Authors: Maria V. Snyder
Not much I could do. “As long as you
stress
to him that it’s
vital
and
time sensitive.
”
“Of course.” A hint of a smirk curled as he turned to find a messenger.
“Flea.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Kerrick would be proud.”
I was rewarded with one of his full-blown smiles before he hurried away.
* * *
I helped pack herbs and write instructions while I waited for Ryne. With every slight noise or scrape of a boot, I glanced at the entrance. What was taking him so long?
When he finally arrived a few hours later, I couldn’t miss the commotion that heralded his approach. At first, I thought a fight had broken out in the hall. Flea pulled his sword and stood by the door. Voices called, and a big group of men burst into the room followed by Ryne, Thea and Major Granvil.
It took me a heartbeat to recognize a couple jumping jacks among that first clump. They carried an injured man. I pointed to a bed. And only when they laid him down did they allow me to get close.
Ursan. One part of me cried out in dismay, but another catalogued his injuries. A deep gash on his head bled profusely. He hugged his stomach, and his right leg bent at an impossible angle. Broken. His eyes were squeezed shut, but they opened when I touched his neck, feeling his rapid pulse and sweat-slick skin. Pain-filled eyes met my gaze, and I knew there was another deeper wound.
Magic bloomed from my core, but I held back while I sought the injury. It wasn’t hard to find as his men had tried to bandage it. A huge chunk of flesh had been gouged from his side as if an ufa had taken a bite out of him, damaging his spleen and a kidney. Fatal for him. I wasn’t sure about my chances, but I didn’t hesitate.
When I reached to touch him again, he grabbed my arms with surprising speed, wrapping his fingers around my sleeves.
“No,” he gasped, stopping me. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I asked.
“Save me.”
“Not your decision.” I tried to move my hands closer to make skin contact, but he held on with all his considerable strength.
“Listen.” He hissed in pain. “It stinks...”
“Let me—”
“Listen! It...all stinks...every...where.” He shuddered, but he wouldn’t let go. “Under...stand?”
“Yes. It stinks. Now let me heal you.”
“No.”
I glanced at the others hovering nearby. “Help me.”
Ryne stood next to me. “Will you survive?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” Ryne said in a soft voice.
“She...won’t.” Ursan convulsed again. “I...know...” He met Ryne’s gaze. “Don’t let...her.”
Ursan’s grip relaxed as he passed out. Before I could touch him, Ryne grabbed me and yanked me back. I yelled and struggled, but he wouldn’t let go. Stronger than he looked, Ryne trapped my arms so I couldn’t zap him.
All I could do was watch as Ursan drew in his last breath. Utter sadness washed through me. I sagged against Ryne until I remembered he had prevented me from healing Ursan.
“Bastard,” I said, jerking from his embrace.
Ryne didn’t reply. Silence blanketed the room. I closed Ursan’s eyes. No life sparked under my fingertips. He was beyond my reach. I glanced at the others. Three jumping jacks, Thea, Major Granvil and Flea stared at Ursan with various degrees of grief. My gaze lingered on Flea, and a bit of hope pushed against the gloom inside me. Perhaps a Peace Lily would bring Ursan back to life.
But something was missing. I scanned the faces again until I reached Flea. Then it hit me. Not something but someone. Belen.
“Where’s Belen?” I asked one of the jacks.
He dropped his gaze and stared at the floor. “He’s gone.”
Terrified, I rounded on him. “What do you mean by
gone?
”
His buddy answered for him. “Belen disappeared.”
KERRICK
“Are they going to kill us?” Danny asked.
The boy had hooked his arm through Kerrick’s as they walked toward Krakowa with the tribesmen. Unlike Kerrick, Danny’s hands were free, and he had his backpack. Kerrick considered his response carefully. He didn’t want to scare Danny, but he didn’t want to lie to him either.
Was it better to be prepared for death or surprised? Kerrick had no idea. His ribs throbbed with every step, and the rope they’d used to bind his wrists behind his back stung as blood dripped down his hands. His sluggish thoughts felt as if they’d been soaking too long in pickle juice. The combination of not enough sleep and food over the past seven days had taken a toll on him.
“They’ll keep us alive as long as they have a use for us,” Kerrick said. He glanced over his shoulder.
Noak followed the warriors. Since they’d started the trek north, Kerrick had been racking his brain trying to figure out why Noak was returning instead of conquering the rest of the northern realms. Perhaps he was scared of the plague. Kerrick almost laughed at the notion that something good might happen because of the plague.
“How do we know when they don’t need us anymore?” Danny asked. His fingers dug into Kerrick’s arm as he gazed up at Kerrick with eyes wide.
Poor kid was terrified. Kerrick lowered his voice. “Danny, I want you to do something for me.”
Danny’s grip tightened, but he kept steady. “What is it?”
“I want you to make friends. Be helpful. Ask questions and learn about their ways and beliefs.”
“Like a spy?”
“Yes. But you need to be genuine about it.”
“Why?”
Kerrick took a moment to form a reply. It would be so much easier to just order Danny, but the boy would resist. “If they...like you, they’ll always find a use for you.”
“You mean they won’t kill me?”
Too smart by far.
“Yes.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Danny gave him a long look. “Yeah, right.”
* * *
Over the next day, Danny took Kerrick’s advice. At first the warriors rejected the boy, but he persisted, trying different tactics.
That day—their third on the road—Kerrick estimated they’d reach the outskirts of Krakowa by midsummer’s day. And then what?
Not long after they stopped to prepare for the night, Kerrick dozed until shouts and curses rang out nearby. One of the warriors dragged Danny along by his arm. The warrior talked to Noak in a rapid-fire burst, gesturing wildly.
Kerrick caught the words
poison, sneak
and
kill.
Not good. He summoned his strength in case he needed to help Danny. The boy held a plant in his hands. Dirt still clung to the roots.
Danny tried to explain, but Noak clipped him on the ear. Kerrick pushed to his feet, sliding his back and scraping his arms along the tree’s trunk until he stood. He yelled at Noak. All three turned toward him.
Noak snatched the plant from Danny and strode to Kerrick. The warrior pulled Danny with him as he followed his leader. The boy pressed a hand over his left ear, but held back the tears that threatened to spill over his eyelashes.
“What’s this?” Noak asked, waving the green leaves.
Kerrick glanced at Danny. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
Noak grabbed Kerrick’s throat. “I asked a question.”
Icy daggers shot through his neck, but Kerrick kept his gaze on Danny. “I don’t know. Danny, what’s going on?”
“It’s a fonswup plant,” Danny said in a rush. “It helps with infection. I wanted to give it to Onion. He has a bad cut on his leg.”
Noak released him and turned to Danny. “How do you know this?”
Danny looked at Kerrick as if seeking permission. Kerrick nodded.
“It’s in Avry’s book. She gave me her notes before she died.”
“Show me,” Noak ordered.
Danny fetched his backpack. He pulled Avry’s journal out and flipped through it. When he reached the page he sought, he turned the book so Noak could see. He pointed to a drawing of a fonswup plant and the explanation written in Avry’s neat hand. “It says it right here.”
Kerrick was impressed by the artwork. Avry’s picture appeared so lifelike with the delicate leaves and blue veins.
Noak stared at the page with his brow creased. Suspicion or confusion, Kerrick couldn’t tell. Perhaps the leader couldn’t read.
“Danny, how does it say to prepare it?” Kerrick asked.
“Boil the leaves in hot water and drink the broth.”
“Noak, let him brew the...tea and I’ll drink it first. He’s trying to help...Onion? Is it?”
Danny nodded.
“He won’t hurt Onion,” Kerrick said.
“Why would he help?” Noak asked.
That was an easy question to answer. “Because the woman who gave him that book was a healer. And she’d heal anyone, friend or foe, without hesitation. He honors her memory by doing the same.”
“With magic?”
“No. With plants.”
Noak still didn’t look convinced, but he allowed Danny to brew the medicine. Kerrick swallowed a few mouthfuls. It was bitter but had no ill effects. Danny was eventually allowed to treat Onion.
When Danny reported that the warrior’s cut looked better, the tight fist that had been clamped around Kerrick’s heart since he’d seen Danny in Noak’s hands eased a fraction. The boy had found a way to be needed.
CHAPTER 13
The day after Ursan died dawned with bright sunlight in a cloudless blue sky. The temperature rose as the hour of his funeral approached. Last night I had wanted to search for Poppa Bear and would have left in an instant, except that bastard Ryne prevented me from leaving the infirmary. He had promised to investigate.
As I’d waited for news, one horrible scenario after another ran through my mind. I couldn’t concentrate. Each hour that Belen failed to return upped my agitation level tenfold. If Tohon had taken Belen... I shied away from those thoughts. Instead, I focused on planning my next move. If I could bypass my keepers, then I could...what? Offer myself in Belen’s place? Yes, I would, despite the sheer terror that gripped me when I imagined myself back with Tohon. Belen was worth it.
Eventually, I’d gone to bed heartsick and exhausted.
Ryne arrived at midmorning. He wore a blue silk tunic and black pants. And for the first time since I’d known him, he looked regal. Loren and Quain followed him in. They, too, wore formal clothes.
“Are you ready?” Ryne asked.
Too worried about Belen, I had forgotten about changing into proper attire for a funeral. I hurried to my room. My nicest clothes were the green skirt and light yellow shirt Kerrick had bought me long ago. I debated between that and my dress uniform and decided that, for Ursan, my dress uniform was more appropriate. After I changed, I joined Ryne, and we walked to the burial grounds east of the manor house.
Estrid’s creator promised life after death, and her religion insisted on a proper burial in hallowed ground. I stood between Quain and Loren as the High Priestess performed the ceremony—an unexpected honor. Jael’s absence wasn’t a surprise. Major Granvil, Lieutenant Thea, the sergeants and the remaining jacks were also in attendance.
Only three jacks had returned from the mission. According to the report, they had encountered a troop of dead soldiers but hadn’t been able to capture one. Instead, they’d been attacked and then pursued when they retreated. Belen and Ursan each had taken five jacks and split up to confuse the enemy.
Ursan’s group had run into another ambush, which they’d barely escaped alive. Unfortunately, one of the jacks had died before they could reach me. And Ursan... I shied away from those thoughts, only to brood about Belen’s whereabouts.
When Ursan’s coffin was lowered into the ground, Loren leaned close and whispered, “It’s empty. We have his body.”
“When?” I asked. Hope replaced my grief for a moment, but I tucked it away. There was no guarantee that the Peace Lily would take Ursan, let alone revive him.
“Right after the service.”
“I need to be there.”
“That’s why I’m telling you. Do you still have the Lily location map?”
“No.” I glanced at Saul. He stood with Liv, Wynn and Odd. They all bowed their heads as Estrid asked the creator to welcome Ursan’s soul into her peaceful embrace.
After the High Priestess finished, she grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into the open grave. Then as custom dictated, each person in attendance would add another handful. A line formed as Estrid moved away from the burial site. I followed Quain, and Loren stepped behind me, ending the queue.
“I’ll talk to Saul,” I said to Loren in a low voice as we waited for our turn. “If he doesn’t have the map anymore, I’m pretty sure I can find the Peace Lily again,” I said.
“Good,” Loren said.
“How do you plan to move—”
“Horses.”
“But it’s been a day, and with this heat...isn’t he...” I couldn’t finish.
“We have him on ice.”
“Where did you find ice?”
Loren glanced around and then whispered, “Marisol, the water mage. Prince Ryne is acquainted with her and the specifics of her power.”
“Does she know why you needed it?”
“Probably not. Prince Ryne made the arrangements. The wagon and horses are ready. They’re over by the woods next to the POW camp. We’ll meet there an hour after the service. Prince Ryne wants us back tomorrow.”
Which was midsummer’s day. “But what if the Lily doesn’t spit him out right away?” I asked.
“Then we’ll return on another day.”
I faced forward as we drew closer to Ursan’s grave. When it was my turn, I grabbed a fistful of moist earth. It hadn’t rained at the camp in weeks, but the grass out here was a lush green. Was Marisol’s or Jael’s power keeping it watered?
Leaning over the open grave, I let the dirt pour from my hand onto the top of Ursan’s coffin. My emotions swirled into a confusing mix of sadness, guilt and dread if our plan didn’t work. I closed my eyes and made a silent promise to do all that I could for him.
After the ceremony, the sergeants approached me. Although time was an issue, I wouldn’t hurry away. No humor sparked in Odd’s gaze, Liv and Wynn looked glum, and lines of grief creased Saul’s face.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I tried—”