Jade buttoned the top of her coat and dodged a thick branch that Victor skirted around. He was so much more graceful in his movements than she could ever hope to be. He carried himself with ease amongst nature, whereas Jade found herself tripping on sticks and getting caught on brambles. Never before had she realized how much she loved the engine room with its clean spaces, everything polished and put in its place. Nothing like the give of vegetation under her boots, the clinging webs of spiders, or the pungent scent of snapped branches.
“Hey, Victor?” Jade pushed down the satisfaction that her voice didn’t sound as tired as she felt. “I just had a thought.”
The shadow of the evergreen towering above them obscured his features, but a patch of sunlight silhouetted his knife-like form as he paused ahead of her. “What’s that?”
“What if what we’re looking for has deteriorated?” Jade gestured at the babbling stream to her right. “There’s so much moisture here, so much life, that unless the sage built his retreat out of stone or brick, there’s no way it could last out here. All the building material readily available would need maintenance. Wood, thatch, it would rot. And this is supposed to be where one of the seven sages would hide away to work. He was alive, what, sixty years ago? Nothing could last that long here.”
She caught up to him, and he settled his hands on his hips, pivoting slowly on his heel. “Good thought.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “He was one of the seven sages, so he was extremely powerful. What if he used mani-magic to protect it from decay?” He stroked his goatee. “Or what if he used mani-magic to hide it from prying eyes?”
Jade groaned. “Don’t even suggest such a horrible thing.”
“It could be possible.”
“I’m not going to dwell on that idea. If that’s true, we could’ve passed it already.” She tugged off her gloves and her hat, and tucked both into her belt so she could re-braid her hair. “Poor father, he was hoping so badly that this lead would actually pay off. He’s running out of time before the anniversary.”
“Maybe it will.” Victor shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see.” He beckoned for her to follow. “We’ve still got an hour to get farther in before we have to turn around. It smells like snow, so we don’t want to waste any time.”
Each tree looked like the last, but Victor pushed on with the quiet, calm skill of someone who’d spent years in such terrain. He didn’t hesitate or dawdle, but somehow found the firm ground, the easiest of the brush to break through, the hidden deer trails. Twice, they each spotted something in the distance that looked out of the ordinary, and twice they discovered it to be just a trick of the eye.
Maybe the rumors of the sage’s sanctuary were really just that: rumors.
Despite the guys’ banter earlier, Jade didn’t care if Geist was upset about being left behind for this mission. They had to find the sage’s house. He was the only lead they currently had, and if he didn’t have a totem, an artifact, or some sort of manuscript or clue on how to fix the keystone, what hope did they have? Her father had been searching for a method ever since the keystone had been attacked so many years ago, and he had run every lead to ground. Something had to pan out. Eventually.
Jade snapped a branch in her way as she followed Victor through the forest. What if this was another dead end? What would her father do? She tossed the branch with a grimace. What would she do? Things on board hadn’t been getting any better. It felt like the older she got, the more constrictive her father had become. She’d never be free to do what she wished while under his shadow.
Never mind Zak’s newfound over-protectiveness.
Relief coursed through Jade when Victor interrupted her brooding to announce it time to head back. Others may have found the scenery soothing, but after parting ways with Zak, she couldn’t shake her disquiet. Whatever had climbed into his gearbox and died shouldn’t be her concern. But something had changed in their dynamic, and it rankled. After last summer, they’d grown closer. Not in any specific way, but they spent more time together. He’d come to the engine room to talk with her and Krista. He let her keep watch with him and he’d point out constellations in the night sky. He shared fond memories of his older brother, Zane.
She could count on him to be there at any time, with an encouraging word, snarky quip, or just to lend an ear. He was her faithful shadow.
She hadn’t even realized how close they’d become till he cut her off that one night. Stopped coming by the engine room, turned her away for his shift, barely talked to her. Yet he was still there—watching. Stepping in and helping occasionally. Protecting her before she had a chance to protect herself.
And now he had the propensity to treat her like a baby bird that had fallen from its nest.
“What is his problem, anyway?” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.
Victor jerked to a stop halfway across a log and tilted his head at her. “I beg your pardon?”
Her cheeks heated, and she waved at him to keep moving. Could she ask him his opinion on the whole thing? She eyed him as he moved on, adjusting his cap snug over his bare head while he walked. He didn’t come across as someone who had any close friendships, let alone family. But everyone had friends to some degree, so maybe he could offer insight in that arena? She groaned.
“Have you noticed anything…different, in how Zak has been acting toward me?”
Victor turned around, hand on his hip, and batted his eyelashes at her. “Do I look like Krista to you?”
She stuck her tongue out and pushed past him. “Never mind.”
He caught up and laughed. “Sorry, it was too easy.”
They lapsed into silence that was broken only by the rustling of bushes and the snap of twigs as they forged through the underbrush. She could feel Victor’s eyes on her, and when she threw him a pointed look, he offered a half smile.
“I have observed some changes in his behavior toward you, yes.”
So she wasn’t crazy! And Krista wasn’t making a big deal out of nothing. Not if one of the busiest men on board had noticed that there was a change.
Jade broke a lone branch out of the way of her face and snapped the wood in her hands. “Any ideas as to why?”
“Who knows? Humans are stupid.”
“Funny,” Jade deadpanned. “I was hoping for more of a reason than that.”
“Seriously, I don’t know.” Victor shrugged. “Maybe someone warned him away from being too close to the captain’s daughter?”
Jade wrinkled her nose. “Who would do that? And why?” The telltale heat of a blush exploded across her cheeks, and she glanced away. “If anything, someone would warn me away. He’s of noble blood. I’m…me.”
“Monomi are disgraced, so I’d say you’re on the same level with him.” Victor paused and raised a single eyebrow. “Besides, isn’t your father a noble? You’re noble, too.”
“True.” Jade shrugged one shoulder “But he walked away from that life, so I don’t really think about it. It’s not like I’ve ever really been to court, except for day visits. I mean, I guess I’ve been to a few social noble gatherings, but they aren’t my scene.” She looked away, a bitter taste in her mouth. “And what little I’ve had with anything in the regard of royalty hasn’t been pleasant.”
Victor didn’t say anything, and she hastened to add, “But, like you said, the Monomi haven’t been a part of the noble life for nearly twenty years, so…” Jade trailed off before stating firmly, “He’s noble, but not in the bad way.”
A puff of vapor lingering in the air showed Victor’s huffed laugh, even though she didn’t hear it. Jade plucked at a thorn that snagged in her pant leg, and she chewed her bottom lip. “Do you really think that could be the reason he’s suddenly so distant?”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps he views you as family to be protected. I don’t know, Jade. He’s not exactly one to discuss his deep, dark secrets.”
This wasn’t going anywhere that would soothe her mind. Sh
e had to change the subject. “Do you have any?”
“Have any what?”
“Family. Secrets.” Jade twitched her shoulder. “You’ve been on the Sapphire for half a year, and you don’t talk about yourself much. We’ve got at least an hour to kill as we head back, so…what about you?”
Victor didn’t say anything, and Jade bit her lip. Had she insulted him somehow? Was he mad at her? It probably was rude of her to ask about secrets. Oh, whales, I blundered this, didn’t I?
“I grew up near the border,” he said finally.
Jade perked up. “Really? What was that like?”
Victor smiled bitterly. “Like nothing you could ever imagine.” He lifted his face to the patchy canopy of needled leaves overhead and breathed in deeply. “It was different than here, more isolated. Cleaner.”
“In what way?” Jade asked, curious.
His lips twitched, and he rubbed his thumb against his jaw. “I also was an only child.” He rested his palm against a fallen log that came up to his chin and looked back at her. “Once I was older, I traveled extensively, learning various trades here and there. And now I’m with your crew.”
“Hauling cargo and chasing myths.” Jade shook her head. “I’m sure you had more fun on other adventures than on missions like this.”
Victor’s eyes glittered. “Oh, I’ve had many jobs before this one, some more enjoyable than others. This work falls under the category of amusing. It’s been surprisingly satisfying to follow your father across Terrene, helping him to search for whatever could help the keystone.” He squatted and knit his fingers together and nodded toward the log. “I’m taller than you, and this thing’s taller than me. Let me give you a boost.”
She settled her boot in his hand hold and narrowed her eyes at the top of the log. Icy moss covered every visible inch. She’d have to get a solid grip so she wouldn’t fall. He lifted without warning, and her fingers scrambled across the soft green for traction. She hoisted herself onto the log and straddled it to watch Victor haul himself up with little effort.
“What abou—” she fell silent when he lifted his hand, eyes wide. She followed his gaze, hope flaring in her chest before it sputtered out again.
No sign of a sage sanctuary, sage house, or sage anything.
A herd of plodders moved perpendicular to the path that Jade and Victor were taking. Jade counted five of the herbivores as they ambled through the trees. Bright red plates with mottled green and yellow lined their backs all the way to the tips of their tails, and she could barely see their narrow heads as they poked down at the bushes.
Victor crouched on the log, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He leaned toward Jade, and she twisted closer to hear him.
“We’ll stay here until they pass. No sudden movements.”
She nodded. While peaceful, if spooked, a plodder could kill a man with a single swipe of its plated tail. And if they used their ability to manipulate heat and make the spikes on their tails burning hot? As a girl on the Sapphire, she’d seen a crewmember return from a mission mangled and burned beyond comprehension by an angry plodder. While it wasn’t the first grisly sight she’d witnessed, she’d never been able to get it out of her mind. There was no desire in her body to disagree with Victor’s wisdom.
The forest darkened around them as she waited for Victor to signal for them to continue moving. At this point, the guys were probably already back at the buggy. Would they be worried yet? Had they found something and forgotten to use the flares?
What about her father’s team? Had their years roaming southern Terrene, searching for clues to fix her father’s number one regret, finally come to an end?
A boom thundered overhead, and pine needles rained down onto Jade and Victor. She looked up just long enough to see the streaks of an orange flare, and then a bleating roar ripped her attention to the plodders before them.
“Bleeding whales,” Jade swore, horror rippling through her skin.
Victor drew his sword. “Stay on your feet. Try not to be seen. And don’t let them hit you.”
Jade watched as the group of dragons spread into a star shape in the undergrowth, their heads in the center, tails thrashing the surrounding sparse vegetation. She slid her sword out of its sheath silently. Should they jump back behind the log? They’d be blind to the dragons then, and the plodders were huge—they’d likely just break right through it.
One turned its head from the center and looked back, its beady black eyes staring right at her. It roared, and the others swiveled their heads to look at her.
Victor swore. “Run!”
Chapter Three
Slate
Captain Slate Stohner used the flat of his sword to push away a leafless thorn branch for his following crew member. He glanced over his shoulder at Ash, who nearly blended in with the shadowed part of the forest they were trekking through, and his teeth shone white against his darker skin when he smiled his thanks.
“Don’t lose hope, sir. We’ve still got an hour before we need to head back.”
Slate sighed and let the branch snap back into place. “An hour that’s rapidly fading.”
Ash shook his head. “We’ve still got half a zone to search. We may yet find something.”
Doubt held Slate’s reply behind his teeth. What good would it do to talk about it? What mattered was finding the sage’s house. The sage himself was long dead from when he’d helped erect the barrier, but perhaps he’d left something behind. A scroll with instructions or clues, an artifact that a mani-med could identify, some sort of something that Slate could use.
It was his fault that the keystone was weakened. He couldn’t let another decade go by without doing anything about it. He had to fix the problem now, before it was too late. Before the barrier fell. Before everything they had died for was wasted.
I won’t let your death be in vain, Sapphire.
Slate motioned for Ash to lead and waited for the taller dragon hunter to pass by. The possibility of finding the sage’s lair was slim to begin with, and the likelihood of him having something useful on hand was even less likely, but Slate had to believe it was possible.
What future did Jade have, if her very existence was threatened by something that he was responsible for? He’d already destroyed her family. And he knew she chafed under his rules and secrets, like a gear that wasn’t sized for its fittings. But he had to protect her, keep her set apart, ready to someday take on the role she was born for.
But that would mean nothing if he couldn’t fix the Doldra keystone.
Slate scanned the underbrush. Everything looked as normal as could be for the Wyld Woods. Dense, uninhabited, the only signs of life being the wildlife typical of a forest. Thankfully, they’d had no dragon sightings—yet.
“Captain.”
Slate jerked to a stop, and his gaze followed the direction that Ash pointed.
It took a minute for Slate’s eyes to settle on the dwelling, which blended seamlessly into the surrounding forest. He lifted his eyebrows, impressed. They could’ve walked right past the house, none the wiser, if it wasn’t for what must’ve caught Ash’s attention—the quiet creak of a door barely hanging on to its frame. The homestead had been clearly built with camouflage in mind, with no unnatural sharp edges or man-made materials. In fact, the only manmade thing that Slate could make out was the rusted hinges.
Ash tapped his sword hilt with a questioning frown, and Slate nodded. They drew their blades and crept toward the dilapidated home.
Anticipation skittered across Slate’s nerves. There was no guarantee that this was the great sage Jace’s home, but no one else had ever lived in the Wyld Woods. They were aptly named, after all. Whose house would this be, if not his?
Soft dirt gave beneath the heel of Slate’s boot as he neared the door. Ash tilted his head, and Slate let out a breath before silently stepping inside the dark home.
He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust, then moved aside for Ash to duck under the doorway and
join him in the cramped room. Moss covered the worn wood beams in the ceiling, and leaves lay strewn about the rotting wood floor. A toppled table and chair were pushed against the wall, and a slashed sleeping pad barely fit in the opposite corner.
“Sparse.” Ash commented from behind Slate’s shoulder. The debris muffled the sound of his boots as he strode across the room and started looking over the bed.
Slate rubbed his thumbnail along the side seam of his pants, indecisive as to where he should start. Was there anything here that would even prove this was Sage Jace’s home? He’d been one of the seven sages to sacrifice himself when magicking-up the barrier over sixty years ago—when none of the sages knew the price of such magic would be their lives.
They’d found this home, so if it was the sage’s, maybe he hadn’t concealed the house or the things inside with magic? Maybe they had a chance of finding something?
An intricately carved whorl above the mantle caught Slate’s eye, and he moved closer, optimism kindling. It matched the book of sages that Sam had found and showed him back at the shipping yards. This was what he needed. This was where he had to be.
The hope that had barely begun to rise in Slate sank as he looked around. Only the wood furniture and various metal bits were left. If there had been any scrolls here, they’d have decomposed by now. They had to hope for a stone or a physical artifact that would last in such moist conditions.
Slate moved his hand across the mantle slowly, feeling for any catch or possible mechanisms that would betray a secret compartment. The smooth wood revealed no secrets. He knelt at the edge of the fireplace, pulled a glow stone from his pocket, and lifted it to see up the chimney. Years of soot and dust lined the rocky opening. He pressed and tried to wiggle each stone, but nothing shifted.
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