Journey to Queyon: The Innocence Cycle, Book 3

by J D Abbas

  After tracking the tentacles into the forest for nearly a hundred yards, Shatur stopped cold and stood in fearful awe as he gazed up at the most massive plant he’d ever seen. It stood nearly fifty feet high with a girth of at least ten feet. It had pushed its way through the trunk of an ancient oak, which lay in splintered pieces around its base. Shoots spread out in every direction, entwining other trees and covering the ground. All of the vines originated from this one plant.

  Shatur cringed as he studied the area. The forest floor was in constant motion like a pit full of snakes. Snakes poised, ready to strike, longing hungrily to squeeze the life from their prey. An eerie, rattling hum added to the macabre scene as the vines slithered over fallen, dried leaves.

  “We need to burn this thing at the root,” Shatur said. “We can use the tree it overtook for kindling.”

  One of the men pulled a tinderbox from a pouch on his hip and started a small fire. Once it grew they took branches and lit them in the flames then strategically placed them around the mother vine. As the dead trunk that enwrapped the vine smoldered and burst into flame, the tentacles, some of them several inches in diameter, lashed out like whips, striking whatever they could. Soon the fire climbed up the trunk and burned the hundreds of tendrils that reached out from the source, severing them from their host.

  The mother vine hissed as if steam were building in her belly. From the core of the tree trunk a strange, tulip-shaped blossom, the size of a grown man, emerged, fiery red and menacing. The blossom spiraled and bent toward the Guardians, its enormous petals spreading out and folding back revealing a gaping hole that seemed to extend far into the earth. Something like a moan rose from this pit, slowly changing to a high-pitched whine as layer after layer of the plant continued to burn. Then, without warning, a puff of grey powder shot out from the hole, as if the plant were spitting on its assailants, hitting six of them squarely in the face and sending them to the ground writhing in pain, an act of final protest before the flames consumed her. A deafening shriek filled the air, swallowing the men’s agonized cries, and the charred stalk toppled with a thud that shook the forest floor.

  A foul, choking stench permeated the air, forcing the remaining men to cover their faces and move back to the river, dragging with them the ones who had been injured. They threw them into the water in an attempt to stop the corrosion of the powder that was burning layer after layer of flesh with each passing moment.

  Those who had remained by the water’s edge were still working to awaken Silvandir and Tobil. They had removed hundreds of sleep-inducing spores that had attached to their flesh. By the time Shatur returned, a still groggy Silvandir was sitting up while Tobil, though awake, could not yet move from off the ground.

  The six that had plunged into the soothing waters of the river now dragged themselves to shore and collapsed alongside Silvandir and Tobil, panting laboriously. Areas of their faces were crimson red and sagged as if their flesh had melted. The uninjured helped them to their feet and, with their support, they headed back to camp.

  In spite of his pain, Silvandir staggered to his feet and stumbled off toward the camp. “I have to check on Elena.”

  Shatur hurried after him and slid his shoulder under Silvandir’s arm to steady him. “I know I can’t stop you, but let’s at least get you there in one piece.”

  Chapter 41

  By evening, Silvandir and Tobil were fully recovered, and Elena, albeit sleepy, seemed to suffer no other ill effects from the encounter. The six who had been burned suffered great pain although Dalgo and Braiden had used their best Elrodanar salves to treat the wounds.

  Elbrion had gone to study the remains of the plant while Elena slept. He had just returned.

  “What did you find?” Celdorn asked.

  “I believe it is a relative of what the Elrodanar call the arhemina, the stinging vine. But it is of an unnatural size. The arhemina I have seen are no more than two or three feet high at the base, with tendrils no thicker than a strand of yarn. They use their spores to paralyze insects, which the tendrils carry to the main vine where they are consumed in a mouth-like structure. It makes one wonder what kinds of things this massive plant has devoured.”

  Elena shuddered. “I hope I wasn’t meant to be its next meal.”

  “The plant almost seemed to have intelligence and a desire particularly for you,” Silvandir said. “The vines fought with me to keep you and lashed out as if angry when I freed you.”

  “That is disturbing.” Elena grimaced as a snake-like dread squirmed through her.

  “Yes, it is,” Celdorn agreed. “And all the more reason why we need to guard you carefully as we proceed. There are many servants of the Zhekhum in places we would not suspect as we were painfully reminded near the Tulegar Gap.”

  Dalgo joined them.

  “How are the men who were burned?” Celdorn asked.

  “Miserable, but stable,” Dalgo replied. “It was like their flesh just dissolved when hit by this substance. They said it was a powder, but on their skin it turned to a sticky paste that adhered to their flesh; it was difficult to remove. And rather than having the numbing, paralyzing effect of the spores that struck Elena, Silvandir, and Tobil, this substance actually stimulates sensation as if the plant were striking out with the intent of inflicting pain. The powder got in one of Broman’s eyes and destroyed his vision on that side. Rhonog inhaled some; his throat is on fire, and he’s having difficulty breathing. I’m not sure what the outcome will be. The rest mostly lost flesh on their faces and hands. Their clothing protected them from worse damage.”

  Celdorn rose and paced as he pondered this information. He stopped abruptly. “Elena, I want you to go to the shelter for the night. I’ll have the men bring you food.” Then he turned to Silvandir. “You stay with her. I don’t want her going anywhere alone. Our original company will camp around her, and I’ll have men patrol the woods throughout the night.” Celdorn’s tension moved into Elena’s body. She wondered what else was out there in these woods.

  “Yes, Celdorn.” Silvandir stood and held out his hand to Elena. “My lady.” He smiled and bowed slightly.

  That small action seemed to drive away the fear of the last few hours. Elena broke into a grin and laid her hand in Silvandir’s with a nod. “Kind sir.”

  Silvandir escorted her to the cave-like structure they were using for their camp. “I’m sorry we don’t have better accommodations for you. Since Celdorn wants you here and not in one of the tents, we had to make due. We’ve padded your bedroll as best we could so that you’ll not be excessively uncomfortable.” Elena gave a weary sigh, and he gazed at her affectionately. “It won’t always be like this. One day we’ll have a home.”

  Tears immediately burned. “Are you certain?” She gazed up at him, blinking hard, wishing she had his confidence. “I don’t foresee any time of rest. I only see it growing worse the closer we get to Queyon.”

  Silvandir held her face. “We will have a home one day, and we will raise this child in peace.” He kissed her forehead. “Then you will have all the things you deserve.”

  “You are a hopeless romantic,” Elena replied with a smile. “But I like your version of the future much better. Hold onto it for both of us.”

  Silvandir pressed his lips into hers, gently at first, then more urgently, startling her. As they parted, neither of them quite ready to give up the moment, he said, “I will remind you of it as often as possible.” He drew a deep breath, shook his head, and took a quick step back.

  Elena felt his hunger and, to her surprise, found herself longing to respond. She likewise withdrew, shaken by the urges. Before, she’d always been repulsed by the advances of men and didn’t know what to do with these new feelings.

  Silvandir noticed. “What is it?” He reached out and stroked her cheek. She pulled her face away, eyes averted. “Did I offend you just now?”

  Elena hung her head and turned to the side. “No, Silvandir, you did nothing wrong.”

  He
stepped in front of her. “Speak your heart, my love. I won’t take offense.” He again reached for her cheek.

  A disloyal tear slid down it and struck his hand. His expression twisted. “Did I frighten you with the intensity of my kiss?” he asked, cupping her face.

  “No. It’s not you. ” Her tears came more steadily, and her chin began to quiver. His eyes pleaded with her to continue. “I can’t... I don’t trust myself,” she murmured.

  Silvandir frowned. “Trust yourself to what?”

  “To... to not take advantage of you.” Her words were barely audible.

  Silvandir surprised her by laughing heartily. “Take advantage of me? I would gladly and willingly give myself to you were such an offer made.” The look she gave him stopped him cold. “I’m sorry, Elena. I’ve hurt you.” His voice dripped with regret.

  “You forget what happened in Kelach. You forget what I did,” she whispered. “I don’t want to become Siuna.”

  Silvandir closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at her again, there was such sadness there. “I shouldn’t have made light of your distress.” He stroked her cheek, wiping the wayward tears. “What is it you’re afraid of?”

  It was so difficult to put into words. “These ... feelings inside me.”

  “What feelings?” He held her face firmly in his hands, his gaze earnest. “Please, I want to understand.”

  She couldn’t bear the intensity and looked away. “When... when you kiss me or... or touch me tenderly, I feel... I feel this... longing inside of me. It frightens me. I fear what it may induce me to do.”

  “I am overjoyed to hear you say that.”

  Her eyes shot up and met his. “Why?”

  He broke into a wide smile. “You just described what I’ve felt since the first night we spoke in Kelach,” he confessed. “That’s what people feel when they’re attracted to someone. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s natural. Those very sensations have been the fodder of poets for ages.”

  “Don’t they frighten you?”

  “In truth,” he searched her eyes, “yes, at times. When I didn’t know if you would return my affection, they nearly ate me alive. Then after you agreed to spend your life with me, there have been times when I feared I wouldn’t be able to keep my passion contained.” When she tensed, he tightened his grip on her face. “Elena, I’m a determined man with a will of iron. I’ll keep myself in check. I won’t dishonor you. I promise you that.”

  “What if...what if it is I who cannot control myself?” Her tears renewed. “What if...”

  “Shh.” Silvandir laid his finger on her lips, gently wiping her tears with his thumbs. “I do not fear you. Even if Siuna were to resurface, I will protect your honor.”

  “My honor?” Elena scoffed. “I have no honor to pro—”

  “Stop,” Silvandir said sharply. “I won’t listen to you denigrate the one I love.” When she cringed, he softened his tone and stroked her cheeks. “We’re starting anew, Elena. What happened in the past was not by your choice, so as far as I am concerned, you’ve been with no one else.”

  Elena stared into Silvandir’s eyes, searching for the truth of his words. “I don’t know how you can look at me and speak like that, but I pray you mean every word.” She turned her face into his hand and kissed it.

  “I do.” He pulled her into his arms. “Trust me.”

  ~

  Celdorn and the rest of his inner circle joined Elena and Silvandir a short time after the moon began to rise. They ate a simple meal together and were conversing quietly when they heard the warning cry of a sentry in the distance.

  “Riders!” a nearer sentry called, immediately setting the group on edge.

  Instructing the others to remain with Elena, Celdorn descended quickly to the main camp with Elbrion close behind.

  The guards had stopped an approaching company, northeast of the camp on the road from the valley that eventually led to Dussendor. There were ten riders in tunics marked with the emblem of that fortress. Two dozen Ilqazar encircled them in the shadows, unbeknownst to the travelers.

  When Celdorn approached, the lead rider leapt from his horse and dropped to one knee. “Lord Celdorn, I bring you greetings from Zarandiel and Charaq.”

  “Keymar!” Celdorn exclaimed, signaling for him to rise. “This is most unexpected.” He stepped forward and embraced the young man heartily.

  Keymar stiffened then relaxed, returning the hug. “It is good to see you again, my lord.”

  Celdorn released the young man and looked him over. He seemed to be of sound health. “I trust all is well with the children.”

  “For the most part, my lord.” Keymar glanced over his shoulder at the riders accompanying him.

  Celdorn studied Keymar’s group, his attention drawn to a rider in the rear whose hood was up, covering his face. By his stature, Celdorn guessed him to be not yet into his teens, and he was hunched as if ill or injured.

  Keymar kept his voice low. “We had an ... incident.” He cleared his throat and leaned in closer. “With one of the children. Charaq conferred with Zarandiel, and he sent us to ask for your assistance with this ... situation.”

  Celdorn laid his hand on the young man’s shoulder and steered him away from the others. “We can talk over here.” When they were a sufficient distance, Celdorn asked, “What is it, Keymar? You seem agitated.”

  “You may have noticed the young rider in the back.”

  Celdorn nodded. “Who is he?”

  “She,” Keymar corrected. Celdorn’s brows went up. “She’s one of the young girls we found chained in the Farak caves. She’s only thirteen and yet she has already despaired of life. In her time at Dussendor, she’s attempted to destroy herself twice. She has thrown herself into the fire and slashed her arms.” Keymar clutched his forearm as if his own wounds cried out in empathy. A vivid image of Keymar slumped in the dungeon of Kelach, near death from self-inflicted wounds flashed in Celdorn’s mind.

  “During our journey through the valley, she’s run off several times and yesterday she tried to drown herself in the river. If a Guardian hadn’t happen to pass by at just that time, she would have succeeded.” Keymar looked down and kicked the dirt. “She was my responsibility, and I utterly failed. I’m at my wit’s end. I didn’t know managing a girl of thirteen could be so demanding.”

  Celdorn chuckled to himself. Raised with brothers, Keymar had no more experience with young women than Celdorn did when Elena came into their lives. He clasped the young Guardian’s shoulder.

  “It was Zarandiel’s hope that perhaps Elbrion could enter her mind as he did mine and assist with her memories or perhaps the Lady Elena could speak with her from her own experience and teach her a way to live with her history.”

  “We can certainly make the attempt,” Celdorn agreed. “But, as you know, our time is limited. We can’t risk staying here for long. Every day we delay potentially puts Elena in more danger.”

  Keymar nodded. “I understand. Zarandiel and Charaq thought she and I might travel with your contingent until we reach Queyon, giving Elbrion and Elena more opportunity.”

  Celdorn rubbed the back of his neck. “While that seems reasonable, there is of course the issue of your history with Elena. It seems only right that I leave it to her to decide if she’d be comfortable with that arrangement.”

  Keymar’s shoulders sagged. “I expected as much. She was gracious in forgiving me in spite of the great offense and shame I caused her, but I didn’t know if it would cause her further distress to have me continually present. If so, we will have to seek a different solution.”

  “Only Elena can answer that,” Celdorn said. “We’ll approach her in the morning. In the meantime, you and your men may set up camp with us and get some rest, though I’m not quite sure what to do with the young girl. We can’t simply throw her among the men, especially given her history, but I don’t want to trouble Elena with this tonight.”

  “We brought a tent for the girl. The men and I
will sleep just outside it, so we can protect her, both from others and herself. We can’t trust her alone.”

  “That should suffice for the time being. We’ve put Elena in a shelter within the rocks.” He pointed toward the hills. “The nine of us who first set out with her will be surrounding her during the night. Come first light, find me there. The sentries can point the way. And we’ll speak with Elena about your request. After that, we’ll decide how best to handle the situation with the girl.”

  “Thank you, Lord Celdorn. I will anxiously await the dawn.”

  “Try to rest.” Celdorn squeezed his shoulder. “If you do end up accompanying us, you may not get a great deal of opportunity to do so in the near future.”

  “I will make every effort, my lord.” Keymar bowed slightly and slipped into the night.

  Chapter 42

  Sometime later that night Keymar awoke, immediately alert. A strange buzzing sensation coursed through his body. He jumped when twigs snapped in the nearby bushes. He rose from his bedroll and moved around the girl’s tent toward the woods behind, his hand on the hilt of his sword. A shaft of moonlight pierced through the leaves of the trees and fell on the forest floor. A silhouette passed through its beam, then another, and another. Keymar squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again, not trusting what he saw. Suddenly everything in him went into full motion.

  “Zakad!” he cried.

  The creatures stopped slinking and fixed a deathly glare on him. Then they turned and moved toward the camp.

  “Zakad!” he called again, but no one roused.

  Keymar ran toward the lead creature, his sword at the ready. He stopped abruptly when his eye caught more movement. When he surveyed the area, his blood ran cold. Zakad slunk into the clearing from every direction, moving toward the sleeping Guardians. No one moved. No one heeded his warning.

  “Zakad! There are Zakad in the camp.”