by Narro, B. T.
*****
They walked for days with Cleve giving them no hint of his thoughts. He led without a word, chopping away anything in his path, giving a glance to his compass whenever the trail disappeared and wiping his brow with his dirty sleeve once his sweat began to drip. Even when he ate, his emotionless eyes barely looked at them. It was as if he was completely spent, and no amount of food or rest seemed to matter.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Basen asked him.
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“The compass and the path.”
Alabell spoke up, “We might be able to help you if you’d share what you know with us.”
“You can’t help.”
He probably has no idea where he’s going whenever the trail ends, Basen thought, and he’s just hoping to find it again. But he thinks it’s better, as the leader, to pretend he knows more than he does.
“Cleve, we should know what you know in case some of us need to find the village without you,” Basen said. “What if we get separated?”
Cleve stopped. “Try to find this trail again, then follow it until it ends. Wait there for everyone.”
“Fine.” At least it was something.
Basen had gotten used to the bottle-shaped plants that seemed to have a consciousness, but that didn’t mean he felt comfortable in this jungle.
Annah stopped them when she sensed a pack of animals hunting just ahead.
“I’ll startle them when they’re close,” she said.
The weeds began to rustle. Cleve and Basen assumed their positions at the front, Basen choosing his sword over the wand. Spiders as black as a starless sky emerged. A horde of them, each as big as one of Cleve’s fists. They hissed like snakes. Basen swung down his sword in front of them, terrified yet forcing himself to hold his ground if they did attack. Fortunately, with him and Cleve threatening them, along with Annah’s psyche, they scattered like a dust cloud exploding.
There was no more laughing or smiling after that terrifying sight.
Basen wished there was more he could do to assist Cleve in getting them to the village, but the stone-faced warrior remained silent except when asked a direct question. At least they were well fed and had plenty to drink. Whenever they needed more water, Annah would lure an animal to them, convince it that it was thirsty, then follow it to the nearest river or pond. Not every animal knew the jungle well, but Annah could tell which creatures were searching and which were headed confidently in the right direction. Basen couldn’t imagine this trip without her.
There was nowhere to make a portal in the jungle, and there had been nowhere he could make one before he’d entered Kilmar’s desert.
When we finally find the Elven village, there had better be a place where enough bastial energy had gathered. It was a long walk out of Merejic, and an even longer walk back to Kyrro. Too much could’ve happened since they’d left—the Academy could’ve been taken.
If so, we’ll take it back.
He kept telling himself this. It was the only way to keep from suggesting they turn back now, not that Cleve would listen anyway.
Basen wondered where Sanya had gone. Did she want the Academy to fall or did she side with them in this war? Basen didn’t think he could ever forgive her for what she’d done, even if she helped them in this war, but he still wished they had her assistance. There was no way she’d come all the way to Merejic just to kill him for making more portals, would she? No, she’d told him to wait a week, and it had been more than that. There were worse issues than Sanya.
The trail they’d been following for days came to an end at a hillside too steep to walk up.
“Reela and I soon got lost after this,” Cleve admitted. “But I remember which way we went. We’re not going that way this time.” He turned to face them, looking into their eyes in a rare moment of vulnerability. “That means we’re climbing.”
Alabell began to say something, but no words came out. Everyone stared at her, waiting for her to speak. She looked up at the hillside fearfully.
“Why don’t we walk around until we can find an easier way up?” Basen asked.
“Because that’s what Reela and I tried to do last time. It’s too easy to get lost with no path to follow.”
“So we’ll just follow the hill until it slopes down enough.”
“We won’t be able to. There’s too much in the way miles later. Trust me.”
“It’s all right, Basen,” Alabell said. “I can climb this.”
She grabbed the grass growing out of the wall of dirt and positioned herself to climb. Basen was surprised at her new confidence, but then she showed him a nervous look over her shoulder.
“Maybe you should go first,” she said. “If I fall, I don’t want to come down onto you and take you with me.”
He put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “You won’t fall.”
They gazed at the climb ahead of them, and she frowned once again. It was only about twice as high as the Academy’s walls. Grass and rock made up all of it except for the top, which was all rock. It looked pocked enough for them to find footholds, though.
“Perhaps I should go first,” Basen said. Realistically, there was a chance any of them could fall, but he and Cleve seemed to be the more skilled climbers of the group. Annah and Alabell agreed and waited.
He and Cleve moved quickly and soon got near the top. Basen glanced down to find Alabell and Annah about even with each other, midway up. They were moving quickly as well, as if afraid to slow down.
Getting up the last bit of rock was actually easier than Basen had anticipated. There were obvious footholds that he used to climb quickly. Cleve seemed to be stuck to Basen’s side, however, looking around for a good route up and finding none.
Basen got his hands on the apex. “Come over beneath me,” he advised. “Lots to hold onto.”
Cleve grunted his assent. Basen started to pull himself up—but the sight of two Krepps made him freeze. They seemed focused on their conversation. He made a quick decision to keep going and got his feet up. It was just in time for him to draw his sword before one Krepp noticed him and gritted his teeth.
“Back!” Basen yelled and swung to keep them at bay.
One Krepp was around his size, except for his gargantuan chest and shoulders. The other was larger than Cleve and with deep lines across his bare chest, forged by bulging muscle. This was the one that drew his sword first.
“What is it?” Cleve asked from below.
“Two Krepps.” Basen couldn’t move forward without engaging them in combat, giving Cleve no room to come up.
The smaller one said something to the bigger one in Kreppen, and the bigger one didn’t seem to like it, spitting on the ground between them while keeping his sword pointed at Basen’s chest.
Basen readied for them to charge. He would try to throw them over the edge, as it was his only chance.
They didn’t advance as they continued their conversation, the smaller one now spitting on the ground as well as their voices rose in what seemed to be anger directed at each other.
Cleve’s hands touched against Basen’s heels. “Move if you can.”
Basen took a step forward, and the larger Krepp bared his sharp teeth.
“Stay there, human,” the smaller Krepp said in perfect common tongue. There wasn’t even a trace of an accent, though his voice was as rough and low as a large man who’s just awoken. “Who are you?”
Basen was too stunned to speak for a moment. “My name is Basen.”
“Zoke, is that you?” Cleve called. Basen chanced a look behind him to see Cleve had gotten his head up above the apex.
“Yes,” the smaller Krepp said. “Who are you?”
“Basen, put down your weapon,” Cleve said, then pulled himself up.
“I will once he lowers his.”
Basen pointed his sword at the large Krepp. He didn’t care if Cleve seemed to know one of these Krepps. He didn’t trust either
of them.
“You first,” the large Krepp said in common tongue, though this one had a thick accent.
Cleve didn’t seem nearly as worried as Basen, turning his back on the Krepps to help the two women up one at a time. Basen slowly slid his sword back into its sheath, watching the Krepps for any sign of aggression. But the large Krepp put his sword away as soon as Basen did.
“Why here, humans?” the large Krepp asked. He grunted the words out one at a time, pushing them up from his stomach.
Cleve ignored the annoyed Krepp, walking right by him to offer his hand to Zoke for a shake. Basen thought he caught an actual smile on Cleve’s face. The Krepp didn’t smile back.
“It’s me, Cleve Polken.”
Zoke was not only small for a Krepp, but he looked younger than the one standing behind him and younger than the five Krepps Basen had faced in the small forest. Will these Krepps attack us if they find out we killed two of their kind?
“Yes, Cleve. I remember you well now, strong warrior.” Zoke seemed comfortable as he shook Cleve’s hand, but the other Krepp licked his teeth as he stared at them. Basen didn’t know exactly what it meant, but something told him it wasn’t a friendly gesture.
“Where is the village?” Cleve asked.
“Close.” Zoke gave no indication to its direction. Perhaps he wasn’t as excited to see Cleve as Basen had first thought.
“These are trusted friends,” Cleve said quickly.
So that was it. Zoke only trusted humans he’d met before.
“What about Vithos?” Cleve asked.
“He came with the Elves and helped translate during the first—” Zoke paused to think. “I’m not sure of the right word. Perhaps ‘encounter.’ ”
“Was there fighting?” Cleve asked.
“Some.” Zoke looked to the other Krepp, whose expression had not softened at all. In fact, the mentioning of fighting made his yellow eyes spark with resentment.
Alabell approached. Basen stayed at her side with his hand ready to grab his sword if needed. “Are Elves and Krepps still there?” she asked timidly.
“Yes, but some from each side have died,” Zoke said. “Now we are at peace.”
The other Krepp muttered something in his language. Zoke puffed out his chest and gave him a look of warning. The Krepp’s long mouth twisted as he glanced the other way, looking as if he wasn’t about to bite or spit. It was amusing to see the smaller Krepp silence the older and bigger one so easily, but Basen refrained from grinning. He knew enough about Krepps to understand that doing so could start a fight. They were the easiest creatures to insult in all of Ovira.
“We are at peace,” Zoke repeated, punctuating the last word by making a fist.
“It sounds like you’ve encountered a lot of trouble keeping that peace,” Alabell said.
“Would’ve been easy, but Krepps are too proud and Elves are too stubborn.” Zoke’s gaze never left Cleve, as if he cared little about the rest of them. “Did you come here to see Vithos? He wants to return to you and Reela, but there is too much for him to do in the village.”
“Not just to see Vithos,” Cleve said, and his face took on the bleak look Basen was used to. “War has begun again.”
This surprised both Krepps, their brows crinkling as if raising invisible eyebrows. “Who fights?” Zoke asked.
“Lead us to the village and I’ll explain on the way.”
“Follow me.”
Cleve and the two Krepps took the front while Cleve explained Tauwin’s rise to power, starting with the murder of King Kerr.
“This is his great-niece, Alabell Kerr,” Basen interrupted and gestured at her. He didn’t want to miss what seemed like the only opportunity to introduce themselves before they reached the village, where there would be many more Krepps like the older one here who looked as if he wanted them gone or dead and didn’t care which one. “I’m Basen, and this is Annah.” He suddenly worried they would wonder what his last name was. Even Krepps knew of Tegry Hiller and what he’d done, and they approved even less than humans did.
“What great-niece means?” the older Krepp asked Zoke.
“Anpolk.”
The older Krepp grunted with a faint nod.
“Tauwin killed the last of my family,” Alabell said. The only time Basen ever heard anger in her tone was when she spoke of Tauwin. “And he’s killed many more since then in his attempt to take over Kyrro.”
“Why does he want Kyrro?” Zoke asked.
“He’s a Takary,” Basen explained. “They think Kyrro belongs to them.”
“I don’t understand,” the older Krepp said.
Zoke gave him a knowing look. “Human greed.”
This time the older Krepp let out a long grunt, and there seemed to be an understanding between the two of them, as if “human greed” was not just an answer to Tauwin’s behavior but to the entire reason behind the war.
Cleve then described what had happened with the rest of the war so far. Basen waited for him to bring up Sanya, but he finished without mentioning her name once. It made Basen realize that she actually had little to do with the war. It seemed strange, because his whole life was wrapped up in this war now, yet it was Sanya who drew the brunt of his worry and anger, not Tauwin. He supposed it was different for Alabell. But what about Cleve? He’d trained Sanya before she’d turned on them. She’d killed one of his closest friends. He must still be bothered by her betrayal even though he didn’t show it.
Basen waited for his chance to be discreet, then asked Cleve, “Is Tauwin a worse enemy to you than Sanya?”
He pondered it for a moment and said, “Both deserve to die for their crimes.”
When that seemed to be the only answer Cleve would give, Basen prodded, “What if you could only kill one of them? Suppose you could snap your fingers and one would keel over. Dead.” Basen snapped. “Who would you choose?”
“Tauwin,” he answered without even a moment of thought.
“But Sanya—”
“I know what she did.” Cleve took in a slow breath as his face contorted. “But her existence doesn’t continue to threaten the people I care about.”
Basen couldn’t help but frown. There was always a chance that Sanya was still a direct threat to him. He figured Cleve didn’t mean to reveal how little he felt for Basen, but that didn’t make it sting any less.
Cleve looked shocked for a moment, possibly realizing what he’d said. “Forgive me, I’m tired. I didn’t mean to imply—”
But Cleve stopped, looking as if he hoped Basen would interrupt.
“Go on,” Basen said, amused at seeing Cleve uncomfortable.
“I do…care…I mean, we are friends. I want Sanya dead, but I don’t think she’s as much of a threat to you or anyone else as Tauwin is.”
Basen sighed. Was he the only one who felt that Sanya hadn’t yet demonstrated what she was capable of? He supposed now wasn’t the time to convince anyone how dangerous she was. The village lay just ahead. He had other problems to worry about, especially with the way Zoke’s fellow Krepp was staring at him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Zoke explained that the Krepps had been in the abandoned Elven village for just a few months before the Elves showed up from Greenedge. With half of the Elves being powerful psychics, and the other half wielding bows and swords, the Krepps had little chance of defeating them in battle even though their numbers were far greater, and remained so.
“Since then, some Elves have been killed by resentful Krepps,” Zoke explained. “Always during arguments. The Krepp is then killed for his actions. Knowing this, the Krepp often tries to run and hurts many who try to stop him. Now we all must act quickly when we see arguments.” He glared at the older and larger Krepp. “The Elves could remove us from this village if they choose to, and we would lose the battle if there was one.”
They’d stopped at the entrance to the village. A wooden fence strong and tall enough to stop any animals from getting inside wrapped around hu
ndreds of houses formed intricately out of clay and some out of brick. None looked identical, though there seemed to be a theme of white walls and red roofs. This area of the forest had been cleared. Lush grass filled the space between homes, which were often surrounded by bushes replete with ripe berries. The few trees left seemed to mark different fields—some containing crops, others acting as homes to grazing cattle and sheep.
Krepps and Elves alike seemed involved in tasks of building, harvesting, and tending to the animals. They worked together in harmony, to Basen’s surprise. This answered his curiosity as to why the Elves let the Krepps stay. They looked to be strong workers, determined to prove their worth as they labored tirelessly at whatever task was assigned to them.
“Rickik,” Zoke said to the other Krepp, “go get Vithos.”
Rickik replied in Kreppen, but Zoke shook his head to interrupt him.
“Common tongue only. You must practice.”
But Rickik didn’t speak again. He glared for a moment and then walked into the village.
“He’s friendly,” Basen quipped when he was certain the Krepp was too far to hear him.
“He was the leader when I first came here,” Zoke said, watching Rickik walk deeper into the village. “Everything was different then. None of these structures looked anything like they do now. Their walls were burned and crumbling. The water spigots didn’t work, and no one knew why. There were no farms, so Krepps had to hunt and forage for every meal. When the Elves came, everything became worse at first. There was much arguing and fighting. Only Vithos and I knew enough Kreppen and common tongue to translate, and it wasn’t enough to settle all between Krepps and Elves. Eventually, many of the Krepps left or were forced out because they couldn’t control their behavior. Most of them wanted all Krepps to band together and kill the Elves. But it was a battle we would lose, and many of us, like myself, didn’t wish to fight them.
“The Elves helped us construct the buildings you see now. They fixed the water spigots. They made fields for farming. They forced every Krepp to start learning common tongue, while the Elves who didn’t know it began learning as well. It was the better alternative to teaching us Elvish, which we didn’t want to learn and they didn’t want to teach. Krepps demanded the Elves not use psyche on them unless to stop a Krepp from injuring someone, and the Elves have promised to keep our minds free from manipulation.”