Bladesorrow (The Agarsfar Saga Book 1)

by D. T. Kane

  “Erem says we’re nearly out of the woods, that we can make the Crossing tonight if we start moving again now.”

  She blinked again, trying to wipe the despondence of the dream from her thoughts. Giving Ferrin’s arm a squeeze to let him know she was awake, she looked past him to where Erem stood, pack over his shoulder and ready to move, just as if they hadn’t been walking sixteen hours a day for the past four days since the shades’ first attack, hardly an hour or two of real sleep in between.

  The going had been slow, dangerous, and horrifying. After those first few shades had interrupted Erem’s attempt to give her a sword lesson, they’d been harassed multiple times per day. Sometimes several attacks per hour, other times almost a whole day passed without incident. Just long enough to start believing they’d finally seen the last of the monsters. Then the sound of unseen footsteps, or the Pop of one of them slipping from one place to another, and a group of the fiends would be upon them.

  At first she’d tried to avoid using the blade Erem had given her. But it’d soon proved futile. Just carrying the weapon terrified her, bringing discomforting thoughts of her mother to mind. But her knives were ordinary steel and of little use against the shades, and they always came too close for her bow to be of use. The sword felt clumsy in her hands, like she was a child playing with a toy she didn’t understand. And yet somehow when it came to either defending herself or meeting her end at the point of one of the shades’ shadow hearts, the blade always found its mark. A sidestep and a flick of the blade to sever a hand. A parry and riposte to turn a shade into Ferrin’s waiting strike. Names of half-heard stances sometimes flitted through her memory, too quick for her to repeat or, in most instances, even understand. She’d no idea what to make of it, and if not for the constant threat of attack, she likely would have been too scared to even think of drawing the blade again. But as it was, she was too tired for anything more than focusing on the next step and keeping her hand ready to draw at a moment’s notice.

  Conversation had all but ceased amongst the three of them. Erem was so focused on their surroundings she was afraid to even breathe near him. He still forced Ferrin to practice control of his channeling, though the past couple of nights Ferrin had been too weak to do more than conjure thin trickles of elemental power.

  To her dismay, Erem had ceased training her altogether, insisting she already knew enough to get by, that sleep would serve her better. On the one hand, this claim left her so incredulous it was laughable. On the other, she wasn’t about to argue over the opportunity for additional sleep. His refusal to train her still stung, though.

  Ferrin was little better than Erem when it came to speaking. The grinding of his teeth was so incessant she feared to say anything that might induce him to open his mouth and release the cries of pain he repressed. His wound had become progressively worse since the shades’ reappearance, as if their mere proximity accelerated the corruption’s progression. So rather than talk, she’d taken to grasping his hand as they trudged after Erem. It took part of her mind off the constant tension of waiting for the shades’ next appearance, and it seemed to give Ferrin some comfort as well. She almost smiled at the thought.

  “Up,” Erem said. “Resting’s over. We’ll cross the West River before nightfall, but only if we move now. Every moment counts; we’ve no idea when the next attack might be.” He scrutinized the landscape in all directions as he spoke. “I still dislike how few of them have been coming at us.”

  This was a complaint he’d voiced many times now. At first it’d been confounding. Had he wanted more of the creatures to attack them? But as the days had continued, she’d come to grasp his meaning. There’d been a seemingly endless number of those things back at his cottage. Now they were out in the woods, exposed and exhausted, but the creatures only came in threes and fours? Almost as if they weren’t really trying to kill them. Just delay their progress.

  Ferrin helped her up. She let him do so without a second thought, but immediately regretted it as she saw him fight back a grimace of pain. She hugged him without releasing his hand and felt guilty at the lightness his smile brought to her heart.

  Erem’s throat clearing quickly ended their moment and they followed after him as he walked on at far too fast a pace. She quickly lost track of time, focused solely on keeping her exhausted limbs moving as they fought to remember what little strength they still held. She urged herself to just reach the next tree, then the next, then the next. The warmth of Ferrin’s hand in her own was the only comfort that remained to her.

  Erem suddenly raised a hand, stopping them. The trees were thinning, signaling the northern edge of the Woods of Falume. Before them stretched an empty plain, dotted with an occasional pine or oak, but otherwise lacking in cover. Corim’s Crossing couldn’t be more than an hour away, now that they were clear of Falume. Beyond the Crossing was a straight shot to the ford at Riverdale. And if they could clear that, then they’d be in the North. She still shuddered at the thought of going there, but the other alternatives chilled her even more.

  Under other circumstances the sight before them would have been beautiful. A slight breeze blew in off the river to their right, carrying aromas of earthy peat. The flat plain ahead was lush with green grass, dotted with colorful wildflowers. The terrain sloped downhill slightly, ultimately leading to the Crossing. A burning sunset shimmered off to their left, bright shades of crimson and gold illuminating the western horizon.

  But the thinning of Falume also brought back the stark reality of their situation. Ferrin was dying and his only hope remained on the treacherous path ahead. Even if what she’d been taught of the shadow was all wrong, the North was inhospitable, full of natural dangers. And there still remained the threat of the Parents. They were undoubtedly looking for Ferrin, and the shades had greatly delayed their trip through Falume.

  She set her face, running a hand over the yew bow slung over her shoulder, trying not to think of the blade at her hip. The thought that mother may have travelled this same road on her fateful trip to Riverdale came unwelcome to her mind, striking discord in her stomach. She strode up alongside Erem, hoping that feigned confidence might somehow impact reality. Ferrin hung back and she glimpsed a wince on his face as he grasped his afflicted shoulder.

  “What do you think?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the clearing ahead.

  He shook his head. “I think this is a bad idea.” He glanced back at Ferrin, who quickly dropped his hand from his wound. Erem’s voice lost its gruff edge. “But it’s the best of many bad ideas. Our only option.”

  Erem crouched down, scooping up a handful of earth to rub between his worn palms. He inhaled deeply before rising. “We keep as near to the cliff face as we can. It’s the most direct route to the Crossing and will also keep us away from the road as long as possible. But the Parents may have patrols scouring the whole plain between here and the Crossing. That’s what I would do. They know you could only come out of Falume one of two ways, and it’s been long enough for word from the Grand Father to have travelled this far. We must be prepared to take flight, or possibly even defend ourselves.”

  The dark expression that crossed Erem’s face when he mentioned the Grand Father brought back to mind how he’d spoken of the man before they’d left. But now was hardly the time to pry into his past.

  “And keep a careful eye for the children they have with them.”

  “The sniffers?” she replied. “They let them roam free?”

  Erem gave a disgusted growl in the back of his throat. “Free? Hardly. Those collars they have on them do more than block them from the shadow. They also heighten their senses. And provide excellent tethers for the Parents’ leads.”

  Now it was Jenzara’s stomach that churned with abhorrence. “So they use them like dogs?”

  Erem’s silent stare into the open plain was all the answer she needed. Ferrin saved her from having to dwell on the thought, striding up beside them. He rolled his shoulders in what Jenzara guessed was a
covert effort to relieve discomfort from his wound.

  “The two of you don’t need to come with me. You shouldn’t risk yourselves on my account. It’s only me the Parents want.”

  He included both of them in the comment, but he only looked at her as he spoke.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jenzara said, trying to keep the emotion out of her tone. She thought she might cry at the tone of guilt in his voice. “I won’t abandon you to those murderers.”

  Without thinking, she grasped Ferrin’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, as much to quell her own worry as his. Their eyes met for a moment and he gave her a faint smile.

  “I stay too,” Erem said, having already turned back to the path ahead. “I would like nothing more than to turn back and return to the clearing.” He glanced at her and Ferrin. “But I’d like even more to keep you pair from dying.”

  Ferrin grinned at this, clapping Erem on the back. “Don’t go soft on us now.”

  The man harrumphed. “I’m only doing it for Raldon.” But even Jenzara could hear the lack of conviction in his words. She found herself smiling too. It appeared the man had come to appreciate their company in spite of himself. And Jenzara was surprised to find that she felt the same way about him.

  “We continue,” he gruffed, then set off without waiting for them to follow, his cracked leather boots somehow making no sound as he stalked away.

  Jenzara looked to Ferrin and reddened when she realized they were still holding hands. She let go. Which was stupid. They’d been holding hands for hours at a time over the past several days. Her cheeks heated further.

  “We’d better follow before he charges into a group of Parents without us,” Ferrin said. His voice was nonchalant, but his eyes lingered on her. She dropped hers and turned to hurry after Erem, but Ferrin grasped her shoulder, forcing her to turn around.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” His eyes were filled with intense sincerity.

  She nodded, trying to think of an equally meaningful reply. She’d die before seeing anything happen to him. But the sentiment caught in her suddenly tight throat, so instead she just embraced him. Ferrin welcomed the gesture, pulling her close, and for a second she was lost in his arms. She felt her chest heave against his, heat rising in her belly.

  Then he released her, gave her a sad smile. “We’d better catch up.”

  She nodded, mouth too dry to speak, and they hurried after Erem, as they’d done so many times these past few days.

  They carried on in that manner for what seemed an eternity, following Erem’s lead, but never quite catching up to him. In reality, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour, as the sun still hadn’t sunk completely below the horizon. She still half expected an army of Parents to appear at any moment and she’d no idea what to do when that happened. Drawing her sword on a shade was one thing. But on a breathing person? How did Erem stay so calm? She looked to Ferrin for some sign of reassurance, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts once more.

  She nearly walked into Erem’s back. He’d frozen in place and was giving them an urgent gesture to stop and remain silent. The landscape around them was now bathed in shadows from the near-set sun. There was an occasional tree, but nowhere they could hide. She suddenly realized how exposed they were. A passing breeze caught at the collar of her shirt, rubbing the fabric across the nape of her neck. She shook as a chill shot down her spine.

  Erem lowered himself to a crouch and motioned for them to do the same. She wanted to ask what had alarmed him, but his exigency held her tongue. As usual, it was difficult to get a true sense of his expression with those specs he wore. But the creases at the sides of his eyes suggested he was either squinting into the distance or focusing with great intensity. She tried to follow his gaze but saw nothing. Then a whisper of a conversation from somewhere ahead of them, carried on a breeze that blew in off the river.

  From behind the cover of a tree in the distance, she saw a group of four emerge. They were too far, and the light too faded, to make out their faces. But the white robes of three of the figures were enough indication of who they were. A line led from the fourth figure’s neck to the hands of one of the Parents. Bile burned in the back of her throat as that Parent tugged violently at the line, snapping the girl’s head back.

  “What’s wrong with her?” one of the other Parents grumbled loud enough to hear.

  “Dirty fifth,” mumbled the third. “More trouble than they’re worth.”

  The child stood frozen, despite her handler’s harsh treatment, and Jenzara feared they’d been spotted. But the child just looked around, first one way, then the other, as if confused. Jenzara looked to Erem for an explanation, but he remained intently focused on the approaching group, unaware of Jenzara’s questioning gaze. He was muttering under his breath, same as he’d done the night he’d saved Ferrin.

  He’s channeling at the child, she realized. She couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing, but whatever it was had plainly befuddled the shadow girl. The Parent holding the girl’s leash yanked at it and Jenzara could just make out the child’s yelp, followed by the Parent’s angry reproach. The child continued to look about for a few moments, confusion continuing to paint her features, then began to lead the Parents west—away from them.

  Jenzara let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Erem held his crouch for perhaps a minute more, though it seemed forever, then rose and motioned for Jenzara and Ferrin to follow. He moved more slowly now, and Jenzara was sure his eyes were flitting back and forth beneath his specs, on the lookout for more threats. She glanced back to Ferrin and saw he’d drawn his sword.

  They crept on, edging ever closer to the Crossing. Her stomach was a knot and she was grateful that the sun’s setting served to conceal the fear she knew her eyes betrayed. Every footfall seemed too loud. Her breathing a wyvern’s wail. She’d spent much of the past three days wishing Erem would slow his pace. Now she had to control the urge to sprint ahead of him.

  Then she saw it. The Crossing. The bridge itself was less than impressive, simple stone construction reinforced with wooden beams, worn and faded from centuries of existence and spray from the fast-moving river that flowed below. A precarious wooden stair led down to the water, where a dock for the barges that traveled along the river would be. She didn’t think someone could pay her enough gilts and silvs to try walking down those steps.

  Much more impressive were the twin guard towers, one towering over either end of the bridge. Each was a cylinder penetrating into the darkening sky, as if granite spikes had sprouted from the earth like beanstalks. They were a brilliant white stone that gave off a slight sparkle. Thin windows for archers scattered the walls of each and parapets ringed their tops. Father had once told her the towers had been built by Ral himself, modeled after the various waytowers that dotted the countryside, once supplying respite for weary travelers. She believed it, for certainly no ordinary man could construct such wonders now.

  But just as she’d begun to thrill at reaching their destination, her heart dropped once more. At least eight white-robed figures stood at various points around the causeway. Two more, that she could see anyway, peered down from the top of the tower on this side of the river. Without conscious thought, she scrunched her shoulders as if that would hide her from the sentries’ eyes.

  Erem cursed and drew his ebon blade, smooth metal sliding from its sheath with a deafening rasp. She tore her gaze from the distant Crossing and saw what had prompted his action. The shadow-attuned child was leading the trio of parents towards them.

  “She must have sorted out the source of my channel. Smart girl,” Erem muttered. “That trick fooled even Nellis.”

  Jenzara barely heard him. The group had already spotted them. A similar trick would not work this time.

  “What do we do?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the approaching contingent and wondering if she ought to nock an arrow, then wondering if her shaking hands could even do so.
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br />   Before Erem could reply, the area around them grew suddenly less dark. A heartbeat later, the ground around the approaching Parents erupted into shards of earth and stone, sending the men and young girl flailing into the air. Each landed with a sickening crunch and moved no more. The girl landed not ten steps from them, limbs twisted, dark eyes open and frozen in terror. A red flower slid noiselessly to the ground from a chest pocket in her tunic.

  A whimper escaped Jenzara’s lips. Three men and the girl. Dead. Faster than she could snap her fingers. Not unlike how father had died. There one moment. Then gone. She swayed, suddenly lightheaded, ears ringing from the cacophony of exploding earth.

  Erem’s raised voice, mixed with anger and urgency, brought a partial return of her senses. Erem knelt next to Ferrin, who’d sunk to his own knees, groaning in pain.

  “They didn’t need to die, boy,” Erem growled at Ferrin as he stooped over him. “And any more power in that channel and we’d be dead along with them. You’re lucky we’re not all deaf now. Did you listen to nothing I’ve told you?”

  “Did you listen to nothing I told you?” Ferrin retorted through clenched teeth. “They aimed to do the exact same to us. I was just faster.” He winced as Erem prodded his wounded shoulder.

  Jenzara shook her head, still numb.

  “What happened? Did one of the Parents hurt you, Ferrin?” She could hear angry shouts from the figures at the Crossing. They didn’t have much time.

  “The boy channeled into the ground.” The anger in Erem’s voice had turned to concern. “The effort seems to have aggravated his injury even further. Can you rise, Ferrin?”

  Ferrin had caused the explosion? But then that meant he’d killed those people. The little girl. She cast wide eyes at him.