Everything had gone fine until they had taken the game outside. Ranispara shook those memories away and concentrated on her interrogation. Gregori hit the water struggling against gravity.
His limbs struck out in all directions in an uncoordinated jumble as he sank. Spluttering, Gregori shouted some nonsense about drowning. His protests gave her plenty of time to gain her feet.
“Why did you do it?” Ranispara applied her boot to Gregori’s chest and pressed down with all her weight.
Gregori spat out water after a wavelet rolled over his head. “I can’t swim!”
She rolled her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know like why you kidnapped Sarn. What has the Kid ever done to deserve it?”
Gregori grasped her ankle to shove her off him, but she had the advantage.
“Let him up, please. You’ve made your point,” Inari pleaded.
Ranispara glanced at her friend over her shoulder. During all the drama, the boys had vacated their rooftop perch, and Inari had corralled them. Both of Ranispara’s nephews stood slack-jawed and agog.
Nerule tried to pry his mother’s hand away from his eyes. While not pitch-black like his father, Nerule’s skin was the color of a good varnish. From his light-skinned saint of a mother, he'd inherited large, curious mahogany eyes. And one of those eyes stared at her from between his mother’s long fingers.
Ranispara had planned to interrogate her husband alone, but now she had an audience to consider. Perhaps it was time to revise her plan.
“I had to do it. Don’t you see?” Gregori said between coughs. He spat more water out, but his struggles had all but ceased. Maybe he’d noticed the water came only to her knee.
“No I don’t see, and you’d better make me, or I’ll let you drown. I swear it.” Ranispara glared at her husband, letting her anger show. Under it lay other things, strong currents of conflicting emotions but they had no place here. She laid a hand over the tangled mess throbbing where her heart should be and grimaced.
“No, you won’t.”
Jerlo had an uncanny way of knowing what went on in and around Mount Eredren. Or he had a network of skilled spies.
She had expected him to drop in at some point. Later would have suited her better, but Jerlo operated on his own timetable. One he never deviated from no matter how much it vexed his subordinates.
“I did say I would handle this. I said so this morning. But with all the stress and worry clouding your mind, accidents happen. This is an accident—one you’ll rectify, correct?”
Ranispara threw an angry glance at her boss. Jerlo caught and held her gaze then dipped his chin once. His features had more fox in them now, and the fox stood ready to pounce. Perhaps he’d slept a bit since this morning.
She’d lost this round. Time to hand her husband over to a higher authority, one who’d promised to make him pay for this outrage. Ranispara removed her boot from her husband’s chest, slapped both hands on his head and pushed. He’d better expect a fight when Jerlo finished with him.
Ranispara splashed her way out of the river slapping the posts anchoring the dock on her way. Inari met her on shore with Nerule in tow. Since no one had paid them any mind, her nephews had stayed to witness the end of the show.
Nolo pelted across the beach. “Where is he?” Nolo demanded as he hauled Gregori up.
“Not here.” Gregori coughed, spat more water, then coughed some more.
“We know.” Jerlo clasped both hands behind his back and regarded the sky.
Incensed, Ranispara jabbed her thumb into her chest. “You’ll let him rough my husband up? I’ve earned the right to do it myself.”
Beside her, Inari covered her son’s eyes and retreated. Her face betrayed her dilemma. Should she let Nerule watch an interrogation his father conducted? Or should she take her son back to the mountain and miss hearing the reason behind all this drama. She too had a soft spot for Sarn. They all did except for Gregori. Over the years, Sarn had invaded their hearts becoming more than an indentured servant.
“Who said anything about roughing him up?” Jerlo’s brow quirked up.
Nolo glanced at the commander, and his face reflected the same surprise poleaxing Ranispara. Her lips flapped for a moment then angry words poured out of her.
“But we have to. We need to know where Sarn is. And he’s the only one who knows.”
“Is he?” Jerlo turned on his heel gesturing for Gregori to follow.
“You know?” Ranispara shouted right over Nolo’s protestations.
Jerlo halted, shaking his head while she and Nolo pelted him with questions and accusations. The commander's shoulders bowed under the weight until he cut them off.
“Of course, I didn’t know. I found out when you did about this mess.”
Jerlo’s remark caught them both off guard. The lapping of the river sounded too loud in the sudden silence.
“We need to know where he is.” Nolo spread his hands wide in entreaty.
“Yes, we need to go get him,” Ranispara seconded. She moved to stand closer to Nolo but stalled out halfway there. Her trajectory would have taken her too close to the dripping source of her ire.
“Why? The Kid’s fine. He’s making his way back here while we stand around jawing.” Gregori rubbed water from his face with his hands. Every drop he removed dribbled back into place thanks to his wet hair. Turning, he made eye contact with each of them. “The Kid is a bit of a retard, yes, but his eyes aren’t decorative. There’s potent stuff in him. And we won’t find out what’s behind the glow if we don’t throw him to the wolves and see what happens.”
“You didn’t—” Ranispara stopped, appalled at the implications.
Gregori tossed his wife an evil grin. “Maybe I did.”
Gregori’s head snapped back as Nolo hit him with a right cross. Her husband wobbled but stayed on his feet without any aid from Nolo.
“You better not have.”
Gregori rubbed his chin and gave his friend a look of respect. “Relax, I didn't involve any wolves. I swear it.”
“Tell us what you did with him,” Ranispara said as she uncurled her fists. They needed answers, not more fisticuffs.
“I gave him a nice long walk to think about things. Maybe it’ll improve his attitude.”
“What did you say to him?” Nolo enunciated each word and hurled them at Gregori.
“Nothing, he had a good nap and woke to find himself alone in the enchanted forest. If his sixth sense is as good as you think, he’ll arrive soon. If he headed in the right direction,” Gregori shrugged.
“Enough.” Jerlo chopped a hand through the air. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”
“But a search party—” Nolo said at the same time as Ranispara made a similar suggestion.
Jerlo shook his head, and regret creased his face. “We still don’t know where to look.” He raised his voice to talk over his lieutenants. “And I’ll bet he doesn’t know either.” Jerlo nodded to Gregori.
“But he must.” Flabbergasted at the direction the conversation had taken, Ranispara took a step toward Jerlo. Gregori had to know.
“Do you? Tell me true. Did you pay any attention at all to where you left the Kid?”
Gregori stood there for a moment, mouth agape. As realization sank in, he blinked a few times and shook his head.
“Exactly, he stopped the boat somewhere, got out, deposited the Kid, then set sail back here.”
“How did you know?” Gregori asked.
Jerlo ran a hand over the frizz ball standing in for hair. “Because I know you. I’ll bet you boarded the first outbound vessel you found without checking the manifest. Paytor is a good man and an even better harbormaster. He was in his office the entire time with you. You had no opportunity to glance at his logs.” Jerlo’s lips quirked then flattened back out to their customary line. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Face flushed from embarrassment, Gregori nodded. “How did you kn
ow?”
“As I said before, I know you, and I know how you act. Your impulsivity is your downfall. Now, come along. I have a punishment to mete out.” Jerlo glanced at his second in command, then at Ranispara reading their intent.
Ranispara stood rigid as a pole. She refused to leave this beach until Sarn returned safe and sound. Nolo folded his arms over his chest and looked about as ready to budge as Mount Eredren itself. No doubt, Jerlo read their determination.
“Good, you two organize watchers. I want eyes round the clock on the forest. Keep watch on the southeast. The Kid will come from there.” Jerlo’s lips twitched again, but no smile appeared. “I did check the manifest after you reported to me. Rumor claims Captain Argin’s a smuggler. I read an illuminating report about a suspected landing thirty or so miles southeast of here. I’m betting Gregori offloaded there.”
“We should fetch Sarn,” Nolo said.
“You think the Kid is waiting around for rescue? The brat learned early to fend for himself. No, he got moving the instant he realized what’d happened.” Jerlo shook his head. “If it’ll make you feel better, send out patrols. But they won’t find him unless he wants to be found. No, the next move is his. All we can do is wait and see how he plays it. We’ve got no other choice right now.”
Ranispara knew the commander was right, but it galled her to admit it. One glance at Nolo’s tense body and his clenched teeth proved he felt likewise. As much as she wanted to argue the point, she had nothing to gain by it. So she let it go and turned her gaze southeast to the forest, banishing her husband and her boss from her sight. Doubt niggled at her. Would Sarn return or had Gregori’s betrayal destroyed his trust?
“I don’t like it.” Nolo unfolded his arms. Turning, he faced southeast and let his troubled gaze roam over the enchanted forest. He started as the Queen of All Trees showed herself. White light flowed from her making the concentric circles of menhirs gleam before she vanished into the distant tree line.
“Neither do I,” Jerlo said, jolting Nolo back to the conversation at hand. The commander gave no hint of whether he’d seen the Queen of All Trees. “But it’s what we’re stuck with.”
“You’re using this to test him. You won’t authorize a search because you don’t think he’ll come back.” The words flew out of Nolo’s mouth before he could stop them.
A flash of silver moved amid forestry too dense for the dying sun’s rays to pierce and his heart caught. Was the Queen of All Trees also searching for Sarn? Oh God no. Leave the Kid alone. He belongs here. If she heard his silent injunctions, she gave no sign.
“I don’t know what goes on in that boy’s head.” Jerlo turned away from the forest and the conversation.
“Nothing good I’d wager,” Gregori grunted.
“Not true.” Ranispara turned, shaking her head.
“I agree with Ranispara,” Inari said, speaking for the first time. “He’s got a good heart, and he made a promise. He'll be back. You haven’t seen the last of him.”
“We’ll see. For now, you and I need to have a chat.” Jerlo gave Gregori a look, which had caused sterner men to quake. He gestured for the larger man to follow, and took his leave.
Nolo regarded the forest. Had he imagined seeing the Queen of All Trees? The forest tangling on both sides of the river seemed darker without her and hostile. He recoiled from it. Somewhere out there, Sarn worked his way back here, slogging one mile at a time. Did Sarn think himself abandoned? All the trust Nolo had built now threatened to collapse, and he could do nothing to stop it.
“What now?” Ranispara moved to stand beside him.
Nolo glanced at her. Had she seen the Queen of All Trees? If she had, she hid it well.
“Is there any leeway in his High-and-Mighty’s orders?”
“There’s always leeway.”
“You want to point it out for me? My head’s still spinning.”
Before Nolo could answer, Ranispara caught her fleeing nephews by their ears.
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back. There’s something I need to deal with.” She escorted her nephews behind the Harbormaster’s office for an overdue chat.
“He’s coming back,” Nerule said.
The boy had met Sarn on many occasions. An illiterate, unskilled youth recovering from ten broken bones had limited uses. Babysitting a small child had been just the thing to keep Sarn occupied.
“It might not be up to him,” Nolo heaved a sigh then turned to face his son. “What are you doing down here?”
“What do you mean by that?” Inari rested her hands on their son’s shoulders.
Nolo shook his head. They hadn’t seen the Queen of All Trees. They didn’t know about her interest in Sarn. A shudder tore through Nolo in memory, and he mashed his lips into a thin line walling himself off from his wife and child. In response, Inari’s whole manner hardened, but she remained silent.
Ignoring the cold war between his parents, Nerule held up a spyglass. “Keeping watch for Sarn. He’ll come back.”
Would he? Nolo wasn’t certain.
Chapter 9
Sarn raced west by northwest, guided by his head map and a strong tug on his heart toward his son. As he ran, the sack of All-fruit beat a muffled tattoo on his back narrowing his world to the ground in front of him and the battle behind him. Nothing else mattered.
Threading his way through a vanishing gap, Sarn sped up, breaking into an all-out run. What the hell was the forest doing now? Were there more of those corrupted trees ahead? Two trees sidled toward each other, but he slid between them, turning sideways to fit. Why would they hamper his progress now? He had miles to run before he'd reach Mount Eredren and there was no one else out here except him, the ghost and the damned mystery which kept growing in scope.
“Get out of my way!” Sarn shouted as he veered to miss another tree scuttling on its roots right into his path.
The ground angled upward, and loose rocks cropped up with enough frequency to trip him. Forced to slow, he cursed the delay. Another tree snaked its trunk between two of its neighbors, weaving a wall. Skidding to a halt, Sarn glared at the trees blocking his path.
“Let me pass!” he shouted at them, but there was no reaction, not even a twitch of a leaf. “I have to reach my son.”
Sarn pounded his fists into their trunks, but they refused to budge. Creaking behind him signaled they’d cut off his escape. Roots scraped the leaf mold aside revealing a dirt surface. They beckoned, inviting him to come closer. When Sarn hesitated, a root scratched a symbol in the earth.
Sarn stared at proof of the forest’s intelligence. A mind drove this display but was it a hive mind or did each tree have a mind of its own? Was he about to receive answers to the questions he’d posed earlier?
The ghost pointed at the symbols, agitated by their presence. Sarn sighed. He might as well play along until he could escape. Maybe he’d learn something useful.
“What is this?” Sarn pointed to the first symbol.
In answer to his question, the roots wiped out their earlier drawing and redrew it. Sarn regarded the broken circles but failed to make anything of them.
“What does this mean?”
In answer, the roots traced something on the periphery. But without more precise tools, the addition made no sense. Sarn gave up asking when every question ended in the same result, the roots stabbing at a bunch of incomplete circles.
Annoyed at the delay, Sarn stood. He had to stay ahead of whatever had corrupted those trees, or he’d never reach his son. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me and I don’t have time to find out. Let me pass.”
Whirling, the ghost boy lobbed a rock between their sylvan jailors. Sarn scanned the shadows, but this time, no rats, roaches or other vermin populated them. Maybe the ghost was just frustrated with his lack of progress.
The north facing trees winched themselves closer together. Sarn checked his head map. The River Nirthal lay to the north, and s
o did Mount Eredren. Four red icons blossomed on his map. Sarn dove to the side as a branch stabbed the spot where he’d just stood. A tar-like substance oozed out of the cracks in its bark as the corrupted tree wiggled its trapped bough, but the earth held fast to it.
Sick, commented his magic.
Tell me something I don't know like why this is happening.
As usual, his magic clammed up. Sarn put the question aside for now.
A gut-churning wrongness was leaking out of his attacker and seeping into the ground—not a good sign. Behind it, three more infected trees lumbered up. The enchanted trees barring his path sparred with them without shifting locations. Damn them.
Sarn tried to squeeze past his captors, but it was too late. The infection had spread to the ground under him, and it spawned grabby hands. Dodging them, he searched for a way out.
He had to get out of there before that infection infected him too. And it would. That crap was gunning for him. Turning, Sarn spotted a narrow gap on the west side. He slid through it and took off in a dead run up an incline. But the corruption shot through the earth liquefying it under his feet. Sarn leaped.
A wet tentacle seized his ankle, but he leaned into the fall, throwing his weight forward. His hands struck a boulder and catapulted him up and over. Momentum snapped his attacker’s grip. His hands found another stone, and he pushed off it, exploding into a series of round-offs. Midway across the brook, he twisted mid-air and caught a glimpse of a faceless giant made of mud right before he tucked and tumbled. His head map plugged into his hands guiding them to the next stone jutting out of the swift-moving water.
Sarn landed on the far side and vomited as the wrongness behind him spiked. The mud creature dove, angling under the brook’s bed. But Sarn was already running for the River Nirthal.
Curse Breaker_Enchanted [The More Epic Version] Page 10