Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  He looked to her with a smile, the exhaustion on his face wiping away with the sight of her excitement. Warsgra wished he, too, were capable of making her that happy.

  Not waiting any longer, they rushed forward and dropped to their knees around the fallen fruit. Warsgra picked up one of the fruit that had already split open. Using his massive strength, he cracked the whole thing apart and handed one half to Dela. She sank her teeth into the juicy pink flesh, biting and slurping up the juices with no sign of self-consciousness. The second half he handed to Vehel. The Elvish prince had weakened himself by getting the fruit down to the ground, and he needed it more than Warsgra did.

  “If we put a hole in the shell of the whole ones,” Orergon said, “we can drink the liquid inside without any of it being wasted.”

  Warsgra nodded his agreement. “We need a stick. A good strong one we can use to puncture the outer shell.”

  “Eat something first,” the Moerian told him. “Keep your strength up.”

  He did as was suggested and broke a second of the fruit in half, giving the other one to Orergon.

  “Good spotting,” Warsgra told him. “We might not even have this if you hadn’t noticed it.”

  Orergon shrugged. “Someone else would have seen it.”

  “Maybe.”

  Warsgra sank his teeth into the crunchy, pink flesh of the Agu-Agu fruit. It was bliss to have sweetness and liquid on his tongue again, washing away the lingering eggy odor of the fire mountain. This was the best thing he’d tasted since they’d left the Fae village.

  With everyone busy eating, Warsgra wiped off his sticky chin and set about finding a stick to puncture one of the intact fruit. He dug around in the bushes, looking on the ground for one that might have fallen. Numerous small creatures darted away from him as he rooted around in the foliage. If there are little animals here, chances are there are bigger ones that feed on them as prey, too, he thought. They needed to be aware of that. He didn’t want any of them to become dinner.

  He found a stick and tested its strength against his palm. Yes, that would do. He carried it back to where the others were waiting. The frantic eating had eased off as bellies were filled, but they were still dehydrated and could use the liquid from inside the intact fruit.

  Warsgra selected one of the biggest fruit from off the ground then settled down with it clasped between his knees. He held the sharp end of the stick at the point where the fruit had been attached to the tree and pressed down. He wiggled and worked the stick, trying to find a balance between using too much force, and potentially breaking the stick, and still needing to puncture the fruit. He pushed a little harder, and there was a jolt as he made it through the harder outer layer. Then he worked carefully, puncturing the rest until he pushed into the middle where the liquid resided.

  Working just as carefully, he removed the stick again.

  “Dela, here,” he said, offering the fruit to her.

  She waved him away. “You did all the hard work, you have the first go.”

  He pushed it toward her again. “Not happening. Now open your mouth, and I’ll pour the liquid in.”

  She looked unsure, but he lifted up the fruit and tipped. If she didn’t open her mouth, she was going to end up with juice all over her face. Dela’s lips parted and she tilted her neck, ready for the watery juice inside. He tipped the fruit slowly, and the water flowed out of the hole and into her mouth. Dela gulped to keep up and then pushed him away.

  Juice dribbled down her neck, and she laughed and wiped it away.

  “Your turn next,” he told Vehel.

  Vehel cocked a silvery eyebrow at him. “I think I can hold my own fruit.”

  Warsgra rumbled laughter and handed it to him. “Sure you can.”

  He set to work opening a couple more, and then drank himself. He was already feeling better and knew the others were, too. The sugars had helped to give them strength, and the liquid had rehydrated them. They were strong enough now to carry on.

  Dela was on her feet, looking down at the remaining fruits. “Can we carry them?”

  Orergon frowned. “It’s a good idea, but they’re big and heavy. We’ll probably come across more on the way.”

  “And if we don’t, we’ll regret it,” she insisted.

  “We can create a sling to carry one of them in,” said Orergon, already removing a part of his leather top, revealing his brown shoulders, swirls of his tribal tattoos peeping through. “That will be easier than simply holding one in our arms.”

  Warsgra nodded. “Yes, that will work.”

  They picked up a couple of the remaining fruit, using pieces of their crusted clothing to create slings. None of them minded wearing a little less. Warsgra never wore much to begin with, but now Dela was down to only her vest and her leather pants, her smock used to carry one of the fruits. Vehel had left much of his outer wear with the Fae, which they’d exchanged in return for the ponies and supplies, so he added a second fruit to Dela’s smock, and they carried their bounty together.

  With the fruits slung between them and a new bounce in their step, they kept going. The trees began to thicken as they headed deeper into the jungle, and Warsgra wondered how far they’d need to go before they reached the ocean. Even though they’d caught glimpses of it from the fire mountain, right now the coast felt like a world away.

  A sudden crack of branches snapping came from up ahead, and, in unison, they all froze, their collective breath caught.

  They weren’t alone.

  Chapter Four

  Dela

  DELA FROZE, HER EARS straining. Her heart had kick-started in her chest, and now she could hear the beat thrumming in her ears. It had sounded as though something large had moved in the undergrowth ahead.

  “What was that?” she hissed at the others. She prayed it wouldn’t be another giant insect she’d have to battle with. She’d seen enough to last her a lifetime.

  Orergon lowered his voice. “It sounded big.”

  She flicked her gaze between each of the men. “Do you think anyone else might live out here? I mean, we came across the Fae in the middle of nowhere, so isn’t there a chance ...?”

  Orergon reached to his back, where his spear was slung across it. “Yes, there’s a chance, but this time they might not be so welcoming.”

  Taking his lead, Dela reached for her blade at her hip. If there was a chance they’d be attacked, she wanted to be ready. Both Warsgra and Vehel also readied themselves with their weapons, Warsgra removing the massive axe from his back, and Vehel drawing his bow and arrow.

  They stayed that way for a moment, instinctively moving in to protect each other’s backs. Dela’s breath caught in her lungs as she tried to listen for any other sounds that signaled they weren’t alone. Trouble was, the jungle was far from silent. Birds burst through the canopy overhead, crashing through leaves and branches, sending some fluttering to the ground. They hooted and tweeted and chirped to each other. On the ground, smaller animals darted through the undergrowth, sensing the four people near. Insects, of the usual size, buzzed around their heads, landing on skin and threatening to bite, so Dela was forced to slap them away. But there were no more big crashes. No more signs that they weren’t the only apex predator around.

  “What now?” Dela hissed. They couldn’t stay this way forever.

  “We keep going,” Warsgra said, “but stay alert.”

  Alert for what, though? Dela wanted to ask, but she kept her mouth shut. She knew they couldn’t answer her question any more than she was able to. This was new territory for all of them. She tightened her hand around the hilt of her knife as they set off again, following the same track through the trees. She’d use it if she had to. The others would fight to protect her, and she’d do the same for them. She wouldn’t stand around, expecting others to defend her if she wouldn’t do the same in return.

  “How far are we from the coast?” she asked after they’d walked awhile.

  Orergon looked over his shoulder at h
er. “Probably still another day on foot.”

  That meant they’d be spending another night out in the open. She supposed she might as well get used to it. It didn’t look as though things would change any time soon. They might reach the coast and discover they were nowhere near the island where the Seer was supposed to live, or they might even reach the island to discover no such person existed. Sleeping out in the open was going to be the least of her concerns.

  Something cracked through the undergrowth to their left.

  They all froze again, and Dela found herself standing in an attack position, her dagger held out, one foot in front of the other, leaning forward slightly in preparation of a thrust.

  “Is someone following us?” she hissed.

  It had certainly sounded like the same noise as before, though they must have covered another mile or so since they’d last heard it.

  Vehel frowned. “Do we keep going, or do we investigate?”

  Dela wasn’t sure she wanted to do either option, but she wasn’t going to look like a coward in front of the others. “I say we investigate.”

  Warsgra nodded. “Aye. There are four of us. We’re all strong, and we’re armed. If someone’s following us, they should be the ones who are frightened.”

  She looked between them. They each wore similar expressions of determination, with rigid jaws and thinned lips. She wished she was able to share their determination, but a volley of butterflies had taken flight in her stomach, and she was doing her best to stop her hand around the hilt of her dagger from shaking.

  They’d been following a path of sorts through the undergrowth, something created most likely by a trail of the creatures who called this place home. But now they needed to step off it. Warsgra led the way, with Vehel following. Dela went next, and Orergon brought up the rear.

  Brightly colored flowers in reds, yellows, purples, and oranges, stood out against the lush, dark green foliage. A giant millipede crossed their path, its hundreds of legs working together in a wave. The jungle was fragrant with the perfume of the array of flowers, the air thick and warm.

  They’d placed the fruit down on the trail, needing to move easily and quickly if attacked—something that was difficult to do with the large orbs swinging by their sides. Dela still had her stone, too, which she’d slipped inside the pocket of her pants. She wished she had somewhere else she could put it where she knew it would be safe, like how her brother’s ring was always around her neck, and she knew it was there because it was pressed close to her skin, but she kept checking, her hand slipping into her pocket to reassure herself.

  They moved as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert anyone to their presence. If someone was following them, they most likely knew where they were anyway, but it was still best to be cautious. Weapons were aimed, Vehel sweeping his bow and arrow across the area, ready to let loose if someone attacked.

  Sudden movement erupted on one side of them, and they all spun to face it. Then the same noise came again, but from behind them this time, so they twisted toward the new threat.

  Dela was breathing hard, her heart pounding.

  Had they made a mistake coming deeper into the jungle? Were they surrounded?

  She strained to see through the tangle of plants, and trees, and bushes. Was someone hiding? All she could see was foliage running deeper and thicker.

  Something slithered across the ground nearby, and Warsgra let out a yell of shock.

  Dela spun around, expecting to fight someone, but there was no one there. Yet Warsgra was hacking at the ground with his axe.

  “It’s the trees!” he yelled.

  Confused, she frowned. “What?”

  On the jungle floor, something whipped out toward her, like a snake through the undergrowth. More out of luck than judgment, she leaped out of its way. She blinked hard, trying to piece together what she was seeing. It was the root of a tree, moving as though with purpose, as though it knew they were there and was trying to get them.

  Warsgra yelled again, and was suddenly pulled off his feet.

  “Warsgra!” Dela yelled as he was dragged into the undergrowth.

  She looked to the others in horror. They were all waging battles of their own, each of them fighting against the jungle floor which had suddenly come alive with movement. Another root snaked out and hooked around her ankle. She bent to hack at it with her blade. Vehel had the least useful weapon with his bow and arrow, but she saw he was tapping into his magic, and a blue light emitted from his palm. When he held his hand above the root, it recoiled as though burned.

  “Help Warsgra!” she yelled to Vehel.

  He looked to her, his light blue eyes wild with worry. “My magic! It’s not strong enough yet!”

  By the Gods, they should never have used his magic to get those fruit down. She’d known it at the time, and yet she’d allowed herself to be persuaded. Now Warsgra was paying for the mistake.

  And as she looked up, she saw it wasn’t only the tree roots that were moving. The entire tree they belonged to had uprooted itself. Its branches reached down like giant arms, swiping against them, so they all ducked. But now it had hold of Warsgra, it rescinded its attack on the rest of them, and the roots withdrew, slithering back through the undergrowth. The entire tree got moving through the jungle, and it was taking Warsgra with it.

  “No, stop!” Dela yelled after it. Wildly, she cast a glance over her shoulder at the others. “What does it want with him?”

  Orergon winced. “You don’t think it feeds on flesh, do you? There are some plants that do that.”

  She stared at him in horror. “We need to get him back!”

  He held her gaze. “We will.”

  At least the tree was easy to follow. The size of it, together with the crashing it made, and the trail of destruction left in its wake, made it easier for them to chase after. Dela had no idea how they were going to cut Warsgra down when they reached him. Warsgra was a fierce fighter, and she tried to take some comfort in him having kept hold of his axe when he’d been taken. He’d fight like a warrior and would keep fighting until he was free. It was little reassurance as they followed in the wake of the tree, as it used its roots to stride across the jungle, destroying anything that lay in its path.

  What kind of manner of thing was this—was it a plant, or was it alive? It had followed them, she was sure, so did that mean it could think? Or was it working on instinct in the same way any other tree would push its roots down to find water, and lift its branches to the sky for sunlight?

  Dela didn’t know, but she knew they had to free Warsgra before the tree decided he was its next meal.

  Chapter Five

  Warsgra

  WHILE HE’D BEEN TRYING to hack one root off his leg, another had appeared and grabbed Warsgra’s other leg. On his back, he was dragged through the foliage. He managed to keep hold of his axe, but the speed at which he was being dragged made it impossible to fight back. It was all he could do to protect his face with his arms from the numerous branches whipping him. He bumped and skidded and slid across the jungle floor. Roots and stones and twigs and thorns jabbed him in the back as he was pulled, faster than he could get his bearings. The one thing he focused on was keeping hold of his axe, his fingers like iron around the handle. If he lost the axe, he’d be done for. At some point, this thing would need to stop, and the moment it did, he’d hack away at the root tangled tightly around his ankle.

  Warsgra wasn’t a man who relied on others, but he knew Orergon, Vehel, and Dela would come after him. He was determined to break free himself before they reached him. The last thing he wanted was for Dela to put herself in danger on his behalf. He was already kicking himself for leading them off the small trail they’d been following. Who knew how far this would take them from their original direction. Too deep in the jungle, it was hard to see the sky. Without being able to see the sky, it was impossible to navigate. People could find themselves wandering in circles this deep in the jungle, never finding their way out
again. He didn’t want Dela and the others to put themselves in that kind of jeopardy on his behalf. Besides, he was determined to free himself.

  The root, or whatever it was knotted around his ankle, continued to pull him. He wanted to use his axe to swipe out at it, but he didn’t want to risk either losing the axe as he swung it, or missing and hacking off his own foot. Branches lashed at his face as he continued to be dragged, and he yelled out and then sucked air in over his teeth in pain. He figured he’d be lucky to have any skin left on his back by the time they came to a rest. If he was about to be eaten by some kind of tree monster, however, he figured a little lost skin would be the least of his worries.

  Finally, the tree creature came to a halt, and Warsgra didn’t even take a moment to catch his breath. He sat up and swung the axe, ignoring the pain the movement caused, and the blade hit the tree root. The mighty axe half-severed the root, but the tree creature shrieked in a combination of pain and anger, and even as Warsgra lifted the axe once more to drive it back down on the same spot, numerous other roots slithered out of the undergrowth. The thick trunk of the tree, at least eight men in diameter, towered over him. He spotted the creature’s face, whirled knots of wood creating its eyes and slit in the grain for the gaping maw of its mouth. Surely it wasn’t possible for this thing to eat people? Warsgra didn’t like to think so, but he also didn’t want to risk finding out.

  But more roots lashed out at him, slipping around his ankles, calves, and thighs. He roared in anger and chopped with the axe, but, no faster could he cut, so more of the roots appeared. They went for his arms, sliding up his bare back, the roots cold and wet against his skin, to reach his shoulders. He had to ignore the ones on his legs now, knowing that if one of the roots tightened around his throat, he’d be a dead Norc. His heart thundered in his chest, and he tried not to give in to blind panic, knowing he needed the clarity of thought if he was to survive. He needed to fight as though he was in battle with many strong Norcs, and they were coming at him from every direction.