Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1)

by Melina Grace

  Crispin was healing well. Under Colden’s excellent care, no infection had set in. The cuts had been deep and he had lost a lot of blood, but the flesh was knitting back together well. Colden was diligent in not allowing Crispin to do any activity that might reopen the wound, but with the painkillers, Jarla gave him regularly, and his constant stream of visitors, Crispin was enjoying his time with the elves.

  Caris was delighted to find that gathering around the fire for the evening meal was not a special occasion but the norm for fine weather. Her evenings were filled with splendid food, songs, and stories. The joy and laughter of the elves was contagious and Caris discovered a love of life and a lightness of spirit, she had never experienced before. She wished she could remain with the elves forever, but a nagging feeling told her that if she did she would be missing out on something.

  Her time with the elves had intensified her desire to see The King. Their stories of him, his character, and exploits, had intrigued her and though some of the things they said sounded impossible to Caris, she desperately wanted to meet him and find out for herself.

  ****

  Janen crouched in the shadow of a tent. The revelling lost people had long since succumbed to sleep, leaving only five on watch. It was a well-lit night and Janen knew that once he broke cover he would be clearly visible to anyone looking his way. There were only three tents between him and the lost ones he had been pursuing.

  Four of the watch sat around a fire close to the exhausted group. They stared into the flames trying to warm themselves against the cold night, rather than walking the perimeter. They will be night blind, unable to see anything in the darkness after staring into the fire. Unfortunately, they are so close to my target it will still be very hard not to gain their attention. I hope they are not too lazy to go to the aid of their friend when he calls.

  Janen heard a faint sound from the other side of the ridge, followed by the unsure voice of the lone lost one, “Hey! Who’s out there?” Two of the grey ones went to investigate the noises; he hoped Kalen would be okay. The other two just waved them away and sat shivering near the fire. Janen couldn’t wait for a better opportunity. He crept from tent to tent and then over to the sleeping lost ones.

  He had no idea which of them had the pendant or where they were keeping it. Hunkering low to the ground, he began to inspect the closest body. He stared at the rags she wore, there is nowhere for her to conceal it! He moved onto the next, and the next, hoping that the lack of pockets, shoes, packs, or anything with a compartment would make it easier to spot the pendant in the first pocket or bag he found. Both the lookouts were sitting with their backs to him but Janen kept glancing their way nervously as he continued his crouching search through the bodies.

  He stepped on some loose stones, causing a crunching noise.

  “What was that?”

  Janen dropped flat behind a sleeping grey person. One of the watch turned to where he had heard the noise. They were only a few paces away. Janen knew there was no way they could fail to see him.

  “Somes one rollth over,” his partner slurred in response. “You’ve been jumpthin at shadows all nights, you’re making me nerthvous.”

  Janen lay on the ground trying to control his shaking as the first man went back to staring at the fire.

  “I’m nervous,” he grumbled. “You know what the dark lord did to that last mob what lost the pendant.

  “No one’s gointh to take the pendant, it’s right there,” slurred the second, gesturing behind him.

  They continued bickering as Janen forced himself up on all fours. He stared around the group, trying to get a clue as to the pendant’s location. To his amazement, he saw it clutched in a hand only two people away. He reached quietly over the top of the closest body and gently tried to remove it from the next one’s hand. His fingers were locked around it.

  Looking at the watch, to make sure they weren’t going to turn, Janen climbed over the lost one that was lying between him and the pendant. He kneeled down and tried to pry the fingers clutching it free. They didn’t give at all. Janen lay down again, putting a body between him and the lookouts.

  He tried to control his shaking but he was so scared he could hardly control his limbs. He tried to think what to do. The pendant was so close! He could even put his hand on it, but he didn’t know how to remove it without waking the man who held it. He lay next to him, gently trying to open his fingers, with no success.

  Finally, without knowing why he did it, he leant over and spoke softly but with definite threat in his tone, into the man’s ear, “Give it to me.”

  He pulled the pendant and the man let go with a whimper. Janen held it in amazement. He was terrified the man would wake. He held his breath as the lost one started moaning and moving around in his sleep. Janen looked over to the watch, expecting them to turn around at any moment.

  “Oh, great lord!” one of them exclaimed covering his ears “They’re at it again.” He stood up, and Janen froze in fear. “I’m going to see what’s taking the others so long.”

  “I’ll come wisth you,” the other slurred.

  They walked out of the camp toward the ridge. Janen’s chest hurt. Finally, he remembered to breathe. Get up! He commanded himself. He somehow found the strength to stand and stumble out of the camp on stiff legs.

  Once back in the dark, on the outskirts of the tents, Janen began to regain control of his thoughts. Fear still filled him, but he concentrated on calming himself and willed his muscles to relax. It was a technique he had learnt hunting. It was easy to clench up in the excitement of the hunt, especially when young, but animals always seemed to sense you when you were like that, so he had learnt to relax his body, becoming more in tune with his surroundings. He ran through the exercises in his mind he had used as a young hunter before blending in with his surroundings had become second nature.

  Feeling calmer, Janen tracked the best route back to Syngar with his eyes, and then set out.

  He reached him safely, only to discover Kalen had not returned. Syngar was a bundle of nerves. Janen handed the pendant to Syngar who took it without looking at it.

  “We never planned how she would know you were safely back,” said Syngar in dismay. Janen was feeling calmer and more confident again.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “The hard part’s over, I’ll go get her.”

  “Why did you say that? Never say that,” Syngar moaned.

  Janen smiled at him and ran off saying, “I never took you for the superstitious kind.”

  He ran in the shadow of the ridge, only slowing as he came within earshot of the lost ones who were still trying to work out why they could hear noises but not see anyone.

  “I’m telling you,” one of them said in a guttural voice, “Sound carries out here. They could be beyond the next ridge, making those noises.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, the ridge would muffle the noise,” another growled.

  “I’m telling you,” the first one said, “we should go and investigate.”

  “And leave the camp unwatched, they could come from the other direction.”

  “They’re not coming from the other direction we can hear them over there!”

  Kalen threw another rock just before Janen tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped, barely muffling a scream. When she saw it was Janen, she punched him in the stomach, causing him to double over.

  “Where is it?” she mouthed, raising her hands in case he couldn’t see her lips. Janen pointed back toward Syngar and they both began to quietly head in that direction.

  They walked the horses away. Though every instinct urged them to gallop, they were fearful the sound would carry through the open night. Janen doubted the watch would be able to hear anything over their own arguments, but there was always the chance. They really had been almost comical in their incompetence and Janen would’ve been tempted to laugh at them if he wasn’t feeling guilty about causing their deaths. He no longer hated them for the danger they had put Caris in, he
had ceased blaming them. He could feel nothing toward them but pity.

  Kalen, Syngar, and Janen had decided that once they retrieved the pendant they would flee south. Returning the way they had come would just be too obvious, and Kalen said she knew a trail through the jungles to the southwest that would save days on their return to The King. They would be gone too long to worry about attempting to reunite with the others from The King’s Horse. “When we didn’t return after a few days, Bonny would’ve continued south to take news to The King,” she said.

  The small party tried to stick to larger rocks, so as not to leave any hoof marks behind in the dirt. Janen was chafing to kick Prince into a gallop and put as much space between him and the lost ones as possible, but he restrained himself.

  Finally, they decided they had gone far enough and started to canter. The plan was to go as far as they could before daybreak, so there was no point in pushing the horses too fast in the beginning.

  They were walking the horses when the sun came up. Reining in, they turned to look back. There was no sign of pursuit. The threesome pushed on until the heat became intense, and then came to a halt. There was no sign of water or shade anywhere, and their skins were fast nearing empty. The tired companions unsaddled the horses, leaving them to gain whatever moisture they could from the tough clumps of grass. They had been heading in a southeasterly direction but the forest was still out of sight.

  “We will need to find water tonight,” said Syngar. “Maybe we should turn east and make our way south through the forest.”

  Kalen shook her head. “I will not know how to find the trail I seek from there. There is water south of here. The land remains rocky but it is less hostile and there are creeks. I am hoping to find the Gailer River. We can follow it southeast to the forest and the trail that joins with the southern end of The King’s road.”

  “Let’s hope we find it before long,” Syngar replied. He pulled out his roll and lay down on top of it. Janen and Kalen followed his example. The heat beat down on them mercilessly, and Janen thought he would almost rather be riding. But it is better for the horses this way.

  He lay for a while contemplating the fact that they had retrieved the pendant. It didn’t feel real. They had not had time to rejoice over it, and were not secure in the knowledge that they wouldn’t yet be caught. He thought it unlikely that the lost ones would catch them. Even if they had found their trail immediately and followed it night and day, they would not be able to catch up with horses in the open. He was more concerned about who else the Dark One might send to attack them. He was thankful Kalen had plenty of her lavender coloured salve left.

  “Can I see it?” He asked Syngar pushing himself up on one elbow. Syngar fished the pendant out of a pocket he had sewn to the inside of his shirt, and passed it reverently to Janen.

  Janen lay back inspecting it. He had never seen an object more beautiful. Made entirely of gold, and set with a large deep red ruby, it shone in the sun. Turning it around and around in his hands he examined it in awe. Finally, he leaned over to return it to Syngar.

  “Keep it, its burning a hole in my pocket.”

  Janen considered, but could think of nowhere safe enough. “You keep it,” he said, “I don’t have any pockets sewn inside my shirts.”

  Syngar grunted and took it, before laying back to bake in the sun.

  When the sun went down, they set out again, travelling all night without finding any sign of moisture.

  It was dawn when Janen heard the sound of water rushing over rocks. The tired horses broke into a canter without any encouragement from their riders. Cresting a low ridge, they looked down at a shallow river rushing along in front of them. The horses cantered down the slope, not stopping until their front feet were in the water where they came to an abrupt halt that almost threw Janen forward over Princes neck.

  Janen laughed for joy and climbed down from his back. He lay down next to the river and stuck his mouth into the water taking huge gulps. The water was icy cold. He forced himself to stop drinking then stood and pulled the protesting Prince away. Syngar and Kalen were laughing as they did the same with their mounts. Syngar’s horse refused to obey him, and Syngar ended up in the water trying to push him back.

  “Move, dumb animal, or you’ll be sick.”

  Syngar was managing to stop his horse from drinking but was getting saturated in the process. Janen and Kalen stood back laughing at the spectacle. Concern for Syngar’s still healing wound finally prompted Kalen’s intervention. She handed her horse’s reins to Janen and grabbing the reins of Syngar’s horse, helped him to pull his thirsty mount away from the water.

  “We’ll walk the horses downstream in the water, to throw off anyone who’s following us,” said Kalen.

  They mounted up, but as Kalen and Syngar started downstream, Janen steered Prince up the muddy bank on the opposite side. Kalen and Syngar stopped to see what he was doing.

  “I’ll join you in a moment,” he called to them, disappearing over the crest of the bank. He walked Prince until he reached dry ground and a little farther, allowing some of the mud to fall off his hooves. Then, he turned and retraced his steps to the water.

  He looked back up the hill. It was obvious to him, looking at the hoof prints what he had done, but as far as he knew, none of the Dark One’s servants knew much about horses. If they were being tracked, they might not realise that there were only two sets of tracks heading east instead of three and that one of them was going in the wrong direction.

  “Might work,” Syngar said, when Janen caught up with him.

  They rode through the shallow water, arms tired and aching from the constant need to hold up the horses’ heads. Eventually the heat of the day became too much. They allowed their horses to drink again and submerged themselves in the water, before leading their mounts up the steep bank. With clothes wet and cool, they fell into an uneasy sleep.

  ****

  One afternoon towards the end of Caris’ stay with the elves, Amarin put some food into a small basket and invited Caris to walk with her. She led Caris along branches and around trees, along a route Caris had never ventured before. Eventually they reached a magnificent tree, half as wide again as the others.

  Caris had gained a lot more confidence in navigating the tall trees since her first few days among the elves, but as Amarin began to ascend a rope ladder up the wide trunk Caris had to push down a rising spurt of fear. Amarin smiled back at Caris’ discomfort and, taking a deep breath, Caris followed her, refusing to think about the return descent.

  They climbed a long way. Caris’ arm and leg muscles were burning well before they passed the surrounding treetops, but still they continued to climb. Eventually Amarin stepped off the rope ladder and onto a branch. Caris followed her, dismayed to note that it was only one pace wide. Keeping her eyes focused on Amarin’s back Caris followed her out along the branch to a small platform. Amarin sat down with her legs swinging over the edge and with a great sigh of relief, Caris sat down with her legs crossed in the middle of the small platform.

  It was only once she was sitting that Caris noticed the view before her. They sat above a huge forest of trees that stretched a day’s walk before them and many more behind. Beyond the forest were smaller trees stretching almost as far as she could see. From where Caris was sitting, they looked like plants, or perhaps small bushes. It took her a moment to realise they were probably normal trees and only looked small compared to the giants she had so quickly become accustomed to. In the far distance to the southeast was a great ridge of mountains. They were a mere smudge on the horizon but as Caris looked at them, a deep sense of foreboding filled her.

  “The Braded Mountains,” Amarin said, breaking the quiet, “Beyond them you will find The King”.

  Caris nodded in reply, dispelling her sense of ill ease. “Such a magnificent view.”

  “It is. I used to come up here all the time when I was younger. It is a favourite spot of some of the young who are yearning for advent
ure and to see the wide world. Jeniel comes as often as she can,” she finished with a tinge to her voice that made Caris look at her questioningly.

  Ignoring her glance, Amarin opened her small basket and handed Caris a berry muffin and a small flask of cordial. Caris ate her muffin contentedly admiring the beautiful view and refusing to think about the terrifying descent she would need to make.

  With a nervous breath, Amarin broke the silence. “Caris, I have enjoyed getting to know you these last few days, and hearing about your life and experiences.”

  Caris looked at Amarin in some surprise, she hadn’t heard Amarin speak so seriously before and wondered if she had done something wrong, or offended someone.

  “Tell me Caris; was there no one else in your village with your long black hair and green eyes?”

  Caris felt herself going red in indignation. Was the disdain of her village going to follow her here? What matter it to the elves if I am different even to my own kind? She grated out her reply “Only my aunt.”

  “And did you spend much time with your aunt?”

  “As a child I spent some, but she died when I was still young.”

  Amarin nodded as if that answered a question. After a pause, she continued, “Crispin tells me there was another lady in your band of Horse who had long black hair and green eyes, Kalen?”

  Caris was getting increasingly angry at Amarin’s line of questioning, but she felt she owed her a debt of gratitude, not only for helping to save hers and Crispin’s lives and for the hospitality she had shown Caris since, but also for all the teaching and knowledge she had gone out of her way to give to Caris. Schooling herself to calm, Caris nodded in response to Amarin’s question.

  “Did you spend much time with Kalen?”

  “Some.”

  Amarin stared Caris in the face, as if hoping for more information, but Caris did not trust herself to say much without breaking down in anger and tears at the judgement she felt she was receiving from Amarin on her appearance. She was also hurt and confused that Crispin would’ve talked derogatively of not only her but also of Kalen who she knew to be a good friend of his.