The Vaetra Chronicles: Book 01 - Vaetra Unveiled (14 page)

Talon got to his feet with a grunt, and a big grin returned to his face. "Come on, I almost had it," he said to Sulana.

Barek leaned back and laughed loudly. Daven joined in and Sulana chuckled too. Their battle tension eased as they all turned to appraise the troll's carcass.

"What a monster!" Daven commented.

Talon nodded and sheathed his sword. "One of the biggest I've seen. That was a satisfying kill."

Barek grunted. "Except when you are the one who gets killed. You're out of practice."

Talon rubbed his left shoulder where the troll had crashed into him and rotated his arm. "You're right. I need to volunteer for the trail crew again and sharpen my troll-hunting skills."

Sulana rolled her eyes. The Archives "trail crew" were a small group of sorcerers and guardians who repaired the trails each spring and maintained them during the year. Occasionally, a troll would move in and claim an area that the trail went through, as this one apparently had, and they would eventually have to deal with the creature. Trolls were fiercely territorial and not afraid of humans.

She knew Talon had worked the trails for years, relishing every troll encounter. As a child he had seen both of his parents killed in a troll attack just outside their village. Trolls normally avoided human habitations, but once in a while, a female would establish a territory near a village, creating a dangerous situation. Talon had a personal vendetta that would never be satisfied until every troll was dead.

The horses shifted nervously as the troll's spell finally started wearing off. If not for their human caretakers, at least one of them would have been lunch for the troll. Trolls weren't particularly fast; an unencumbered human could usually outrun them. But when they were able to sneak up on their faster prey and use it, their immobilizing roar made up for their lack of speed.

Talon and Barek walked over to their recovering horses to calm them. Talon handed his reins to Sulana and nodded at the dagger in her hand. "Nice dagger. I didn't know you had one of those."

She looked down at the forgotten dagger in her hand and put it away. "I borrowed it from the armory before we left, although I'm barely strong enough to use it. I just hope we don't run into another one of those things," she angled her head toward the troll, "because I couldn't do that again for quite a while."

Talon patted her leg and smiled up at her. "Don't worry. I'm all loosened up now. If we find another troll, I'll take care of it."

He looked over at the troll and pulled his dagger from his belt. "Well, do you want the honors?"

She knew what he was asking. Troll teeth and claws were worth quite a bit of money. It would be a waste to leave them behind. But she was still feeling a little sick from channeling the vaetra necessary for the lightning bolt, and the idea of harvesting the troll made her even more nauseous. "No thanks. You're the one who almost got killed," she said teasingly. "It's all yours."

Talon walked over to the troll, motioning Barek to give him a hand. Barek handed his reins to Daven and followed Talon.

Daven looked over at Sulana. "Do we have time for this?"

Sulana looked up at the sky and the crowns of the surrounding trees, but it was hard to tell how much time they had left until sunset. "I don't want to spoil their fun," she said, looking over to where Talon and Barek were busily hacking away at the troll, "and I think we'll still make it to the Archives before dusk."

"Do you really think the Archives Council will send a different team to find the sorcerer?" he asked her seriously.

Sulana considered his question for a moment. "I hope not. We've come this far and I'd like to see it through to the end. Let's just wait and see what they have to say when we get back."

P
atches and I left Delta on the road we came in on, and I urged him into a trot. The scenery was lovely, with steep, forested hillsides to our right and the shore of Teardop Lake to our left. A few intrepid wildflowers were starting to bloom along side of the road. Trillium, with its three large green leaves and delicate, ruffled, white flowers nodded in the breeze. Here and there a pink fairy slipper raised its tiny dragon-like head, watching the rest of the world wake up to springtime.

Ahead of me, the Delta Peninsula interrupted the shoreline and spread out across the lake. Almost an island, the peninsula was connected to the northern shore of the lake by a short strip of land. The eastern edge of the peninsula created a narrow slough that was lined with cat tails and acted as a temporary home to early migrating waterfowl. Ducks and geese waddled to the water and glided away from shore, squawking to their fellows in warning as I approached. Some of the ducks quacked with alarm and flew off; their webbed feet splashed across the surface of the lake and left ripples spreading out behind them as they took to the air.

I reached the peninsula road and turned left onto it. The road went straight for a short distance into the forest, and then turned to the right, just as Alain had described. At the turn, a weathered wooden sign pointed the way to Buckwoods Village.

At first, I didn't see the trail that I was supposed to find. The area alongside and behind the sign was cleared back some, but it wasn't until I coaxed Patches behind the sign that I discovered the trail. It went off at an angle and immediately jogged to the right, which made it difficult to spot from the road. The pathway was narrow but cleared back enough for me to continue riding.

I rode along the trail through dense pine forest, occasionally dodging the branches of spindly young trees that had grown up along the pathway. I let Patches drink from a shallow stream that bubbled across the path and then urged him across. A little farther down the trail Patches slowed to step over a couple of rotting logs, which were covered with moss and partially crushed by previous travelers. At last, I came to the clearing.

The area was perhaps 30 paces across and roughly circular. To my right, a fire ring held ashes and a few chunks of charred wood. To my left, many hoof prints and droppings indicated where horses had been tethered. The trail continued on through the opposite side of the clearing, but it was too overgrown to travel comfortably on horseback. I rode Patches over to the tethering spot, dismounted, and tied him to a convenient stout branch.

This late in the day, the tall trees surrounding the clearing completely shaded it. I could see only a short way into the dense thicket of trees that bordered the clearing. The birds in the area were already starting to quiet down, and the deep shadow hinted at the evening to come. I had no time to waste.

I looked around for Tam's belongings. If they were still here, Tam probably was still in the area as well. If he had come back to get them, he may have truly run away as his father suspected. After a moment's search, I discovered that his things were still at the clearing, half-hidden under a shrub near the fire pit.

I pulled the bundle out to take a closer look, and I was surprised to find a full set of clothes and boots. Why did the boys bring a change of clothes with them? What was Tam wearing now? When I moved the boots aside to see if there was anything else in the hollow under the shrub, something rattled around inside one of them. I carefully tipped the boot up, and a small bottle made from dark glass slid out onto the ground.

I picked up the bottle and turned it around in my hand. It was about as tall as my middle finger and had a small cork stopper. Its painted foil label depicted a howling wolf's head on a full moon backdrop and the single word "Eclipse." I had no idea what it contained, but the craftsmanship of the bottle and quality of the label indicated something expensive. I shook the bottle and discovered that it was still about half full of some kind of liquid.

I popped the cork and held the bottle up to my nose. The liquid smelled like some kind of herbal infusion in oil, and something about it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I replaced the cork and slipped the bottle into my pocket. I'd ask Alain about it later; or maybe Tam, if I found him first. Given that the bottle was the only thing left behind with Tam's clothes, I strongly suspected it was related to their activities out here in the woods.

In the meantime, I still had enough light left to take a quick hike farther down the path. Perhaps I'd find some evidence of where Tam might be now.

***

I left Patches at the clearing and followed the path deeper into the forest. I jogged for short bursts and stopped occasionally to inspect the ground or the vegetation when something caught my eye. The trail was springy underfoot from layers of rotting leaves and pine needles, but the packed surface wasn't good for tracking because it held no prints. Faint game trails intersected the path here and there. I ignored these trails because they would require serious bushwhacking to investigate and I didn't have time for that.

I came to another stream crossing the path and finally found something interesting. In the mud on both sides of the stream were clear canine paw prints of at least two different sizes.

I knelt down next to the stream to get a better look. Alain hadn't mentioned bringing any dogs. I'd have to ask him about that later too. They could be wolf prints, but they were a little too big. If wolves had created these prints, the animals were much larger than average. Perhaps the eating was good on the peninsula.

I worried for a moment about Patches being alone back in the clearing, but he was pretty good at fending for himself, and he was tied loosely enough that he could get free if he really needed to do so.

From my position closer to the ground, I could see a smudged print along the edge of the grass line. The impression looked like it could have been made by the first two toes of a human foot, but it was hard to imagine someone walking around on this trail barefoot at this time of year. Besides, each print included a clear punch mark in the mud. It was the kind of mark a claw would make. The forest shadows were growing deeper and it was definitely getting harder to make out details, so I decided that I must be mistaken about the source of the print.

I jogged farther down the trail and came to a fork where I stopped to consider the alternatives. I was more or less going south right now, so the right fork would take me west and the left fork would take me east. The right fork was definitely more traveled, and it seemed to me that Tam would go that way if he got lost somehow, so I decided to take the right fork.

I continued down the trail for a few minutes, but saw nothing worth stopping to inspect. A startled squirrel bounded across the path with his bushy tail held high. The squirrel ran up the trunk of a tree, sat on a branch, and scolded me.

I was just starting to think I should turn around and head back when the forest started to thin, and bright sunlight lit the trail in front of me. It was as if time had slid back a couple of hours and evening had turned back into afternoon. I heard voices and slowed down as I neared the edge of the forest. I stayed back in the shadows of the trees and looked out into an open area beyond the trailhead. I had found Buckwoods Village.

The low sun cast an orange glow upon the small fishing village, which occupies a section of the peninsula's western shore. Long shadows turned most of what I could see into silhouettes. The village had five small huts, a dock, and a few outbuildings. Villagers carrying baskets of fish walked back and forth between a couple of large rowboats and a large covered bench. A couple of men were cleaning the fish at the bench. They seemed happy about the day's haul and were chatting amiably about it.

Then I spotted two men conversing next to a small stone building. They wore leather armor and Raven Company tabards. I knew them both. Kefer and Peltor were supposed to be escorting a wagon from Delta to Plains End, but they apparently didn't get very far. What were they doing in Buckwoods?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

I stepped out of the trees with a confused frown and walked over toward them. As soon as I emerged from the trees, one of the men saw me and straightened. The other looked my way too. They drew their swords in unison and ran toward me.

Surprised by their reaction, I stopped walking and held up my hands to show they were empty. My sword was back with Patches, so all I had was my dagger to defend myself, if it came to that. Kefer and Peltor were competent swordsmen, and I doubted I could make a good showing for myself against both of them with only a dagger.

The two men arrayed themselves in front of me, leaving each other room for a clear strike. Kefer looked closely at me. "Jaylan? What are you doing here?"

Kefer is a few inches taller than I am. He stands a little over six feet and has shoulder-length wavy brown hair and light blue eyes. We were occasional sparring partners and had worked one job together as escort guards. It was not unlike the job he was working now with Peltor. We normally got along fine, which made his current behavior unexpected and strange.

Peltor is another story. He is about my height with long, dark, curly hair and a thin dark mustache. A beak of a nose dominates his narrow face. Peltor's sneering personality and mine come together like oil and water, so that nose has tempted my fist on a number of occasions. He seemed perfectly happy to have me at a disadvantage. With a half-smile, he stared at me intently and shifted his weight back and forth. He was barely able to suppress his desire to engage me.