Poison Study (17 page)

  When I reached another path in the forest, I found a comfortable position on a tree branch within sight of the trail. I secured myself to the trunk of the tree with my rope. The magician had promised me one year, but I didn’t want to tempt her with an easy target. She could change her mind; after all, what did I know about magicians and their pledges?

  She claimed I had power. Magical power that I had always thought of as my survival instinct. When I had been in those dire situations, I had felt possessed. As if someone else more capable of dealing with the crisis took temporary control over my body, rescued me from death and then left.

  Could the strange buzzing sound that erupted from my throat and saved my life really be the same as Irys’s power? If so, I must keep my magic a secret. And I had to gain some control of the power to keep it from flaming out. But how? Avoid life-threatening situations. I scoffed at the notion of evading trouble. Trouble seemed to find me regardless of my efforts. Orphaned. Tortured. Poisoned. Cursed with magic. The list grew longer by the day.

  I didn’t have the time to resolve these complex issues that circled without end in my mind. Focusing my thoughts on the present, I studied the trail below. Small saplings threatened to retake the narrow forest path; it must have been one of the abandoned roadways used to trade with Sitia.

  I waited for Valek. He would demand an explanation about my encounter with the magician, and I was ready to give one.

  My only warning of Valek’s arrival was a gentle rustling of the branch above mine. I looked up to see him uncoiling from the upper branch like a snake. He dropped soundlessly beside me.

  Green camouflage seemed to be the outfit of choice today. Valek’s was skintight and came equipped with a hood to cover his hair and neck. Brown and green paint streaked his face, causing the bright blue of his eyes to stand out in stark contrast.

  I looked down at my own ragtag outfit. Some of the leaves had frayed at the edges, and my uniform had sustained many tears from climbing through the trees. Next time I planned to flee through the woods, I’d persuade Dilana to sew me an outfit like Valek’s.

  “You’re unbelievable,” Valek said.

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good. I assumed you would give the soldiers a good chase, and you did. But I never expected this.” Valek pointed at my leaf-covered shirt and swept his arms wide, indicating the trees. “And to top it all off, you encountered the magician and somehow managed to survive.” Sarcasm tinged Valek’s voice during his last comment.

  His way of asking for an explanation, I supposed.

  “I don’t know what exactly happened. I found myself tearing through the woods until I reached a clearing, where she was waiting. The only thing she told me was that I had ruined her plans by killing Reyad, and then pain slammed into my skull.” The memory of her attack was still fresh in my mind, so I allowed the full horror of it to show on my face. If Valek ever suspected what had really happened, I wouldn’t live the year the magician had granted me. And mentioning Reyad’s name supported one of Valek’s theories about why the magician was after me.

  I took a deep breath. “I started reciting poisons. I tried to push the pain away. Then the attack stopped, and she said you were getting too close. When I opened my eyes she had disappeared.”

  “Why didn’t you wait for me in the clearing?”

  “I didn’t know where she had gone. I felt safer in the trees, knowing you’d be able to find me.”

  Valek considered my explanation. I covered my nervousness by sorting through my backpack.

  After a long while, he grinned. “We certainly proved the Commander wrong. He thought you’d be caught by midmorning.”

  I smiled with relief. Taking advantage of his good mood, I asked, “Why does the Commander hate magicians so much?”

  The pleased expression dropped from Valek’s face. “He has many reasons. They were the King’s colleagues. Aberrations of nature, who used their power for purely selfish and greedy reasons. They amassed wealth and jewels, curing the sick only if the dying’s family could pay their exorbitant fee. The King’s magicians played mind games with everyone, taking delight in causing havoc. The Commander wants nothing to do with them.”

  Curious, I pushed on. “What about using them for his purposes?”

  “He thinks magicians are not to be trusted, but I’m of two minds about that,” Valek said. He gazed out over the forest floor as he talked. “I understand the Commander’s concern, killing all the King’s magicians was a good strategy, but I think the younger generation born with power could be recruited for our intelligence network. We disagree on this issue, and despite my arguments the Commander has-” Valek stopped. He seemed reluctant to continue.

  “Has what?”

  “Ordered that those born with even the slightest amount of magical power be killed immediately.”

  I had known about the execution of the southern spies and the magicians from the King’s era, but imagining babies being ripped from their mother’s arms made me gasp in horror. “Those poor children.”

  “It’s brutal, but not that brutal,” Valek said. A sadness had softened his eyes. “The ability to connect with the power source doesn’t occur until after puberty, which is around age sixteen. It usually takes another year for someone other than their family to notice and report them. Then, they either escape to Sitia, or I find them.”

  His words had the weight of a wooden beam pressing down on my shoulders. I found it difficult to breathe. Sixteen was when Brazell had recruited me. When my survival instinct had started to flare, defending against Brazell and Reyad’s torture. Had they been trying to test me for magic? But why didn’t they report me? Why hadn’t Valek come?

  I had no idea what Brazell wanted. And knowing now about my power only added yet another way I could die. If Valek discovered my magic, I was dead. If I didn’t find a way to go to Sitia, I was dead. If someone poisoned the Commander’s food, I was dead. If Brazell built his factory and sought revenge for his son, I was dead. Dead, dead, dead and dead. Death by Butterfly’s Dust was beginning to look attractive. It was the only scenario where I would get to choose when, where and how I died.

  I would have sunk into a deep, brooding bout of self-pity, but Valek grabbed my arm and put a finger to his green lips.

  The distant sounds of hoofbeats and men talking reached my ears. My first thought was that it was an illusion sent by the magician. But soon enough, I saw mules pulling wagons. The width of the wagons filled the entire path, saplings and bushes thwacked against the wheels. Two mules pulled one wagon, and one man dressed in a brown trader’s uniform led the team. There were six wagons and six men who conversed among themselves as they traveled.

  From my post in the tree, I could see that the first five wagons were loaded with burlap sacks that might have been filled with grain or flour. The last wagon held strange, oval-shaped yellow pods.

  Snake Forest was just bustling with activity today, I thought in wonder. All we needed was the fire dancers to jump from the trees to entertain us all.

  Valek and I sat still in our tree as the men passed below us. Their uniforms were soaked with sweat, and I noticed a few of them had rolled up their pants so they wouldn’t trip. One man’s belt was cinched tight, causing the extra material to bunch around his waist, while another’s stomach threatened to rip through his buttons. These poor traders obviously didn’t have a permanent residence. If they had, their seamstress would never have permitted them to walk around looking like that.

  When they were out of sight and hearing range, Valek whispered, “Don’t move, I’ll be back.” He dropped to the ground and followed the caravan.

  I fidgeted on my branch, wondering if the other two men Irys had said were tracking Valek would find me before he returned. The sun was disappearing in the west, and cooler air was replacing the day’s heat. Muscles stiff from inactivity throbbed as the last of my energy faded. The strenuous day of climbing caught up to me. For the first time the possibility of spending a night alone in the forest made me apprehensive; I had never imagined staying free this long.

  At last, Valek returned and waved me down from the tree. I moved with care, fumbling with the rope around my waist as my abused muscles trembled with fatigue.

  He carried a small sack, which he handed to me. Inside were five of the yellow pods that had been stacked in the last wagon. I took one out. Now that I could see it up close, I noticed that the elongated, oval pod was about eight inches in length, with close to ten furrows running from one end to the other. It was thick around the middle. With two hands wrapped around its center, my fingers just overlapped.

  I was amazed by Valek’s ability to steal them in the daylight from a moving wagon. “How did you get these?”

  “Trade secret,” Valek said with a grin. “Getting the pods was easy, but I had to wait for the men to water their mules to look in the burlap sacks.”

  When I slid the pod back in with the others, I saw that in the bottom of the sack was a pile of dark brown pebbles. Reaching deeper, I pulled a handful into the waning light. They looked like beans.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “They’re from the sacks,” he explained. “I want you to take these back to Commander Ambrose. Tell him I don’t know what they are or where they came from and I’m following the caravan to see where they’re going.”

  “Are they doing something illegal?”

  “I’m not sure. If these pods and beans are from Sitia, then yes. It’s illegal to trade with the south. One thing I do know, those men aren’t traders.”

  I was about to ask him how he knew this, when the answer clicked in my mind. “Their uniforms don’t fit. Borrowed maybe? Or stolen?”

  “Most likely stolen. If you’re going to borrow a uniform, I would think you’d find one that fits.” Valek was quiet for a moment, listening to the sounds of the forest. I could hear the droning of the insects grow louder as the sun set.

  “Yelena, I want you to find those two men you saw this afternoon, and have them escort you back to the castle. I don’t want you alone. If the magician plans on attacking you again, she’ll have to deal with two more, and I doubt she’d have the energy. Don’t tell anyone about your tree climbing, the magician or the caravan. But give a complete report about everything to the Commander.”

  “What about my antidote?”

  “The Commander keeps a supply handy. He’ll give it to you. And don’t worry about your incentive. You’ve earned every penny. When I get back, I’ll make sure you get it. Now, I need to keep moving or I’ll spend the rest of the night catching up to the caravan.”

  “Valek, wait,” I demanded. For the second time today someone wanted to disappear before explaining everything to my satisfaction, and I was growing weary of it.

  He stopped.

  “How do I find the others?” Without the sun, my sense of direction failed. I wasn’t sure if I could find my way back to the clearing, much less to the castle on my own.

  “Just follow this path.” He pointed in the direction the wagons had come from. “I managed to shake them off my tail before I caught up with you. The soldiers were heading southwest; they’re probably staking out this trail. Technically, that’s the best strategy.”

  Valek jogged away along the path. I watched him go. He moved with the light grace and speed of a deer, his muscles rippling under his formfitting camouflage.

  When he was out of sight, I crunched my feet on the loose stones of the trail, making noise. Twilight robbed the trees of color as darkness descended. Uneasiness settled over me. Every rustle caused my heart to jump, and I found myself peering over my shoulder, wishing Valek was here.

  A shout pierced the air. Before I could react, a large shape rushed me, tackling me to the ground.

Chapter Sixteen

  “G ot you!” said the man sitting on top of me.

  Even with my face pressed into the stones, and my mouth full of dirt, I recognized his rough voice from earlier in the day. He yanked my arms behind me. I felt cold metal bite into my wrists as I heard the snap and clink of manacles.

  “Isn’t that a bit much, Janco?” asked Janco’s partner.

  Janco moved off me, and I was hauled to my feet. In the semidarkness, I saw the man that held me was thin, with a goatee. He wore his dark hair buzzed in the typical military style. A thick scar ran from his right temple to his ear. The lower half of his right ear was missing.

  “She was too damn hard to find. I don’t want her getting away,” Janco grumbled.

  His companion was about the same height but twice as wide. Thick, sculpted muscles bulged through his camouflage uniform. Small, damp curls clung to his head, and from this distance his eyes held no color except the black of his pupils.

  I wanted to flee. It was almost dark; I was manacled and alone with two strange men. Logically, I knew that these were the Commander’s soldiers, and they were professionals, but that didn’t stop my pulse from racing.

  “You made us look bad,” Janco said. “Every soldier out here is probably going to be reassigned. We’ll all be cleaning out latrines ’cause of you.”

  “That’s enough, Janco,” Colorless Eyes said. “We won’t be scrubbing floors. We found her. And take a look at that getup. No one expected her to go camo, that’s why she was so hard to find. But, still, the Captain’s gonna shit when he sees this!”