The Narrowing Path: The Complete Trilogy (The Narrowing Path Series Book 4)

by David J Normoyle

  Tee belied his bulk in flitting from shadow to shadow, gliding noiselessly along. He paused at every corner to scan the way ahead.

  They were halfway up a street when Tee jerked to a sudden stop. He stiffened, then raced to the side of the street and descended the staircase of a nearby cellar entrance, pulling Bowe after him. Tee lay flat on the steps, breathing shallowly, and Bowe crouched behind.

  Bowe hadn’t noticed whatever had alerted Tee, but his guide’s instincts were true. First they heard approaching laughs and shouts, then saw a wavering light. It was two Grenier marshals carrying a torch. From their loud voices and frequent laughter, they were thoroughly drunk. They passed directly in front of Bowe and Tee’s stairs. Both of them were armed, and the light from the torch made Bowe and Tee’s hiding place seem right out in the open. They weren’t paying much attention, though, facing each other and laughing. Then the nearer one turned his head and stared Bowe straight in the eye. Bowe’s heart stopped beating.

  Bowe’s palms tensed against the rough stone of the step, ready to spring up, but he didn’t see how he could escape them when they were so close. Tee wasn’t wearing a sword, and in any case he didn’t seem much of a warrior.

  But the man’s gaze moved on, and Bowe realized he hadn’t been seen. The marshal’s eyes were either light-blinded by the torch or simply drink-blinded. It must have merely been Bowe’s imagination that the man had looked Bowe directly in the eye.

  The marshals continued down the street, and when they turned the corner the light disappeared with them.

  “There have been extra patrols ever since you went missing,” Tee whispered to Bowe. “Hopefully they’re all as drunk as those two.”

  There were no other incidents as Bowe and Tee made their way to the outskirts of Arcandis City. Tee peeked around a corner, pulled back, and gestured for Bowe to come forward. Bowe caught up with Tee. They were within sight of the city wall now. The wall was the height of a two-story building and wide enough for two men to walk abreast. Guard towers dotted the wall at regular intervals.

  Marshals were supposed to patrol between the towers, but before tonight Bowe had never seen that happening. Right now, though, there were two torchlit patrols on just the small section of the wall that Bowe could see. Bowe hoped that Tee’s plan didn’t involve climbing the wall, because that wasn’t going to work tonight.

  Tee leaned close to Bowe’s ear. “Do you see that hut there? The one with the door half hanging off?”

  Bowe looked to where Tee pointed. There was a cluster of derelict houses near the wall. Most of them didn’t even have doors, so Bowe was able to quickly locate the one that Tee was referring to. “Are we going to repair it?”

  “We’re going in there. Once we are inside, it’s going to be very dark. You’re to hold on to my tunic with one hand and use the other to feel your way forward. I’ll take it slow so you won’t lose me. We’ll need to crawl most of the way. Don’t make any noise. Don’t accidentally kick stones. Don’t fall over. Choke any coughs or sneezes before letting them out. Even if it means suffocating on them—better that than getting caught. Do you understand me?”

  Bowe opened his mouth and Tee covered Bowe’s mouth with a finger. “No smart replies. Do you understand me?”

  Bowe nodded.

  Tee waited until none of the wall patrols were close before dashing across the street and into the small hut. Bowe followed. Tee closed the door behind Bowe and everything went black.

  Bowe reached out his arm and waved it around until it hit a pudgy torso. He gripped Tee’s tunic and shuffled forward behind Tee. After only a few steps, Bowe crouched down, mirroring the movements of his guide. Bowe guessed there must be a tunnel under the wall. At least Bowe hoped that was why he was gripping tightly to a middle-aged man’s tunic in a pitch-dark room. He already had enough fodder for his nightmares.

  There was a scraping sound, then Tee continued forward. Bowe crawled after him, holding onto the tunic with one hand and hopping forward on the wooden floor. When his hand plummeted downward, Bowe almost let out a scream. But the hand found purchase on dirt just a small distance below the level of the floor. He continued to creep forward, going downward now. His hands and knees now pushed against soil rather than wood.

  He had to release the man’s tunic to make progress in the narrow tunnel, but every time Bowe reached forward with his right arm, he touched the ankle in front of him so he didn’t lose contact. It reminded Bowe of being in the Refuge. The darkness was so complete that closing or opening his eyes made no difference. The other senses replaced his sight. He concentrated on the texture of the soil—the dampness of it, the way it crumbled beneath his fingers—and on the smell of vegetation, dirt, and stale air, and on the sound of both Tee and Bowe crawling forward, two burrowing animals escaping between the city walls.

  Then over the sound of Tee and Bowe’s crawling, Bowe heard muffled voices and marching feet. The patrolling guards, Bowe realized. The sounds seemed strangely loud, and Bowe hoped that the reverse was not true and that the marshals could not hear every noise below them magnified.

  Tee stopped moving. Bowe held his breath and dug his fingers into the soil in front of him. They closed around something slimy, and it squirmed. Bowe gasped, and then, realizing where he was, stifled his reaction. The marching feet didn’t falter and the muffled voices didn’t turn into shouts. The patrol seemed to take much longer to pass over them than it should have.

  Bowe resumed breathing and lifted his hand out of the dirt. Tee crawled forward again, and Bowe mirrored his guide’s movements. They went faster now; Tee was possibly as anxious as Bowe to get out of the tunnel.

  It was a huge relief when the air freshened and, shortly thereafter, the tunnel sloped upward. Bowe reached forward and couldn’t find Tee’s shoe, so he looked upward and saw a patch of gray darkness above him. It was the night sky. Bowe rose to a standing position, and walked forward. He stopped when briars scratched his face. Lovely, he thought. He listened for the direction that Tee had gone, then pushed forward in that direction, using his arms to shield his face. The thorns on the briars tugged at his skin and clothes.

  When he was out of the briar patch, he turned to look back at the city wall. It was fifty paces away now. There was no way the patrolling guards could see him out here in the darkness, or any way they could hear him unless he was loud. He made out the patch of shadow that was Tee. “You could have warned me about the briars,” Bowe whispered. The scratches on his arms were beginning to sting.

  Tee ignored his complaint. “There should be someone to meet you not far from here.” He pointed in a direction diagonally away from the city wall. “Head in that direction and look for a signal light.”

  There was nothing but more darkness in the direction Tee indicated. “What if the person I’m supposed to meet doesn’t arrive?”

  “That’s not my concern. I’ve done my job” There was a quaver in Tee’s voice. He clearly wasn’t made for this type of work. No more than Bowe himself, of course, but Bowe could imagine how much Sindar would have relished an assignment like this.

  “Why did you do it?” Bowe asked. “You’re terrified of getting caught, yet you still brought me here.”

  “I owe a debt,” Tee said. “Just remember your vow. I’m going. Good luck.” Tee disappeared into the briars. Tee moved silently, so perhaps he had once been more than just an everyday middle-aged man, but he clearly didn’t want to be here. Getting out of a debt to Coensaw probably often involved doing something you didn’t want to.

  Bowe peered in the direction Tee had indicated, looking for the signal. Nothing. Bowe glanced back at the city wall, where four distinct torchlights bobbed along its length. Dulnato and the Grenier marshals were certainly doing everything in their power to catch him. Except for staying sober, Bowe thought, remembering the marshals on the street.

  Bowe tried to figure out what he should do if his second contact didn’t arrive. He was outside the city, at least. But he had no id
ea where to go. Belldeem was the main village outside Arcandis City, so that was the most obvious place to start, but Bowe didn’t know how to find it, and with marshals after him he couldn’t exactly just ask for directions. And what would he do then? Getting here suddenly seemed a small thing compared to surviving outside the city. Did people hunt for food, or could he buy it like in a city?

  A flare of light drew Bowe’s attentions away from his thoughts. The signal. Coensaw hadn’t let him down, at least. Bowe stepped toward the light, every step unsteady because he was taking it blind. After several paces, his feet became accustomed to finding purchase in the grass in front of him and he picked up his speed. Given how jumpy Tee had been, he didn’t want to give his second contact a reason to leave.

  His shoulder rammed into a tree trunk and he stumbled to the side. He had just regained his balance when he half-tripped over a tree trunk. He stumbled forward a few steps before stopping. Take more care, he told himself. Concentrating, he was able to make out shapes around him using the distant light of the signal fire. There were trees all around him; he must have entered the edge of the forest without realizing. He edged forward, keeping his arms outstretched in front of him and swiveling his head back and forth so he didn’t miss a stray branch.

  As he closed in on the fire, the visibility increased, and he lowered his arms again. A small fire burned on some twigs and a blanket was tied to some branches to shield the light from the wall. A figure watched him approach. Bowe stopped dead when he realized who it was.

  “Mush-for-brains.” Iyra groaned. “I should have guessed. Who else could make so much noise? I can’t believe those bastards sent me to mind you again. What did I do to deserve this?” She lifted a lantern from beside her and took the candle out, lit the wick using the fire, and returned it to the lantern. “I might as well get on with it.” With the lantern lit, she starting kicking out the fire.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” A churning in Bowe’s stomach told him that his feelings for her were still strong. She had grown in the last three years; she was taller and fuller figured. Her face was thinner and longer. He thought she looked prettier but it was hard to tell between the lack of light and all the scowls she directed his way. “How are you keeping?”

  “My job is to take you away from the city, not to make polite conversation.” She kicked chunks of soil onto the dying fire.

  “I’m sorry about how I treated you before. I was young and stupid. I promise I’ve changed since then. It’s honestly good to see you. I wasn’t sure you made it into the Refuge.”

  Iyra stamped all the embers from the fire into the ground until the only light came from the lantern. “You were so worried, I’m sure. You didn’t make much attempt to make sure I was safe, did you? You saved many others when you went into the Refuge.”

  “That’s not fair. I couldn’t exactly contact you. And when I entered the Refuge I wasn’t sure if I was leading everyone to their death. You had a surer route into the Refuge than following me, or you wouldn’t be here now.”

  Iyra picked up the lantern. “I was told to help a fugitive flee the city, and that’s what I intend to do. Now shut up and follow me. I’ve set up a camp not far from here. We’ll sleep for the night, then continue.” She strode into the darkness, the bubble of light from her lantern eating a path through the darkness.

  Bowe opened his mouth to reply then bit his lip and hurried after her.

  Chapter 5

  Day 8

  They were all around him. Though Bowe couldn’t see them, he could sense them. Malevolent beings that wanted to consume him. He ran; he didn’t know if he was running toward them or away from them, he just needed to move. His feet started to get sluggish, and they closed in on him. Every step became harder than the last. His feet were difficult to lift; the ground sucked at them. He bent down and used his arms to pull his legs from the ground. But that only gave him one or two more steps until his feet were stuck fast. Fear writhed like a wild thing trapped within him. They approached, closer and closer, not even rushing now—they knew they didn’t have to. Their prey was trapped. Bowe could sense their anticipation, their hunger for him. “Bowe, Bowe,” they called out. They surrounded him, shapeless darkness wrapping around him. The world shook as Bowe was consumed by them. He made one final effort to get away, throwing himself forward.

  His torso shot up into a sitting position, and his eyes flew open. His breath came in jagged bursts.

  Iyra leaned over him with her hand on his shoulder. “All bloody night you spend tossing and turning, mumbling, and shouting to yourself,” she said. “You can tell you’re used to sleeping in a room by yourself. No one could put up with that.”

  Bowe touched his forehead; the sweat was cold. “I’m married.” Bowe didn’t know why he said that. Even though it was true, it didn’t contradict what Iyra had said—Zofila didn’t sleep in his room.

  Iyra’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “I remember that now. Maybe I should have let you sleep longer so you could enjoy your dreams more.” She stood. “Pack up the gear. The sooner we get to Belldeem and I get you out of my hands, the better.”

  Iyra did most of the work in packing up the camp. Bowe tried to help but got in the way more than anything. When she finished, Iyra kicked dirt and leaves across their campsite, then picked up a pack and stalked away.

  “Hey, wait.” Bowe picked up the other pack and struggled to get it to settle on his shoulder. When he finally did, Iyra was disappearing out of view. He ran after her, tripped on a tree root, and fell on his face. His pack flew over his shoulder and broke open, scattering its contents to the forest floor. Bowe scrambled to his feet, panicked. He could no longer see Iyra and he had no idea how to find his way through the forest on his own. He threw everything he could see back into the pack and lifted it, holding it to his chest. With his arms wrapped tightly around the still half-open pack, he half ran in the direction Iyra had gone, hoping he hadn’t lost anything vital in the rush. He breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of Iyra between the branches. Making sure to avoid tree roots this time, he caught up with her.

  “Hey, I nearly lost you,” Bowe said, dropping his pack to the ground behind her. “Give me a moment to repack this.” He leaned on his knees to draw in deep breaths.

  Iyra kept walking; she didn’t even look back.

  “Wait up,” Bowe called after her. “You’re supposed to help me, not dump me in the middle of the forest. Coensaw wouldn’t want you to just leave me behind.”

  The name Coensaw got her attention. She turned around. “Don’t throw the names of Guild members around like that. I’m not sure why we ever decided to help you in the first place, but those who are too loose with Guild secrets don’t survive long, mush-for-brains.” Iyra continued along the forest trail, and her pace even increased a notch. So much for getting her to slow down.

  Bowe pushed down on the top of his pack, compressing everything inside, and hurried to reclose it. By the time he’d risen and thrown the backpack over his shoulder, Iyra had disappeared again. Bowe sighed and hurried after her. This was going to be a long day.

  * * *

  The shadows lengthened as night approached, and Bowe silently celebrated each decrease in the amount of light. His stomach ached with hunger, he limped because one of his feet had blisters, and the briar scratches on his arms itched like crazy. Iyra showed no sympathy for any of his complaints, continuing her relentless march. She’d only allowed one meal break, which had been an unpleasant mix of stale food and uncomfortable silence. Bowe couldn’t believe they were still in the forest after all this walking. From the roof of Bellanger Mansion the fields beyond the forest could be seen, plus the sea beyond that. It didn’t seem possible that he could take more than a day to traverse the entire forest. Perhaps Iyra was going around in circles just to mess with him.

  On the other hand, it was more likely that Iyra wanted to see the back of Bowe as much as Bowe wanted this forest trek to end. Bowe couldn’t exa
ctly blame her after how he’d treated her during the Green Path. He had long since given up trying to talk to her, though, and now needed all his energy just to keep up. He wanted to ask her to stop, he wanted to beg her to let them stop, but his pride wouldn’t let him. So he ignored his pains and kept struggling onward.

  Bowe was concentrating so hard in putting one foot in front of the other without stumbling that he walked straight into Iyra’s back. He stumbled back a step, put his weight onto his right foot and swayed slightly. “We stopping for the night?” He tried and failed to keep the weariness and anticipation from his voice.

  “Hush. There’s someone out there.”

  Bowe listened. He knew he should be worried; it could be that the Grenier marshals had found him already, but he was too exhausted to care. He wasn’t capable of running away or putting up any resistance right now, so he simply waited for what was to come. If it was the marshals, he just hoped they’d do him the favor of killing him here rather than making him walk all the way back to Arcandis.

  A giant of a man swaggered into view in front of Iyra. Leaves rustled all around them, and Bowe turned to see that they were completely surrounded by a mixture of men and women. They were a ragged bunch; everyone wore ill-fitting and badly stitched-together clothes. They bore a mixture of weapons: swords, axes, farm implements.

  The giant squinted at Iyra. “Do I recognize you?” He had a long beard, bright red hair, and a voice like rocks grinding together.

  “You’ve met me plenty of times,” Iyra replied. “Urdo, right?”

  Urdo turned to the woman closest to him. “You know her, Betta?”

  Betta was a middle-aged woman with tangled hair and brown-stained teeth. “She’s in the Guild. Brought a few messages when she was younger. Hasn’t visited in a while.”