“We’ll be ready,” Aric said.
Berig always wondered how Aric could stay so positive. Again, it seemed that Aric and Danica were perfect for each other. Berig would have to make it through life alone, which hardly surprised him by now.
“You'll also run across Clan Forest Snake,” Darek said, leaning against the trunk of an enormous tree. “They're one of the better clans. They don’t wage war very often, but they're also quite . . . mystical in their beliefs. A strange people, if you ask me.”
“As long as they’re hospitable,” Aric said, “I don’t really care.”
Darek stepped away from the trees. “I’m sure you’ll fare just fine. If you can survive the brutality of Clan Seagull, you can make it through anything.”
Berig wished he could feel so confident. How many more times could he face death and escape unscathed? He looked across the clearing to Danica. She stood by herself, her expression downcast, as if she'd finally lost her relentless positivity. He hoped that wasn’t true, but how could anyone remain positive through everything they’d experienced?
He put a hand on her shoulder. “You feeling all right?”
“I’ll be fine." She avoided his gaze. “Just need some time.”
Klint was standing nearby. “We could all use a little of that.”
“We don’t have that luxury,” Aric said. “We have to get going now.”
Darek and the rest of Clan Mountain Eagle provided them with a few supplies for the road, then wished them a safe journey. They were welcome to return to Clan Mountain Eagle whenever they wished. Though Berig liked Darek and the other clansmen, he hoped he’d never see this part of the world again.
They started to the east, leaving the small patch of woods behind. For the first evening, they traveled through the plains, encountering only a few small monsters.
The next morning, they entered a thick forest. Parts of the path were so overgrown that they had to cut their way through. Berig and Danica still carried their swords, but Berig hated using it, even to cut low-hanging vines out of the way. It felt stiff and unnatural in his hand.
“How'd you get so comfortable with a sword?” he asked Aric.
“It takes a lot of training. No one feels like they can handle it at first.”
“How much training?”
“Years and years,” Aric said. “Don’t expect to master anything overnight.”
Berig kicked a few rocks out of his path. “I just hope I can use it against some of these monsters.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Aric said. “Klint and I will protect us.”
“Yeah, and that makes me and Danica useless.”
“You’re not useless." Aric hacked at a thick vine. “How many times have you saved us on this journey? Maybe you aren’t skilled with a sword like I am, or with magic like Klint. But you have your uses. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Danica put a hand on Berig’s shoulder. “He’s right. You might not think so, Berig, but you’re quite possibly the bravest person I’ve ever seen. The way you fought against that snake was amazing. You knew you were in over your head, but you did it anyways.”
“Maybe I’m just an idiot, and I don’t know any better.”
At the front of the group, Klint let out a low laugh. “In my experience, there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Not sure which side you’re on just yet.”
“Thanks,” Berig said. “That’s reassuring.”
Klint flashed him a crooked smile. “I try my best.”
As they traveled through the forest, Berig joined in with their conversations, trying to feel more like he was part of the group. He had no idea why he was resistant to the idea. They were good people, and they'd accepted him, yet there was still that lingering doubt. All his life, he'd learned to live without depending on others.
And no one had ever depended on him.
Darek had warned them about the dangers of the forest, but they encountered nothing dangerous through their first day of travel. Still, every sound made Berig tense and peer into the distance. Again, he heard faint sounds the others couldn't.
That night, they settled down around a campfire, eating some wild rabbit they'd caught. Animals called out in the distance, but none were close enough to threaten.
Klint threw aside a bone. "Is the whole world outside the mountains gonna be like this?"
"Why?" Aric asked.
"Let's see. We've fought all these monsters. We've been in the middle of a clan war. We've been taken prisoner. Honestly, we're lucky to be alive. What's the point?" He shook his head. "Look, Aric. I like you. I know you need to be healed. But after that?"
Aric chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. "I have no idea. I don't even know if these sorcerers will help me. But those are concerns for later."
How could people think like that? Berig had always tried to live in the present, but his mind didn't listen. There were always future worries. Would he have enough food? Would he survive another winter on the streets? Would he stay out of prison?
"Klint, I know how you must feel," Danica said, "but at least you're a leader here. I feel like I have no reason to be here other than some cryptic words from Cyrus about how I might be important." She shook her head. "It's hard to stay positive through all this. It's hard to believe."
"Faith is rarely easy," Aric said.
Klint took a bite of his rabbit and spoke with his mouth full. "But who, or what, am I supposed to have faith in? Cyrus? God? These ridiculous Webs of Fate? In the end, the only thing I believe in is myself. It's always been that way."
Klint's philosophy felt achingly familiar. Berig had lived his life the same way, struggling to survive on the streets, putting faith in no one else.
Not even his brother. He still felt hollow when he thought of Marek's disappearance. Was it time to declare Marek dead?
"You do wonder," Danica said. "What are we going to do in Luminia?"
Aric leaned back against a nearby tree, weariness settling over his features. "I don't know. I'm sure we can start new lives there. The whole world can't be like these Clanlands."
"I don't know," Berig said. "Maybe Warrick was always telling the truth. Maybe he really was protecting us from things much worse."
Klint threw aside the last remnants of his dinner. "Maybe. I've never liked Warrick, but I've never hated him like some of you do. I worked for Warrick supporters, not just the Order. I worked for whoever would pay me the most money. I saw more of the nastiness in the Empire than just about anyone, but I also saw a great deal of stability and prosperity."
"None of these damned monsters," Berig said. "That's something, ain't it?"
"No war," Klint said.
Aric shook his head in disgust. "Warrick's still a tyrant."
"No one's denying that," Klint said, "but I have to think a tyrant's better than life out here. In the Empire, most people get by as long as they obey the law."
"The unjust law," Aric said, his features tightening. Berig had always known that Aric was a member of the Order, but had never truly seen the man's anger toward Warrick. Aric had always been calm, hiding his emotions much better than Berig ever could.
A twig snapped in the distance. Berig jerked upright, peering into the darkness.
Klint kept his voice low. "What is it?"
"Think I heard something."
Another twig snapped. Leaves rustled. Berig squinted into the darkness—was that a shadow? Something moving? A person? A monster?
"Put out the fire," he whispered, trembling.
Aric and Klint kicked some dirt atop the fire. Beneath a sudden blanket of darkness, Berig could barely see the others, and they probably couldn't see him at all. That darkness felt suffocating as Berig inched toward the distant sounds.
More twigs snapping. More rustling. Soft but menacing steps.
A light flared in the distance, and cold dread gripped at Berig's insides. Goosebumps crawled across his flesh. He got to his feet, worried he was ma
king the wrong decision, and crept silently toward the sound, picking his way through the underbrush.
"What the hell are you doing," Klint whispered harshly.
Berig ignored him, pressing farther into the darkness. The moonlight was a dim shadow of itself beneath the thick canopy. Voices came out of the darkness, low grunts that were unfamiliar at first.
What was Berig doing out here? Had his success with the snake given him too much confidence? He was an idiot. He had to get back to the others.
But something held him in place. Fear? Courage? Sheer stupidity?
He soon came to understand the grunting, though it still sounded like another language. Two voices came from the darkness, brimming with anger.
"They're trespassing in our lands. They must die."
"No. We must take them prisoner. See what they're doing here."
"You're a fool. Humans always mean us harm. We should kill them."
"They shouldn't die needlessly."
"If they fight back, I will not hesitate to kill them."
"I'll grant you that right. But remember. I'm the leader here. You obey me."
"For now."
It didn't matter what these creatures—these goblins?—intended to do with Berig and his friends. Being a prisoner of theirs sounded little better than death, and maybe even worse. Berig turned, trying to step silently, but a twig crunched beneath his worn leather shoes. He cursed under his breath.
"You hear something?" said one of the goblins.
"One of the humans is nearby, listening to us."
"That doesn't matter. Humans don't understand our language."
That was strange. Berig could understand them just fine. Then again, when he thought about it, the words didn't sound like his language. It felt like something in his head was translating their words.
The threatening steps came closer, and soon Berig could see the goblins' shadows. He turned to run, but a rope went over his head, then tightened around his body. When he struggled against the rope, its grip only became tighter. His pulse pounded in his ears.
The goblins stepped out of the shadows. Berig tried to reach his sword but couldn't move his arms. He could still use his legs, though, and as soon as one of the goblins stepped within range, he kicked at the goblin's legs.
Something hard slammed against his head. There was a moment of excruciating pain before darkness overtook him.
Chapter 28: The Wanderer
Berig woke to a pounding head. Light glared in his eyes, and he couldn't make out anything. He felt a wet cloth against his head. The hand holding that cloth felt gentle, too gentle to be one of the goblins.
The room came into focus. He was in a wooden building, and a beautiful woman stood over him. She had light brown skin and black hair, but the most beautiful thing about her was her eyes. They were dark and mysterious and full of intelligence.
Was Berig still unconscious and dreaming? A woman this beautiful couldn't exist.
"Where am I?" Berig said weakly.
"Wanderer, you are under the protection of Clan Forest Snake. We encountered the goblins holding you captive. When they saw us, they ran and left you in the forest. We're glad to have found you, Wanderer."
Berig tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness hit him.
"Wanderer, you suffered quite a blow to the head. You need to relax. I have some healing talent, but it'll take time for you to recover. Give it at least a few hours."
"My friends are still out there," Berig said. "The goblins captured them."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Wanderer. We'll do what we can to help them, but you are more important. We must keep you safe."
Berig was making no sense of this. Why the hell was he important to these people? Didn't they understand that he didn't belong here? He had to save his friends. Somehow.
He tried to sit up again. The dizziness wasn't as bad this time, but he still lay back down.
"Wanderer, you need to rest."
"I don't want to rest," Berig said, sitting up and waiting for his dizziness to go away. "And why do you keep calling me Wanderer? You're saying it like it's some kinda title."
"It is a title," she said. "A very important title."
"I don't understand. How could I be important to you people?"
"I'll let my father explain." She smiled down at Berig. "I'm Lara, by the way. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Wanderer." She strode out of the room, then returned maybe a minute later. A middle-aged man with dark skin and a black beard stood with her.
"This is my father," Lara said, motioning for him to approach Berig.
The man stood at the edge of Berig's bed. "I am Zak, the clan chief."
"It's nice to meet you," Berig said, "but I really need to help my friends."
"I understand, Wanderer, but we can't rush these things. We'll send some of our warriors to help them. Don't concern yourself with their fates. No, your fate is much more important."
"I don't want to sound ungrateful," Berig said, "but why the hell am I more important?"
"He doesn't know who he is," Lara said to her father.
Zak frowned. "Hmm, this might be a tough one to explain."
"I think I know who I am," Berig said. "I'm Berig."
"That might be your name," Zak said, "but you are much more than a name. You are someone with the power to change the world."
Berig laughed, and his head pounded again. "Me? Changing the world? Is this some kinda joke? I'm just Berig. I've never amounted to anything, and I never will."
"We aren't concerned with your past," Zak said. "It's your future that's more important."
Berig groaned. "Don't tell me you've read these stupid Webs of Fate, too."
"We've read what we can. They show us many things."
Berig remembered now what Darek had told them about Clan Forest Snake. Strange. Mystical. There couldn't be any truth to what they said about him. Could there?
He thought of Cyrus, who hadn't seemed so strange. Cyrus had hinted that Berig might be destined for great things.
And Berig had pulled off quite a few heroic feats lately. Even a few months ago, he never would've dreamed of doing these things. He'd been different ever since Crayden. It had been subtle at first, but with every passing day, he was changing into someone new.
"And what have these Webs shown you about me?" Berig asked, trying to keep his tone calm and patient. As far as he could tell, these people meant no harm.
"Have you heard of the Great War?" Lara asked. She stood now at the edge of the room, frowning at Berig with concern.
"Yeah, I've heard of it," Berig said, "but that happened hundreds of years ago. How could it matter to me?"
"The Great War isn't over," Zak said. "The Webs have told us that much. In the near future, it will begin anew, and you will play a major role in that war. Without you, we cannot hope to prevail over Krinir."
"Who the hell is Krinir?" Berig asked.
"He's the source of all the monsters you see in our world. The source of everything that is evil. In the Great War, we exiled him to the Shadowed Land, but he will return, and when he does, we'll need powerful heroes to stand against him. We'll need you."
Berig fidgeted in the bed. "But I'm not powerful. I can't do magic. I'm a decent thief, but that's all I've got going for me."
"You're not powerful yet," Zak said.
"I don't care about any of this." Berig put his feet on the ground and slowly got to his feet. He wavered a bit before steadying his balance. "I just wanna help my friends."
"I'm afraid we can't let you do that," Zak said. He placed a hand on Berig's shoulder and gently pushed him back down to the bed.
Berig felt a stab of anger. "Am I a prisoner here?"
"Of course not," Zak said. "But you're too important to risk yourself. In time, you'll come to understand that. Until then, we'll have to keep you here."
Berig glared at him. "So I am a prisoner, then."
Zak shrugged. "If that's what you want to think
, then I suppose you are."
Lara stepped closer to Berig's bed. "My father only wants what's best for you, Wanderer."
"If I'm supposed to be some kinda hero, how can I do that sitting around here? I mean, aren't heroes supposed to do heroic things like saving their friends?
Zak sighed and leaned against the wooden wall. "I think you need some time to think. There will be guards outside the door. Please don't make them necessary."
He stepped out of the room, leaving Berig alone with Lara. She sat down at the edge of the bed, offering him a sympathetic smile. For a moment, he returned the smile, but then he remembered that he was a prisoner here.
"Do you agree with your father?" he asked.
"My father is perhaps a bit overprotective," she said, "but his heart's in the right place. I'm sure he'll come to understand that we can't keep you here." She ran a hand through her black hair, a gesture that only made her more beautiful. "I'm sorry about your friends."
Berig leaned against the wooden headboard. "Will he really send people to rescue them?"
"He will. My father is a man of his word." She shifted on the bed. "You'll get another chance to convince him to let you go, too. He's not normally this stubborn. I think he's surprised and afraid. Surprised that the Wanderer has come during his time as clan chief. Afraid that he'll do something to jeopardize the future. He isn't a bad man. Not at all."
Berig held back a sigh of frustration. "Can you please call me Berig? All this Wanderer business makes me feel queasy. I'm just Berig. I'm not some great hero. Not yet at least."
"All right, Berig," she said. "That is an interesting name. I've never heard it before."
"Yeah, I don't know where my parents got it."
"Well, I like it."
"Can I leave this room?" Berig asked. "I'm tired of sitting in bed." He glanced toward the wooden door, imagining the guards stationed beyond. "I promise I won't run. It'll help me feel less like a prisoner if I can at least walk around your settlement."
She rose from the bed. "Yes, I think we can allow that."
Berig got to his feet with Lara's help. He wavered less this time, though he still needed her support as they crossed the room. By the time they reached the door, he thought he could stand on his own. The pain in his head and his dizziness had faded.
The Shadowed Land Page 20