by K. C. M.
He stopped and faced her again, his face emotionless as he said. “I’ve a schedule to keep.”
The implication was clear and she remembered how ruthlessly he’d killed the night before. “More lives to steal?” She asked thinly.
He didn’t reply and there was an uncomfortable silence.
She felt bad, suddenly, as if she’d said something wrong and she shifted. “I…” she switched topics instead. “You said these woods are dangerous. Will I be able to make it back by myself?”
He shrugged. “Not likely. I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”
She flushed a little at the censure. “Will you help me?” She blurted out, pushing away her pride and realizing she didn’t want to attempt traveling by herself again.
He looked at her steadily. “Go back to the town where I just killed several men? I think not.”
“You could just take me to the edge of the forest.” She muttered, glancing away, unable to hold his gaze.
“Even if I felt so inclined, I haven’t the time. I’m a professional. I’ve payment to collect.” His tone was so cold she shivered.
“I could pay you.” She blurted out desperately.
He raised a brow and his voice was just as cool as before. “You’re a maid at an inn.”
She flushed. “Yes, but it’s a job that pays.” She snapped and then took a breath, calming herself. “You said I’d probably die if I went by myself.”
“You probably will.” He said uncaringly. “If that bothers you, then don’t go that direction.” And he turned away.
He said it so matter of fact that she could only gape at him like a fish. “What—then what direction am I to go?” She was suddenly furious and her voice rose. “With you towards your—your payment?”
The next thing she knew, she was backed against a tree, the assassin’s hand pressed over her mouth. “Silence.” She froze in his strong grip. “You want to get out of these woods alive, start by learning how to be silent. You won’t have to fight off creatures if they don’t even know you’re present.” He released her suddenly and she stared at him, terrified and furious all at once.
“You haven’t answered my question.” She hissed.
He straightened, towering over her, and she shivered at the intensity of his green eyes. “I will make one thing very clear to you, maid,” The way he stressed maid sent shame and humiliation scurrying through her, as if she was nothing more than her job. “I saved your life as payment for you saving mine. What happens to you now does not concern me. Remember that when you decide which direction you want to travel.”
He turned and started to walk away. She stayed frozen against the trunk of the tree, her mind whirling. She felt as if she’d stepped up to a cliff wall and now had the choice of climbing down it, hoping she wouldn’t fall…or leaping and hoping that she’d fly.
Perhaps, she was greedy and prideful, not remembering her place in life…after all, she was only a maid…yet something inside her sent her scurrying after the assassin. An assassin, of all people! Her numbed brain thought.
He never glanced back at her to see if she was following, but she knew he knew she was. He may have been content to walk in absolute silence, but her newfound insanity was making her head buzz. After a bit, she scrambled to catch up to him and walk next to him, instead of behind.
“Do you have a name?” She asked, making sure to keep her voice down.
His green eyes slid to hers and for a second she thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Humans call me Connor.”
“Oh.” She stared at the roots and leaves below her feet, confused. “Just humans?” She finally asked.
He didn’t reply.
Her frown grew, but she switched topics. “Are you from around here?”
Again, that almost amused expression. “No.”
“Where are you from?”
He didn’t reply, just kept moving forward.
She scrambled for another topic. What did one talk to an assassin about? Hey buddy, how many men have you killed? Do you ever regret killing someone?
She shook away her ridiculous thoughts.
“Are you human?” She blurted.
Without stopping, he turned his head and looked right at her. “No. Enough questions.”
She faltered and then fell into step behind him, silent now except for the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath her feet.
Connor was appalled to realize that the human was actually traveling with him. He had made the offer, thinking of the dream he’d had and perhaps even thinking that there was never a chance she’d actually come with him…but she had. Her tromping boots behind him made him and plenty of other forest creatures aware of that. He stifled a sigh. He was going to have to teach this clumsy human how to walk better.
He cast a quick glance back at her.
She was walking with her head down, concentrating on where to place her feet. He faced forward again and his smile grew a bit. She was trying very hard to walk quietly, putting her feet down almost exactly where he put his. She was also having very little success.
A small smile tilted one corner of his mouth. He wasn’t sure why, but the sight was amusing. His smile faded, though, as he focused on the sounds beyond her feet.
It would be all too easy for any number of magical creatures to hear the maid. Even worse, it would be all too easy for them to get caught at the river. He shouldn’t have gone back for her. Or should have left after she’d fainted.
Six more days to get through the forest and then half a day to get back to Pharo where he’d receive his payment from a half elf, half gnome bar maid. He didn’t like crossing the river on his own, let alone getting through the entire forest with a clumsy, loud companion. He’d wasted too much time with her already. After she’d collapsed, he’d quickly checked her. The gnome must have cut her left shoulder, for it bled with a shallow wound. That wasn’t the real problem. The problem was the drowsing sap on her hand. She must have touched a drowsing tree. The sap was the tree’s protection, its defense, against any who tried to hew it down. Once it touched skin, it seeped into one’s body, causing lethargy and weariness.
He hadn’t lied. He really was amazed she’d made it this far.
Perhaps he shouldn’t be. She had thrown herself out a window to escape from him. That kind of determination and preservation would see her through many things.
Ah, well, so be it. She was traveling with him and now it was time to focus on getting through the forest.
His hand crept to the hilt of the curved blade. Listening intently to the sounds the forest was making, he absently traced the old symbol on it. The intertwining lines were that of an ancient knot. His fingers trailed the weaving lines. The knot had no beginning just as it would have no end, just like the blade itself.
His fingers stilled.
There, a whisper born across the shadows under the trees.
Connor walked faster and then broke into a run.
“Wait,” The girl behind him struggled to keep up. He heard her trip and he doubled back, grasping her elbow and hauling her to her feet. She made a face and rubbed the wound at her shoulder. “Why are we running?” She tried to ask, but he ignored her. His hand fastened on her wrist and this time when he ran, he dragged her along with him, refusing to let her fall behind.
Her harsh breathing and slow, stumbling feet grated on him. Every time she tripped made his mind scream for him to leave her behind.
The morning slipped away as they ran. The leaves high above their heads blocked most of the sunlight. The world was waking, but here in the forest, a certain drowsiness persisted. It was as if anything beyond the forest ceased to exist. It wrapped around living things, beckoning and calling for them to come and relax. But it was an illusion. One that Connor was quick to shake off. It did no good to pretend the world outside did not exist, for the world would come in eventually. Besides, there were dangers a plenty in the forest. Slothfulness had no real place here.
It was
almost afternoon when he stopped to take a quick drink. The sun was high enough that it snuck through the leafy roof, dappling the ground.
The maid curled into herself trying to catch her breath. One of her hands pressed to her shoulder where the gnome’s knife had scraped her.
“We have to go faster.” He snapped, holding out his hands.
“My apologies, your majesty.” She said sarcastically.
Connor dropped his hands and strode off. The pace he set was punishing and there was no way the maid would keep up.
“Wait. Wait! I’m sorry…” He heard her struggle through the forest after him, scrambling and tripping in her haste. “Wait, Connor!”
For the barest moment, he hesitated at his name. It was rare for anyone to say his name. Even those who knew it rarely used it. Names were a precious commodity.
Then a familiar voice echoed in his mind. Everyone living is already dead. It’s just a matter of death finding them.
Her voice, her harsh breathing, and her stumbling feet faded to nothing behind him. Once again, Connor was alone.
Our work is shadows and death.
And Connor had been alone for his whole life with no companions but shadows. It hadn’t really bothered him…not until Saragon had elected to travel with him occasionally. The horse had been his first and only companion. When the wind took Saragon away to whatever his horsely duties were, Connor did feel something, something he shouldn’t feel. Something his kind didn’t have time to feel.
Loneliness.
He stopped and turned, looking back the way he’d come.
If the beast caught up with the maid, it would kill her before she even had time to register what it was. It was better that way. No one wanted their last vision in life to be that of a Werebeast. Besides, the death would be so quick it would probably be painless…
Her death wasn’t his responsibility, just as her life wasn’t his responsibility. If anything, her death would ease his life. One less person who knew about him, one less concern.
It’s the laws of nature. The weak die, the strong live.
It had been that kind of thinking that led to the Wars of the Races. It had been that attitude that finally drove him away from his birthplace. It was that kind of thinking that still rankled through him, leaving him with a sour taste in his mouth. A fact of life that he just couldn’t quite bring himself to accept.
Blast.
He reached for the ancient, curved knife and it glimmered silver.
They might be able to outrun the werebeast still…if they were moving faster.
Connor felt a stray breeze lift a lock of his hair. “Saragon,” He whispered and hoped the wind would carry the name. He hoped the horse would deem to come once more.
Then Connor once more strode back the way he had come.
5 Add Insult to Injury
Oh cuss, what had she done? She hadn’t meant to snap at the assassin like that. She’d been so exhausted and tired and her wound, which had been doing fine, was throbbing with her heartbeat. The assassin had to be the most in shape man alive. What’s more, despite the fast pace, he’d managed to move in complete silence.
The sad thing was, after seeing him take off and disappear into the forest like a silent, fleeing shadow, she realized their pace before had been nothing but slow to him.
How the devil had he moved like that, anyways?
And what was following them?
He’d said nothing was more dangerous than him, but he was fleeing as if his life depended on it. And if someone as deadly capable as the assassin was afraid, she knew that she was in a world of really bad trouble.
She pushed her way through the tangle of branches and vines, trying to hurry. Even though branches caught and ripped at her face, skin, and hair, she didn’t dare stop. Only once did she stop and that was when a sharp looking rock caught her eye. She scooped it up and then kept running.
The rock fit perfectly in her hand, almost shaped like a crude blade. It had a thick, smooth base, but the tip was broken and jagged. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but she wanted to have something.
Not that she was likely to survive.
What had she been thinking going with the assassin? True, he’d said she wouldn’t survive the trip back to Myre alone, but…what had she been thinking?
Something snapped a branch in the forest off to her left and she whirled, raising her makeshift blade.
The sight that met her eyes made her jaw drop.
“Give me your hand.” Her gaze dropped from the extremely large, strangely colored horse to the hand the assassin was extending towards her. “Quickly!” He snapped and she sprang into action, grabbing onto his hand. Despite the fact that she tried to jump, it was the assassin who hauled her up onto the tall back of the horse. “Hold tight.”
She didn’t have time to react before the horse sprang forward.
Her stomach lurched and then got left behind.
Her entire body probably would have gotten left behind, but luckily the assassin had kept his grasp on her hand and when she started to fall, he yanked her back on. Holly wrapped her arms around his waist tightly. Branches whipped at them and stung her skin. She felt one hit her above the eye and the force blinded her for a moment. She pressed her face against the assassin’s back, using him as a human shield.
Or not a human shield, she thought hurriedly. After all, he’d said he wasn’t human.
As he leaned forward, bending low over the horse’s neck, she leaned with him and wondered just what was he?
He looked human enough.
But then, there were many…magical beings…that looked human.
A sorcerer? She’d seen the way he seemed to disappear in shadows. And when he’d fought the Masks, he’d done something with the shadows, made them wrap around the throat of one of the Masks. But from what Holly’s limited knowledge understood, sorcerers dealt more in mind magic. With one touch, a sorcerer could take over a person’s brain. Manipulating shadows seemed more…physical magic.
Or perhaps it was all an illusion, like an enchanter might use. If you made someone believe they were being choked by shadows, their mind would act on it and their bodies respond. They might actually choke on shadows. Except…Holly had watched someone else being choked and she had seen the shadows. She’d watched them spill from the Mask’s mouth.
She shuddered.
It had been horrifying.
And now she was traveling with the very man who had done that.
What was she doing?
The sun had disappeared and the day was fading into night. The horse stopped so suddenly that if Connor hadn’t sat in front of her, Holly would have tumbled right over the horse’s neck. Instead, her body just slammed into his from behind. He was like a rock, she thought wincing. The force of the stop and of her body hadn’t even moved him in the slightest.
Time for thinking disappeared after that.
The assassin dismounted and grabbed her elbow, tugging her off the horse. She thought she heard him whisper something, perhaps a thank you, and then the horse simply dissolved.
Holly’s jaw dropped. What the—
Her thoughts were cut off. “We can no longer ride here. The utmost secrecy is required for the next several miles, do you understand?” She opened her mouth to respond, but his hand covered her mouth. “Just nod. From here on out, you do not speak until we are far past the river.” She flushed, feeling suddenly like a child, but nodded.
He removed his hand from her mouth. His grip shifted from her elbow down to grasp her fingers.
A thousand questions flitted through her mind and she had to bite her lip to keep from asking them. Had they outrun whatever horror had been tracking them? Or was it even closer and that was why there was such a dire need for silence? What was following them? What had happened to the horse?
Holly tried to still her wild thoughts and instead focused on following the assassin as quietly and stealthily as she could.
At one point, Connor turn
ed around and glanced at her. Holly met his look and wondered if he saw all her questions in her eyes. His lips tightened into a thin line. It was a warning to keep silent. Then his gaze dropped and she tensed. Why was he looking at her…
Suddenly, in a move so quick she didn’t have time to react, he scooped up a handful of mud and dirt and smeared it over the left side of her chest.
She gasped and leapt backwards.
He caught her and yanked her to him, his hand coming across her mouth. Holding her so tight that she couldn’t move, he pressed his mouth to her ear. Her fear didn’t abate, though, and he whispered, “The blue on your dress needs to be covered up. It stands out.”