by K. T. Webb
The canthion dispatched the wild board with little effort. The young animal’s first kill had been to protect Rowan. The beast lay bleeding at the edge of the path, Rowan lay panting in the dirt, and the canthion turned toward Honor.
Chapter 5
Honor stood staring into the eyes of the young canthion. As soon as it dispatched of the wild boar, it had turned to face her. The scene played out exactly as it had in her visions.
“Honor?” Rowan whispered from the ground.
“Honor.”
The voice came from nowhere, but her name was spoken at exactly the same moment the canthion released an earth-shaking roar. Before she could react, the animal bounded to the nearest tree. It turned to look at her once more before ascending out of her sight. Chills ran through her entire body, shaking her violently. The guttural voice could not have come from the canthion, could it?
“Honor? Are you okay?” Rowan had risen to his feet. He was gripping his side, gasping for air. He approached her with caution as though afraid she may attack.
“I thought I heard . . . no, that’s not possible,” Honor mumbled.
“Come on, let’s get back to camp. I’d suggest bringing that creature, but it is half-starved and would not provide enough meat to feed our family.”
His fingers laced through hers once again. Rowan gently tugged her down the path until her brain told her feet to keep walking. Honor let her mind wander to the strange and miraculous things that had happened in the course of a day. None of it felt real. Perhaps she was still in the midst of her visions and would wake to discover a different mark. She shook her head. That did not make sense either.
“I wonder why that canthion did not attack. Seems odd. It killed the boar but paid me no mind,” Rowan mused.
“I have been wondering the same thing. I know you are going to think I am crazy, but I could have sworn it said my name.”
Honor could feel Rowan giving her a sidelong glance. Obviously, he did not hear what she had heard, though she was not sure if that meant she had not heard it, or that it was only meant for her ears.
“I told you it sounded crazy.”
Rowan gave her hand a squeeze. “It does not sound crazy. But it could be you are not thinking clearly right now. It was a long night. You need some sleep. I think you’ll feel better after you rest.”
Honor nodded; her mind still occupied with thoughts she did not care to share. The mark on her side began to itch. She could not wait to remove the corset and slip into something more comfortable.
As they rounded the last curve of the trail, the billowing edge of her tent peaked over the horizon. There had never been a more welcoming sight. She could practically feel her body shutting down in preparation for sleep.
People milled about, children played, a delicious smell wafted toward them from the outside kitchen. She was home. The thought of home sent a sudden twinge through her chest. Somewhere deep inside, she knew she would not be staying long; but it did not make it feel any less like home. If she was to believe the visions would come true, she had to face the very real possibility that everyone would soon be slaughtered by an unknown force. Despite her earlier plans to tell Gary and Rowan about the possible danger they faced, she knew it was not an option if she wanted to truly follow her destiny. It made her wonder how many people had to live each day waiting for disaster to strike. The weight of the secrets she was now forced to carry left her feeling far more exhausted. Rowan felt her steps falter. He turned her to face him before they entered camp.
“Honor, I hope you know that things have changed for us. I know neither of us can say much about our visions, nor can we see each other’s marks until or, I mean, unless we are truly joined as one. But I also need to tell you I know this is not where we will fulfill our destinies. Our days are numbered here.” Rowan kissed her forehead.
“It would be easier if we were allowed to tell each other everything,” she whispered with her head still pressed against his lips. She had not missed the gravity of his words. If they married, they would have no secrets between them. To Honor, it did not matter if they were joined together in marriage; she trusted him with her life, of course she trusted him with her destiny.
“One day, we will.”
Rowan’s words blossomed deep in her belly.
He gently lifted her chin with one finger as he leaned close. Another soft, slow kiss enveloped Honor’s every thought. She wanted nothing more than to forget whatever obligations they both had to the world and stay right where they were. The thought struck her as odd. Just hours before, she had been terrified that her future would include only the life she now wished she could have.
Honor sighed deeply before taking the lead, bringing them the rest of the way into the encampment. The first person they saw was Gray. He glanced at the hands they still had woven together, and his expression changed from recognition to elation.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” Gray smirked. “Looks like you’ve both decided to stop being so stubborn.”
Rowan gently released her hand to place his arm around her shoulders. “Listen, it is been a long night. Honor needs to get some rest. Could you hold off on the jokes until she has gotten sleep?”
Gray held both hands up in defeat, “Fine, anything you say, Son.”
“Oh, and Dad? We had another run in with a canthion. Two run-ins, in fact.”
Honor stiffened at the implication of sharing that information. “We can talk about it more once I have rested, but I do not know we have anything to fear from this one. I cannot explain it, but it is almost like I know him,” she offered.
Gray furrowed his brow and looked directly at Honor. “I have never heard of anything like that. What do your instincts say?”
Honor looked him straight in the eyes, “It saved our lives. He saved Rowan from a hunger-crazed wild boar. Then simply retreated to the treetops.”
“Interesting. Well, we’ll be sure to keep a close lookout either way. Go get some rest, sweetheart. We’ll wake you for dinner.” Gray waved them on their way.
Rowan walked her to her tent and made sure she was feeling okay before he left. Honor could not help but feel a little irritated. There was no way she was going to let him walk around thinking she needed him to watch out for her all the time. Honor hesitated at the tent opening, wondering if Rowan was still nearby. If he was still out there, she could set him straight. One glance at her cot reminded her that a minor irritation could wait while she took a much-needed nap.
First, she set about changing into something less constricting. Once she was comfortable, she tied her hair back in a braid with deft fingers. It could not have been too much before midday, but a meal was the farthest thing from her mind as she drifted off to sleep.
In her dreams, she revisited the brief visions of the night before. Now, she saw them through the eyes of a girl who knew the mark on her side spoke of grim things to come. The part she most wanted to relive was the memory of her last moments with her mother. What had she said to her that may help guide her? What was her mother so afraid of when she returned to Milltown? Would her journey take her to meet her father? Instead of seeing the mother she missed so desperately, her mind took her to the moment in the woods when she locked eyes with the canthion.
The intellect in his eyes spoke volumes to Honor. Could there be more to the creatures than anyone knew? In her dream, the animal clearly spoke her name.
“Honor. There is much to learn, but you must be prepared. You haven’t much time. The winds of change are blowing through Alderwood. The Gildi have awakened.”
“What does that mean?” Honor understood the words he was saying but could not make sense of them.
The canthion did not offer any further explanation, he simply turned and climbed the nearest tree. Honor was left standing on the wooded path. Rowan was there as he had been in her vision earlier that day, but this time, it was as though he was frozen in time. The world stood still around Honor.
“He
llo? Are you still there? Is anyone there?”
No answer came. Frustration welled inside her. Rowan’s words came back to her in the dream. They would not be staying in the woods. The canthion had warned of changes blowing through Alderwood. What if the attack on their encampment was real? What could she do to prevent the deaths of so many innocent people? Or worse, what if she was supposed to let it happen?
Honor woke to find herself drenched in sweat. She had no idea how long she had slept, but the angle of the sun shining through the linen roof told her it was likely nearing twilight. With a start, she wondered if the next part of her vision had come to pass. Honor stumbled out of bed, feeling the pull in her side where her mark had been carved. She burst through the flaps of her tent, terrified of what she may find on the other side.
Relief sank into her bones at the sight of children playing near the creek, Maris stirring a large pot, Gray pointing to the tree line while Ash tried to keep up. Everything was as it should be. Her heart swelled as Rowan entered her view. He offered her a face-splitting grin as he helped Maris chop vegetables. Honor began walking in his direction, only to feel her legs grow heavy and her head begin to spin. The smile Rowan had waiting for her quickly turned to concern; then he was yelling her name as the world went black.
“We’ve got to take her to the practitioner. She may be having a reaction to the mark.” Maris’ voice floated through her mind.
“She is burning up, if we do not bring the fever down, she will not make it to Milltown,” Saige hissed.
Honor wanted to reply, she wanted to tell them that she had undressed the mark to take a peek. But she could not be the only person to ever be curious enough to peek early, could she? Her head throbbed and her side ached.
“Should we look at the mark? See if that’s what’s causing her illness?” Saige asked.
“I will look at the mark. The fewer who see it, the better,” Maris replied.
Honor curled into herself, trying desperately to stop anyone from seeing the darkness her mark represented. No one, not even Maris, should know the mark she bore was already partially colored. Honor did not know much about the marks others received, but she knew it was not supposed to look like that. Her attempts to keep Maris away must have been feeble because she felt the dressing being undone.
“Hold still, dear one.” Maris whispered in her most soothing tone.
With no fight left in her, Honor obeyed. It was as though she was watching the scene unfold from outside her own body. In her fevered mind, she saw Maris gently uncovering the mark.
“Oh, Honor.” A voice heavy with concern came from the woman. “You never have been one for rules, have you?”
A pitiful moan was all she managed in response. Maris carefully applied a warm cloth to her side, pressing slightly to remove whatever should not be there. Once the rag was applied again, Honor knew the herbal paste was gone and her mark would be fully exposed.
“That’s strange . . . hmmm . . . well, I wonder . . .”
Either Maris was not speaking in full sentences or Honor was fading in and out of consciousness.
Her side burned and itched. The longer it was exposed to the open air, the more Honor shook. Her body temperature was swinging like a pendulum. She desperately tried to find warmth, then could not shed layers fast enough to cool herself.
“Mother? How is she?” Rowan’s voice sent panic coursing through her veins.
She could not let him see her mark. Maris would keep him out, she had to. Blankets were gently tucked up around her shoulders, keeping her wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. Above the chatter of teeth, Honor heard Maris moving within the tent.
“Rowan, she has got a terrible infection. She must have taken the dressing off at some point. You need to get the practitioner, bring her here. Honor is too sick to move.”
How stupid could she have been? If she had only been patient, she would have been fine. Honor was too tired to chastise herself further. She had made a careless, selfish mistake. Now, from the tone of Maris’ voice, she was facing dire consequences. It would take at least an hour for Rowan to reach Milltown. What would happen if he arrived and Renata was not available? Maris was back at her bedside, holding her hand.
“Everything will be okay, Honor. We will take care of you, you stubborn girl.”
A warm rag was laid across her forehead. “While you rest, I will tell you a story that not many know,” Maris whispered, her face close to Honor’s ear.
“Once upon a time, there were three kingdoms. The Kingdom of Earth, the Kingdom of Creatures and the Kingdom of Man. Each kingdom lived independently, but never hesitated to aid the others in times of need,” Maris began
Honor did not know if the fever brought the vivid images to her mind, or if the magic of the story painted the pictures for her, but no sooner did the story begin that it came to life inside her mind.
“Through the years, the Kingdom of Man began to forget the strength they once found in the other kingdoms. People took over the land, paying no mind to whether or not the land truly belonged to them. The Kingdom of Earth was the first to fall. As mankind spread across it like a festering disease, the spirits of nature grew still as the wild magic dissipated. Because of this, the Kingdom of Creatures was forced to bow to the will of man. Animals were treated cruelly, hunted for sport, and treated as less than they were. The more intelligent creatures took refuge away from mankind. Still, others adapted to their new life by slowly letting go of the qualities that made them strong.” Maris took a moment to dab at Honor’s forehead again. She gently lifted the warm cloth from her side, presumably to examine the mark and infection that was still spreading before she continued.
“Over the centuries, mankind forgot about the other kingdoms until the only memory they held was that of their own rule. Eventually, we even began to neglect our own. Gone were the days of community and caring for one another. Time had been cruel to their memories. The wild magic was twisted for personal power and control. Soon, there were senseless crimes committed against one another, wars broke out, and then came the adoption of the Makt.”
Even in her fevered state, Honor was taken back to the two soldiers wandering through the wood. The Makt had been terrorizing Alderwood for centuries. Those of the royal bloodline were known to live longer than others, but King Junius had lived far longer than anyone had expected following the prophecy. Many said it was due to his hermitage, but Honor wondered if there was more to it than that. Year after year, the Makt continued to grow. More young men joined, ready and willing to live, kill, and die for their king.
The fearsome army served the king. For years, they were known to smite any who dared defy the crown. There were stories of entire villages being slaughtered and destroyed because the Makt could not identify the person responsible for whatever slight they were punishing. Innocent men, women, and children had been murdered in the name of a king who was too afraid to leave the confines of his castle.
“The importance of this story does not lie in the history of man, but in the story of the three kingdoms. In order to restore the other kingdoms, our kingdom must fall. The Kilgore Oracle was the last surviving human from a time when we alone did not claim the throne. Once, the kingdoms were governed by a triad—one representative from each kingdom who had the best interests of their people in mind.”
Honor fought to pay attention to the story, she knew there was something she needed to hear between the words. But her mind could not stay awake. She drifted into a dream rich with the images of a story she had never heard.
Magic coursed through the ground. Every blade of grass glistened with the golden light of wild magic. It felt like home. Ternion Forest looked lighter and more alive than it ever had before. Everything had a voice, everything had a soul. It was beautiful.
Honor watched the world as it was supposed to be. Alderwood was meant to alive and breathe wild magic. She floated away into the sky, soaring across the vibrant green of Spring below. Ahead, the dark outline of a
great city waited on the horizon. Honor knew instinctively she was seeing Pallisaide.
She zoomed closer to the palace and in then through a window into a room full of light. Large, open archways let the sunlight flooded in leaving no corner left untouched. Three thrones sat at the center, each adorned with intricate details that spoke of the kingdoms they represented. The throne at the center was clearly meant for the Kingdom of Man; its smooth surface and sharp angles told of the mechanical advances they had achieved. To the right was a throne woven together from trees and vines, brilliant blooms accented the greenery for the throne Honor decided belonged to the Kingdom of Earth. Faces of various animals carved of stone peered from the surface of the final throne, the soft pelts of fur that covered it must have come from the Kingdom of Creatures.
This Alderwood was more than anything Honor could have imagined. It was more than just alive, it was living. The wild magic was free to inhabit every inch of each living thing, and it showed in the vibrant life she saw in and out of the castle. This was the way Alderwood was meant to be, this was the world Maris was telling her about. This was the world that would never be as long as the current King sat upon the throne, sucking the life out of Alderwood.
Darkness suddenly came from nowhere. It crept into the corners, draining the gold from the sun itself. Honor witnessed the eyes of an animal dull as the intelligence afforded it by the wild magic slowly drained away. She felt the spirits of Ternion Forest drain until they were trapped within the trees, flowers, plants, and water; their sources of life becoming their prisons. Shadowy figures crowded around the thrones of the other kingdoms, blocking them from view and leaving only the Kingdom of Man in sight. Honor shuddered at the sight of a wicked man perched on the throne that slowly morphed into a pile of bones. She tried to turn away but had no control over her own body. She was drawn closer to the King until his hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing the life from her as she gasped for air until everything faded away.
