“Yes, highness.” The man snapped to attention.
“Tomorrow in the day, we shall attempt to find their trail. It would be foolish to pursue them in the dark.” Kitlyn glanced at Oona. “Shall we seek lodging for the night, then?”
“Yes. That sounds lovely. We’ve been riding all day.”
After one last look around at the large stain of dried blood, Kitlyn bade one of the soldiers to lead them to the town’s best inn.
It turned out to be the town’s only inn.
17
A Royal Mess
Oona
Neither lying awake for a while after Kitlyn fell asleep, nor dreams provided any answers or eased Oona’s mind.
Over dinner, she’d asked Kitlyn to talk more about what she had seen of the Nimse in Underholm. Hearing how they flowed up walls and over ledges matched what she had seen in the brief vision of shadowy figures racing across buildings in Cimril. The feeling she’d experienced during the vision—absolute certainty that many lives depended on her—kept her awake trying to figure out what might make the Nimse invade.
They’ve attacked Evermoor as well, so it may not be anything Lucernia did.
Despite resting at a countryside inn as opposed to their bedchamber in the castle, Kitlyn had talked her into going without a nightdress. They hadn’t done anything more fun than cuddle, though the warm comfort of being close to her love had made sleep possible. The potential invasion from Nimse paled in comparison to the dread she’d once felt over wiping out a whole kingdom, but still proved sufficient to keep romantic thoughts away.
Once more in her riding outfit, a light tunic under leather armor, Oona wandered Crows’ Corner, still fidgeting at the weight of a longsword on her belt and the foreign sensation of pants. Despite the cured leather being much less flexible than fabric, its design offered more freedom of motion than most of her gowns, and it would laugh off thorns or other brambles in the wild.
Kitlyn wanted to search for a trail and hopefully track the Nimse back to wherever they’d come from. They both assumed that meant Underholm. Though it did have doors facing the Lucernian side, neither of them had ever been there. Based on Kitlyn’s description of the cave-in that blocked her attempt to flee Evermoor via the old underground city, she half expected to find ruins.
Emissary Raesa as well as four soldiers joined them on the way to the eastern part of Crows’ Corner. The townspeople swarmed over them, having realized the queen had come to their humble little slice of land. All greeted them with broad smiles, offering thanks for finally ending the war. The crowd thickened to the point where the small group found themselves stuck in town, unable to head off in search of tracks.
Kitlyn smiled and tried to make her way eastward. People attempting to avoid being rude by coming too close edged away, allowing her a slow creep to the right that gradually plowed a path among them… at least until one man held his ground, somewhat red in the cheeks, breathing fast, and apparently fighting his emotions.
“Why did it take so damn long to end?” rasped the man. “My sister and brother both died to them savages, not even a year ago.”
Kitlyn reached out and took his hand. “I am truly sorry for your loss. But, please, the people from Evermoor are not savages. They are not so different from us.”
“Forgive me,” said Oona. “I spent so many days trying to figure out what I needed to do. I wanted more than anything to end the war, but I couldn’t accept what some seers claimed, that I would destroy them all.”
“The burden wasn’t yours, princess.” The man fought sniffles while staring at Kitlyn.
“I didn’t even know I was the king’s daughter.” Kitlyn looked up into his eyes. “I only learned the truth a few days before confronting him about what he did.”
Several voices rose from the crowd, defending Kitlyn as not being responsible for the former king’s deeds.
The man bowed his head. “I’m sorry, highness. It’s hard to understand why such things happen. They’re right. It is not your fault.” He backed out of her way.
Eventually, the townspeople parted enough to allow them to continue onward. A few commented at the queen wearing ‘common scout’ armor, but several said they found it reassuring they had a monarch who didn’t consider herself so far above the people they never left the castle.
Oona kept smiling back at the villagers, both elated and surprised at the overwhelming show of acceptance and gratitude. Then again, anyone who disapproved of them would likely have remained at a distance. Being this close to the Churning Deep, Crows’ Corner had experienced a great many incursions from Evermoor during the war and likely many dead.
While Raesa discussed with Kitlyn her opinion that too much time had passed for there to be much chance of finding any useful tracks, Oona kept looking around at the people, heartsick that they had been made to suffer so much over the king’s lust for power. She wound up locking stares with a young boy watching them from behind the corner of a house. He appeared about Evie’s age with sandy blond hair and a deep tan.
She smiled at him, but he shied back, hiding more. “Kit, go on for a bit. I’ll catch up.”
“What?” asked Kitlyn, turning toward her.
“I’ve the strongest urge to talk to that boy over there.”
Kitlyn stopped walking and peered toward the child. “All right. Why don’t we both go? Another few minutes won’t affect the tracks, which are probably gone by now anyway.”
The instant both Kitlyn and Oona looked at him, the boy darted out from behind the corner and crawled under the small porch attached to that house. Worry welled up in Oona, driving her up to a jog. Her bouncing longsword swatted her in the leg a few times before she remembered to brace a hand on it.
Upon reaching the house, she squatted by the opening at the porch side and peered into a tiny space where the boy had curled up amid weeds. “Hello.” She put on her most reassuring smile. “Why are you frightened?”
Fearful hazel eyes regarded her for a long few seconds before his lips moved, but he didn’t say anything loud enough to hear.
“I’m Oona. What’s your name?”
“Ral,” whispered the boy.
She smiled. “Hello, Ral. Why are you under there? I know small boys and dirt are good friends, but it’s filthy.”
“I saw demons,” whispered the boy.
“Oh.” Oona exaggerated a slow nod. “Well, then, I have good news for you.” She flared her eyes with eagerness and summoned her light orb in both hands. The two brighter ‘eye spots’ tilted inward as if it grinned at him. “There are no demons here. They’re afraid of Lucen’s light.”
“Ooo.” Ral gawked at the glowing blue orb.
Raesa crouched by the porch, looking at the ground. “His feet are too small. He wouldn’t have made the prints we found by the attacks.”
“Why don’t you come out of there,” said Oona still using her soothing voice.
“I don’t want them to bite me like Tarl. The demon bit his whole arm off.”
Oona let the orb float up to the side and reached both arms toward him. “I won’t let anyone bite you.”
He tentatively crawled closer until she could reach him. Oona grasped him under the arms and pulled him out, cradling him in a hug. Ral trembled for a little while, but eventually, her rocking him and patting his back calmed him enough to relax.
Oof. Oona struggled upright, still holding him. The boy weighed a bit more than Evie. Then again, her sister would make an elf feel thick, and she figured Ral for a little older.
“Hi.” Ral waved at Kitlyn.
“Hello.” She smiled.
“Is this your house?” asked Oona.
“Aye. Live here with me mum an’ sis. Me pa went away.”
Kitlyn and Oona sighed at the same time.
“I’m sorry about your father,” said Oona.
Ral sniffled. “He dis-peared. Mum finks ’e lost out there. But is ’kay. Kell ’n I know ’e’s gotta be wif Ten-brea.”
> Oona squeezed him again, then set him on his feet, at a loss for anything to say.
He looked up at her. “You gonna get rid o’ the demons?”
Kitlyn crouched to eye level with him. “The creatures you saw aren’t demons. They’re alive.”
“Oh. I saw them bite Tarl, but I ran ’way ’cause Mama don’ want me fightin’ nothin’ ’til I’m ’least fifteen. I’m only eight.”
“Did you see where they went?” asked Raesa.
He glanced up at her, tilted his head, then nodded. “Yeah.”
“Ral…” Oona squeezed his shoulders. “Would you be brave enough to show us where?”
“I don’t wanna be eated.” He ground his toe into the dirt.
She threw an arm around his back, turning him to look at Kitlyn, Raesa, and the almost forty soldiers that had collected behind them. “How about if they all come with us?”
The boy’s eyes bulged in awe at the soldiers. “Okay. You sure I won’ get in trouble?”
A dark-haired woman in her mid-thirties peered at them from the door, likely his mother. Her guarded expression suggested her as one of the people Oona assumed had not been terribly thrilled about their presence here. Her imagination filled in the woman yelling something about her wanting to take her son as well as her husband away from her, but to her surprise, the woman nodded.
“You’ll only ask him to show you the place?” asked the mother.
“Yes.” Oona gave the woman an expression of sympathy and apology. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Kitlyn beckoned her closer. “Why don’t you accompany us? Once he shows us the spot, you can bring him straight back here.”
“It’s daytime,” said one of the soldiers. “Those fiends won’t be anywhere near.”
The woman debated for a few seconds before stepping out of the house. A girl of around twelve with mouse-brown hair appeared in the doorway, a worried glint in her eyes. The woman told the girl to mind the house for a few minutes, then came down the stairs and took Ral by the hand. Oona’s floating ball of light appeared to soothe her.
After giving it a long stare, she patted Ral on the head. “Go on and show the princess what she asked you to.”
Oona bit her lip, not quite sure if the woman wasn’t sure what to call the wife of the queen or hadn’t yet learned of the king’s death. She exchanged a glance with Kitlyn, and decided not to pester a grieving widow about titles.
“Here.” Ral pointed off to the northeast, then dashed away.
The eight-year-old led them east past the edge of town into a field. He eventually stopped by a crude shin-high wall made of gathered stones arranged in a passable attempt at a square. A taller tower, about shoulder high to him, stood in the middle.
“This is our fort.” Ral looked up at her. “My friends and I built it to fight goblins.”
Some of the soldiers chuckled, some had ‘get on with it’ expressions, and one told Ral they’d built quite an impressive fortification.
The boy grinned. “We was in here watchin’ for goblins. Mama started callin’ me home fer dinner. But we saw somethin’ movin.” He pointed at a swath of sparse woods east of town. “Olin and Tom ran home, but I didn’t.”
“Brave of you,” said a soldier.
Ral glanced up at Oona. “I’s not brave. I’s too scared ta move. Tarl was out inna field collectin’ ’is sheep. Coupl’a them things came out the woods right there.” He pointed at the trees. “Then a whole lot of ’em. Tarl screamed. They eated alla sheep and then bit him.”
His mother scooped him up and hugged him so hard he gurgled. Evidently, she hadn’t known how close he’d come to being a Nimse’s dinner.
Oona closed her eyes and thanked the gods for protecting him.
“Thank you, Ral.” Raesa patted him on the head. “We might find some tracks leading back to where these fiends came from.”
“Yes.” Kitlyn nodded to the mother. “Thank you. Please stay safe in your home.”
Oona bit her lip watching the mother and son hurry off. The soldiers, Raesa, and Kitlyn strayed off toward the field where that child had witnessed the Nimse attack a man.
We must stop this, and soon.
18
By Lucen’s Light
Kitlyn
Kitlyn walked among the soldiers, following Raesa toward the woods.
“Highness?” asked a man.
She stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“How many should accompany you into the forest or stand watch over Crows’ Corner?” asked the same soldier.
Despite the scare they’d given her in Underholm, the Nimse didn’t seem as though they would be as much of a threat above ground. The prospect of smaller numbers, no walls to leap at her from, plus a longsword and more trust in her magic brought perhaps too much confidence.
Kitlyn looked over the soldiers, mostly men with about six women among them. “I’m not expecting to encounter them during daylight. Five should be sufficient.”
He nodded and appeared to randomly select five soldiers, one woman included, to go with her.
Oona, Raesa, and the five soldiers—Burin, Aleah, Fortin, Lem, and Darrow—followed her across the wide field of grass between Crows’ Corner and the woods. Kitlyn stooped to press a hand to the ground, asking the Stone to lead her the same way the Nimse had gone.
A gentle patter of footsteps ran up her back along with a faint pull ahead and to the right. Kitlyn walked among thin birch trees for a few minutes. Oona and the soldiers crunched through the underbrush behind her, though Raesa moved without any detectable noise. She glanced back over her shoulder at everyone, faintly shook her head, and resumed examining the ground.
We couldn’t sneak up on Omun.
No one direction felt any more appealing than another. Kitlyn looked around again, then pulled her boots off before bundling them and hanging them on her belt.
“What are you doing?” asked Oona.
The soldiers also appeared to share her confusion, though none voiced it.
“Feeling the earth, the memory in the Stone. This is less annoying than stopping every five minutes to touch the ground.”
“So it’s true…” Raesa raised both eyebrows. “You are attuned to the Alderswood.”
“Yes.” Kitlyn opened herself to the energy in the ground.
In seconds, the cool autumn air no longer bothered her bare feet. Soon after, the echo of small footsteps manifested as a feeling ahead of her. Though she couldn’t see anything with her eyes, she somehow knew where the Nimse had trod. Also, the weight of Oona, Raesa, and the soldiers entered her awareness. The sense didn’t permit her to recognize someone’s identity, but being able to detect the presence and general size/weight of someone standing at a given distance and direction away from her added to her confidence.
No Nimse could sneak up on her unless it jumped among the trees.
“They went this way.” Kitlyn pointed where the trails led. “There are at least seven, though I’m sure multiple Nimse followed each path. There could be dozens of them.”
Raesa offered a respectful nod, then advanced to where Kitlyn pointed. She soon located marks on trees and a bitten-in-half small boar. “They didn’t come here to feed, or they would not have left so much meat behind.”
“They’re smart?” asked Aleah.
“You would not know it to look at them, but I believe so.” Oona peered up at the trees as if searching for something.
Kitlyn followed the memory trail in the earth, subconsciously stepping where the Nimse had. They walked for the better part of an hour until the distant roar of the Churning Deep emerged from the silence up ahead.
“Do you think they came up the canyon wall?” asked Oona.
“Maybe.” Kitlyn closed her eyes and tried to reach ahead with her magic, expecting a telltale bend in the trails at the canyon, where they angled straight down. Such a climb would be a triviality to the Nimse, as she’d seen them scoot like spiders across smooth
stone walls within Underholm. The natural rock of the Churning Deep with its crags and small ledges had to be many times easier for them to traverse. Much to her surprise, the trails converged at a single point not far ahead before diverting downward in a winding path that reminded her of a giant root. “They didn’t scale the canyon. I think they… burrowed.”
She advanced toward the tunnel-like wound in the earth that floated in the darkness upon the backs of her eyelids. Every few steps, she opened her eyes to avoid running into trees. The soldiers formed a single-file line behind Raesa, who strode along behind Oona.
“Be ready,” said Raesa in a near whisper before pausing to string her bow. “There may be danger ahead.”
“But it’s not dark.” Oona nervously gripped her sword.
“Listen.” Raesa gestured at the trees.
Everyone stopped moving.
Kitlyn considered the forest for a moment before saying, “It is completely silent. That means something but I’m not sure what.”
“You’re right.” Raesa smiled. “There should be at least the chirps of birds or the rustle of small animals. Something is here that does not belong, and the animals are avoiding the area. However, the disturbance could be merely a person.”
“Still, best to be ready.” Kitlyn eyed the soldiers, who drew their blades in response.
“Shouldn’t you put your boots back on?” whispered Darrow, an incredibly tall man with broad shoulders but a relatively lanky frame.
“Her magic is stronger without them.” Oona half drew her sword, thought better of it, and put it away.
Raesa chuckled. “You know how the savages are, running about the forest with nary a scrap of clothing.”
Two of the soldiers gasped in shock, as though she had called the Queen of Lucernia a savage.
The Cursed Crown Page 18
