by Ginn Hale
“A message for Lieutenant Montaval! Make way!” Kiram roared. Men and women bolted out of his path. Kiram didn’t dare look back to see how well the confusion in his wake masked Javier, Elezar and Nestor’s passage through the crowd.
“Make way!” Kiram drew as much attention to himself as he could. “A message for Lieutenant Montaval! In the name of the royal bishop, make way!”
Hearing his name called, the lieutenant commanded travelers to the side, just as Javier had said he would.
Verano dodged a slow-moving old man and nearly threw Kiram as he leaped past two snarling Mirogoth hounds.
Ahead of him a path cleared. The city guards looked curious but made no attempt to approach. They left Kiram to Lieutenant Montaval and his hulking pikemen. The portly lieutenant started towards Kiram. The pikemen studied him, some with curiosity, others with suspicion. But not one of them watched the movements to Kiram’s left.
“Message for Lieutenant Montaval!” Kiram hollered as if he could some how fail to recognize who the lieutenant was.
“What’s your damn message!” the lieutenant demanded.
Verano pranced and snorted beneath Kiram, seeming to catch Kiram’s nervous energy.
“Javier Tornesal is on his way!” Kiram pointed back through the crowd and out to his right, where a group of horse traders mingled among carriages and carts.
As the lieutenant and his pikemen turned to the right, Nestor and Elezar hurled their oil jars at the pikemen. The clay shattered, spattering oil, and Javier charged forward. White flames gushed from his hands and wild sparks sprayed out. In an instant the oil caught fire and the pikemen fled or fell burning. Lieutenant Montaval spun on Kiram and Kiram kicked the man back into the wall.
Javier charged past the burning gates and Kiram joined Elezar and Nestor behind him. Mounted city guards lit out behind them but gave up the chase soon after the road turned into the wild northern woods. Kiram suspected that the speed with which they abandoned their pursuit had more to do with their resentment of the royal bishop’s troops than the threatening shadows of the forest.
Still the shadows gave Kiram a chill and sped his heart as they seemed to snake and dance between the wind-tossed branches.
As they continued riding, fatigue and a growing familiarity with the forest darkness wore away the edge of Kiram’s nervousness. As much as the surrounding shadows seemed to move and watch, the road they traveled seemed always the same. Hours passed. Hunger gnawed at Kiram’s stomach. The sunlight dimmed and cold evening winds whipped over the open expanse of the road. At last Javier signaled them to halt.
Kiram’s legs almost buckled beneath him as he swung off Verano. Nestor moaned softly and rubbed his own back.
The four of them stumbled off the road and found a small glade where the horses could feed on wild grass and flowers.
The only bedding to be found were mats of soft moss and saddle blankets. Nestor had brought several wedding cookies and a goat-skin of water but there was nothing else to eat or drink. Kiram knew that hunting now would only waste his remaining arrows. It was far too dark to find any animal, much less hit one.
“Help yourselves to my share of the bounty. I’m too tired to care.” Elezar dropped down onto his saddle blanket and closed his eyes.
“Wait!” Nestor dug into his dusty coat. “I have a couple marzipan pears, as well. Here, Elezar, you love them.”
Elezar gave no response, but Javier took one and thanked Nestor. Kiram frowned down at Elezar’s still form. In the dim light he couldn’t be sure but it seemed to him that some of the blood on Elezar’s coat was still wet.
“Here, Kiram.” Nestor handed him a golden cookie studded with candy rosettes. Kiram ate it thankfully and drank a little of Nestor’s water.
“Should we make a fire?” Kiram asked.
“It’s not cold enough that we’ll freeze without one. And the light will only attract unwanted attention.” Javier winced as he knelt down on his blanket. He ran his hand over his thigh. The deep shadows didn’t quite hide the look of pain on his face. Then a little light flickered beneath his hands and Javier relaxed back against the trunk of a tree.
“We all just need to rest right now,” Javier murmured and then he fell silent. After a few more moments, Kiram heard his breathing deepen and slow to the rhythm of sleep.
“I feel like one of us should keep guard, or something,” Nestor said quietly.
“Do you think you could stay awake?” Kiram asked.
“No,” Nestor admitted.
“Me either,” Kiram replied. “At least if we sleep we’ll all be rested by the morning.”
“True,” Nestor agreed. They both settled in their blankets. Kiram watched the overhead stars. Nestor nibbled the last of his marzipan pear.
“Hell of a honeymoon,” Nestor sighed softly, almost speaking to himself.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Couldn’t be helped, could it?” Nestor responded.
“You could have stayed at the Grunito house.”
“Nah.” Nestor shook his head. “Even Riossa knew that I had to stand with my friends when it came to a fight.” Nestor lay back in his blanket.
Kiram could think of a lot of men and women who wouldn’t have agreed with that sentiment. Certainly Musni wouldn’t have put a friend’s welfare before his own pleasure.
“You’re the best friend any man could hope for, Nestor.”
“Thanks.” Nestor sounded touched and being a Cadeleonian no doubt the sentiment embarrassed him a little. “No point in falling in love with me, though. I’m a married man now.”
Kiram laughed and then he wished Nestor good night. Nestor gave a groggy response, already settling into sleep.
Kiram’s blanket reeked of animal sweat but he didn’t care. He was just relieved that they had all gotten away. He glanced again to Elezar. He lay so still, his chest hardly rising with breath. Kiram wondered if he should wake him. Elezar would hate that. Doubtless he’d call Kiram some filthy name. Elezar shifted a little and Kiram let go of his worry.
He slept and dreamed of screaming horses and the sound of arrows plunging into living flesh. Blood spilled, turned black, and moved like a dark stream as it pooled around Kiram. Something cold and terrible pierced his flesh, plunging deep into his chest. A dark hand held him against escape. He tried to cry out but he couldn’t draw a breath.
Kiram.
The voice was soft and familiar. The pain of his dream seemed to lift.
Kiram, you must wake up.
Alizadeh, Kiram thought and even in his sleep his hand curled around the lotus medallion he wore.
Wake up! You are in danger and your friend is dying!
Kiram’s eyes shot open. Predawn light and long blue shadows filled the small glade. Alizadeh stood a few feet in front of him beneath a tall elm tree. A cold wind rustled through the branches and Alizadeh’s form flickered and shuddered and for an instant Kiram glimpsed black crows’ wings and glassy eyes staring at him from the hollows of Alizadeh’s body.
I cannot hide you from the shadow curse much longer. You must be quick. Wake the others.
Kiram staggered to his feet. He shook Nestor awake and then Javier, but Elezar only groaned. His body felt like ice.
“Who is that?” Nestor stared at Alizadeh and held his blanket close as if he’d been found naked. “How did he find us?”
“It’s all right, Nestor. He’s my teacher.” Javier stepped closer to Alizadeh and held up his hand in a Bahiim gesture of welcome that Alizadeh returned.
The shadow curse is hunting you and you are too far from the Circle of Red Oaks for me to hide your presence any longer. Alizadeh’s voice carried over them like a whispering breeze.
Still lying in his saddle blanket, Elezar opened his eyes but didn’t seem to see Kiram, much less Alizadeh. He closed his eyes again and didn’t respond as Kiram shook him harder.
Ride the Old Road, Alizadeh told Javier. The blessed willows will know the shajdi’s light an
d protect your path to the foot of Zancoda. But you must be fast. Death is already among you.
Alizadeh suddenly turned his head, and again Kiram caught the flash of crow’s feathers and sharp beaks. Alizadeh looked straight at Elezar.
As if pulled by an invisible force Elezar’s eyes opened and he lifted his head to face Alizadeh.
If you throw away your life, boy, then I will lay claim to it. Your strength is needed now. Rise and live!
Alizadeh shuddered and then his body broke apart as if it were no more than a play of light upon the elm leaves. Hundreds of black crows rose from the surrounding trees. They circled and then plunged down upon Elezar. Kiram fell back as a powerful wind pushed him aside. Nestor cried out in horror and stumbled to his feet. Only Javier remained still and calm.
The crows struck Elezar like shadows, falling across his body without leaving a mark. Yet with each impact Elezar gasped in a breath and shook. Color rose in his cheeks and light shone in his gaze. Then the crows were gone and the entire forest seemed strangely quiet.
Elezar sat up, breathing fast, his face sweating and flushed.
“You should have told me you were injured!” Javier frowned at Elezar.
“You had enough to worry about.” Elezar looked away.
“Your death wouldn’t exactly take a load off my mind, Elezar,” Javier snapped.
Elezar’s jaw worked and he sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful next time.”
Kiram supposed that was the best any of them could hope for but Nestor looked deeply hurt. Despite Elezar’s embarrassed expression Nestor threw his arms around his older brother, hugging him and then bursting into tears.
“Nestor.” Elezar’s face flushed deeper red but his voice went soft. “Nestor, I won’t do it again, all right. I promise. I’m fine…Nestor, you have to let me get up.”
Nestor drew back and wiped his face with his dirty shirtsleeve. “You better not die.”
“Same goes for you,” Elezar returned. Kiram didn’t think he’d ever seen Elezar look so touched or so self-conscious all at once.
“All right. Now that we’re all agreed that staying alive is the course we want to follow,” Javier interrupted, “we need to get moving. There is something worse than the bishop’s men after us now. If it catches us I’m not sure that any of us will survive.”
“What do you mean?” Elezar asked. “What is it?”
“The Tornesal curse.” Javier rolled up his saddle blanket and quickly buckled his sword belt around his waist. He didn’t offer any further explanation but both Nestor and Elezar seemed to catch his urgency.
They gathered their gear and saddled the horses. Kiram’s mouth tasted like dirt and his hair was full of fallen leaves and moss. His body ached and the morning cold numbed his fingers. But despite clumsy discomfort, the memory of the shadow curse hunting him sped his movements.
“The Tornesal curse?” Nestor fumbled with his stirrup and then climbed into his saddle.
Javier gave him a curt nod but his attention was on the surrounding trees. He stroked Lunaluz’s neck absently.
“It’s taken possession of Fedeles and we have to get to the academy if we’re going to stop it and save him,” Kiram explained.
“And that man just now, was he a ghost? Or some kind of forest spirit?” Nestor asked. “What does he teach you?”
Javier sprang up into his saddle. “He’s a Bahiim, a Haldiim holy man. He’s been training me since I converted.”
Nestor gaped at Javier. “You converted?”
“I knew something was going on,” Elezar grumbled. “You never used to hang around in trees day and night.”
Kiram silently mounted his own horse.
“So, it was Bahiim magic that saved Elezar just now, wasn’t it?” Nestor asked.
Javier nodded and whatever gripe Elezar might have voiced against Javier’s conversion went unspoken.
“Can you do that?” Nestor asked Javier. “I mean, turn into birds or bring someone back to life?”
“No.” Javier shook his head. “Magic like that takes years of practice and requires a kind of self control that I haven’t mastered.”
“But Kiram’s been part of the Haldiim religion all his life. I bet he knows all kinds of magic.” Nestor looked excited and Kiram realized that Nestor was as delighted by Bahiim magic as he’d been with the idea of Mirogoths who could transform themselves into wolves.
“No such luck,” Kiram informed Nestor. “I know less about it than Javier does.”
A cold chill passed over them and suddenly the entire forest around them seemed darker. Elezar sat up straight in his saddle and Nestor gasped. Birds flew from the surrounding trees. Wild hares and squirrels fled as if racing to escape a fire.
“What was that?” Elezar demanded.
“The shadow curse. We don’t have time to talk. We have to find the Old Road. Now.” Javier urged Lunaluz ahead.
They followed Javier through the forest as he searched among stands of gnarled trees and around moss covered outcroppings of stone. Kiram had no idea what Javier was looking for and apparently Javier didn’t either. When Nestor asked, Javier simply told him that he’d know when he found it.
The shadows around them deepened and every twig that cracked beneath the horses’ hooves echoed through the eerie quiet of the seemingly empty forest. Kiram tried to ignore the sharp cramps cutting into his belly, but when Nestor groaned and gripped his gut, Kiram realized that he wasn’t the only one feeling the shadow curse’s presence. Even the horses seemed agitated and uncomfortable. Kiram murmured soothing words to his mount while Javier turned Lunaluz back and forth through the forest.
Then at the edge of a stream, Javier stopped his restless search. Two huge willows stood on either side of the mossy stream bank.
“Here.” Javier urged Lunaluz down into the shallow waters. “Come quickly and stay close to me.”
The huge willows bowed over the stream, their long branches dangling into the waters and obscuring the view ahead.
Javier whispered words that Kiram only half understood: the names of ancient deities and invocations of arcane guardians. An eerie cool wind whipped through the willow branches. They swayed and trembled like anxious fingers. Javier raised his arms and flexed his hands as if he were wrenching some invisible cord asunder. As Javier jerked his arms apart, a loud crack sounded and the ground trembled. All the horses except Lunaluz pranced nervously. Kiram soothed Verano as best he could.
“This path is mine to take. I will not be barred from it!” Javier shouted. His tone alone was enough to make Nestor startle. Elezar scanned the surrounding woods as if expecting an attack.
White flames gushed from Javier’s hands and leaped into the branches of the willow trees. But like the trees in the Circle of Red Oaks they did not burn but instead lit up like stained glass in sunlight. A second shudder passed through the ground beneath them and the waters flowing over the stream bed parted to reveal a path of white stones etched with Bahiim symbols.
Overhead the willow branches curled back like gleaming glass curtains, revealing a delicate white archway and the flat darkness within it. Kiram knew that there should be more of the streambed on the other side, not this deep blackness.
A dry, bitter breeze crept from the archway and Kiram shuddered as it brushed over his face. He remembered the smell of the poison Rafie had made and the feeling of his grandmother’s dead hand in his own. Beneath him, Verano shivered.
White flames spread over Javier’s body as he lowered his arms and took up his reins. Then he urged Lunaluz ahead and they plunged into the darkness of the archway.
Without a word, Kiram, Elezar and Nestor followed him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Darkness pervaded. If a sky hung above him or ground stretched beneath him, Kiram could not see it. He felt Verano moving under him, but he couldn’t hear the horse’s hooves strike ground. Javier and Lunaluz blazed ahead of him and he chased that only source of light. Beside him
Elezar and Nestor were dim figures, illuminated only by the white blaze Javier cast across them.
They rode ceaselessly but their surroundings never seemed to change. Kiram felt his legs going numb, but he didn’t dare to slow for fear of losing sight of Javier. The ache of hunger ground at his belly and then dulled. Kiram clung to his reins, unsure how many hours had passed or even if they had stretched into days. His eyes burned and strange images flickered at the corners of his vision.
“Elezar,” Nestor called suddenly. He was smiling into the darkness. “Look, it’s Lady-dog! I think she’s hurt. Here, girl!”
“Lady-dog is dead, Nestor.” Elezar’s gaze didn’t leave Javier. “This place is full of devils. Don’t be tricked.”
But when Kiram glanced after a movement to his left, he could swear he saw his grandmother beckoning to him through the darkness. His heart ached at the thought of her all alone in this desolate place. He couldn’t just leave her.
Suddenly a strong hand caught his reins and jerked Kiram back into the faint light. Kiram looked up to see Elezar leaning from his own mount.
“Don’t look at them, damn it!” Elezar snarled.
Kiram’s heart raced at the thought of what he’d nearly done. If he’d lost Javier’s light he would never have found his way out of this place.
Elezar straightened and snapped his attention back onto Javier. Nestor rode close beside Elezar, looking frantic.
“Where are we?” Nestor asked.
“I think this is the Sorrowland,” Elezar said.
Nestor looked suddenly very frightened and lifted one hand as if shielding himself from the view of the surrounding blackness.
“What’s the Sorrowland?” Kiram asked.
Elezar glanced only briefly to Kiram. “The dead must cross the Sorrowland to reach heaven. It’s filled with the regrets and losses of a lifetime. If they lure you into the darkness, your soul is lost for eternity.”
Kiram frowned at the answer. He only half believed in much of his own religion, and he certainly didn’t hold with any Cadeleonian beliefs. Still, Kiram couldn’t deny that Elezar seemed to be right.