Cutlass (31 page)

Alex moved back slightly, exposing the last person to Barren fully. She sat on Em’s right. The first thing he noticed about her was her hair—it was a lively, fiery red. Then he noticed her green eyes—they seemed to brighten each time she blinked. Her head snapped toward him, and when she noticed Barren, her smile faded. There was something about her that was unlike the other Elves he knew—it was in her gaze. It was almost supernatural and infinite.

When the Elf with red hair ceased talking, the others looked his way. He suddenly felt panicked. They rose from where they sat, and Barren took that as a sign that he should move toward them. He took the steps from the corridor into the courtyard and approached, though he couldn’t help feeling he wasn’t particularly welcome, judging by the way the red-haired Elf glared at him.

“Barren! Good to see you awake,” Alex was the first to speak. The old man moved toward him to clap him on the back. Barren couldn’t help feeling guilty—Alex and Mary were the closest things to parents he’d had since his father died. He imagined it wasn’t easy for Alex to see him hurt.

“I’m glad I don’t hafta give Mary any grim news.”

Barren laughed a little. “Me too. She’d never let you out of the house again.”

Alex laughed, too, then he gestured to the old man beside Em. “Barren, I’d like you to meet Devon Kennings.”

Before Barren could acknowledge him, the red-haired Elf tore away from the group and hurried out of the courtyard. Em looked apologetic. “Excuse me,” she said as she hurried after the Elf. Barren watched them retreat, wondering why his presence caused her to react in such a manner.

“Barren Reed,” he heard his name slip from an unfamiliar mouth, and his gaze turned to storm-like eyes. Devon Kennings looked tired. Close up, it was easy to tell that his life had been a hard one—from a long scar on the side of his face, to the lines around his eyes and mouth. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

Again? Barren wasn’t sure he’d ever met this man.

“I don’t remember you,” was all Barren could say.

Devon didn’t seem surprised by that. “You wouldn’t remember me. I was not around much. Let’s walk,” he said, raising his head a little. He eyed the sky as if he mistrusted it.

Barren hesitated for a moment, looking back at Leaf and Cove. They were watching him with curiosity from the shelter of the corridor. Barren couldn’t figure out why he felt so awkward around Devon. He had no reason to fear what this man had to say, not if he wanted to figure out if his father was innocent, and not if he wanted to figure out where the bloodstone was.

The two passed before the Elfin palace, and Barren could gauge the size of the kingdom a little better. The main part of the palace was at least six stories—the highest bearing a balcony that Barren imagined overlooked the forest straight to the sea. The rest was a collection of various towers, bridged together by hallways with large open windows. Parts of the structure seemed to grow out of the surrounding forest—vines consumed whole towers, and moss covered the rooftops.

Barren and Devon set out upon one of the many paths twisting into the forest. Trees quickly consumed them. Here the leaves were turning golden-green as autumn descended upon the Orient. Barren watched the sunlight stream in through the canopy in thick rays. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear a river bubbling. It was peaceful out here and beautiful, though Barren knew there was more to this wild wood than meets the eye. It was full of danger—not just because of the Elves who occupied it, but because the plants were just as deceiving. Some were poisonous and some were hallucinogens. It was likely that unwelcome guests wouldn’t make it to the palace walls if they challenged the forest.

Barren swallowed hard at that thought and turned to face Devon. The old man had been starting at him, waiting for questions.

“Do you know who took you from your home in Conn?” Barren asked.

“Tetherion’s soldiers,” said Devon.

“That’s impossible. Tetherion knew we were going to Conn to meet you.”

“One thing I am most certain about was who took me from my home,” and the tone of Devon’s voice told Barren not to second-guess the pirate, at least not to his face. But Barren couldn’t bring himself to believe that Tetherion had been responsible for Devon’s arrest. It didn’t make any sense.

“Well what did they do with you in Estrellas then?”

“Interrogated me,” Devon said, then he sniffed. “Tortured me. Lot of good it did, though. I don’t remember anythin’ about the bloodstone, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell them. I don’t trust Tetherion as far as I can throw him.”

Several things bothered Barren about what the old man just said. “What do you mean you don’t remember anything about the bloodstone?”

The pirate shrugged, as if it were nothing. “I don’t remember. Everything before your father’s death is just a blur. It’s all hazy. As if I was in a fog the first part of my life.”

Well, that sounded all too familiar to Barren.

“You don’t remember,” Barren said quietly.

Devon’s eyes narrowed upon him. “Is that what you want, too? The stone?”

Barren focused on Devon for a moment. “You must remember something. There’s fear in your words.”

“You’re too young to say something like that.”

“I’ve had a lot of experience with those who fear.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Barren realized he had to gain this man’s trust if he was going to get anywhere with him, and that surprised him. If Devon Kennings had been a member of Jess Reed’s crew, why would he mistrust his son?

“What do you want with the bloodstone?” Devon asked.

“I was asked to find it before my brother does.”

“Asked by Tetherion?” Devon prodded. Barren noted his disregard for Tetherion’s title, his hateful tone—the king must be Devon’s hang-up.

“Yes. He asked me to find it and return it to him. He said he would keep it safe.”

“Safe,” Devon spat. “Let me tell you, boy, that stone is far better off stuck in whatever hole it was placed. It’s not the stone you gotta worry about keeping safe, it’s the Orient.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Do not believe for a second that Tetherion wouldn’t use that stone to keep himself invincible from threats. I don’t need memories to know what dark magic can do. No matter the virtues of Tetherion—of which I am sure there are none—dark magic would corrupt him so fast he’d never know what hit him.”

“Why are you so sure Tetherion has no virtue?”

“No man who would send an assassin to kill his brother is a good man.”

Barren only heard that Cathmor had sent assassins, not that Tetherion was involved, too.

“I protected Jess,” said Devon. “I protected him from Tetherion and Cathmor’s threats. I don’t care how often he interfered with their plans. There is no honor in that. It shows that Tetherion would do anything for power.”

“So what is your suggestion? Leave it alone?” Barren asked, becoming more and more irritated. “Because my brother is after this stone, and if he does not die getting there, he will be the invincible one, and if you think Tetherion has no honor, my brother actually succeeded in killing my father.”

“I know that well,” Devon said. “I would not suggest leaving such a thing in existence. I would say destroy it.”

“But it cannot be destroyed,” Barren said desperately. “It is dark magic!”

“Anything made can be unmade,” said Devon. “You just have to know how to do it.”

Barren’s shoulders fell, and he felt defeated and tired. After all he’d gone through just to get to this man, he found that he was bitter and rather useless. He’d only succeeded in making him question Tetherion’s motives—which made his head swim with more than dizziness.

“If you promise me that stone will be destroyed, I’ll help you,” Devon’s voice was low, but it was sincere, and Barren could finally sense a little bit of sympathy.

“So you do remember?”

“Not exactly,” the pirate shook his head. “But after the haze, there is a memory I possess—the strongest one I have of your father.” Devon extended his arm. On his forearm, lines of black marked his skin.

It was a drawing, and from Barren’s point-of-view, it looked like a tree, engulfing another tree. The bigger one branched into a ‘V’, and its limbs curled. Nestled at its center, the smaller tree was abstract—a line with curved limbs, and at random, three black dots that mimicked berries. “Your father marked me with this. He called it a map, but I know you won’t likely read it easily. I believe it to be a map to Sysara and the other Lyrics. If you can figure out how to read it, I think you’ll find the bloodstone.”

“But you are not sure?”

“No, but it seems you have few options.”

“You remember nothing before my father’s death,” Barren said, “and neither do I. What happened to our memories?”

“I am afraid your father is responsible for that,” a voice came from behind them. Barren and Devon whirled around to face Em. She was pale. The blush of pink that had been upon her cheeks was gone, and there was a sadness to her eyes that carried an overwhelming amount of guilt and grief—very different from her stone-like composure in Estrellas.

“Your memories were taken from you—anything that involved the Lyrics, anything that involved the bloodstone. I was responsible for seeing it through. I gave a draught to Devon, Christopher Lee and to myself. Your father could not destroy the bloodstone, so he thought he would, instead, erase the memory of it. The only problem is that the fix was temporary, and the memories are coming back.”

Barren took a moment to register what she’d said, realizing now why she’d shown such pity for him when he’d told her he wanted answers—because she was responsible for the absence of his memories—of everyone’s memories.

“You gave it to Christopher Lee? Do you remember why?”

“In his younger years, he was a member of Jess’s crew…his involvement with the bloodstone, though, I am unsure of.”

That didn’t sound right—hadn’t Larkin said Christopher Lee fought Jess during the Ore Wars? As admiral of a ship?

“Right, you took the poison.” Barren paused, running his fingers through his hair. All this loyalty to his father—it seemed suicidal.

“I am sorry Barren,” Em said quietly.

“I know,” he replied without looking at either of them. He was piecing information together. Jess gave Devon a map after his memory was already gone. There was a purpose for that, even if Barren didn’t understand it at the moment. But what role had Christopher Lee played, and did he even remember it himself?

“Barren, though it may be hard for you to believe, nothing your father did was ever in vain.”

At the moment, that
was
very hard to believe. 

Larkin opened her eyes. There were bars all around her, and an ugly yellow light flooded her body. She sat up slightly. Though there was a bench across from her, she woke up on the floor. Strange that all the time she’d been with Barren, she hadn’t spent a single minute in the brig. Thunder boomed outside, and she could feel the floor sway as the Orient’s anger became more and more apparent.

Her head throbbed with pain and tears immediately spilled down her face. When her father had found her in the cells of Estrellas, she’d been conflicted. After she’d killed Cas, she wanted to feel safe, but knowing that Barren was near made her afraid for his life—and she’d been right to fear. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to push the memories of his torture from her head. Why hadn’t they just arrested him? Didn’t it make more sense to take him into their custody? To return him to Maris? But they didn’t. They’d beat him within an inch of his life and left him for dead, just like all those prisoners in Estrellas. She hoped he was alive. She hoped Leaf had found him and healed him.

Footsteps sounded somewhere in the darkness, and she lay down again, stifling her tears. She tired to remain still and act as if she were asleep. Her heart raced, not wanting to face whoever was coming. The thud of boots crossed the floor toward her, and she heard the groan of her cell door as it opened and closed. Then there was nothing. The silence strained, and Larkin could feel the tension grow thick from the other body occupying her space.

“I know you are awake.”

William’s voice was different. He had always been awkward and distant, but now he sounded tired and his voice was dead. Larkin opened her eyes and looked up at him. He stood at her head, studying her face. When he saw she had acknowledged him, he headed for the bench. Larkin moved away from him quickly, putting as much distance between them as possible. She shivered under his stare, and suddenly her pain was replaced by fear.

“Where are we?”

“We are on a ship heading for Cape Oceaniana,” replied William. “It is your father’s hope that Barren will follow us there.”

“He is alive?” The amount of hope in her voice made William’s brows knit together and fury ignite his eyes.

“That is what the twins tell me.”

“The twins?” Larkin gazed at William in disbelief, trying to find any indication that he was lying.

“What? You mean you didn’t know? Oh, they have provided some very beneficial information. Through them, we’ve been able to track Barren for quite some time, and it proved even more valuable after the king attempted to outsmart my attempts to locate the bloodstone.”