Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  Vehel’s pale complexion had got some color over the last few days, and he no longer looked quite as sunburned. The tan made his white-blond hair and pale blue eyes stand out even more, and she kept glancing over at him as they walked.

  After a while, they were all forced away from the water and into the shade of the overhanging trees. They couldn’t keep walking in direct sunlight. They also needed to find more fresh water, but out here everything was tainted by salt. If they didn’t find anything soon, they’d be forced to head back into the jungle to find a fresh water source. In fact, she thought they might have to do so anyway. How long would they last out here with no water?

  They kept going. Walking on sand, Dela discovered, was far harder than walking on solid ground, and her calves threatened to cramp from the exertion and her dehydration, too.

  Up ahead, the beach gave way to a rocky face. Following the others, Dela clambered across it, mindful of the wet stone where it was slippery. It wasn’t a big fall to the water beneath, but she didn’t want to get hurt. They climbed, helping each other across, offering hands for support and guidance across the trickier parts. Though Warsgra hadn’t liked the ocean, he was used to this sort of terrain, and he looked as though he found it easier to navigate than the others, jumping from rock to rock, only stopping to help one of the others if they were struggling.

  As they rounded the headland, the waves became rougher, slapping against the rocks below them and sending salty spray across their skin and hair. Dela tasted salt on her tongue, but she didn’t mind the spray. The sun continued to beat down on them, and her bare shoulders grew hot under its rays. The sea water helped to cool her down.

  Eventually, they rounded the headland to find themselves on another beach, similar to the one they’d just left, only this one was more pebbles than sand. The water wasn’t quite as blue here either, growing grey in patches, the waves a little higher.

  Dela had been concentrating so hard on making sure she was putting her feet in the right places and not slipping on the rocks, that she’d forgotten why they were climbing over here in the first place. It was Orergon’s voice that made her glance up.

  “Look!”

  She turned her face to him. He was standing upright on the rocks, his long black hair swept back by the sea breeze, pointing out to sea. She followed the line of his finger, and her breath caught.

  There, out to sea, was a smaller blob of rocks and greenery.

  The island.

  “We found it,” she said, unbelieving. She realized at that moment that she hadn’t really thought they would. She’d thought they’d have just continued wandering these jungles and beaches together, and a small part of her would have been content to do just that. The four of them, together, with no outside interference from the rest of the world.

  Vehel grinned and nodded. “I knew it would be here.”

  He clearly hadn’t shared her doubts.

  The island didn’t look a huge distance away. It was close enough that she was able to make out a rocky shore, and some of the trees surrounding it. The center of the island rose in a granite peak, and more foliage covered its sides. But they still had an expanse of water between them and the island, and though the waves didn’t look massive from where they were standing on shore, she guessed they’d be a lot larger when they were on top of them.

  Dela climbed the final rocks down onto the beach, and then stood with her hands on her hips, staring out to the island. “It’s great that we’ve found it, but how are we going to get over there? We can’t swim that distance. Apart from it being a long way, we don’t know what kind of creatures are in the water. I don’t want to get eaten along the way, and I’m guessing none of you do either.”

  Warsgra chewed on his lower lip. “Becoming fish food isn’t high on my list of things to do.”

  “We need to build a raft.” Vehel glanced over his shoulder to the jungle behind. “There’s plenty of wood available, and we can find vines to knot the wood together. That will get us across.”

  Orergon frowned. “That’s going to take time, and we don’t have any resources here. We’re going to need food and water—but particularly water.”

  Dela nodded. “You’re right. It feels like forever since we found the last pool.”

  “What about if the two of us go in search of water,” he suggested, “and the other two start building? Vehel is the expert on raft building, so it would make sense for him to stay. Warsgra’s the strongest, so his strength would be needed to haul down the tree trunks.”

  Nerves fluttered inside her belly. “You mean separate?”

  He nodded. “I’m the best at tracking. It doesn’t make any sense for all of us to go back into the jungle.”

  Was he using this as an excuse to get her alone after the previous night? She wasn’t sure, and a horrified little part of her realized she wasn’t certain if she could completely trust Orergon after what he’d said. Did he really have a darkness inside him? And if he did, what if this was the darkness talking now?

  “I ... I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of us separating. What if something happens?”

  Orergon shrugged. “We’ll be fine. I’m sure we won’t need to go far.”

  She looked to Vehel. “No chance you could magic up a rainstorm or something?”

  He gave a wry smile and pushed his hand through his hair while shaking his head. “Sorry.”

  She returned his smile. “It was worth asking.”

  Dela didn’t like feeling this way. Orergon had never given her any reason not to trust him. He’d brought her miles and supported her every step of the way. She didn’t need to be nervous around him now.

  “If we’re going to stand any chance of making progress before nightfall, we should go now.”

  Orergon was right. She didn’t want to spend a night with no food or water. They’d find it far harder to search the following day if they were even more weak and dehydrated. Even so, she regretted not mentioning anything to Vehel now. Perhaps she should before they left, so if they were delayed for any reason, the others would have the full picture.

  She took a step toward Vehel. “Vehel, can I just—”

  “We should make a move, Dela,” Orergon said.

  She fixed a smile. “Sure.”

  Dela joined Orergon’s side, and they turned back to the jungle, leaving Warsgra and Vehel behind on the beach.

  Chapter Seven

  Vehel

  VEHEL WATCHED DELA and Orergon’s retreating backs. He didn’t like that they were separating either, especially being separated from Dela, but Orergon was right. They wouldn’t get far without water, and while they currently had an expanse of water at their feet, none of it was drinkable.

  Had Dela been trying to ask him something before she’d left? He’d got the impression she was, but then Orergon interrupted them. If it had been anything important, he was sure she would have just gone ahead and asked it. Dela had never had a problem in saying what she thought before.

  “Right.” Warsgra put his hands on his hips. “Where do we start?”

  Vehel forced his mind away from Dela to concentrate on what they were doing. “You see the plant growing out of the ground over there?”

  He nodded. “Looks like big poles with leaves coming off it.”

  “That’s the one. We need them pulled out of the ground, and the leaves stripped off. I’ll go a little deeper and find some vines to bind them together.”

  “Got it.”

  Vehel hid a smile at the Norc’s agreeability. It hadn’t been so long since a Norc wouldn’t even want to be breathing the same air as the Elvish, never mind taking orders from one. Warsgra had softened over the past week—though Vehel would never say so to his face—and he knew it had to do with Dela.

  Vehel left the beach to follow in Dela and Orergon’s wake, though he doubted he’d need to go too far from the beach. He looked up as he walked, peering into the low hanging branches of the surrounding trees. Moss covered this si
de of the tree trunks, and ferns sprouted from their bases, the leaves curled fingers, beckoning to him.

  He was so focused on looking up that he almost didn’t notice the movement on the ground in front of him before it was too late. He glanced down to find a line of giant ants walking in a procession at his feet. Each ant was easily the size of his fist, but he was relieved they each carried a large piece of torn leaf on their backs. Luckily, unlike the Hunter fly that had taken Dela, it appeared as though these creatures lived off foliage rather than people.

  Vehel allowed the trail of insects to pass, and then continued himself. From the branches above him hung what he was looking for, swathes of thick vines strung like banners at one of his father’s castle parties. He wondered if he would even see another of them happening—not that he’d enjoyed them, anyway. It was just lots of standing at his father’s side, while his father greeted people. His brothers were often away on exciting excursions, while he was left home like he was a daughter they’d never quite been able to marry off. He found the whole thing humiliating, and he was glad to be out of it.

  Shaking off memories of home, Vehel got to work, pulling the vines down from where they hung. Things tickled his skin and landed on his head, but he just shook them off and tried not to think about what he might be disturbing. He hauled the vines down, one after the other, slinging them across his shoulder as he tore them free.

  A noise came crashing through the jungle toward him, twigs breaking, leaves rustling. And by the sound, whatever was coming was large. His stomach contracted and his pulse quickened. He prayed it wasn’t another one of those damned trees. The thing grew closer, the crashing louder. He was right in its path.

  Movement suddenly broke through the bushes nearby. Vehel leaped into the air, caught hold of the nearest branch and pulled himself up.

  The creature was a hoofed animal, with grey hide, and a long nose, which it had lowered to the ground. The beast didn’t seem to notice him hanging from the branch, focused more on something on the jungle floor. The animal caught the end of the procession of ants, and, with its long nose, sucked up the last straggler. It moved onto the next, taking each of the insects in line.

  Vehel stayed put, his breath held, not wanting the animal to notice him. While it looked as though the creature fed on ants, he wasn’t going to risk taking the chance. Even if the animal didn’t want to eat him, it might try to knock him down and trample on him. It was far bigger and heavier than Vehel, and he wouldn’t be any good to anyone with crushed ribs and broken limbs.

  Finally, the animal trundled away, sucking up giant ants as it went, and Vehel exhaled a sigh of relief and carefully lowered himself to the ground. The vines he’d already pulled down were still slung around his shoulder, so, with caution, he made his way back to the beach. He hoped Warsgra hadn’t encountered any problems while he’d been gone.

  He broke through the remaining foliage and stepped onto the shore. Warsgra was where he’d left him, but now, on the ground at his side, were five or six of the poles, already stripped of their leaves.

  “You did a good job,” he called out as he approached.

  Warsgra turned to him, swinging his long wavy hair out of his face. Sweat shone off the muscles of the big man’s chest, and his hair was wet with perspiration.

  “Let’s hope Dela and Orergon find water quickly. You’re going to need it if you keep going at that rate.”

  Warsgra nodded. “Aye, I could do with a drink. I don’t like this heat much. Give me mountains any day.”

  “I know what you mean.” The Inverlands were cooler climes too, with the end of the Great Dividing Range creeping into their homeland. From Vehel’s coloring, it was easy to see he wasn’t made for this kind of heat.

  “Any sign of Dela and Orergon yet?” he asked.

  “No, but they haven’t been gone long.”

  Warsgra was right, they hadn’t, but that didn’t stop Vehel worrying.

  He dumped the vines on the ground and joined Warsgra in uprooting the plants they were going to use as building material and stripping off the leaves. Within an hour, they’d added another six to the pile Warsgra had already collected.

  Vehel looked down at their loot. “That should do.”

  The poles were big and strong, and hollow, which would help them float. As long as they were all bound well enough together to prevent the waves pulling them apart, the raft would get them to the island.

  “We’re going to need four paddles as well,” he said. “With no sail, it’ll be our only way of making sure we’re going in the right direction.”

  Warsgra let out a huff of air. “Let’s get the raft together first and then we’ll worry about how we’re going to steer it.”

  “Sure.”

  They got to work, stripping the remaining leaves and then putting the poles in position—most of them side by side, while a couple rested on top in the opposite direction. They wound the vines around each point where one pole overlaid the other to bind them all together.

  “You think Orergon’s okay?” Vehel asked, suddenly unable to keep it in any longer. Warsgra wasn’t exactly the sort of guy he’d normally choose to have a heart-to-heart with, but he needed to speak his fears out loud.

  “What do you mean?” Warsgra frowned and straightened from his work. “He seems healthy enough.”

  “He does,” Vehel agreed, “but it’s not all about how he is physically. He died, and I brought him back, but he hasn’t even mentioned it. What did he see on the other side? Does he remember any of it? Don’t you think it’s strange that he doesn’t want to talk about it?”

  Warsgra snorted. “Not everyone wants to talk about stuff.”

  “But nothing about his behavior seems different?”

  “No. Orergon doesn’t talk about much like that. He barely even mentions back home.” Warsgra frowned. “You think Dela is all right with him?”

  “I’m sure she is. Orergon feels the same way about her as we do.”

  Warsgra’s lips thinned. “I heard them talking last night.”

  Vehel lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “You did?”

  “I was half asleep, but they were definitely murmuring to each other.”

  “So maybe he’s just in love with Dela.”

  Warsgra grinned and threw Vehel a wink. “Like the rest of us, right?”

  Heat coursed up Vehel’s throat and flooded his face, and he glanced away, focusing on the task at hand.

  Warsgra was right. They probably all were a little bit in love with her, and he hoped she felt the same way about them. But then how, by the Gods, was that supposed to work? He thought to his homeland, and imagined going home to tell his father he was in love with a human girl, and not only that, but he was sharing her with a Moerian and a Norc. His father would most likely laugh, at first, thinking him to be joking, but then he would be furious. News would spread across the Inverlands, and he’d be ridiculed even more than he currently was. His father would tell him that if he insisted on staying with the girl, then he would disown him, and so would the rest of the Elvish. He’d be an outcast from his own people.

  A wave of dizziness washed over him as he suddenly realized he was predicting his own future. If he survived to make it back to his homeland, that most likely would be exactly what would happen, and that wasn’t even taking into account how it would also be known that he was the one who broke the Treaty and started the Second Great War.

  But somehow the significance of the war paled in comparison to a future without Dela. Forced to choose, which way would he go? What would win?

  His heart, or his loyalty to his own kind?

  Chapter Eight

  Dela

  IT FELT AS THOUGH THEY’D been walking forever, though she knew in reality only an hour or so had passed.

  She was nervous they wouldn’t be able to find their way back again, but Orergon insisted he’d found a trail, and they’d come across fresh water soon. The jungle air was thick and humid, and it didn’t h
elp with her dehydration. As well as tired muscles, another headache was forming between her eyes.

  “Are you sure we’re going to find our way back again?” she called out to him as she picked her way through the jungle.

  “Of course. I haven’t got you lost yet, have I?” He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled, and she felt like she had a little bit of the old Orergon back.

  “No, I’m just worried about the others. It feels like we’ve been gone too long.”

  “We’re almost there. Look at how the ground has changed. It’s already damp, and I can smell it on the air, too.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how you can smell water.”

  He laughed. “It’s easy. Can’t you?”

  “No. The only water we ever smelled at home was what came out of a communal tap in the street, and that didn’t smell so great.”

  The same laugh came again, and a small part of her relaxed. They continued to walk, Dela following Orergon’s smooth, brown back, his loose hair swinging as he walked, hiding the tribal tattoos that covered his skin.

  Orergon suddenly paused and lifted a finger. “Listen.”

  She frowned. “What is it?”

  “I can hear water running. This way.”

  He set off again, and she followed. The foliage became thicker and larger, and within minutes they stepped out onto the side of a small brook. It was barely a couple of feet wide, but it looked clear and cool, and it was all they needed.

  “Oh, well done, Orergon,” she said in delight.

  Dela dropped to her knees beside the brook and washed off her hands and face before scooping handfuls of the water to her mouth. She gulped it down, easing her parched throat. Orergon did the same beside her, and they both drank their fill before sitting back on their haunches and exhaling a joint sigh of satisfied relief.