’ve lost many teenagers trying to prove a point or show their worth. Bravery, they call it. Children are stupid, and young boys most of all. I have a feeling the hopeful-Chosen wou
ld have found her way down there…”
“It’s a certainty.” Shanti smiled. “I was more stupid than any boy, though I called it bravery. Rohnan, my brother, called it boredom.”
Sonson glanced at Cayan in expectation. He raised his eyebrows in response.
“You’re not going to rise to the bait?” Sonson asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “Not going to say she’s still more stupid than any boy…?”
“He doesn’t have a lot of humor when the people trying to kill him are hanging around,” Shanti laughed, shifting her legs to get more comfortable.
“When do you advise we get moving?” Cayan asked, proving Shanti’s point.
Sonson regained his seriousness. The sparkle of humor in his eyes turned into the gleam of viciousness. “Usually we allow the hopeful-Chosen to dictate his—or her—own pace. But we do not have that luxury in this case. You need to start tomorrow, early. You are being hunted, it seems, by someone besides us. Have no fear. That salve is created with a special blend of ingredients from this wood. It’ll help you heal quickly, though you’ll still be at a disadvantage. If you make it through, you’ll have earned the right to lead our army.”
“I don’t want your army,” Shanti said, the press of her duty settling heavy on her shoulders. “I need your support. I need you with us. You and he need to lead your people, while working with me to lead…”
“The lost,” a woman arranging a spit over the fire said, without looking up. “The lost, the weary, the distraught, and the voiceless. You’ll lead more than any other battle commander, and you will help them triumph and restore justice for all.”
The fire crackled loudly in the silence that followed. The woman glanced up and saw all eyes focused her way, turning her face red. “Forgive me. As well as trying to kill you, I am also on the committee to determine if you are the rightful Chosen. I’ve studied many of the doctrines. They rub off.”
“She’s the life of any party,” Sonson said, laughing.
They spent the rest of the evening chatting quietly and eating, speaking little of the mainland and the strife going on there. Shanti told of her journey, making the group solemn and quiet as they learned what had been entailed in reaching them. Cayan shared a little about his city, laughing as Shanti filled them in about the extreme lack of taste in art.
When the sun left the sky and everyone sat around with full bellies, Sonson rose. He winked down at Shanti before shaking Cayan’s hand. “I would have liked to have fought you. I think it would’ve been impressive entertainment. I would rather you live, of course, so be careful tomorrow. A few hours’ hike will get you to the next trial, and then keep your eyes open. Nothing is as it seems, and strange forces on this island can confuse the brain. We’ll be ready to fight you on the other side.”
“Sir—” a man stepped forward holding Shanti’s sword and a pack.
“Yes, of course.” Sonson took them and placed them next to Shanti on the furs. “The trickery is mostly mental, but as I said, there are some aggressive animals in that area of this island. You’ll need your sword and a few supplies.”
“Thank you for your treatment,” Shanti said in all seriousness. “I didn’t expect this kindness in these trials. I thought I would find the Inkna-Chosen, kill him, then meet my death.”
“You may meet that Inkna-Chosen yet,” Sonson said with the vicious twinkle to his eyes again. “But I hope to find him first. He and his leader are making a mockery of my trials and it does not sit well.” Sonson nodded at her, and then glanced at Cayan. “Good luck.”
When they’d gone, drifting into the trees and fog like phantoms, Cayan moved to sit beside her. He brushed her hair back from her face as he stared at the fire. In a quiet voice, he said, “I can’t help feeling nervous about what we’ll face. It’s different than facing an army. I know men—I know the way they think and the way they lead. But nature is unpredictable, at best, and… I don’t need any help confusing my mind.”
“If their leaders can make it through, we can make it through, Cayan,” Shanti said, closing her eyes as his fingers wound through her hair. “Men are unpredictable at the best of times, led by emotions they often have no control over. Nature is brutal but beautiful—it gives more than it rips away. We have to read her motives, and steer clear of her cleansing. We’ll be fine.”
Shanti almost believed it.
Chapter Thirteen
Shanti stepped over a patch of weed with long, spiky thorns. Tree branches reached, just as before, and the rain drifted down from the sky in a soft caress, but land was quickly running out. Shanti took no more than ten paces and pushed back her hood, looking down a steep slide that ended in huge and jagged rocks at the bottom of a deep ravine.
“We need to find a way across,” Cayan said from beside her. He glanced straight ahead and then off to the right.
Shanti did the same. The far side, crammed with trees huddled close together and strewn with hanging vines, was at least twenty-five paces away. The depth of the ravine was twice that. The winding, tree-choked edge appeared to go on forever before disappearing into the white mass of rolling, shifting fog.
Shanti wiped her face. They’d been walking at a pace that could almost have been called a jog since first light, pausing every now and then to consult the map. They’d believed Sonson when he said they were running out of time—his mind had been laced with anxiety. Cayan worried for his people. If the Graygual were sending people into the trials after her, they were certainly sending people into the city to eliminate any support she might have.
“Right or left?” Shanti asked, glancing at the parchment in Cayan’s hands.
He handed her one side and traced his finger along a red line that marked the path they’d been following. The red line stopped where they were and met a blue line running along the edge. Cayan followed it to the left until it once again went north, and then glanced right, finally tapping the line on the right side. “This is the fastest way. Which also means it is probably the most deadly.”
“Do we have time to play it safe?”
Cayan took the map and folded it. He tucked it into his makeshift pack and looked up at the sky, eyes fluttering in the drizzle. “On one hand, the Shadow people now know the kind of enemy they face. They’ll expect an attack by the Graygual on my people. Within the city, they’ll make sure they’re there to stop any bloodshed. Sanders will run at an adversary without flinching at impossible odds, but he’s no fool, and I trust he has control of those under him. He’ll keep within sight of the Shadow so he can’t be overwhelmed, and Daniels will make sure they aren’t ambushed.”
“And on the other hand?”
Cayan shifted before wiping his face. He turned to Shanti with troubled blue eyes. “On the other hand, Sonson didn’t think we had much time. Not we, you and me. We—all of us. His body language was confident. He thought we’d make it through this. I bet he’s counting on us to help fight what’s coming. Which means it’s coming rapidly. We’re just two, but we have the power of six or more.”
“Of eighteen or more Inkna.”
Cayan’s lips tweaked, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he looked beyond her down the edge. “We’ve not shirked from a challenge so far…”
“I like challenges,” she said in a dry voice. “I get suspicious when things are too easy.”
“How are your wounds?”
“Amazingly not bothering me.” Shanti slipped through the trees, pulling up her hood as the drops turned heavy. “They have excellent healers.”
“As soon as we kill all the Graygual, we’ll have to get Marc talking with them. Hopefully they have lots of patience.”
“Or are willing to kick him in the head to make him pay attention.”
“Or that… yes.”
They walked in silence for a while, careful not to touch any hanging vines or stumble into any unidentified plants with needles. There was no telling what might be dangerous here. After half an hour, as the sun was approaching its zenith, Shanti c
aught sight of a long, narrow bridge leading across the large gap in the land. She stepped toward the ledge and exhaled out a “Flak.”
Cayan stepped with her. He let out a breath too.
The bridge was nothing more than a large tree slit down the middle, laying from one side to the other. The top was flat, mostly; but shiny with wet, probably slippery, and half rotted in parts.
“How much more than Sonson would you say I weigh?” Cayan asked in a low voice.
“You’re taller by a head, much more robust, and solid muscle—at least two stone. You outweigh him by a lot.” Shanti started untying the rope from around her middle. “And now we know why he gave us very strong rope.”
“Let’s hope he also gave us very long rope.”
“Yes.” Shanti started forward again, heart starting to beat more rapidly. When they got to the edge of the log, once a great thing but now a brittle remnant of what it once was, Shanti hesitated.
The world fell away. Straight down on both sides of the edge, the ground below was so distant it was hard to see through the fog. Falling would mean certain death.
She leaned forward to touch the wood, turned deep brown from years of being exposed to the elements. As she suspected, the top was slick. At the base it was twice as wide as her body, but as it neared the middle it slimmed down. A sudden gust of wind and she’d be falling. When she reached the end of the rope, she’d be yanked back toward the side and dashed across the rock face.
Shanti looked behind them, seeing the old and weathered stump that this log originally came from. The sides were cut. This bridge had been planned.
“There are big trees everywhere—why choose a place where falling would mean grave injury even with a rope?”
She rolled her eyes at her statement. This was a rite of passage and the Shadow were a hard people—failure to them meant death for themselves, or others.
“We’ll be fine, mesasha.” Cayan’s fingers stroked the side of her face as he took the rope. “You’re light on your feet and have excellent balance. You’ll be across in no time.”