Cursed Bones (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five)

by David A. Wells

  Isabel quickly assessed her options and decided that attempting escape right now was unwise. She needed more information about her captors before she chose a course of action.

  “Very well,” she said. “I wouldn’t know which way to run anyway.”

  The guard cocked his head quizzically, as if he hadn’t expected her response.

  “Can I have something to eat?” she asked.

  He nodded, motioning to the table occupying the center of the guard chamber. A tray with a variety of tubers, berries, and fruits sat on the table, the remnants of the guards’ meal.

  Isabel wasn’t bashful. From the grumbling in her stomach, she suspected she’d been unconscious for days rather than hours. The food was surprisingly good, but before she’d eaten her fill, another man entered, followed by the third guard.

  This man was tall, easily over six feet, but not muscular like the guards. He was lithe and wiry as if he’d spent his days moving through the jungle. His hair was jet black, his complexion golden brown, and his eyes were dark and brooding. With a gesture, he dismissed the guards and sat down opposite Isabel, absentmindedly selecting a piece of fruit from the tray as he scrutinized his prisoner.

  She held his gaze for a moment and then went back to eating. For several moments neither said a word, they simply shared a meal in silence. Once he’d finished his piece of fruit, he took a drink from a nearby flagon and sat forward.

  “I am Trajan Karth. My father has summoned you. It will be a journey of several days. If you attempt to escape, you will be killed.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” Isabel said around a mouthful of food.

  He smiled curiously. “I would know why you have been summoned.”

  Isabel shrugged as she took another tuber from the plate. It had the texture of a sweet potato but wasn’t quite as rich.

  “Perhaps if you told me your name, it would shed some light on my father’s interest in you.”

  This time it was Isabel’s turn to smile, though without any hint of humor. “I’m Isabel Reishi,” she said, punctuating her statement by taking a big bite of tuber.

  Trajan’s eyes narrowed and he tensed ever so slightly, like a cat preparing to pounce. “I wasn’t aware that Phane had taken a woman,” he said.

  “Oh, he hasn’t, or at least he certainly hasn’t taken me,” Isabel said, washing her mouthful down with a long drink of warm ale from the nearest flagon. “My husband is Alexander Reishi, formerly Alexander Ruatha. From the looks of things, your father didn’t get the warning Alexander sent him in his dreams.”

  Trajan had been listening intently, clearly trying to discern the veracity of her words. His eyes went wide.

  “My father did receive a warning,” he said, “but he chose not to heed it until it was too late. My mother, two brothers, and a sister were lost in that attack, an attack that my father said could never happen. Fortunately, Erastus, our house man-at-arms, was paranoid enough to make preparations, and my father, sister, and I survived.”

  Isabel looked down at the table and nodded sadly. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she whispered. “There’s been too much suffering since Phane woke.”

  “On that count we agree,” Trajan said, “but I’m still confused by a great many things. Why were you with Phane’s men if your husband sent us warning against him?”

  “My husband and I are at war with Phane,” Isabel said. “But, for a number of reasons, Phane believes that I’ve turned against Alexander, so he’s issued orders that I’m to be treated with respect and brought before him.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then I intend to kill him,” Isabel said.

  Trajan stared incredulously, then burst out laughing.

  “I hate Phane as much as anyone,” he said, once he’d contained his mirthless laughter, “but I’m not fool enough to believe he would let you get close to him if you were any threat.”

  Isabel shrugged. “I guess it’s all a matter of perception. He believes that I’m his puppet, a tool he can use to undo my husband. That belief will allow me to get close enough to strike.”

  Trajan shook his head. “He’ll kill you.”

  “Perhaps,” Isabel said quietly. “But I have nowhere else to go.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  Isabel hesitated, unsure of how much she should reveal.

  “He’s infected me with his dark magic,” she said. “Even now, it’s working to subvert my free will and turn me against everything and everyone that I love.”

  Trajan sat back, staring at her intently.

  After a moment, Isabel decided she had a few questions of her own. “Why doesn’t my magic work?”

  “So you admit to being a witch,” Trajan said, sitting forward again.

  Isabel shrugged. “Of course I’m a witch. I’m a triumvir of the Reishi Coven.”

  Trajan frowned in confusion, appraising Isabel intently before speaking again. “Magic is forbidden on Karth. It has been since the end of the Reishi War. My father heard reports that you used magic to kill a man. That’s why we were sent to capture you.”

  “If the House of Karth outlawed magic, then how have you stood against the Regency for so long?” she asked.

  “The Regency also prohibits magic,” Trajan said. He paused, staring at the table as if weighing how much to tell her. “Only the witches of the Sin’Rath Coven possess magic on Karth,” Trajan said, “and they are widely believed to be a myth—a story parents tell their children to make them behave.”

  Isabel stopped chewing and stared at Trajan, her mind working furiously to understand the implications of his statement. “But you know otherwise,” she said.

  “Yes, the Sin’Rath are very real,” he said. “I do not trust them, yet they hold great sway over my father.” He stopped as if he’d said too much.

  “Trajan, I can help you kill Phane, but I need to know what I’m dealing with here. Did you capture me at the behest of this Sin’Rath Coven?”

  “I believe so,” he said. “The order came from my father, but he has been working very closely with the coven since the Regency attacked and scattered our forces into the jungle.”

  Isabel leaned forward intently. “Why won’t my magic work?” she asked again.

  He regarded her for a moment before nodding as he withdrew a vial from his pouch.

  “The jungle contains a great many plants,” he said. “This is nectar of the malaise weed. It diminishes a person’s emotions. It’s commonly used to aid people grieving for the loss of a loved one. My father’s orders were very specific. You are to be dosed with malaise-weed nectar once per day. I don’t pretend to understand why, but I was told that it will prevent you from using your magic.”

  She sat back in her chair and breathed a sigh of relief. At least the loss of her magic was only temporary.

  “Why don’t you trust the Sin’Rath?” she asked.

  “I will tell you a story,” he said. “Some years ago my eldest brother spoke harshly of the Sin’Rath. He told me how he resented the influence they held over our father and how he intended to reject their counsel once he ascended to the throne. Then he went to meet the witches for the first time.” Trajan paused, lost in thought.

  “He returned a changed man. He was enamored with them, spoke of their great beauty and wisdom, pledging to work hand in hand with the coven for the greater glory of Karth. My brother was not prone to sudden changes of mind; he was a very deliberate and thoughtful man. But one meeting with the Sin’Rath and he was under their spell.”

  “So you’ve never met them,” Isabel said.

  “No,” Trajan said, shaking his head. “My mother forbade it. I believe she secretly hated and feared them, though she never spoke openly of it. I’m to meet the Sin’Rath for the first time when I arrive with you,” he said as he stood.

  “I need to think about everything you’ve told me. If you truly are Phane’s enemy, then perhaps together we could bring him down. There will be more time to talk on the trail. We’l
l leave within the hour. Your equipment will be returned to you, but your weapons will not.”

  “Fair enough,” Isabel said. “What about my armor? The jungle’s a dangerous place.”

  He appraised her for a moment before nodding.

  Chapter 4

  Trajan and his twenty men moved through the jungle with the same kind of ease that Isabel could travel through the Great Forest. They picked their path intuitively, selecting a course that meandered through the dense underbrush to make the trek easier while diminishing any sign of their passage.

  Two men escorted Isabel at all times, always careful to guide her safely through the jungle, often correcting her course and pointing out potential dangers. Of course, their true purpose was to prevent her from escaping, but she didn’t care since she had no such intention. She had nowhere to go and no idea how to get there. Her course was set. She would speak with the King of Karth. Things would become clearer after that.

  During the journey, she peppered her escorts with questions, trying to learn all she could about the jungle, its many plants, both dangerous and medicinal, and its animals, both the ones she was familiar with and the more exotic creatures that roamed the dense wilds.

  Each day, Trajan made her drink a cup of tea laced with a drop of malaise-weed nectar to inhibit her emotional intensity and render her connection to the firmament too dangerous to access. She accepted without protest, although she did complain about the bitter taste.

  On the third day of travel, Trajan dropped back from the front of the group, dismissing Isabel’s escorts with a gesture. They faded into the jungle, while remaining close enough to come to his aid should the need arise.

  “My men tell me you’re full of questions,” Trajan said.

  “I grew up in a forest,” Isabel said. “I can tell you a thousand things about that forest that a casual observer would never know. Your jungle has sparked my curiosity, so I ask a lot of questions.”

  He chuckled. “One could spend his whole life walking the jungle and learn something new each day. We have shamans who study their whole lives, passing their lore to the next shaman-in-waiting, and yet there are always things they do not know.”

  “Earlier this morning your men prevented me from walking beneath a particularly beautiful tree,” Isabel said, “instead, steering me in a wide path around it, but they wouldn’t tell me why.”

  Trajan nodded. “I instructed them to avoid revealing anything that you could use as a weapon. In this case, I believe they were taking that instruction a bit too seriously. That kind of tree is favored by yellow-spotted frogs.”

  “You’ve lost me,” Isabel said. “What’s dangerous about frogs?”

  “These frogs in particular secrete a potent toxin on their backs and bellies,” Trajan said. “One touch and you would die within minutes unless the antidote was administered quickly.”

  “What’s the antidote?”

  “Oddly enough, it’s the milk from vines of that very tree,” Trajan said.

  “See,” Isabel said, “that’s why I ask so many questions.”

  Trajan chuckled again.

  “I have a friend who would love this place,” Isabel said. “He’s an alchemist, and if you think I ask a lot of questions, he would hound you day and night … unless you made him something to eat, then he’d only ask questions between mouthfuls.”

  “I’m not familiar with that word, alchemist,” Trajan said.

  “An alchemist mixes potions,” Isabel said. “He’s a type of wizard. His magic allows him to make powerful concoctions, provided he has the right ingredients.”

  Trajan frowned and fell silent. Isabel waited for him to speak again, simply keeping pace as they wended their way through the jungle.

  “Magic is forbidden on Karth.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It has always been forbidden, ever since the Reishi War.”

  “So you’ve said. But why?” Isabel asked. “The Sin’Rath use magic. Why are they allowed to when no one else is?”

  Trajan frowned again but said nothing. Isabel let him brood over his answer. He was silent for a long time before he spoke again.

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly enough that only Isabel could hear him. “I have often wondered about that very question.”

  Isabel nodded to herself, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. She only had a rough outline, but it was slowly filling in.

  “Have you asked your father?”

  “No.”

  She sensed tension building within the young crown prince of Karth, so she let the line of questioning go for the time being and simply enjoyed the beauty and novelty of the jungle.

  “I’m surprised you’ve kept up with our pace,” Trajan said some time later.

  Isabel shrugged. “This last year has been … arduous,” she said. “I’ve traveled a lot—fought a lot. I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been.”

  Trajan stopped dead in his tracks and whistled a birdcall. His men fell silent, frozen in place, blending in with the jungle in an instant. Isabel stopped as well, tipping her head back and linking with Slyder.

  He’d been flying through the canopy, keeping a careful watch over Isabel while remaining undetected. She saw the threat in an instant. A jaguar was stalking them, crouching in the jungle brush and creeping toward one of the men on the outside of the group. She brought her mind back from Slyder, debating with herself about the best course of action. She could leave the big cat to the soldiers or take control of it. If she controlled it, she could keep it a secret or she could reveal the power she retained in spite of the malaise-weed nectar.

  She decided to be bold.

  With a thought, she linked her mind with the cat’s and imposed her will on the powerful jungle predator.

  “It’s just a cat,” she said to Trajan as she began strolling toward it. “Here kitty, kitty.”

  The jaguar was a full-grown male, easily eight feet from nose to tail and more than two hundred pounds of graceful power. The men cautiously formed a circle around Isabel and the cat, poised to strike. She stilled them with a gesture as the black cat strode up to her and nuzzled her belly. She returned his affections by scratching him behind the ears. After a moment, he rolled over onto his back, exposing his belly for her to rub.

  She smiled, kneeling next to him to oblige, eliciting a deep, rumbling purr from the cat that filled the stunned silence. She looked up and smiled at Trajan, holding his dark eyes purposefully, as if to say “I know something you don’t know.” She stood and the cat rolled to his feet, rubbing against her side.

  “I think I’ll call you Shadowfang,” Isabel said.

  “How?” Trajan said. “How is this possible? I was assured that the malaise-weed nectar would prevent you from using magic.”

  “And where do you suppose those assurances came from?” Isabel asked pointedly. “The Sin’Rath, maybe? Looks like they were wrong.”

  She looked around at the mixture of fear and awe on the faces of the men surrounding her, weapons still at the ready.

  “He won’t hurt you, any of you,” she said. “In fact, he’ll ensure that other predators remain at a distance while we travel.”

  “You expect us to travel with a jaguar?” one of the men asked.

  “I do,” Isabel said.

  “No,” Trajan said.

  “Would you try to kill him?” Isabel asked, facing Trajan.

  “No,” he said. “The jaguar is our family crest. The House of Karth holds them sacred.”

  “Well then, I don’t see the problem,” Isabel said as if they were discussing what to have for breakfast.

  He stared at the cat for a moment before nodding slowly. “I do not like magic,” he said, “and I’m coming to understand why it has been forbidden—this is not natural.”

  From that point on, the men looked at Isabel differently, almost as if they were wondering if they had somehow become her prisoner and not the other way around. Shadowfang ranged out around the group, cha
sing off any other predators that were lying in wait. The days ran together until Isabel wasn’t sure how many had passed when they finally arrived at their destination.

  Trajan led them into a crack in a large stone that in turn led into a narrow ravine completely covered over by the jungle. Isabel commanded Shadowfang to remain in the area but to fend for himself, avoiding humans, until she returned. The ravine went deeper and deeper until Trajan stopped and unlatched a secret door fashioned to look like part of the rock face of the ravine wall. The door opened into a passage.

  From there, the journey took another two days. Isabel used Slyder to keep track of which way they were traveling so she could keep both the hawk and the jaguar moving in the right direction. The passages were dark and dank, sometimes natural stone, other times cut from bedrock. When they finally came to a well-fortified stone door, Isabel instructed Shadowfang and Slyder to take up residence in one of the larger trees nearby.

  The door opened to a roomful of soldiers all arrayed before it, shielded by fortifications and armed with all manner of heavy weapons, crossbows, and ballistae.

  “Prince Trajan, you are a welcome sight,” said a man wearing a uniform with emblems of rank.

  “Thank you, General Rashford,” Trajan said. “It’s been an arduous yet relatively safe journey.”

  “Your father will be greatly relieved to hear you’ve arrived,” Rashford said. “He’d never admit it, but he’s been worried about you since he sent you to apprehend the witch.”

  Isabel cleared her throat and fixed the general with a glare.

  “General Rashford, this is Isabel Reishi,” Trajan said, letting the import of her name sink in. “She claims to be at war with Phane.”

  “Is that so?” Rashford said. “We’ll see about that. Your father wishes to speak to her. I’ll send word of your arrival at once.”

  “Thank you, General,” Trajan said.

  He led Isabel through the fortifications that defended the cavernous entrance to the House of Karth’s secret base of operations. Many of the soldiers guarding the room glared at her with open hatred. Isabel ignored them.