“Well, there’s a miracle,” Quain said. “First time Brother Wind Bag has been speechless.”
“Avry, are you going to introduce us to your friends?” Loren asked.
Fydelia glanced at me. “Avry?”
“I’ll explain later. Those two are part of my rescue team.” I introduced them to her.
The women let the monkeys free.
Loren reached under his robe and pulled out a set of my throwing knives bundled together. “Thought you might want these.” He tossed it.
I caught it in midair. “Ah, Loren, you really know how to spoil a girl.”
“I aim to please.”
“Real touching,” Odd said drily. “But we need to stay focused. And we’ll need Keidan’s robe.”
“Strip,” Fydelia ordered, poking the priest with her sword’s tip, drawing blood.
He scrambled to comply.
Odd hooked a thumb at the guards. “Avry, could you?”
I zapped them, and after Keidan stripped, I knocked him out, too. Odd handed the red robe to his man that hadn’t gotten cut. He donned it.
“You said there were more weapons?” Fydelia asked.
“Right this way.” Odd led.
We all followed him into the next hallway. Two barriers down, six more to go. They collected another dozen swords and with the three “priests” in the front, they tricked another set of doors open. A fight ensued, but I waited to use my knives. After subduing the guards, we picked up more swords. And my pack. The monkeys had stashed it with the weapons.
“It was in the crypt,” Loren said, gesturing. “We just managed to get it here after you pulled your little surprise on us.”
“You’re the best.” I blew him a kiss.
“Hey, what about me?” Quain asked.
“You’re second best, as always,” Loren said.
Quain drew breath to argue.
“Not the time for this, gentlemen,” Odd said.
Managing to get past two more barriers, we ran into bigger trouble at the sixth set of locked doors. We no longer had the element of surprise. No one answered our knocks. Shouts and screams echoed as guards arrived from other entrances, pinning us in.
A handful of armed women rushed to get between the guards and the unarmed penitents, forming two lines of defense on both sides of us. From here on out, we’d have to keep these lines so the others behind us could escape without harm. Quain yanked his lock picks from his pocket and knelt by the door.
Just as he popped the lock, it burst open, knocking him back. The guards who pushed through spotted the red robes and paused for a moment in confusion. It was all Odd and Fydelia needed. They pounced. More defenders waited on the other side of the doors and, even though a few of them moved as if drugged, it was a struggle to fight our way into the next hallway.
The number of guards increased as we broke through the seventh barrier. But the women would not be stopped. Determined, driven, and fierce, they filled the narrow space, sweeping away the opposition like raging flood waters.
Keeping Melina close, I stayed right behind Odd and the monkeys. The last set of doors led to the outside. And blocking our path to freedom were a dozen priests. Alert and prepared for battle with a long swords in each hand, they waited for us.
I wiped sweat from my face. Tired from using my powers, I blinked at the final obstacle, calculating our odds. I tucked Melina behind me. At least Jael wasn’t among them.
“Oh, hell, no,” Fydelia said. “They’re not stopping us.” She raised her bloody sword into the air. “For the girls!”
Repeated and shouted over and over, the cry rippled along the women. Time to get out of the way. I flattened my body against the wall, pushing Melina with my arm to do the same.
The women surged forward, intent on their targets. Steel clanged on steel, guttural growls mixed with higher-pitched shouts as they engaged in a fierce battle. No chance for me to dash and zap. This melee was primal. A desperate fight for survival. And their sheer numbers gave the women the advantage.
Odd and the monkeys stood in the thick of things. I gripped Melina’s hand, unable to tear my gaze away as an ache grew in my chest. Stabbed and sliced, women either stumbled back or collapsed in a heap. Others dragged them from harm then took their place.
Palming one of my knives, I aimed with care. Unexpected in the midst of the fight, my blade pierced a shoulder. The wounded priest lost his momentum and Quain pressed his advantage. With one quick strike, he buried his sword into his opponent’s stomach.
A queasy slush coated my throat. While I hadn’t made the killing blow, my actions had resulted in the man’s death. As a healer, it violated my purpose in life. As a penitent, it was a necessary evil.
Keeping the image of two thousand women on their knees in my mind, I aimed again. Odd and the monkeys battled their way to the doors with an impressive amount of skill. While Quain worked on the locks, the others protected him. I threw my remaining knives, helping them.
It seemed Quain moved in slow motion. Unable to just stand there any longer, I joined those assisting the casualties. Melina followed. More than a dozen had been injured. Blood splattered their robes, matted their hair, and dripped from cuts. I checked each one. A couple had already died. And a few would soon—their injuries fatal. And one young lady teetered on the borderline. The slight woman had been stabbed in the ribs and had a punctured lung. I could assume her injuries. But should I?
I glanced at Melina. She ripped strips of cloth from the bottom of her robe, making bandages. Mom would be proud.
A loud bang then a crack sounded. The fighters flinched, but when the fresh air swept in, erasing the odors of sweat and blood, it recharged the penitents. They doubled their efforts and the remaining warriors fell.
“Quick, this way,” Loren ordered.
They streamed out into the dark street with Quain in the lead. For each wounded lady, two friends supported her. Careful of her ribs, I pulled the borderline patient over my shoulder. Small and thin, she weighed almost nothing.
By the time I reached the street, Flea and Ives had joined Quain. The women pooled around them, drawing unwanted attention. I caught up to them.
“What are you waiting for?” I demanded.
“We’re trying to figure out another route through the tunnels,” Ives said. “With this many people, the one we lit will draw too much attention.”
“Stick with your original route. Staying hidden is no longer a priority.”
“We should make sure they all escape,” Quain said.
“They need to follow the lanterns. We set them this afternoon,” Flea said.
“Ives and Flea, take point,” I ordered. “Keep Melina with you. Odd, you and the monkeys stay with Fydelia and her team to ensure we assist as many women as possible.”
Melina protested, but I cut her off. “Go with Flea. I’ll catch up.”
“What about...?” She gestured to the injured girl.
“I’ve got her. Now go.”
They took off at a run and the women followed. I moved slower. But I encouraged those streaming past me to keep going. Turning left, we traveled through an alley for a couple blocks before entering the underground aqueducts. I gagged on the rotten smell. The splashing sound of hundreds of pairs of bare feet in the cold wet muck echoed throughout the stone tunnel. The noise alone would call every guard and priest down on us. The lanterns were spaced far enough apart to create little pockets of darkness, but close enough that those pockets only happened in straightaways.
Eventually, I was the last in line. Or so I thought. Footsteps splashed behind me, and I turned to ask for help as the girl had grown too heavy for me. And just when I’d thought we’d avoided Jael, there she stood, wearing a penitent’s robe and holding a sword. Her fury pressed on me like a wet blanke
t. Or was that her magic? This wasn’t going to end well.
“Side tunnel, now,” Jael ordered, indicating a left branch.
I headed into the tunnel, walking until the light dimmed.
“Keep going,” Jael said.
I pushed deeper into the darkness until ordered to stop.
“Put the girl down.”
Setting the girl on the ground, I knelt next to her. Her breath rasped in painful gulps. There was just enough light to see fresh blood had soaked her robe.
I turned to Jael. “I need to heal her.”
“No you don’t.” Jael stepped closer. “You need to stop interfering, to stop ruining all my plans. To just stop!”
“How did I—”
“These women were mine. I planned to rescue them and use them for my new army and you...you...” She sputtered with rage. “You. Need. To. Stop.”
I braced for Jael to suck my breath from my lungs or use the air to smash me against the stone walls. But she ran straight at me. I jerked in surprise right before the blade of her sword pierced my chest just below my right breast.
Pain exploded as my ribs broke. Air whooshed from my right lung. After she yanked the blade out, I collapsed to my knees, sucking in air laced with tiny needles. Fire burned around my heart. I keeled over on my left side.
Jael leaned over me. “That should stop you.”
And this time, I agreed with her.
KERRICK
Kerrick had to keep the smugglers from entering the aqueducts. Concentrating, he encouraged the bushes to thicken around the five smugglers’ legs, impeding their forward motion so the vines had time to wind around their ankles. Because it was the middle of autumn, he needed to use his magic to spur the sluggish vegetation.
“What the...” Jack swore.
“The vines!” Princess dropped her barrel and yanked her sword out.
Kerrick increased his efforts, hoping to trap them before they could cut the vines.
“Just calm down,” Sylas said.
But his companions ignored him. Dumping the barrels, they thrashed and swung their swords.
“Death Lily,” the third man cried out. “Has to be—”
“Not possible,” Sylas said.
“You lying sack of— Eep.” A vine twisted around the other lady’s sword arm.
They fought and struggled, but the vines soon ensnared them. While they accused and blamed each other for their predicament, Kerrick leaned against a tree, panting from the exertion.
What now?
He listed his options. One—keep them immobilized until Avry arrived. It’d work for a day, maybe two, but after that it would be cruel.
Two—the forest could transport them away from the entrance and then release them. But what would stop them from returning with more armed men and cutting a path? Nothing.
Three—scare them away. How? Every citizen of Ozero Realm was terrified of the priests and acolytes. Perhaps he could... No. If they’d been caught by priests they’d be arrested, not warned off. What about a rival gang? He huffed in amusement. A gang of two—him and Hux—real scary. And yet... Something snagged in his mind. A ghost of the forest. That wouldn’t quite work. But when combined with Quain’s weed boy...
A silly idea popped in his head. He almost dismissed it, but, upon deeper inspection, it might just work if he could pull it off with a straight face. If the monkeys ever found out, he’d never hear the end of it. Best to ensure they didn’t find out.
Kerrick mounted Huxley. The contact transformed the horse’s hide into the colors of the forest. Signaling Hux into a quiet walk, he headed back to the trapped smugglers. Before they reached them, Kerrick stopped Hux and invited the vines to spiral up Hux’s legs. The horse cocked his ear back and turned his head to peer at Kerrick with his left eye, questioning.
Kerrick patted him on the neck. “It’s okay,” he whispered.
The easygoing horse seemed satisfied and stood still while the vines wrapped around them both. Weed Boy, the ghost of the forest was ready to make a grand entrance.
Moving at a slow pace to accommodate the vines, Kerrick and Hux stepped into view. The smugglers’ bickering ceased the moment they noticed him.
With a booming voice, Kerrick asked, “Who dares enter my forest?”
They stared at him for a moment. He hoped they saw a giant leaf creature.
“Uh,” Jack said. “This isn’t your—”
“Silence!” Kerrick raised his arm.
The vines holding Jack gagged him, muffling his cries of distress.
“Anyone else care to correct me?” Kerrick asked.
The rest remained quiet.
“Good. You must leave my forest and never return. Or...” Kerrick urged the vines to tighten around the captives, making it hard for them to breathe. When he was certain they’d gotten the point, he eased the pressure. “Understand?”
They nodded. Even Jack.
“Good. Now be gone!” He swept his arm dramatically—the monkeys would be giggling by now.
The vines dragged the smugglers along the forest floor. Kerrick and Hux followed. When they reached the main path, Kerrick had the vines release the smugglers.
They staggered to their feet and, without a backward glance, bolted down the path. Kerrick wondered if they’d warn their cohorts away, or if he’d have to deal with more intruders before Avry and the others arrived. He resigned himself to the fact that weed boy might be needed again.
He waited until the dust of the smugglers’ passage had settled, then allowed the vines to drop from him and Hux. The horse snorted as if commenting about the strange antics of humans. Kerrick didn’t disagree with him.
They returned to the campsite. Kerrick dismounted, landing on weak legs. While his connection to the living green remained a part of him, he struggled to manipulate the foliage. Unlike in early autumn, he now needed to draw power in order to use the forest. And each day it was a little bit harder.
Kerrick stretched out on his bedroll. Exhaustion pressed on him. Using his magic shouldn’t be this draining. It had depleted his energy before he sickened, but now it required double the effort. Why? He’d no idea. Too tired to puzzle out the logic, Kerrick rolled onto his side and fell asleep.
* * *
The next morning, Kerrick kept his vigil and stayed alert for potential problems while continuing to train Huxley. Each day he stayed busy to avoid sinking into dire speculation over why Avry hadn’t arrived yet.
By the eighth day, Kerrick had to admit something had gone wrong at the monastery. He’d promised to rescue Avry if she’d gotten caught. Now all he needed to figure out was how.
The main problem was his inability to leave the forest for long. But what if he took the forest with him? How? Would the vines stretch into the aqueducts? Probably, but not all the way into the city. What if he carried bushes with him? He’d need his hands. And Hux wouldn’t fit in the tunnel.
Remembering the wagon, Kerrick fetched it. He wove vines together and made small sheets. Then he dug up two bushes and, careful to pack the dirt around their roots, he wrapped the root ball in the sheet and tied it tight.
With the bushes in the wagon, Kerrick entered the aqueduct. He pulled the wagon behind him with one hand and held a torch with his other. Passing the end of the greenery, Kerrick felt the familiar pressure return. Damn. Kerrick used his magic to continue on. Soon after, he struggled to move forward until he reached the end of his invisible tether. The light from his torch illuminated numbers and let
ters that had been painted on the walls. An intersection was just a few feet away.
Bitterness pulsed as he debated his next move. If he depleted his strength now, he’d be useless. Kerrick needed a better idea. Retreating to the forest and Hux, he rested and mulled over the problem.
By the time he’d regained his energy, the sun had set. Not that it mattered in the dark tunnels, but he also hadn’t formulated a plan.
Kerrick huddled next to a small fire. Maybe he’d been rash to scare the smugglers off. He could have paid them to go into the city... And what? Find Flea and Ives? They were supposed to report back to him if something went wrong inside the monastery. Their absence meant they, too, encountered trouble. The smugglers wouldn’t break into the monastery for all the gold in his pocket; everyone in Ozero Realm was terrified of the priests.
Even though he had the entire forest at his command, he couldn’t do a damn thing to save Avry. Not without help. And who would help him? Not Ryne. Noak? If the tribesmen did travel south with his warriors to aid Ryne, perhaps Kerrick could intercept them. But when should Kerrick abandon his vigil? Tomorrow morning? No. The sooner the better.
Energized, Kerrick hopped to his feet and packed up his meager supplies. He spread the burning logs out and went to fetch water to douse the flames. As he scooped up dirty water, a faint rumble reached him. It emanated from the aqueduct. He approached the entrance and leaned in to listen.
The sound grew louder. Water rushing? Kerrick wondered if it was a good idea to be standing at this spot. Curiosity kept him in place. More splashing followed, and a drumming that echoed off the stone walls. When a voice cried out over the din, Kerrick yanked his sword free. A glow from a torch lit the interior and he backed up.
Friend or foe? He’d find out soon. Retreating to a better position, Kerrick waited.
From the amount of noise, Kerrick guessed at least a company of soldiers was racing toward the exit. It couldn’t be Avry and the others, they wouldn’t produce that much—
Flea and Ives burst from the aqueduct. Kerrick’s relief didn’t last long as more people streamed out. Were they being chased?
Taste of Darkness Page 22
