Half of the roots were still embedded into the ground while the upper half curled upward like a mass of tentacles. Intertwined, they form a small alcove just big enough for two rahee to huddle behind while offering them the perfect view of the camp below.
Careful to keep his tall frame low to the ground, Jaycent moved silently from tree to tree until he reached the trunk’s alcove. Levee hesitated until the prince motioned impatiently for her to follow.
With a deep breath, she sprinted for the tree’s open arms. Every crunch and crackle seemed incredibly loud to the gypsy’s sensitive ears, and she winced with every sound.
Out here, so close to the enemy camp, she felt open and vulnerable. Not a hint of air escaped her lungs until she ducked safely into the confines of the tree’s hollow.
“Relax,” the prince whispered, his eyes scanning the terrain. “They didn’t even bother to set up guards.”
“You don’t think that’s odd?” Levee noted.
“Of course I do,” the prince muttered back. “That’s why we’re here.”
Pulling the bow from the strap on his back, Jaycent peered between the trunk’s exposed roots to survey the camp below. He saw a handful of tents scattered throughout the bowl. Several mimics dozed inside, their grotesque toes poking out from their primitive A-frame shelters. Barely six yards from Jaycent and Levee, a fire burned beneath a healthy chunk of meat.
Two mimics sat adjacent to each other at the edge of the burning pit: a taller one with his back to the prince and another hunched over his knees, his wide set eyes glued to the stick he used to prod the burning logs.
Jaycent could have easily wreaked havoc upon the entire camp with his bow before any of them could assemble a cohesive defense. It was not a comforting notion. His Highness ducked behind the tree’s roots with the disturbing awareness that their mission was far too easy.
Mimics were overcautious creatures who relied on stealth and deception to protect them and gain the upper hand. Either this was a trap or something dwelled here that made them feel safe; something powerful. An uneasy feeling stirred within his gut.
He considered calling his scouts back, but the oddities of what he witnessed posed too many questions. They needed answers, so the prince listened in on the two mimics bickering beside the fire below.
“What’s taking Groff and the others so long?” said the short, stubby mimic manning the fire. “It doesn’t take an hour to fetch a few pales of water.”
“Stop whining,” grumbled the other, skinnier mimic. “They haven’t even been gone for half an hour.” The crackle of the fire broke between them, flinging embers into the air.
“I’m parched!” the first complained. “It took us withering into leather before that superstitious Tonguk let us get take water from the lake. And when are we going to be roasting unicorn meat like the boss promised? I’m sick of eating these plains ponies. They’re all tough and stringy.”
Levee’s stomach lurched. The thought of eating horse meat made her insides curl, and she couldn’t bear to imagine how many had fallen victim to the mimics’ appetite. Jaycent placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, his own mind coming to grips with how many mimics it must take to chase away entire herds.
“Hush! Our orders come from the Master, and he isn’t one to tolerate whiners. He’ll have your hide if he heard you complaining like this.”
Master… Jaycent mouthed the words with great concern. The odds of these camps being a matter of minor inconvenience dissipated like sand through outspread fingers.
“Speaking of the Master, he’s been gone, too! None of us have seen him since he sent the night mares after that damned unicorn king three days ago.”
Jaycent and Levee exchanged worried glances. Worse than mimics, night mares were demonic unicorns born from the fires of the earth. Only a powerful magic could command obedience from such creatures.
“You think killing the unicorn king is easy? Give the Master a break,” hackles rose between the two mimics and Jaycent half expected the skinny one to slay its companion and toss him into the fire.
“What’s wrong with asking questions? We didn’t come here to chase unicorns. It’s the prince the Master wants dead! He said it himself,” the short one pulled his stick from the fire and hopped forward until his face sat inches from his comrade. Spit flung from his fang-filled mouth as he continued, “We’re wasting time, I say! If we wait much longer, those horse-ears are going figure us out, and then they’ll send a whole horde of soldiers out after us.”
“Who cares if they do?” the taller mimic shoved his grumpy comrade aside and continued sharpening his spear. “Let them empty their gates with their fodder. The Master’s magic is strong enough to take them all on.”
“I don’t believe it,” the short one protested. “In fact, I think he fears them. That’s why we’re sitting here instead of marching toward their city.
“I overheard the Master telling Tonguk that we were just bait to lure out their patrols. The prince is expected to be among them and the Master has to kill him before we made our move.”
“Of course he wants to kill him first. He’s the horse-ear’s prince, ye dolt!” A gray hand clapped against the protesting mimic’s bald head. “It’s like the Master said: to kill the snake, you have to chop off its head.”
“It’s more than that. I think he’s scared of him!” Jaycent watched the bulky mimic’s voice as he jumped up and down in frustration. What he first marked as cowardice now rang as apprehension as the little one refused to silence his concerns. “The prince has something in him. Some kind of magic that the Master’s afraid of.”
“Hogwash!” the lanky one spat. He shook his sharpening stone in the chubby mimic’s face. “Master said his first attack those centuries ago was to weaken the horse-ears, and he did! None of them remember how to use magic anymore and their bond with horses is a fraction of what it used to be.”
“But—”
“I’ve heard enough out of you,” the tall one wagged his spear threateningly. “Stop your whining before I stick this in your eye!”
The snap of a twig at their backs stole Jaycent’s attention from the bickering duo. Ten paces behind the fallen tree, a mimic gathering brushwood caught sight of the two rahee. His chest heaved with a breath full of air, ready to sound an alarm.
The words never left his lips. In a blink of an eye, Jaycent’s hands produced and loosed an arrow. Fwop! It greeted the mimic’s throat with mortal welcome, and he dropped before he had the chance to speak.
“What was that?” one of the mimics below asked. Yellow eyes trailed to the unseen grounds just over their heads, and the pair shared a suspicious glance. Spears in hand, they started climbing the side of the ridge.
Jaycent mouthed a curse under his breath. He stabbed the downed creature in the heart and dragged its limp body into a sitting position against one of the trees ten feet to the left of the hollowed trunk.
The mimics’ level of knowledge told Jaycent his city had been infiltrated with spies, and he was the target. He plucked the arrow from his victim and spun around the tree’s wide trunk. Swapping his bow for the blade on his hip, he pressed his lean frame against the bark.
Levee inched further into the alcove’s tight corner and held her breath as the scrape of climbing boots grew louder behind her. The dead tree creaked as hands gripped its trunk and pulled two ugly bodies onto higher ground. Moments later, two pairs of leather clad heels appeared in front of her, and paused.
“Mungo?” The taller of the two approached the slouching mimic and poked the dead thing with the end of its spear. Mungo’s body toppled over.
“They found us,” the smaller mimic despaired. “I told you they would come, didn’t I, Growk? I told you the horse-ears—”
Growk thrust his spear into the mouth that never shut, sighing in relief as the high strung mimic joined Mungo in eternal slumber. “The whole lot of them will find us with you yapping like so.”
His satisfaction was
short-lived. A long shadow cast in front of Growk, dwarfing his own. Before the mimic could face its owner, a sword drew up through his belly. Yellow eyes stared at the horse-like ears and icy eyes reflected against the sword’s crimson sheen, then Growk slipped into darkness where he knew no more.
The prince wiped his blade on the back of Growk’s tunic. “Move,” he ordered Levee.
She slipped from the natural recess and watched as the prince stuffed the dead bodies inside the tree’s shallow chamber.
“What now?” she whispered.
“We leave,” His Highness let out a few sharp whistles, mimicking an evening bird’s call. Levee recognized it as the cue for his scouts to return as she and the prince made for the edge of the wood.
Jaycent thought about the other units walking into similar traps. He could do nothing to warn them. All he could focus on was getting his own unit home.
The prince helped Levee untether the horses as they waited for the others to return. “We will make for the city’s northern gate,” the prince whispered. Helping her onto Joust, he scooted the gypsy forward and used a dead stump to climb up behind her. “It’s the quickest route to Nevaharday.”
Levee nodded. Like the prince, she had heard enough of the mimics’ plans. They needed help if they were to face this dangerous foe. One by one the soldiers arrived at the meeting point, each bearing their share of disturbing news.
“A map of our city was spread on a stump next to one of the larger tents,” imparted Rizzo, an older soldier with more experience than the rookie, Kotu, and the prince combined. “It detailed everything from the inside streets to our outer walls. There’s no chance of this being a wandering band of mimics, Your Highness. We clearly have an organized group on our hands, and they have eyes on the inside.”
“We have spies among our soldiers,” Jaycent had already come to the same conclusion.
Levee’s eyes trailed toward Kotu, their encounter in Nevaharday drawing her suspicions. The rahee raised a brow at her judging stare.
“Or maybe the gypsies have decided to send our city a message,” Kotu suggested. “I wouldn’t put it past them to hire these mongrels do their dirty work.”
“Gypsies would not conspire with mimics,” Jaycent stated, unamused.
Kotu shrugged. “Just considering every possible scenario, Your Highness. The gypsies are notorious for sneaking into places they don’t belong. All it would take is one on castle grounds…” Kotu let those words speak for themselves, and Levee knew he was trying to pin her.
“Your Highness,” she began, but Jaycent interrupted before she could say any more.
“Let us not jump ahead of ourselves,” the prince’s eyes flicked toward the horizon with a sense of urgency. “Rizzo, I need you to relay the information we’ve gathered to the gypsies.”
“Your Highness?” the soldier hesitated, caught off guard by the request.
Jaycent motioned for him to go. “This is not their work. Patchi may not agree with our way of life, but he would not start a war against his kin. Make haste for the toll point. Tell them I sent you and spare no detail to the guards posted there. We will need their help in this.”
Rizzo swallowed back his complaints and set out east while Jaycent and the others veered west through Dragon’s Mist. The prince whistled for Diego, hoping he would hear their retreat and return to his side, but his call faded within the trees.
“We can’t linger,” Levee gently reminded. Jaycent nodded, turning Joust south toward Nevaharday’s northern gates. The unicorn would have to make his way back to the city on his own. Their group couldn’t afford to wait.
Their horses launched into a determined gallop, encouraged by the sight of the castle’s stone parapets cresting the far hills. When no sight or sound of mimics followed them, Jaycent started to believe they might make it back without a scuffle.
They were so close. The walls were growing taller in the distance. Soon, the gypsies’ forest was all that stood between them and the northern gate. All four rahee leaned forward in their saddles, bent on looping the forest’s edge and returning to the safety of the city’s walls.
But as they neared the dark woods, the air suddenly shimmered like that of a humid summer. They slowed as the hopeful image of the city’s gates rippled before them.
“Stop!” Levee shouted. She reached over the prince and yanked Joust’s reins back. The horse skidded to a stop and reared high onto his hind legs. His hooves raked the air as Jaycent and Levee were thrown to the ground.
The other two horses weren’t as fortunate. Blind to the magical wall, they smashed into its hardened surface and collapsed, dazed and broken.
Kotu leapt from his mare’s back and rolled across the grass relatively unharmed, but the rookie wasn’t so lucky. Stuck under the dead weight of his horse, he tried to push the beast off of his waist only to discover a fate far more frightening.
“M-my legs,” he stuttered. “I can’t feel my legs!”
Levee did a quick inspection of Jaycent, who didn’t look so good himself. While nothing appeared to be broken, the prince held his forehead in one hand, wincing in pain.
“Kotu, see to the rookie!” Levee cried out. He glared at her but obliged nonetheless. Levee then knelt and placed a hand on Jaycent’s forearm. “Your Highness, are you okay?”
Jaycent hardly heard her. Around him everything seemed to fade into dull shadows and silhouettes. When he looked up, he saw a familiar blood red gaze staring at him from between the trees. The creature’s stare burned like fire when their eyes met and the prince could feel it pervading his mind. He growled, clenching his head in pain.
Levee searched Jaycent’s eyes, trying to fathom what he was seeing. Something not of this world, of that she was certain. He looked beyond her, his blue eyes filled with agony and dread. She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to face her. “Your Highness, look at me!”
Suddenly, Jaycent felt the cool touch of Levee’s palms on his cheeks. The sound of her voice seemed to echo from far away, but he could hear it. An angry snarl echoed in his head followed by a white flash, then it dissipated, leaving Levee’s worried face in its stead. Jaycent blinked several times, confused, and the gypsy sighed with relief.
“Your Highness?”
A howl pierced their ears and Jaycent sat up straight. He stared into the pitch dark confines of the forest as recognition pulled him to his feet. The dimness of nightfall, the howls in the air, the mud beneath his boots—it was all familiar. Jaycent had made this desperate flight a thousand times over in his dreams.
“We have to turn around,” he insisted. “We have to find a different path.”
The prince’s visions were beginning to manifest, and he was convinced the forest would spell the end to his story. Jaycent wasn’t prepared to face the wolf, or whatever it truly was, tonight. His unit had to find another way to escape.
Or did they? He looked back at the members of his party eagerly awaiting his direction. Unlike his visions, Jaycent wasn’t alone. Nor was he unarmed. His unit stood behind him, willing to follow their prince into anything.
But then he looked at Levee standing there, doing everything in her power to be like one of his brave soldiers. There was more to gain, yes, but also more to lose. If she was one of the speakers the book had spoken of then he had to be careful. One lucky hit could take her life, and possibly the last of her kind along with it.
Yet what choice did they have? The prince watched as Kotu struggled to get the wounded rookie safely onto Joust’s back. With one horse, an injured soldier, and three of them on foot, his unit would not get far very fast.
As he stood there weighing the options, fog crept out of the forest toward them. Jaycent clinched his fist around the sword at his belt, acknowledging the grim sign that his enemy offered only one choice. He exhaled slowly from his nose as he pulled his blade free of its scabbard. Overhead, storm clouds blotted out the sky while several pairs of yellow eyes dotted the thick mesh of trees.
&
nbsp; Jaycent’s face twisted into a defiant snarl as a small line of mimics emerged from the trees’ veil. His Highness swung his sword in his hand, finding reassurance in the familiar weight of the blade and how easily it obeyed his commands. A second sword sang behind him as Kotu took up the prince’s flank.
“This is the time to hide, Levee,” Jaycent remarked.
The gypsy shook her head and stepped valiantly next to Jaycent. “I’m not leaving your side.”
The unit fell back, putting distance between themselves and the trees while gaining more open ground. “If I am right about you and what you can do, Levee, then you cannot die tonight,” the prince reasoned in a harsh whisper. “Our people may need your gift.”
Levee grabbed the bow from the prince’s back and yanked an arrow from his quiver. “Luckily, Your Highness, dying was not in my plans tonight,” she replied. “The way I see it, I have a better chance of surviving this by your side than I do cowering until one of these monsters finds me.”
“Does she even know how to use that thing?” Kotu protested. Levee notched the arrow, took her time to aim, and loosed. The volley whipped through the air and struck one of the approaching mimics in the crotch. The monster crumpled to the ground with a howl, and the rookie to her left winced.
“That’s good enough for me,” he quipped as he clung to Joust’s back.
Jaycent surrendered his quiver. “Well,” he looked upon his unit with the gleam of a proud leader. “Let us leave these beasts with an impression of the rahee they will not soon forget.”
The prince led the rush with a fierce battle cry, his hungry sword decapitating the nearest mimic. Spears flew at them with ill-practiced aim, darting into the ground all around their feet. Jaycent and Kotu dodged, finding the projectiles more of a nuisance than a threat. As the experienced soldiers clashed with the monsters, Levee nipped at their foes with Jaycent’s arrows, and Joust struck out with his massive hooves.
New mimics trampled the bodies of their dead companions as they rushed into the onslaught, and Jaycent dodged the oncoming wave long enough to watch Levee shoot. She was slow, but methodic, as she notched her arrow and set her sights.
The Rogue Trilogy Page 22
