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

by David J Normoyle

  “It’ll come. Let’s see if you can get up the stairs.” Iyra’s voice had a gentle note he hadn’t heard before. She put a hand around his waist and helped him to his feet. Bowe staggered against the wall, letting his shoulder take the impact on the stones rather than his hand. Iyra tightened her grip around his waist and pulled him off the wall and toward the stairs. “Come on, if we don’t get you up these stairs now, we never will.”

  Bowe leaned on her shoulder and kicked his foot onto the bottom step. He tried to push but most of the upward force came from Iyra. He was surprised at her strength, and remembered how she had dragged him from a boat to a cellar the first time they had met.

  “Push,” Iyra said every time he placed a foot onto a new step. He tried to help Iyra out but his muscles weren’t responding very well. Iyra was panting and red-faced by the time they were close to the top. With a huge effort, she wrenched him up the final step. Once on the second floor, Iyra helped Bowe to the nearest wall and propped him against it. He slid to the floor.

  “Wait there—I’ll get the bandages.” Iyra went to search through the White Spider’s provisions. “Try not to bleed too much.”

  Bowe couldn’t even crack a smile. His hands began to throb. He looked down at them but the sight made him feel sick. He pushed his palms against his chest and turned his attention to where Dulnato was facing the White Spider. Nechil stood back a few paces with his bow ready.

  “So Jisri, all this so that you can face me one on one?” Dulnato said. “You could have just knocked on the door of Grenier Mansion. I’m usually in the mood to kill someone if they ask nicely.”

  “You don’t believe in the concept of fair fight,” the White Spider said. “You’d probably have had your men hold me while you stabbed me.”

  “Not necessarily.” Then Dulnato started laughing. “Who am I kidding—that’s exactly what I would have done. Would have been hilariously funny. Someone coming for a fair fight and being held by twenty guys while I stabbed them.” He stopped laughing when he noticed no one else was joining in. He shook his head. “Some people have no sense of humor. What makes you think you can take me now? Didn’t work out for you so well the last time we fought.”

  “On the pier three years ago? You had two of your Defenders with you.”

  “Of course. I always like to tilt the odds.” Dulnato shrugged. “I thought I had enough men with me this time as well. Just the two of you killed all of them?”

  “I didn’t want to bring anyone whom I couldn’t trust not to kill you. I want you for myself,” the White Spider said.

  “Not sure you chose wisely so.” Dulnato jerked his thumb behind him at Nechil. “He wants to kill me so bad I can smell it. And the girl nearly shot me in the head.” Dulnato grazed a finger along the top of his right cheek and Bowe noticed the shallow wound and line of blood. Iyra had been close to killing him with that first arrow through the crack in the door; Bowe still didn’t know how Dulnato had dodged it. “And the Bellanger boy nearly killed me, too. I almost died of laughter when he grabbed my blade with his bare hands.” Dulnato laughed again, this time in Bowe’s direction.

  Bowe tried to think of something funny to say, but he felt lightheaded; his mind wasn’t up for serious thinking. Blood continued to trickle from his palms.

  Iyra had been frantically searching through the packs by the wall and now raced over and skidded to a stop beside him. White bandages dangled from one hand and she held a bottle in the other. “Hold out your hands in front of you,” she instructed. “And close your eyes.”

  Bowe held his hands out palms upward. “Is this going to hurt?” He jammed his eyes shut. “Lie to me if it is,” he whispered.

  “It won’t hurt,” Iyra replied, but Bowe could hear the lie in her voice.

  Liquid splashed down on his left hand. Bowe screamed; it was like she was pouring liquid flame onto him. He pulled back both hands, but Iyra grasped his right wrist and poured the flame onto that one, too, doubling his agony.

  “Be strong,” Iyra whispered, but it was too hard. The pain was too great. His screams descended into sobbing, then he screamed again.

  Iyra held his hands by the wrists. “You’re doing great.” Her voice penetrated the pain. “Don’t let your palms touch anything. Hold them upward.”

  Bowe kept his eyes scrunched shut. His hands were shaking even with Iyra’s support, and the pain was shooting all the way up to his elbows. He would have done anything in that moment to get the pain to end but there was nothing he could do. His mind was full of babbling pleas for it to end. His right wrist was released, and then a feeling of tightness wrapped around his left hand. Then the process was repeated on his other hand. The pain slowly diminished to a bearable level.

  “Open your mouth and prepare to drink,” Iyra said.

  Bowe did so but spluttered out the fiery liquid she tried to pour into his mouth. He coughed and opened his eyes.

  “I’ll try again.” Bowe watched as she inserted the opening of the bottle in his mouth and gently tilted it back. Bowe swallowed it in small gulps. It burned his mouth and all the way down his throat, but when it settled in his stomach, a warmth spread out through his body. He took several more sips before Iyra took the bottle away.

  He looked down. His quivering hands were encased in white bandages. Pain still throbbed in them, but it was nothing compared to the explosion of pain that had happened when Iyra had poured the liquor on them. Bowe rested the back of his wrists on his knees. The shaking stopped in his left hand, but the right one continued to vibrate until Iyra gripped the crook of his elbow. Like when she helped him up the stairs, he could feel her strength flowing through him.

  “You deserve to be thrown to the dogs.” Dulnato’s vicious shout brought Bowe’s attention back to the other events in the room. The White Spider mask was on the floor at his feet and Jadilla held her sword pointed at Dulnato’s chest. Nechil had his bow fully drawn. Dulnato looked ready to throw himself on the sword point just to get a chance to grab Jadilla’s neck. “All this time you’ve been pretending to be Jisri when you’re just a Helion-cursed woman.” Spittle flew from Dulnato’s mouth as he spoke.

  “I only did it because I thought it’d give me a better chance to kill you,” Jadilla said. “I never thought I’d get this far.”

  “Why shouldn’t she be ascor?” Nechil said. “The Green Path is meant to decide who is worthy and she proved herself. She’s as clever as any of the other ascor.”

  “She’s just a stupid girl.” Dulnato calmed himself and backed away from Jadilla’s sword point. “Too ugly to get a husband, so she wore a mask and pretended to be a man.”

  “Please,” Nechil said. “Please let me kill him.”

  “You promised me,” Jadilla said. “This has to be done my way.”

  Dulnato grinned. “Well, if there’s one good thing about this deception of yours, it’s got my blood boiling for a fight. I left my sword on the bottom of the stairs—may I retrieve it?”

  “There’s a bunch of swords over in one of those baskets. Just choose one.”

  Dulnato looked like he was about to argue then thought better of it. “Doesn’t matter, I could probably win with a knife. I knew you were a freak back when you were a kid, always dressing up like the boys and training with weapons. But surely you can’t expect to win against me.”

  Jadilla didn’t answer, she merely pointed her sword in the direction of the weapons.

  Dulnato walked across to them. As he passed Bowe, he dived toward him. Bowe jerked, but it was only a feint. Dulnato laughed and continued past. Iyra tightened her grip around Bowe’s arm.

  Dulnato took a few swings with a rusty axe, but quickly put it down. He went for the large sword that Bowe had first tried. His practice swings with it were fluid and effortless, very unlike Bowe’s clumsy attempt to use the weapon. “We have ourselves a winner. Let’s get this over with.” Dulnato went to stand in front of Jadilla. “Just to confirm: You’ll let me leave when I win, correct?” He
pointed his sword at Nechil. “He’ll let me leave.”

  “I’ll release you,” Nechil said woodenly. “I promised Jadilla I would.” He didn’t lower the bow and arrow. “I’ll be keeping this trained on you until the fight is over, however. Just you and her, no tricks, no trying to escape.”

  For answer, Dulnato swiveled and aimed a blow crossways at Jadilla. He clearly didn’t see attacking before his opponent was ready as a trick. Jadilla wasn’t fazed. She blocked the blow and calmly sidestepped, looking as though she’d been expecting this attack her whole life. The thunder of the two swords crashing against each other filled the whole room. That one strike revealed a lot. Jadilla was at a massive strength disadvantage, but she was more nimble than Dulnato was, and she was able to avoid the full power of his blow by moving backward and deflecting it. Dulnato used two hands on the hilt of his sword, gaining power and accuracy, whereas Jadilla took advantage of the reach and speed of a one-handed grip.

  Dulnato stepped forward and swung diagonally downward from the left. Jadilla stepped back to her left, giving a little shimmy with her body that made Dulnato’s sword thrust miss, and she snaked her own sword forward beneath his missed attack. But Dulnato wasn’t just strong, he was also fast, and he was able to twist his downward blow back across his body in time to block, stepping to the right as he did so. Sparks flew as the swords met edge against edge. They circled each other.

  Dulnato seemed more wary now. “I see your little lapdog over there has been training you. Nechil was always fast and skillful, though I never saw him as a threat when we were preparing to be Greens. What’s in this for him? Why has he helped you keep your vile secret?”

  “He doesn’t see it as vile.” Jadilla darted forward and curved a strike downward toward Dulnato’s hip. Dulnato didn’t break stride. He blocked and continued to circle.

  Bowe felt Iyra release his arm and he looked down to see her creep across the floor to grab a bow and some arrows. She scuttled back to join him. Bowe didn’t think she’d need the weapon, but it was a comfort. If Dulnato killed both Jadilla and Nechil, then they’d be next.

  Dulnato was doing most of the attacking. He mixed up long powerful strikes that started from over his shoulder and behind his back with short, fast jabs that jabbed forward without warning. Jadilla blocked the jabs and tried to dodge or deflect the more powerful strikes. She counterattacked whenever one of Dulnato’s thrusts went wide. At times, there was a quick succession of attacks where the ringing of one parry was still echoing off the ceiling while the following attack was in progress. At other times, they circled each other, watchful and calculating, while they gathered their breath.

  They kept to the side of the room near the windows, away from the area near Bowe where the floor was cluttered. Their breathing became heavier and sweat showed on both their faces, but neither slowed down. Nechil looked more worried than the fighters; the lines on his face were stretched as taut as his bowstring.

  “How will you like it when the world finds out that you were beaten by a girl?” Jadilla asked.

  “If I’m dead, what will I care?” Dulnato grunted. “The only thing that would bother me is that you would continue to live your lie. When the other ascor find out, they’ll want you cut into little pieces and to have your flesh thrown to the seagulls. Especially your adopted family, the Raines. You’ll bring disgrace down upon them all.”

  “Maybe it’ll cause a change. I didn’t set out to—”

  Dulnato ducked down and slashed low at Jadilla’s feet. She jumped back.

  “There’ll be no change,” he said. “Just food for the seagulls.”

  Jadilla thrust forward at Dulnato’s head. Instead of backing away Dulnato moved forward, deflecting Jadilla’s sword and taking his left hand from the hilt of the sword and punching Jadilla in the face. She rolled back with the punch, avoiding the full impact—though it still left her shaken—and moving back toward the wall. Dulnato gripped his sword with both hands again and slashed hard at her ribs. Jadilla didn’t have time to dodge this time, only block. She got her sword into position in time but shuddered at the impact, and Dulnato’s sword was deflected downward where it struck her knee, wounding her. Dulnato took a step back, and a smile spread across his face, but Jadilla didn’t give him time to enjoy the moment.

  She counterattacked, slashing left and right, giving no thought to defense. It seemed impossible that Dulnato could block every attack, so quickly did they come one after the other, but he managed it, his sword blurring back and forth. He backed away and Jadilla followed but she dragged the injured leg behind her, and after the initial flurry her attacks slowed.

  She aimed an upward diagonal slash at Dulnato’s head, but it went too high and he ducked under it and stabbed upward into her exposed midriff. Bowe gasped as the point of Dulnato’s sword emerged from Jadilla’s back. It was over.

  To Bowe’s shock, Jadilla smiled widely. The smile turned into a chuckle, though it was accompanied by bubbles of blood on her lips.

  “What are you laughing at?” Dulnato demanded.

  “I lied,” Jadilla said between gasps.

  “About what?”

  “About the fair fight.”

  Dulnato jerked and the point of an arrow thrust itself out from Dulnato’s chest. Nechil bent down and picked up another arrow, drew, released, and fired. Dulnato staggered backward as the second arrow hit him in the chest and his sword clattered to the floor.

  Nechil dropped the bow, took a knife from his belt, and approached the still-standing Dulnato. “Jadilla instructed me to kill you if you won. Promises made to scum like you mean nothing.” He grabbed the hair at the back of Dulnato’s head and touched the point of the knife against Dulnato’s throat. “She intended to watch you die whether you won or lost.”

  He jammed the knife home. Blood spurted from Dulnato’s throat and splashed Jadilla’s face and clothes. Her smile widened and she fell to her knees then collapsed to the ground. Nechil shoved Dulnato down, stepped over him, and bent over Jadilla. He turned her around so she faced upward. One hand cupped her cheek and the other held her hand as he lowered his head and whispered into her ear.

  After a moment, he straightened and turned to Bowe and Iyra. “I think she wanted to die like this. I have tried to persuade her that there was a life for her once Dulnato was gone, but I could tell she never believed me. She would have been lost if she survived. At least she’s with her beloved twin now.”

  With that, he picked up the White Spider mask, placed it on her, and put his arms under her body. He lifted her, carried her down the stairs, and disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter 14

  Day 30

  It smelled of rotting fruit. Bowe shivered and moved his bandaged right hand away from his nose. He wasn’t sure why it smelled like that, but he knew it wasn’t a good sign. He looked around. He was in the upstairs room in the watchtower and everything appeared normal. Just because it seemed normal didn’t mean it was, though. Bowe had seen all sorts of strange things the last few days. Iyra had told him it was all in his head but he wasn’t so sure. He searched for Iyra before he remembered that she was gone. He felt angry; he had injured himself badly saving her, and she had just left him behind. No, that didn’t seem right. Bowe tried to remember, but only a fraction of the things that happened in the last few days had really happened.

  Yes, that was it, he remembered. She had left to get medicine for him. Bowe’s fever had broken and he’d seemed well enough for a while, and she’d decided he was well enough to leave him. There’d been plenty of food and water in the packs that the White Spider had left here. Iyra had gone to Belldeem to get medicine for him. Afterward, though, his fever had come back worse than ever. Lucid periods like the one he was having now were little oases in the sea of hallucinations and nightmares.

  Bowe sniffed at his right hand again. No, something definitely wasn’t right there. He’d been ignoring it, waiting for Iyra, but she still hadn’t come back. What if he was on
his own from now on? What if Iyra had been caught? What if she decided not to come back? He needed to do something about his hand. Bowe thumbed at the edge of the bandage until he loosened it. He then grabbed the free end with his thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and began to unwrap. The smell got worse. Bowe turned his nose up. As he unwrapped, he tried to wiggle the fingers but they refused to work properly. His thumb moved fine and the little finger jerked a bit, but the other fingers refused to move. At least on his left hand, both his forefinger and thumb worked as normal, and there was some life in the other fingers even if they were clumsy.

  The last turn of the bandage didn’t want to come free, so Bowe closed his eyes and wrenched. He yelped, but the pain, though sharp, didn’t linger. He opened his eyes again, examining the used bandage. There were speckles of blood, but nothing compared with the bloody ones that had come off the first morning after the injury had happened. Now it wasn’t the red that worried him but the yellow. Yellow pus had soaked through large sections of the bandage. Bowe shivered again—he’d been perpetually either too cold or too hot for the last few days, but he wasn’t sure if it was the cold this time or the thought of what his right hand would look like. He knew he needed to examine it, but his gaze kept skipping past.

  He glanced at his left instead. He probably couldn’t change the bandage on that one even if he wanted to—unless his toes were any good at that sort of thing—but it was clean and he wasn’t particularly worried about it. As for the right, it had looked disgusting the last time he’d seen it, and then it hadn’t smelled half as bad. It needed cleaning, he decided. If he gave it a good cleaning before he saw it, it wouldn’t be too bad. And there was only one place to clean it properly.

  Bowe pushed himself to his feet, held his right arm straight down along his side and began to descend the stairs, making sure all the while not to look at his hand. He exited the tower. There were bloodstains on the grass outside, but no bodies. Seagulls circled overhead, screeching. Bowe remembered Dulnato talking about bodies as seagull food and he wondered if the seagulls had eaten the dead marshals. Was that why the bodies were gone? Had they eaten the bones as well?