The Great Pursuit

by Wendy Higgins

  “That town,” Paxton said. “They knew what you are?”

  She shook her head. “I was young myself at that time, only fifteen, and already a seasoned midwife. I knew Prince Vito, so I knew things were going to change in Kalor, but the towns still held many bigots. Lashed were only working openly in select groups. That was ten years ago. Things are different now.”

  A low animalistic rumbling sounded from behind them, and several of the men spoke loudly. One man howled, apparently bitten or scratched.

  Rozaria gave a roll of her eyes and yelled over her shoulder, “Subdue it, you fools. Don’t bait them with your shouts.”

  After a few moments it quieted down. Only three of Rozaria’s beasts were ready for the journey. It had taken quite a lot of hands to calm them and force them into a deep enough slumber to transfer them to the cart-pulled steel cages. He’d double-checked the locks himself.

  In that moment, Rozaria’s horse reared with a great whinny, and she tightly grabbed hold of its mane. Paxton looked ahead and saw a giant snake with a diagonal design that had slithered into their path. It was as thick as Paxton’s upper arm. The creature rose up with a vicious hiss at the horse. Beside it, Nicola gave a scream and her horse ran, nearly throwing her off.

  Without thought, Paxton let loose an arrow and pierced the snake through the spot beneath its head. Rozaria soothed her horse and stared down at the serpent as it jerked its way back to the side of the road before going still.

  “You are good to have around, hunter.”

  She gave him a beaming smile of laughter, and in that moment she was just a woman. A beautiful woman who, in one vulnerable moment, had needed saving. And it was almost possible to forget she was a ruthless murderer. In that fleeting moment, Paxton had half a mind to try to reason with the woman about her methods. But then he remembered who she really was.

  He nearly laughed at himself. He could not afford a single speck of weakness toward Rozaria Rocato.

  As they trotted past his kill, a man from their caravan behind them jumped down and nudged the snake, then picked it up and threw it over his shoulders with a smile.

  “Dinner,” Rozaria remarked, still with lighthearted laughter in her voice.

  This time, when Nicola made her way back to the path and turned to stare at Paxton, she lifted her chin so he could see her dark eyes within the hood.

  Two days of traveling through the thick terrain of foliage made Paxton long for home worse than ever. As soon as he learned a bit more about Rozaria and Prince Vito’s plan, he would abandon the Lashed ranks and race to his homeland with the information as fast as possible.

  He thought of Aerity during every quiet moment. Nobody in all Eurona could have made him experience the gamut of emotions he’d had when she showed up at camp in that ridiculous disguise. It’s a marvel Rozaria hadn’t recognized her—those hazel eyes were a dead giveaway for him. The rest had only confused him for a moment before the farce became clear.

  But to have done all that for him. For him. Deep seas, she could have been killed. And she must have known the risks. But still she came charging into Kalor to seek him. But why? To bring him home? To merely say hello? Was she married now? Or would she be soon? These were all things he’d had no time to ask.

  In the course of that night she’d broken his heart when she’d believed him capable of evil, and then she’d revived him again and filled him with fuel to continue on.

  He was in the midst of these musings when a high-pitched yipping sounded from above. Within seconds it grew and seemed to move. He peered up into the canopy of stretching, leaning trees. Rozaria was also staring up, smiling with mischief.

  “The first line of defense,” she said. “We’re nearly to the fortress. It is entirely surrounded with tree ranks.” Ranks of soldiers in the trees? Did she mean those yipping sounds were people?

  As they moved closer, he could make out a series of rope ladders and planks. His eyes roamed; they were everywhere! A complete series of treetop transportation. Men ran lithely through the canopy with their bows, arrows pointed. The soldier-like tribesmen were painted in greens and blacks, making them hard to see until they moved.

  Rozaria cupped her hands over her mouth and sent up a high-pitched call to the trees, making the same yipping-chirping sound. The men up high gave a cheer.

  Unease rolled through Paxton. It was one thing to fool a single woman. To fool an entire tribe and royal family was bound to be a bit more difficult. Especially if he was expected to perform further acts of atrocity.

  Paxton took a silent, deep breath, and followed Rozaria through the maze of jungle to the fortress entrance. Around the grounds were wooden stakes with pointed tips, a barrier wall of them. The wooden gates swung wide and music poured out. Inside was a veritable festival.

  The first thing he noticed was two people in multicolored outfits with oversize hats walking on wooden stilts above the crowd. Everywhere were bright colors, festive flags and banners strewn across the streets between rooftops, masks of wild animals worn by adults and children alike, scents of grilling food from street vendors. His stomach gave a deep growl.

  Rozaria turned to him with a look of pride. “Welcome to the royal fortress of Kalor, hunter.”

  “I’m surprised they allowed me in without question,” he said.

  Rozaria grinned. “It is because you are with me. Nobody enters or leaves the fortress without permission.”

  He nodded, tucking that information into his mind, feeling a noose of entrapment tighten around his neck. Escape from here would be nearly impossible. His facade of loyalty would have to be stronger than ever. He inclined his head to a tiger walking on his hind legs for its master. “Is it always like this?”

  She watched the spectacle fondly. “Only when we are celebrating.”

  She said nothing more, and in truth he was afraid to ask what was being celebrated. They moved at a slow pace through the crowded streets. Paxton sighted their destination ahead: a tiered building faced with smooth terra-cotta. Each level was smaller, topped with a dome on the fourth level.

  When they neared the entrance, they slid from their horses and gave them over to eager stable boys. Paxton and their entire party followed Rozaria up the grand palace steps, where ornately dressed guards pulled open heavy doors for them. Straight ahead, down the wide hall, Paxton could see into their great room, where a man sat upon a golden throne at the top of a set of regal steps.

  From afar, Paxton could make out no details except the long black hair, red robes, and scantily clad women flanking him. Before they could move any closer to that room, a woman dressed in bright green walked into their path, stopping.

  She eyed their group and said something in Kalorian, pointing to an adjoining room to the left. And then she motioned Rozaria forward to the great room. Rozaria looked at Paxton.

  “Go and eat with the others, hunter. I will find you tonight.” She disappeared into the great room, with Nicola a step behind, and its gold-trimmed doors shut tight behind them.

  Paxton followed the other men toward the smells of spiced rice and marinated, roasted meats with vegetables. They set upon the table of food like animals. The maids could not refill their platters and glasses fast enough. Even Paxton found himself immune to basic manners in that moment.

  Afterward they were ushered into guest quarters, which consisted of stalls of washbasins and a warm room lined with soft-looking pallets. As Paxton cleaned his hands and face he heard laughter and mumbles in Kalorian. The word Lochson stood out to him. He tensed a moment before continuing. They were speaking of the king. He wished he could understand.

  He listened intently as he made his way to a pallet, but it was no use. Only a few words here or there were recognizable. Paxton lay his head on the downy pillow and forgot to listen anymore as sleep swiftly took him.

  Chapter

  22

  Aerity and Harrison rode fast along the tree line that separated Kalor and Zorfina. Several times they’d passed tra
veling Zorfinans, who watched them with interest or suspicion, but nobody tried to stop them. Twice they’d run into a Zorfinan border patrol and had to explain their situation. Aerity was thankful for those moments to pass along the dire information to local authorities.

  Water was scarce on the Zorfinan side. On the rare occasion when they came across a dawdling stream, they drank until they might pop, then filled every container they had.

  They’d opted to ride through the night, much to Harrison’s dismay. The chill of the night air, along with sheer determination, had kept Aerity awake. And now in the late morning sun, lack of sleep was finally catching up to her. Several times she’d slumped forward as they rode, only to be awoken by the wiggling creature in the pack in her lap. And the princess couldn’t help but notice that the pack was much tighter and a bit heavier; the little beast had grown overnight. Now he poked his sleepy head out and licked across his enormous teeth with a long, pink tongue. His big, black eyes stared up at her.

  “I think he’s hungry,” Aerity called. She patted Jude’s wide neck. “And the horses are tired.”

  Harrison slowed his horse and they pulled to the side of the path among short, stout trees and brush. He eyed the creature warily as Aerity climbed down and tugged it from the pack. It immediately bounded into the bushes, sending birds scattering upward.

  “He needs a name,” Aerity commented. She scooped a handful of oats into a cloth bag and fed Jude.

  Harrison’s voice was gentle. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to name it, Aer. It seems harmless now, but it’s not a pet. We have no idea what to expect of it.”

  Aerity watched as it prowled low to the ground and then pounced on a bush. Some birds escaped, but the little beast grabbed one in its mouth midair and set to chomping it with ferocity, feathers flying. Aerity pulled a face.

  “I can’t help but think that if we raise it not to be a killer of humans . . .”

  “Some things are in an animal’s nature.”

  He put a hand to her shoulder and she nodded. For now, the furry monster was hers to care for. She understood Harrison’s need for caution, but she couldn’t worry about that right now. She let the horses rest as long as possible and then stood.

  Aerity made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Come along. You’ve had your breakfast.” She took a swig of water from her pouch as the creature came cantering up. “Can you pass him up to me once I’ve mounted? He’s getting a bit . . .”

  “Large?” Harrison lugged him up into his arms as Aerity took to Jude’s back. Then the creature licked Harrison’s cheek, and the man craned his head away. “Ugh. Don’t get used to the taste of me, furball.” Harrison looked down into its face. The beast lay comfortably on its back in Harrison’s arms, happy to be cradled. His tongue lolled to the side. “By the seas, you are rather cute in an ugly sort of way, aren’t you?” Harrison sighed and passed him up to a giggling Aerity.

  They rode on for hours. In the afternoon, Harrison held out a hand and stopped, signaling Aerity to do the same. He seemed to be listening. In the distance, she could scarcely discern the sounds of a running horse.

  “Into the forest!” Harrison pointed to the Kalor side where they’d be better hidden. They rode until they were far enough in to still peer out.

  Minutes later a fine horse with two riders pulled up and halted abruptly where they’d left the path. Aerity squinted. The man seemed to be pointing at the ground, trailing his hand toward the forest where they’d fled, as if he were tracking them. Aerity’s heart gave a pound.

  “Wait a moment,” Harrison whispered. “Is that . . . ?” He stared hard a moment longer and then his face beamed. “Tiern Seabolt!”

  “What?” Aerity sat up straighter, and as she looked she surely recognized the straight brown hair, pulled back, and the Lochlan tunic. And he seemed to have a lad with him . . . with a hair covering?

  Harrison burst back through the forest with Aerity on his heels. They were greeted by Tiern’s arrow pointed straight at them. But the lad in front grabbed his arm and shouted, “That’s Lieutenant Gillfin! And Aer!”

  Aerity recognized the voice immediately, and it wasn’t a lad at all.

  “Vixie!”

  The sisters slid from their horses, Aerity less graceful with the creature in her arms, and they sprinted for each other. But when they got close, Vixie shrieked and jumped back, pointing.

  “What the seas is that?”

  “Oh! Don’t worry, it’s . . . Furball. He’s only a babe. We saved him. Or stole him. Both, really.”

  “But what is it?” Vixie’s face was scrunched in confusion and disgust. Rather than explain, Aerity set down the creature and hugged her sister senseless.

  “I have so much to tell you,” Aerity whispered into Vixie’s head covering. They clung for what seemed like forever. Then they pulled away, surveyed each other, and said simultaneously, “You’re filthy.”

  Aerity laughed, but Vixie’s face darkened quickly. Warning bells rang in the older sister’s ears.

  “What is it, Vix? Why are you here?”

  Vixie’s eyes watered. “It’s Mum and Papa. They’ve been kidnapped by Kalorians.”

  Aerity felt the ground tilt beneath her and a heady rush of blood. She grasped Vixie’s shoulder. Both Tiern and Harrison leaped down to join them.

  “Kidnapped?” Harrison went straight into military mode, his eyes alert. “Do we know for certain they’re still alive?”

  “Nay,” Tiern said. “We only know they were taken nearly a week ago.”

  Aerity was going to be sick. She pressed a hand over her stomach. “What of the rest of the family?”

  “Is Lady Wyneth well?” Harrison broke in.

  “We don’t know,” Vixie said weakly. “We left to find you before it happened. The Kalorians had just shown up. We weren’t there for any of it. We just heard of the kidnapping from two soldiers in Dovedell.”

  “Oh, seas.” Aerity’s eyes roamed the dirt at her feet, searching for understanding, seeking answers and wisdom. If only she had been there. She felt riddled with painful guilt for abandoning her family at such a time.

  “Why were you away from the castle?” Harrison asked.

  Vixie chewed her lip sheepishly. “I was coming to search for you all. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? Aer . . . you’ve got to act as ruler until they are found.”

  Her gut clenched further. Ruler. All eyes were on her as they processed that information. Her mind reeled. Lochlanach had been attacked by an outside force. The throne was empty. The kingdom vulnerable. And only one person could rightly rise up and fill it.

  Her.

  Determination rang out inside her, clearing away all doubts and fears before they had a chance to surface. She had no time for any of that. Aerity clicked her tongue and patted her thigh. “Come, Furball.” The creature obeyed and she scooped him up. “We have to go.”

  “But what about all the things you have to tell me?” Vixie asked. Aerity looked from her sister to Tiern, whose lips were pressed tightly as if holding back a slew of questions for her.

  “It will have to wait.” Aerity lifted Furball onto Jude’s back, then grasped the saddle and heaved herself up. “Home needs us. Now.”

  Chapter

  23

  Paxton awoke to soft fingers trailing across his stubbled cheeks. The room was dark, and all around him rose a symphony of snores. His eyes slowly adjusted to Rozaria leaning over him, her dark hair pulled to one side.

  “Come with me.” Paxton smelled wine on her whispered words.

  He let her take him by the hand and lead him out of the guest dormitory and down another torch-sconced hall with vivid rugs depicting tribal customs, nakedness, and war. It had to be the dead of night, but he could still hear revelries at a distance. As they walked, Rozaria stumbled into him a few times or leaned to the side and had to be righted by his hand. She giggled uncharacteristically, and he wondered how much wine she’d had.

  He guessed with a bou
t of nausea that she was leading him to her personal chambers. After being with Aerity again, it made this farce with Rozaria all the more difficult. Before, when he kissed Rozaria, he believed Aerity was no longer in his life. Now he realized she would always be. The thought of being touched by Rozaria—of touching her back—it felt wrong in a way he hadn’t allowed to stop him before. And yet he continued to let her lead him into her chamber.

  Rozaria’s room was spectacular. A four-poster bed of dark wood was draped in beaded silks of deep red. The rugs were plush and the pillows plump. Plants of various large species were along the walls in ornate terra-cotta pots. The windows were round and looked down at gardens three stories below.

  Rozaria turned to Paxton and pressed her body against his, draping her arms over his shoulders. His heart picked up speed. He eyed a bottle of wine with two glasses on a table by the bed. The perfect distraction.

  “More wine, I think.” He slipped from her grasp and poured them both a glass, filling hers higher than his own. He handed it to her and lifted it in a toast. She gave him a heavy-lidded, seductive grin and then drank. He touched her glass to encourage her to drink again.

  “You have news?” he asked.

  She set down her glass on the bedside table and sashayed to the window, leaning against it. Paxton tipped part of his wine into hers before she turned back around. She walked to where Paxton stood at the side of the bed. This time when she got to him she placed her hands on his chest and firmly pushed him back.

  Curses. His spine went rigid and he forced himself to relax before she noticed.

  Now he was on the bed and she was climbing atop him. Her mouth came down on his, soft and sour. She moaned and placed all her weight on him, seeming unable to keep herself up. Paxton flipped them so she was on her back and he was on his side looking down at her. He gave her pliant lips another kiss. Betrayal.

  “What did you learn, Rozaria?” He touched his nose to her cheek. Deception. It was the only way. He shoved his feelings of infidelity aside.