By Darkness Hid

by Jill Williamson

  And now her water was gone.

  Khai knew of Vrell’s bloodvoicing gift. Jax probably did as well. Maybe there was no point in hiding it. She spotted Jax’s red head scarf ahead. If she could get him aside, she could ask him how to bloodvoice someone directly. Then she could contact Mother. The instant Mother discovered Vrell’s plight, she would surely send someone to her rescue.

  But as much as Vrell wanted to be home again, she desired to wed that fool of a prince even less. He didn’t love her. His attentions were strictly based on political gain. Carmine influenced much of northern Er’Rets. The prince likely figured that an alliance with Carmine would give him better control over the kingdom. But Prince Gidon’s reputation already held doom for the future. His rule would not be a noble one.

  For the sake of the kingdom and Vrell’s future, she was safest hidden. If she could play her part, perhaps this apprenticeship in Mahanaim would be the perfect refuge.

  Was she mad? The sun must be melting her good sense. She could not continue to travel with these Kingsguard ruffians. She should be seeking opportunities for escape. If she could get away and make it back to Walden’s Watch, perhaps Mitt would take pity. But Wayan would never keep secrets from Lord Orthrop, and if Lord Orthrop discovered Vrell had fled the Kingsguards, the blow to his pride might make him cross enough to deliver Vrell to Mahanaim himself. If only Lady Coraline had not chosen this time to travel.

  Khai’s horse kicked up a plume of dust, and the wretched wind threw it back in her face. She coughed and spluttered and brushed the dirt off her tunic. As if her problems were not plentiful enough, where would she bathe?

  Vrell’s mouth and throat were parched, her lips were crusty, and swallowing had become difficult. They rode until Jax found another cluster of juniper to build a shelter in. As soon as they dismounted, Khai led the horses—and the extra water—away. Vrell halfheartedly stomped out a clear spot in the dead grass, then lay down and instantly fell asleep.

  * * *

  All too soon, Khai’s kick jerked her awake. As they rode through the dark night, Jax demanded she pick up the pace, but she was so tired and thirsty. Her body would not stay focused enough to guide her horse. Every muscle throbbed and spasms of pain pulsed in her temples. Finally the sun rose, blurring the endless savanna like melted butter.

  Jax reined his horse beside hers. “You must move faster, Vrell. We can make the forest before dark.”

  Vrell blinked. Her horse had stopped completely. She looked at the giant, but his face went out of focus and she could not determine whether he was truly angry. Wasn’t it time for bed? Her eyelids drooped, her head rolled back, and she slumped. Jax’s ample hand gripped her arm, and she snapped to at his touch.

  Her words came out in a whisper. “I shall try, sir.” She blinked and wiggled her tongue, but her pasty mouth could gather no saliva to swallow.

  Jax tugged the water skin off Vrell’s satchel and shook it. “You have no water?”

  Again her voice croaked, “I finished it yesterday.”

  Khai groaned to the sky.

  Jax pushed Vrell’s empty skin into her hands. She hugged it tight, cradling it like a broken child. The giant lifted a strap over his head and offered her his water jug. It was carved from some kind of gourd, the surface intricately burned with a picture of a tree. She clipped her empty water skin to her pouch and reached for Jax’s jug.

  The wet, cool liquid softened her shriveled tongue. She swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, until Jax pulled the sweet moisture away. Vrell whimpered and eyed the jug greedily as he hung the leather strap back over his head.

  “You must take small drinks,” Jax said. “Make your water last. How is it you live in Walden’s Watch and don’t know of the pre-spring drought?”

  “Because he’s a half-wit,” Khai said. “Let him thirst. It will teach him to think next time.”

  Vrell scowled at Khai. She had not understood about the drought. Lord Orthrop had said it came from mythical gods, so she had dismissed it as mere legend. Besides, Lord Orthrop and Mitt had always had plenty of water to drink. She forced her befuddled mind to answer as the stray, Vrell Sparrow, would.

  “Um…” Her pounding head made it difficult to remember. She was to give Lady Coraline’s hometown as her own. That should suffice to explain to Khai why she knew little of Walden’s Watch. “I…come from Zerah Rock.”

  Khai groaned again and looked away. “No wonder.” He turned back and threw up his hands. “He’s a sapient slave. Fancies himself worth more than he is.”

  Jax silenced Khai with a sharp look. “I will share my water, but we must keep moving if we are to reach the forest before dark. There are many streams in NaharForest to refill our jugs.”

  The drink revived Vrell enough that she could keep pace with the men’s horses. She was further strengthened when Jax passed out another meal of bread, meat, and figs.

  She didn’t know why Jax treated her kindly, but she was glad. It had been fun, the first few days of playing a boy in Walden’s Watch. But the first time she’d gone to apprentice at the apothecary, she had quickly learned what life was like for a stray. No one had made eye contact, no one had spoken to her, and when she had tried to ask directions, she had been shoved, cursed at, or ignored. They had treated her as Khai treated her. But Jax did not.

  The journey continued. Vrell’s eyes stung, begging to close. If Jax wasn’t going to let them sleep, couldn’t they stop to eat? Judging from the sun’s place in the sky, it must be early afternoon. A strange shadow painted the horizon. Could the drought be coming to an end?

  Vrell occupied herself with memories of Bran. She recalled his wide smile and brown eyes, the feel of her hand in his. How she missed his company. She prayed that he was not too cross with her having gone into hiding. She couldn’t risk his knowing where she was. He sometimes did the silliest things for noble reasons.

  An itch seized her left ear. A fly? She batted at the air, hoping to send the bug away, but the itch grew.

  Vrell Sparrow.

  Vrell halted her horse, clutching the reins until her knuckles whitened. Mother!

  The call came again. Vrell Sparrow.

  Jax glanced over his shoulder, then turned his horse around. “You all right, Vrell?”

  Vrell Sparrow.

  Did she dare answer Mother now?

  The pressure increased. Vrell scratched at both ears, certain that Jax was now trying to pry into her mind as well. She concentrated on keeping her defense strong, fearful that she was about to be discovered.

  Jax steered his horse back to her side. “Are you well?”

  Vrell nodded. “Something bit me, I think.”

  Jax leaned close to examine her ear. He grabbed her chin and turned her head to look at the other. “Looks fine. We must ride.”

  Vrell nodded. As the party continued along the dusty road, a sorrow settled over her. What could her mother be thinking now that Vrell had not answered? Would she call out again? And how could Vrell know if it was safe to reply?

  As the day wore on, the shadow grew until Vrell realized it was actually a forest stretching across the land. Her heart raced for the change in scenery. Shade would make such a difference in the temperature. To her distant right, water glittered in the sun. She thought back to her geography lessons and figured that it must be the Lebab Inlet. She longed to run and bathe, but it was miles away—and saltwater would not quench her thirst.

  The road before them curved up a small hill and entered the woods. Yellowed grass gave way to green. New sounds of nature met her ears as her horse neared the trees. A rustling of branches, twittering birds, and…

  A stream!

  A bubbling brook curved out of the forest along the road then cut east through the dry earth to run toward the ocean. Vrell dismounted and ran into the shallow flow. She slurped with her hands until satisfied, washed her face, then pushed up her sleeves to clean her arms.

  Khai squatted by the stream and submerged his leather water j
ug into the current. “Good thing you’ve not been recruited for the Kingsguard. You’d make a pathetic soldier.”

  Vrell ignored him and washed the dusty grime from her skin. She spotted leafy green sorrel growing along the bank. She dug in her satchel for her tiny knife and cut some. Mother’s cook, Jespa, made a divine salad with sorrel, walnuts, and strawberries, when they were in season. Vrell washed the leaves in the stream and ate some. It tasted fresh and juicy and welcome after days of dry food. Vrell cut more and wrapped them in the largest leaf for later. She also cut some white clover. If she could somehow dry it, it would make a hearty tea.

  Jax knelt to fill his jug, He pulled off his head scarf and rinsed his face and hair. His gaze met Vrell’s as he tied the red scarf back over his head. “I like your thinking, Vrell.” He pulled a knife from his belt and cut strips of river cane as long as Vrell’s arm. He tied them into torches with hemp twine and tucked them in his pack. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes, sir.” Vrell filled her jug and clipped it to her satchel.

  They mounted and rode into the forest.

  Never had Vrell seen such trees. Redpines and cedars stretched to the heavens, their trunks wider than four grown men. Branches intertwined overhead like a green, red, and brown canopy that let in shafts of light but blocked the merciless heat of the sun. Thick yellow moss carpeted the ground. Leathery orange ferns and tiny white flowers grew from it in a lush garden array. Even the dusty brown path they’d been riding on had now changed to red clay.

  Such beauty distracted Vrell from her weariness, her plight, and her task of acting a boy. The next few hours passed pleasantly. She hummed softly with the rustling trees and chirping birds. Chunks of shell mushroom clung to the side of an oak tree. She reined Nickel and slid off his side.

  Vrell stepped off the path, and her foot sank deep in the spongy moss. Maybe the worst of the journey was over. If they camped in the forest tonight, she wouldn’t mind sleeping on such soft ground. She longed to snip some white flowers and thread them in her hair, but dared not pick one without an herbal excuse. She withdrew her knife and reached up to cut the mushroom.

  “Boy!” Khai yelled. “We’ve no time for gardening.”

  Vrell wheeled around to see that Khai and Jax had turned their horses sideways on the road. “I only wish to cut some mushroom,” she said. “It’s quite good.”

  “Quickly, Vrell, then no more stops,” Jax said.

  She sliced off wedges of mushroom until her satchel bulged. A mentha plant waved in the breeze only two paces away. She glanced at the men. They were engaged in conversation with each other. She crouched to cut as much mentha as she could.

  Khai suddenly cried out.

  Vrell looked up to see him scrambling into her side of the forest on foot, his horse galloping away. Jax dismounted, slapped his horse’s rear, and crouched in the middle of the road. His horse ran on ahead. Jax yanked two axes from his leg sheaths, one in each hand. Vrell’s eyes widened.

  A song-like cry warbled in the distance. It sent a tremor to her heart. Something whooshed past her arm and thunked into a nearby redpine trunk. She stepped toward it to get a closer look. It was an arrow with a crude, black, obsidian head and—

  “Vrell!” Jax yelled. “Look out!”

  Vrell darted behind the redpine just as another arrow pierced the trunk.

  “Wee ahlawa men teeah!”

  Vrell peeked around the tree to see a man as tall as Jax, but pale as a lily. His long blond hair hung around his face like a curtain. Animal skins were draped over one shoulder, across his white chest, and down around his hips like a skirt. He clutched a spear in one hand and a curved axe in the other. Both weapons were chiseled out of obsidian and lashed to wooden handles with leather.

  He stood on the road facing Jax.

  Jax bowed to the giant. “We seek passage through NaharForest.”

  The giant pointed down the road, back toward Walden’s Watch. “Wee ahlawa men teeah!”

  Jax shook his head. “We will not go back. We must take this road to Xulon.”

  The pale giant tipped his head back and bellowed a trilling cry into the treetops.

  A chorus of voices returned the cry from all sides. Vrell’s horse turned and trotted back toward the peninsula. Vrell scowled and whipped around, her back pressed against the redpine trunk.

  Two more pale giants approached where Khai stood in the forest. Another three walked up the road and stood behind the leader. Jax stood motionless before the four giants, clutching his axes, waiting.

  Scraping metal on wood turned Vrell’s gaze back to Khai. The knight had drawn his monstrously long sword. He held it at the two giants who faced him, waving it back and forth to keep them at bay.

  Vrell bounded over the soft ground to an oak tree with low branches and scurried up. Climbing trees had always been something she enjoyed, as much as it vexed her mother. She had barely settled on a thick branch halfway up when the clash of weapons sent her spinning around.

  The two giants had attacked Khai. One swung an ax and another stabbed with a long spear. Khai chopped the tip off the spear, parried the axe, sliced its wielder’s leg, and spun back to lop off the hand of the giant holding the remainder of the spear.

  Vrell gasped. The little weasel could actually use that weapon. She tore her gaze away to look at Jax.

  The four pale ones rained blows upon him with club and spear. His red scarf shone bright against their bleached skin and hair. She had never seen men fight with anything but swords. Jax swung his axes in a blur and blocked his opponents’ attacks with the iron cuffs on his forearms. So that was what they were for.

  Khai vaulted over the mossy ground and onto the road, barging into Jax’s fight. Vrell climbed to a higher branch to get a better view. She glanced back to where Khai had first fought and found his first two attackers slain. Their pallid bodies lay on the yellow moss as if they were asleep.

  A heavy tear fell down her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought the bile rising in her throat. She must not panic or weep like a girl. These giants had attacked without cause. Jax and Khai had killed in self-defense. Had they not, the pale giants would have killed them.

  She choked back her tears. A sudden silence caused her to look back to the road. The battle was over. Khai had left two dead in the forest. And now four more ashy giants lay dead on the road. Blood oozed from their skin and seeped into the red clay road like red rivers converging. Khai and Jax appeared unharmed. Khai crouched and wiped his blade on the moss.

  Jax peered through the trees then spun around. “Vrell?”

  She croaked, “I am here.”

  Jax’s long legs carried him to the oak in four long strides. He lifted a blood-spattered hand to her. She hesitated, then gripped it and jumped down into the spongy moss.

  “Who were they?” she asked, wiping her hand off on her tunic.

  “Ebens.”

  Vrell nodded and followed Jax to the road.

  Jax squatted and cleaned his axes on clumps of moss before pushing them back into their sheaths. “Khai, we must retrieve the horses and keep moving.”

  “Aye.” Khai jogged down the road, farther into NaharForest.

  “Why did you dismount?” Vrell asked.

  “They might have slain the horses otherwise.” Jax stepped past her and strode back toward the peninsula, studying the ground as he went. “There will be more, Vrell. We must find your horse quickly.”

  More ebens? Vrell’s toes curled in her boots as she fought to conceal her fear. Jax didn’t stop, so she hurried after him. “Why did they attack?”

  Jax veered off the road and around a thick oak. “When ebens come out of Darkness, it is for mercenary work. These ebens were well paid.”

  Vrell traipsed over the soft moss and spotted Nickel ambling under the low branches of an oak tree. She swallowed. “You mean they were here to kill us?”

  “No, boy, they were hired to kill giants. Although they would kill anyone who tried to pass throug
h NaharForest right now.”

  “But they are giants.”

  Jax took Nickel’s reins and handed them to her, his face hardened. “They were giants, Vrell. Darkness changed them.” He cast his eyes to the sun, as if judging the time. “Now, no more questions. Their battle cries will have alerted their comrades. We must move quickly and quietly. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, sir.” Vrell led Nickel back to the road and mounted. Khai was waiting with the other two horses. Vrell urged Nickel slowly up the road as she waited for Jax and Khai to mount. She passed the dead giants on the road and gazed down at one of the massive pale men. His glassy blue eyes stared into the canopy of branches above.

  They rode for hours without encountering any more ebens. Vrell hadn’t slept in way too long, but Jax wanted to press on until he felt it was safe to stop.

  When they finally did stop, Khai went off hunting on his own.

  Jax sat against a tree and removed his black cape. The left arm of his white shirt was matted with blood just above the elbow.

  Vrell gasped. “Jax, you are hurt.” She hurried to his side and saw a broken stick protruding from his arm.

  “One of their arrows struck me. It’s not bad.”

  Vrell lifted the strap of her satchel over her head. “I have been learning the healing trade. May I help?”

  Jax smiled. “You may assist. I’ve likely mended more battle wounds than you.”

  Vrell knelt beside him and nearly fell over in the deep moss. She settled herself and met Jax’s huge, brown eyes.

  His grin warmed her cheeks. “The first thing you must know in treating an arrow wound is what kind of arrow you are dealing with. Best way is to find one and look at it.” Jax shrugged. “I know ebens well. Their arrowheads are barbed obsidian.”

  “Yes. I saw one,” Vrell said.

  “Barbed arrowheads are harder to remove. It’s best to use something to pry them out with. But mine is not deep. What do you have in your pack?”