Authors: Maria V. Snyder
“Was there any resistance?”
“I doubt it. If Grzebien is anything like Mengels, there’s not enough people or energy to put up much of a fight.” She glanced at the back door. “If the High Priestess’s army can stop bastards like them and bring peace back, I’m more than happy to wear one of those red robes and give thanks to their creator.”
Which, from what I’d learned from Tara, Melina would be forced to do. The High Priestess, also known as Estrid of Ozero was intolerant of other faiths, and required her subjects to be members of her cultlike religion. Was she better or worse than Tohon? I mulled it over as I rummaged for food. Bianca and Peni helped me cook a simple vegetable soup. Melina’s pale face worried me. She sat nearby, holding a wet cloth to her bleeding cheek. I asked her who the other powerful survivors were to distract her from the pain.
“Tohon of Sogra and Prince Ryne of Ivdel until he disappeared. I’ve also heard a couple Algan princes, President Lyady’s daughter and a few other minor nobles lived, but they’re not looking to rule, just survive like the rest of us. Oh, and some guy claiming he’s the Skeleton King has a small army in Ryazan Realm.”
“That’s it?” Now Kerrick’s comment about Tohon wanting Ryne dead made more sense. As I thought about the problem, I wondered how greedy Tohon could be? Fifteen Realms split three ways would give each leader five Realms. But who would decide which five? Each Realm had its own assets and drawbacks. The richest ones would be the most desirable.
I found a loaf of bread and a wedge of goat’s cheese to go with the soup. Melina picked listlessly at her portion while I tore into mine. I saved a hunk of both for Kerrick.
When I suggested we get a few hours of sleep, Melina shot to her feet. “No. I’m not… I can’t… I want to go home.” Her body shook.
I embraced her as she broke down. She had been so strong earlier and hadn’t complained at all that I had forgotten how young she was—at least three years younger than Bianca and Peni. Guiding her over to a cot, I lay down next to her. Magic pulsed under my ribs and I released it. Melina had been punched repeatedly in the face. While I could heal her wounds, I couldn’t erase her memories. At least she’d have Mom to comfort her.
A hand shook my shoulder. I jerked awake. Kerrick leaned over me. Annoyance creased his brow. Melina stood behind him. She covered her mouth with her hand, staring at me with wide eyes as she put the clues together. She felt great and I had bruises covering my face. I wondered if Melina or the other girls would turn me in, but I couldn’t produce the energy to care.
“My men will be here soon,” Kerrick said, straightening.
“The ones you ordered to stay at the inn?” I asked, suppressing a grin.
“Yes. They’re leading Mom and half the town watch straight here. Quain is tracking our trail—which should be impossible to follow.” Disgruntled, he glanced at the door. “I taught him too well. Either that or Quain is half eagle.”
“A bald eagle?” I quipped.
Kerrick smiled a genuine smile. One that reached his eyes. Good thing I was already lying down or I would have fainted in surprise. It faded as he studied me.
“Will you be able to travel?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He strode to the door and unlocked it. With his hand on the knob, he paused and looked at me. “My men had
never
disobeyed an order before we found you.”
Even though his comment was meant to be a complaint, I said, “Thank you,” just to annoy him.
It worked. He decided to wait for his men outside. Sunlight streamed in from the open door. I blinked in the brightness. Morning already?
“Avry, what happened?” Melina asked. “Your face… Are you…?”
I sat up and made room for her to sit next to me. “Yes, I’m a healer.” I spoke in a low voice so the others didn’t overhear, not that it would matter once they saw me.
“Is that why those people from last night are after you?” she asked.
“Unfortunately.”
“Is Kerrick protecting you so he can turn you in for the bounty?”
She had a quick intelligence, and, out of curiosity, I asked, “What do you think?”
Tugging on the hem of her tunic, Melina considered my question for a few minutes. “He’s protecting you, but not for the gold.” She put her hand on my cheek. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” The truth.
“
Did
it hurt?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
“No, Melina, it doesn’t.” How to explain it? I searched for the right words. “Your pain was a reminder of what happened to you. But the pain I felt was connected to you—a bright young lady. By healing your injuries, I was helping you and that transforms how I perceive the pain, making it bearable.”
She still looked unconvinced.
I tried again. “It’s like when I held my newborn sister. Noelle was heavy and my muscles ached, but the discomfort paled in comparison to my awe over her presence in my arms. I would have been content to hold her....” Sudden grief choked off my words. I had been six, but I’d never forget the intense desire to hold and protect her forever. As she grew, she had been full of impish curiosity. And she’d follow me so much that I’d called her my little shadow.
“They’re here,” Kerrick said behind me.
I startled and turned, but he had already left. He needed to wear a bell or something, I grumbled as voices called. In no time, Mom barreled past everyone and gathered Melina in her arms.
The town watch took the four men into custody. Mom squinted hard at me, and I immediately felt guilty. But she didn’t comment on my bruises. As Melina and the others told their tales, no one mentioned my healing powers.
Belen and the others waited outside. They had brought all our travel gear. We could leave from the cabin and not have to backtrack to the Lamp Post Inn first, which made Kerrick a bit happier.
When I joined them, the guys appeared to be glad to see me. Belen inspected my face.
“Good thing I wasn’t here,” Belen said in a low growl. “I would have ripped the four of them apart and scattered the pieces for the scavengers to eat.”
Quain scanned the ground at our feet. “It looked like quite a fight. What happened here?” He pointed to a long scuff mark.
“That’s where she made good use of Belen’s—or should I say her—knife,” Kerrick said. He turned to me. “You can keep them if you promise not to use them against us.”
I copied his flat expression. “First, it’s not
your
decision if I can keep them or not, it’s Belen’s. Second, I am
not
going to promise—”
“The knives are yours,” Belen said. “And we should teach you how to swing a sword.”
Kerrick coughed. “No, we shouldn’t. She’s dangerous enough.” He ended the discussion by ordering us to gather our packs.
We said goodbye to Bianca, Peni, Melina and Mom.
“You’re welcome to come back anytime,” Mom said to me. “We’ll always have a room for you. No charge. I know what you must have done for my daughter, but don’t you worry, we won’t say a word.”
I hugged her in thanks. It felt good to be embraced even if it was for only a moment.
We headed north. No clouds marred the bright blue sky. The air held a cool crisp scent of leaves and earth—gorgeous weather that was perfect for hiking. Kerrick led, and for the first time since I’d been rescued from Jaxton’s jail, I felt…not quite content since anxiety, worry and fear still shadowed me. But more alive.
When I used my magic to heal others, I had a purpose and felt satisfaction over helping another. I was needed. Even if this “adventure” didn’t last long, it had roused me from the nothingness that my life had been before. Three wasted years. Even though I’d healed a few children, I could have done so much more, but had been too afraid.
Despite the men’s routine, I decided to help when we stopped for the night. As the designated cook, Loren prepared the meal. His concoctions were edible, but plain, so I went in search of something…tastier.
Of course Kerrick followed me. “Where are you going?”
I bit my lip to trap my sarcastic reply. Instead, I said, “If I had intended to break my word, I would have done it last night after you passed out.”
He didn’t respond right away. Finally, he said, “Don’t wander too far.” He returned to camp.
Interesting. I looped around, inspecting the plants. Tara had taught me which ones could be used for fevers and other maladies. She explained that in a few cases like minor injuries, plants worked just as well and would save our healing energy for the more dire cases. In the six months I’d been her student, I had learned so much. But to her, it had only been a small portion of her vast experience and expertise. I not only mourned her death, but the loss of all her knowledge, as well.
I found a few sprigs of rosemary and returned. Ignoring the collective sigh when I appeared, I stripped off the leaves and handed them to Loren.
He sniffed them in suspicion. “What’s this?”
I guess it would take more than my word for them to trust me. “Rosemary.” No glimmer of recognition. “It’s to make your stew taste better. Don’t you know the basic herbs and spices?”
“No. I took this job in self-defense. Quain burns everything. Belen thinks jerky is all we need to survive. Flea’s idea of a good meal is something that hasn’t been in a garbage can first. And Kerrick poisoned us—”
“Not on purpose,” Kerrick said. “The meat looked done.”
I realized then that Kerrick had assigned Quain first watch. Another oddity. “Well, my cooking skills are rudimentary, but I know herbs and can help you if you’d like.”
Loren glanced at Kerrick, before he said, “Sure.” He returned the leaves to me.
I broke them into little pieces and sprinkled them into the stew.
“Speaking of food,” Kerrick said. “Belen, do you remember when we were in school and Ryne had gotten upset over the amount of wasted food?”
Here we go. Kerrick was as subtle as a thunderstorm.
Belen chuckled. “Yeah. He’d been assigned garbage duty for fighting.”
The real story.
“I wouldn’t call it fighting,” Kerrick said. “He was protecting the new kid from Stanslov.”
“Good thing Master Fang came when he did. Otherwise, Ryne would have been turned into pulp.”
“Instead, his punishment was two weeks of dealing with garbage.” Kerrick placed another log on the fire. “By the end of those two weeks, Ryne had worked out a way to donate all the extra food to the poor in town.”
I debated ignoring them, but this could be a good opportunity to get more information. “Did you meet Ryne in school, then?” I asked Belen.
“Yeah. The three of us attended boarding school for brats.”
“Brats? I can’t believe
you’d
fit in that group,” I said.
Belen’s deep laugh vibrated in my chest. “I didn’t.” He jabbed a finger at Kerrick. “Even though I’m four years older than him, his father insisted I go along so I could keep him out of trouble.” Belen huffed. “Didn’t work. And every time he caused problems, I’d be sucked in and we’d both be punished.”
“You’d have been bored otherwise,” Kerrick said.
“Are you two related?” I asked Belen.
“No. My parents worked for his family for years. We grew up together.” Then Belen sobered. “The plague took my mother and my older sister. But my younger sister survived, and Izak, one of Kerrick’s brothers, lived.”
Quiet descended over the campsite.
“As far as I know, my great-aunt Yasmin is still alive,” Kerrick added. “Which doesn’t make sense since she’s ancient and has been ill for as long as I can remember.”
Nothing about the plague made sense. The healers had tried every herb and tonic they knew to heal the victims to no avail.
“Where is your sister now?” I asked Belen.
“Sayen is guarding Prince Ryne. He has many loyal supporters. We were expanding our reach and bringing order to the chaos, but once he sickened, everything stopped. There’s no one else like him.”
“You’re right. No other Realm leader has executed as many prisoners as Prince Ryne.” The words popped from my mouth before I could stop them. I glanced at Kerrick, but he kept his relaxed position by the fire.
“His father ordered all those executions,” Belen said.
“Come on. Everyone knows King Micah was just a figurehead during the six years after his accident. And he died before the plague struck.”
“A figurehead who still had loyal generals despite his erratic behavior. When Micah decided to clean out the dungeons, they followed his orders. By the time word reached Ryne, it was too late.”
Flea started throwing stones to practice juggling. I joined him, glad for an excuse to end the conversation about Ryne.
Except it picked up where we had left off the next night and the following three nights. I had made a mistake in directing my questions to Belen on that first night. He had a sincere honesty that was hard to ignore, and, after getting the topic steered to Ryne, Kerrick let Belen take over the reminiscing.
However, on the fifth night Kerrick took first watch. Belen paced around the campfire and even Flea remained quiet. During the day, I had noticed the strain in Quain’s face and witnessed a couple intense, but private discussions between the men.