Taste of Darkness

by Maria V. Snyder

  “Nowhere is safe. Plus she wouldn’t leave without knowing what happened to Melina.”

  Ah, hell. Avry had a point. He considered their options and found a solution that would appease both Avry and Ryne.

  “I’ll go,” he said. “I’ll take Hux and be there in three days. If Mom’s still there, I’ll tell her about Melina and escort her here.” Kerrick glanced at Ryne. “I’ll also gather better information about where this Skeleton King is and how big his forces are.”

  Avry rounded on him. “Didn’t you just hear Ryne? He sent the bones of the last two scouts in a box.”

  “Those scouts weren’t forest mages,” he said. “You know I’ll be careful.”

  “What if he already invaded Mengels?” Loren asked.

  “Then I won’t go near the city. Mom’s inn is at the edge, but if it looks like it’s been commandeered, I’ll keep away.”

  Except Ryne, no one seemed overly pleased with his plan, but despite Avry’s outburst, no one else argued. It made sense. Ryne kept his face neutral, but Kerrick had known him long enough to recognize the subtle change in his demeanor. Between the addition of two thousand plus soldiers and Kerrick scouting for him again, renewed hope flared in Ryne’s eyes.

  Avry returned to her place next to him. She leaned on him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her close. The warm scent of vanilla filled his nose.

  She sighed. “I’d go with you, but I’d just slow you down. Besides...” Avry glanced at Ryne. “I’m needed here.”

  Again, Ryne impressed Kerrick by not showing his approval over Avry’s good sense. Or commenting on it. Instead, he stood. “I need to talk to Fydelia and determine how to best integrate her women into our forces. Kerrick, let me know if you need anything for your mission. Do you know when you’re leaving?”

  Avry stiffened. They both knew he should head out right away.

  “In an hour or so,” he hedged.

  Ryne nodded and returned to the infirmary. The monkeys lumbered to their feet, stretched, and yawned with jaw-popping exaggeration.

  “We’re beat,” Loren said.

  “Yeah, dog tired,” Quain agreed. “Time for bed. Come on, Flea.”

  “I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” Flea said.

  They peered at him, but then ambled off.

  Once they were gone, Flea shoved his stick deep into the fire and met Kerrick’s questioning gaze. “I’m going with you.”

  Avry drew a breath, but he squeezed her shoulder, warning her to keep quiet.

  “Why should I take you?” he asked.

  “I can help you when you can’t leave the forest. Like purchasing feed for Hux and blending in with the street rats to find out information. That’s how I survived before I met you, remember?” Flea inclined his head toward Avry. “And I’m not useful here. Besides, all these soldiers think I’m just a kid—even the caregivers. You never treated me that way.”

  Kerrick sensed there were more reasons, but he refrained from asking. Avry had said to be subtle with him. While it would be harder to scout with Flea along, he thought the young man had presented a valid argument. Plus Kerrick had a bad feeling he might need Flea’s energy. Every day it was harder to keep the relentless fatigue at bay.

  “All right. Go pack and be back here in one hour.”

  Flea jumped to his feet. “Yes, sir.” He dashed toward the infirmary.

  Bracing for Avry’s anger, Kerrick waited. The silence extended and he worried he’d upset her.

  Instead, she relaxed against him, snuggling in closer. “At first I thought it was a horrible and reckless idea to take Flea, but—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—he needs this. It’ll be good for him. And you’ll protect him.”

  She had such confidence in him, but Kerrick remembered failing Flea. He’d died under Kerrick’s care before. Only dumb luck had saved him. A Peace Lily and not a Death Lily had accepted Flea’s body, preserving it until Avry returned to awaken him.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Avry said, reading his mind. “Jael—”

  “Was after me.”

  “No, she was after us. All of us. She didn’t want Ryne healed and knew it would take all of us together to rescue him.” Avry pulled away and gazed up at him. “I think Flea will be good for you, too. I won’t have to worry about you as much.”

  Interesting. “Why not?”

  “You’ll be extracareful. And he’ll keep you from doing something dangerous or stupid.”

  He widened his eyes in mock horror. “Me? Do something dangerous? No way.”

  She laughed. The sound flowed through him like a warm brandy, igniting a fire in his heart.

  “I noticed you didn’t protest the stupid part,” she teased.

  “Ah, my love, I’m guilty on that one.”

  “Well, I can’t think of any examples right now.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her toward him. “I have one example of my stupidity.”

  “Do tell.”

  “I should have told Flea to come back in two hours.”

  * * *

  Huxley arrived at the same time as Flea. Kerrick marveled over the horse’s ability to sense when Kerrick needed him. After giving Avry another kiss goodbye, he slung his pack over his shoulder and mounted Hux. Flea hopped up behind him.

  He spurred Hux into a gallop, heading southwest toward Mengels. Just as he’d predicted, it took them three days to reach the outskirts of town. They hadn’t encountered any of Cellina’s patrols, but he sensed a few squads for the Skeleton King’s army. They also didn’t see any citizens once they crossed the border and entered Sectven Realm. Not a good sign.

  And his connection with the living green tugged at him, pulling him down even though he remained in the forest. He had noticed it before when it had dug its roots into him to save his life. He’d hoped it would dissipate after he rested. But it seemed more pronounced. Was it just another quirk of his bond with the living green, or something more dire?

  Could he be transforming into more a part of the forest? One with roots? Not a pleasant thought. Kerrick sighed. Not much he could do about it. Instead, he focused on the task at hand.

  From their vantage point in the woods to the east, Mengels appeared to be a ghost town.

  “It’s almost winter. Maybe they’re all inside,” Flea said in a hopeful tone.

  Kerrick just looked at Flea.

  “Yeah, well. It’s better than them all being captured or killed by the Skeleton King.”

  Pointing to the buildings, Kerrick said, “There are no signs of a fight. The windows are intact. No burned buildings. No scuffs in the dirt. No bloodstains. There’s another explanation.”

  “And that is?”

  “You tell me.”

  Flea huffed, but gazed at the town. One of the larger towns in Sectven, it had survived the brutal plague years almost intact, a rarity in the Fifteen Realms. Kerrick believed it was the cool heads of Mom and other town officials who had kept the population calm, plus the dedication of the surviving town watch who’d stayed at their posts even when friends and family died around them.

  “There’s no smoke coming out of the chimneys,” Flea said. “And there are no wheel tracks in the mud from yesterday’s rain. No sign of wagons or horses, either. They’ve left town.”

  “Very good. How long ago?”

  Flea drew in a deep breath. “There’s a slight odor from the chamber-pot dumps and no fresh horse droppings—just a few dusty-looking piles. A week, maybe two?”

  “Which one?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think about the past few days, Flea.”

  He dipped his head, letting the bangs cover his eyes. “If they’d left within a week, we’d have seen them because the only safe plac
e is east to Tobory Realm or northeast to Pomyt Realm. So two weeks.”

  “I concur. You’d make a good scout.”

  Flea stood a little straighter. His swiped the hair from his face, exposing a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “And trade in the luxurious life of a death magician? No, thank you.”

  “You’ve been hanging out with the monkeys too long.”

  “I consider them my mentors.”

  “No, no, no. I can think of a better mentor for you.”

  Suddenly wary, Flea crossed his arms over his chest. “Who? Avry?”

  “Oh, no. She’d smother you. I had someone else in mind.” Kerrick waited to see if Flea’d take the bait.

  “Who?”

  “My Great-Aunt Yasmin. She’d set you straight in no time.”

  Flea gaped at him. “Isn’t she, like, a hundred years old?”

  “She’s ninety, no, ninety-one by now. But don’t let her age fool you. Grown men are terrified of her.”

  “Uh-huh,” Flea said, catching on to the joke. “Nice one, Kerry.”

  Surprised and impressed that Flea knew Great-Aunt Yasmin’s nickname for him, he said, “Touché. Who told you?”

  “Belen. He told me to never use it or you’d pound me. You won’t, will you?”

  Kerrick laughed. “Back before the plague, I would have. Now I think it’s very foolish to fight over something as silly as a nickname.”

  “The stakes are a lot higher now,” Flea agreed.

  “Yes, and we should get back to the task at hand.” Kerrick sniffed the air. “I think there are a few citizens still in town.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “From the smell. After two weeks, the dumps wouldn’t be pungent and there’s a faint tang of lime which means someone is making sure the smell isn’t worse. Come on.” Kerrick retreated deeper into the forest.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The Lamp Post Inn is on the western side of town.”

  “Do you think Mom’s still there?” Flea hurried after him.

  “If she’s not, I’m sure she left a message for Melina.”

  Hux waited for them. They mounted and Kerrick urged Huxley into a gallop. The sun hung low in the sky and he didn’t want to lose the light.

  Taking Huxley almost to the edge of the forest, Kerrick stopped the horse when he spotted the red wood of Mom’s inn through the bare trees. He and Flea inched closer and studied the inn. The shutters were closed and no smoke curled above the roof. No lights gleamed under the door or through the slats. All seemed quiet.

  He signaled Flea. Since the forest almost grew to the inn, it didn’t tug as hard on Kerrick as they crept toward the back door. It was locked. Flea grasped his sword’s hilt and kept an eye out while Kerrick popped the lock. They entered the common area. Dust coated the bar, tabletops, and Mom’s teapot collection. No tablecloths or silverware in sight and only a pile of ashes remained in the hearth.

  Kerrick checked the kitchen while Flea searched the guest rooms upstairs. The oven was cold. No dirty dishes had been stacked in the sink. Food hadn’t been abandoned. Which meant they hadn’t left in a hurry.

  Returning to the common area, he joined Flea.

  “The rooms are empty,” Flea reported. “Beds are stripped and the lanterns are cold and without oil.”

  “Thoughts?”

  “They’re gone. But they had enough time to pack.”

  “I’d agree with you except for one thing.”

  “And that is?” Flea asked.

  “Mom’s teapot collection on the mantel. No way she’d leave without it.”

  “Maybe that’s the message for Melina.”

  “Excellent point. Check inside them.”

  Flea stood on the hearth and lifted the lid on each pot.

  “Be careful up there, dearie. Them’s my favorite pots,” Mom said.

  Kerrick spun. She stood behind him. Her white hair had been pulled up into a tidy bun and she wore a clean white apron over her full-length skirt.

  “Where did you come from?” he asked.

  An impish gleam lit her face. “Good evening to you, too, Mr. Kerrick.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” He pecked her cheek. “Good to see you well.”

  “And you and your young pup are a welcome sight. Have you got news for me?”

  “Yes.” He told her about Melina’s rescue.

  When he finished, she groped for a chair and sank into it.

  Worried, Kerrick knelt next to her. “Melina’s fine. She’s helping in the infirmary near Grzebien.”

  She shooed him away. “Don’t fuss over me. You’ve taken such a weight off my shoulders, my legs didn’t know how to handle it.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. Avry is the one who insisted.”

  “She’s a miracle that girl. She promised...” Tears spilled from Mom’s eyes. She dabbed at them with a corner of her apron. “She kept her promise.”

  “That’s Avry. She’s true to her word.”

  Mom drew in a deep breath and glanced around the inn. “Now I can leave.”

  “To catch up with the others?” Flea asked. He remained on the hearth, leaning against the bricks.

  “Oh, heavens, no. I’ll go help Melina and Avry. I’m sure those soldiers don’t know how to cook a decent meal.” She bustled to her feet. “Let me grab my bag of cooking pots and utensils.”

  “Uh, Mom?” Kerrick asked, stopping her. “Where is the rest of the town?”

  “Scattered. As soon as the Skeleton King crossed into Sectven Realm, they started the evacuations.”

  “Yet you stayed.”

  “Of course, dearie. I wasn’t going to leave until I heard from Melina. Besides, Mr. Belen still needed care.”

  CHAPTER 15

  After Kerrick and Flea left, I kept busy to keep from worrying about them so much. Ginger and Christina handled the few incoming injured soldiers, consulting with me on the serious cases. I concentrated on caring for the new plague victims. As I changed linens and emptied bedpans for the four men, I puzzled over a possible cure.

  Between the Healer’s Guild healers and my own knowledge of the nature of the disease, there was little left to discover. But still... A niggling sensation deep in my heart just wouldn’t quit. It reminded me of one of those wooden building sets my brother Criss used to assemble. Knowing he had all the pieces, he’d get so frustrated when he couldn’t get them all to fit. To make matters worse, our brother Allyn would sweep in half-distracted, glance at the incomplete structure and scattered pieces and point to the part Criss had been searching hours for.

  Our father had claimed Criss just needed to take a break and look at the project from a different angle. Perhaps I should apply that logic to the problem of curing the plague. I considered. Digging deep into memories, I recalled the conversation I’d had about the plague with Ryne and Kerrick before we’d rushed off to save Melina.

  We’d discussed Tohon’s involvement. He’d either created the plague or helped spread it. But that hadn’t been what had snagged my interest. The notion that Tohon had protected his classmates had been the real surprise. One I hadn’t followed up on due to Estrid’s defection.

  Maybe I shouldn’t focus on the victims, but on the survivors. How had Tohon protected them from the plague? And why did one-third of the population also survive? Did he protect them, too? Hard to rule a kingdom without subjects. But even harder to protect three million people.

  Perhaps it was something they ate or drank? That might explain Tohon’s classmates, but not the others. No family had survived intact. It stood to reason that a family would all eat the same food. Unless it was something with an unusual taste or odd flavor that most people didn’t like.

  The tanglefish from the Ronel Sea was considered a d
elicacy, but most people couldn’t get past the horrible smell to eat it. And most of those who loved the slimy stuff lived along the coast. Tastes in food were regional and the plague had spread evenly throughout the Fifteen Realms.

  I needed to talk to Ryne about what they ate and drank at their boarding-school reunion before I dismissed that hypothesis. Keeping with that line of thought, I considered perfumes and colognes. Distilled from flowers and plants, those were also very subjective—with some loving a certain scent while others were repelled by it. Perhaps Tohon had sprayed his classmates. Again this hypothesis wouldn’t go anywhere until I talked to Ryne. Good thing he hadn’t left for HQ yet.

  Ryne had commandeered a corner of the infirmary. He’d been organizing Fydelia’s lady warriors—Odd’s nickname for them—into smaller units based on their skills, and explaining his military strategies to them. The monkeys and Odd taught them how to go silent in the forest.

  I waited until Ryne was alone before approaching him around midafternoon. It was four days after Kerrick and Flea had left—two more days until they returned. Ryne hunched over a map that had been spread over a table. Red arrows and Xs marked the parchment. His posture reminded me of my brother Criss. Perhaps he needed to take a break and look at it from another angle, as well.

  “Do you have a minute?” I asked.

  He glanced up. “Sure.” Gesturing to a nearby stool, he tossed his stylus onto the table and sat down.

  Ryne no longer looked so haunted. But the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t disappeared. I suspected he’d need a month’s worth of sleep to recover fully.

  I explained my theory. “Can you tell me everything you did during that reunion, including what you ate and drank?”

  He stared at me a moment. “That was...ages ago. Another lifetime. I can’t even remember what I ate this morning.”

  “Start with anything unusual, especially when Tohon was around. What struck you as odd.”

  Ryne leaned back in his chair. “Tohon was civil to me. Considering how livid he’d been when the headmaster had announced the king for our class, I was surprised at his change in attitude. Tohon hadn’t been one to forgive and forget. But then I’d assumed he’d matured in the past year.”