by Sky Croft
Blake’s brow drew together in puzzlement. “What is it?”
“It would be best if I showed you,” Lathana said. Clearly sensing that Blake was torn between the two choices, Lathana added, “Anikett is not seriously injured. I wouldn’t have left her if she were. Her arm is broken, but I have already braced it.”
“I’ll go to Anikett,” Shale said.
Blake tipped her head. She knew the young woman was a friend of Shale’s. In fact, when Shale and Kale had originally arrived in the village, Anikett had been one of the first to befriend Shale. “Amber, go with Shale, make sure Anikett’s all right to travel. It’s a good walk back to the village.”
Amber nodded in confirmation. “We’ll see to it, Blake.”
“How far is she?” Shale asked Lathana.
“A hundred paces or so. She’ll be on your left. You can’t miss her.”
As Shale and Amber continued on, Lathana pushed some foliage aside, and led the way through large, overgrown bushes. “The mudslide is just through here. It’s where I ended up.” Lathana politely held back a branch for Blake, then she took them deeper into the thick shrub.
Up ahead, the plants had been abruptly cut off, the landslide washing everything away down the mountain. As Blake emerged, once again onto boggy mud—a substance she was quickly coming to hate— she instantly saw why Lathana had brought her.
Laid out in front of them, spread across the dirt, was a dead body. Or rather, a skeleton. The remains were clearly old, given the fact that only bones remained, but Blake was still able to tell, from the disintegrating rags that had once been clothes, that the body was that of an Amazon.
“She’s a sister Amazon.”
Around the skeleton’s neck, hung a worn leather pouch. Not squeamish, Kale knelt down and removed it. Lathana cupped her hands together, and Kale poured the contents of the pouch into them. A bejeweled bracelet tumbled out, along with a small piece of parchment, which had been folded many times.
Blake gingerly unfolded the parchment, careful not to damage it. It was in remarkably good condition—the leather pouch had protected it well. Though the ink had faded considerably, the words could still be distinguished, as could the sketch that took up the majority of the page.
Kale, who was peering down at the drawing in intrigue, said, “It looks like a map of some kind.”
“Yes, but a map to what?” Lathana delicately traced the bracelet with a finger. “Perhaps it has something to do with this?”
“Perhaps.” Blake folded up the map and returned it to the pouch. The bracelet followed. “My mother might know something about it.”
Lathana nodded. She gestured to the skeleton. “I’m unsure as to whether she was buried, and the landslide has simply unearthed her, or whether she’s been laid here all along, undiscovered.”
“I don’t think she was buried. Surely someone would’ve taken the map, or at least the bracelet? It looks valuable,” Kale said. “It seems to me she was on her way to delivering this map, likely to her queen, when something happened to her. She never made it to her destination.”
Blake nodded. “I agree. It’s possible her body lay here undiscovered. She’s off the trail, and the brush was thick to get through.”
“Could she have been caught in a landslide herself?” Lathana asked. “Like we almost were.”
“I’ve never known of a landslide here,” Blake said. “But it clearly can happen, today is proof of that.”
Kale leaned over the skeleton, and began to examine the bones and skull. “Look at this.” She indicated a substantial hole in the back of the skull. “A wound like that would kill.”
“You think she was murdered?” Lathana’s voice rose in pitch. “For the pouch?”
“Not necessarily. She could’ve fallen from the plateau and smashed her head on a rock.”
“If she was murdered for the pouch,” Blake said, “surely it would’ve been taken?”
“You would think so.” Kale pointed toward the mountain. “But not if she fell from up there. Let’s say she was killed, either by a weapon, or simply by being pushed off the plateau. Her body falls quickly out of sight, and the murderer can’t find her. You said yourself, Blake, that brush was thick. We only found her because of the landslide.”
“I don’t know, Kale. I’d think if someone was determined enough to kill for the pouch, they’d have stuck around to find it.”
Kale sighed. “You’re right.”
“Unless...” Blake thought it through. “What if the task was already complete? What if the killer just wanted to stop what was in the pouch from being delivered?”
Kale’s eyes widened. “The map?”
Blake nodded. Then she shrugged. “We’re just speculating. It could’ve just as easily been an accident.”
“But if we’re right,” Kale said, “whatever this map leads to, someone thought it was worth killing for.”
Blake laid a compassionate hand on the dead Amazon’s skull. “And worth dying for.”
Chapter Six
“THE BOTTOM MOUNTAIN trail is completely covered by the landslide, but the higher trail is still passable. It’s a longer trek, but at least we still have passage through.”
“Well, that’s something, Blakaea.” Zayla shook her head. “You certainly had an eventful outing. Thank Artemis none of you were seriously hurt.”
“Amber had a close call. She nearly...” Blake pulled in a shaky breath, and she sat down on the closest chair she could find. Both her mother and Shale were instantly beside her, each warm touch immensely comforting.
“Amber’s fine,” Shale said. “Appollonia’s checking her as we speak. She’s safe.”
Blake nodded, knowing that Lathana, Anikett, and Kale were also at the healer’s lodge, though only Kale didn’t need treatment.
Fortunately, on the way back to the village, they’d passed close by to a stream, so they’d all been able to remove the mud from their skin. Their clothes were still dirty, but they’d managed to get themselves relatively clean.
Blake gripped Shale’s hand, which was on her thigh. She took a moment to collect herself. “What with the fire, and now the landslide...three out of the four most important people in my life have been in imminent danger recently.” She blew out a breath. “It’s a lot to take.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to explain yourself,” Shale said. “I understand.”
Blake entwined her fingers through Shale’s, then she smiled at Zayla. “It seems Mother is the only one I can trust to stay out of trouble.”
Zayla returned her smile. “I’m too old for trouble.”
Blake scoffed. “Hardly.”
“Speaking of old,” Shale patted the leather pouch on Blake’s hip. “Show Zayla what we found.”
Blake untied the pouch, placed it on her lap, and fumbled inside for a moment before withdrawing and unfolding the map.
Zayla studied the parchment interestedly, but when Blake withdrew the bracelet, her gaze snapped to it in sudden attention. “This was on the body you found?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do with the remains?”
“We buried her, Mother. She was a sister Amazon.”
“She didn’t have anything else with her? A satchel, perhaps?”
Blake indicated the pouch in her lap. “This was all she had.” A frown furrowed her brow. “Why do you ask?”
Zayla crossed her cabin with a haste that revealed a sense of urgency and when she reached the writing table, she began to forage through a sizeable sheaf of parchment, sending scrolls skittering to the floor with careless abandon. “If this is what I think it is...”
Shale gave Blake a questioning look, but Blake just shrugged, equally in the dark as to her mother’s meaning. Blake didn’t impede the search by asking the obvious question. Though she badly wanted to, she knew her mother hated interruptions, and would tell them when ready.
Blake placed the pouch, map, and bracelet onto the nearby tabletop. She then en
circled Shale’s waist and tugged her down onto her lap, enjoying the familiar feel of Shale in her arms. “Rest your legs,” Blake said, stroking a well-muscled thigh. “It’s been a long day.”
Shale offered no protest, and leaned back into her hold, casually resting her head against Blake’s. As Zayla kept at her search, Shale turned her neck and laid a soft kiss on Blake’s cheek. “I’m sorry I scared you before, with the fire.”
Blake shook her blonde hair. “Don’t be. You did the right thing, Shale. You saved Nephele’s life.” Her fingertips lightly traced Shale’s face. “I’m so proud of you. I just don’t like to think of you in harm’s way.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” Shale twisted around and embraced Blake, holding her close. “I’ll try my best to stay out of trouble from now on. I’ll get some tips from your mother.”
Blake chuckled against her. “I’d appreciate it.”
“Here!” Zayla raised a disheveled piece of parchment as if it were a prize to behold. “Blakaea, bring the items you found.”
Shale stood, and pulled Blake up out of the chair. Blake gathered the objects and carried them to the writing table, spreading them out beside the parchment that Zayla was intently studying.
With Zayla in between them, Blake and Shale peered over her shoulder. Zayla tapped a discolored part of the sheet, where it had turned brown with age. She indicated the drawing there: it was a detailed drawing of a bracelet. The same exact bracelet that sat on the table.
“This is Queen Sappheire’s bracelet.”
“Mother?” Blake looked to her in shock. “Can it be?”
“See for yourself. The drawing is identical.”
While Blake compared the drawing to the object, Shale glanced to Zayla. “Who was this Queen Sappheire?”
“Forgive me, Shale,” Zayla laid an apologetic hand on her arm. “I’d forgotten you were not raised in this tribe. To explain it to you, I must go back to the very foundations of Amazon culture, to the beginnings of our great nation. You know of Queen Zephyra?”
Shale nodded. “Of course. The original Amazon. She started our nation, and rose to be its first queen.”
“Every single Amazon, no matter their tribe, owes their existence to Queen Zephyra. She is mother to us all,” Zayla said. “She had four daughters, to carry on her line, and when Queen Zephyra died, after her funeral pyre, her ashes were placed in a gold, bejeweled urn.”
Zayla pointed to the second drawing on the parchment. “That urn there.” She paused for a moment as Shale examined the picture. “As you would expect, the urn became a sacred relic to all Amazons, and was passed down Zephyra’s bloodline, to her direct descendants. Her eldest child, Airlia, inherited Zephyra’s rule, while the other three split away to form their own tribes, as Zephyra had wished. One went north, the other south, and the last west. Though we now have many more tribes, these three formed the basis of what you now know to be called the Northern Amazons, the Southern Amazons, and the Western. Zephyra’s tribe, which passed down to Airlia, lay in the east. Zephyra’s foresight allowed us to build a nation, rather than just a single, stand-alone tribe.
“Zephyra’s children each had children, so the bloodline grew in number.” Zayla’s tone turned droll. “No matter the tribe, there never seems to be a shortage of men who are willing to lay with an Amazon.”
She waved a dismissive hand, as if to get herself back on track. “The urn of Queen Zephyra was only passed to the most worthy of kin, blood relatives who had proved themselves to be of note. Eventually, it fell to Queen Sappheire, whose honored name reflected that of the first queen, and proudly displayed her ancestral heritage. Unfortunately, her tribe was ransacked by a group of marauders, and along with pillaging various valuable trinkets, including Queen Sappheire’s own personal bracelet and royal crest, the sacred urn containing Zephyra’s ashes was also taken.”
“Stolen?” Shale sounded skeptical. “I know the story of Zephyra’s urn. I heard it’d simply been lost over time.”
“It is lost,” Blake said. “No one knows where to find the urn.”
“But surely the theft of such an item would’ve been mentioned? The outcry alone,” Shale trailed off. “Poor Sappheire, was she stripped of her royal title? Cast out into exile?”
“Neither,” Zayla said. “Fearing the reprisal of such a failure, she swore herself and her tribe to secrecy. Don’t ask me how Sappheire managed to keep up such a pretense, for I don’t know. I know only that she succeeded. You, Shale, in your innocence to the full story, have just verified how successful she was.” Zayla paused, as if to let that sink in. “Having a direct lineage to Zephyra, Sappheire felt she had personally dishonored her ancestors, and devoted the rest of her life to recovering the urn. She never found it, but she did—in a last attempt to one day restore Zephyra to the Amazon nation, to her home—draw a detailed representation of the urn, her royal crest, and bracelet, so that her descendants would know what to look for.”
Shale nodded approvingly. “That was smart thinking.”
Zayla smiled ever-so-slightly. “She was a smart woman. And a good queen. It was simply misfortune that fell upon her, certainly no fault of her own. Yet Sappheire’s entire life after that was tainted. She felt the gods had both abandoned and cursed her in equal measure. Her sense of dishonor so great her entire being was swallowed up in it, until she was nothing more than a pale shadow of her former self.”
Zayla flipped the parchment to reveal a neatly written letter on the back. “Sappheire wrote this, basically expressing all I just told you.”
Shale read the letter anyway, as if wanting to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. “It’s terribly sad.”
Blake nodded, though she was lost in thought. “That’s why she gave her life.” Her mind suddenly connected the pieces together. “The Amazon we found, she died trying to restore her queen’s honor, trying to bring Zephyra home. She’d found the stolen bounty—the bracelet she carried proves it.”
“And she was killed to prevent the location being divulged,” Shale said. “The location she drew on the map.”
“Blakaea, are you sure she wasn’t carrying a satchel? Since she managed to retrieve the bracelet, she may well have retrieved the urn as well.”
“We didn’t see anything like that, though it is possible the landslide carried it away.” Blake’s heart sank at the notion, the urn would be impossible to recover from under all that mud.
“I don’t think she had the urn,” Shale said. “Or she wouldn’t have made the map. If she already had the prize her queen coveted, there would be no need to draw such a map.”
“A valid point.”
Hearing her mother’s impressed tone, Blake winked at Shale. “Beauty and brains.”
Shale returned her warm smile. “I also can’t imagine the marauders knew what the urn contained, or they would’ve likely ransomed it back to Sappheire. She would have paid a goodly sum. I think the thieves just saw the gems lining the urn. And if you look at the drawing,” Shale gestured to the picture, “it shows that the urn’s lid clips into place, which means it would have to be specifically removed, it couldn’t just fall off. So with some luck, and the gods willing, Zephyra’s ashes could still be safely inside.”
Zayla became tearful at the news, and Blake wrapped a compassionate arm around her. “We have a duty to our mother,” Zayla said. “We must restore Zephyra to her rightful place, return her to her home nation. And in so doing, we will restore Sappheire’s honor.”
Blake nodded her agreement. “We’ll do all we can. Let’s see where the map leads.”
Shale glanced to Zayla. “Was Sappheire an ancestor of yours?”
Zayla tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “Yes, though I never met her. She used to rule this tribe, before my great grandmother’s time.” Shale’s voice rose in amazement. “So you and Blake are descendants from Queen Zephyra herself?”
Zayla tipped her head. “We have that honor, yes.”
Shale looked somewhat
awestruck. “By the gods, Blake, you are a queen of queens.”
Blake raised a warning finger. “Don’t even think of using that as a title.”
“I wasn’t.” A slow grin spread from ear to ear. “At least, not until you mentioned it.”
Blake covered her face with a hand. “What have I done?”
“THERE IS SOMETHING familiar about the map, but I just can’t place...” Shale broke off with a frustrated sigh. The clarity she sought, which was niggling at the depths of her consciousness, just wouldn’t rise to the surface, wouldn’t reveal itself to her.
She, Blake and Zayla were still gathered around the small writing table, though they’d given up standing long ago, and now sat closely clustered together so everyone could see. Two maps lay unfurled and open on the table. One was the map they’d found, the other was five times its size, covering a vast area and showing an impressive level of detail. The larger map had been in the council lodge, but Zayla had removed it and brought it back to her cabin to study. They were searching for similar landmarks, trying to see where the smaller map fit with the larger. All they had to go on was the direction in which they’d found the body, and that wasn’t entirely helpful, as the Amazon could’ve taken many routes to get past, around or over the mountain.
Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, the map didn’t lead straight back to their doorstep. The parchment simply wasn’t big enough to show an expansive area of land. Their only option was to match the landmarks, so they could place the location that the map depicted.
Shale tapped her forefinger against her temple in annoyance, as if that would somehow release the memory she was seeking. She leaned back in her chair, purposefully glancing around to distract herself.
Zayla’s cabin was beautiful. It had the look and feel of a shrine. The many ornate carvings that were on prominent display looked like objects of worship--the devoted level of craftsmanship making them almost lifelike in their appearance. Though a lot of the carvings paid homage to the gods and goddesses, some portrayed woodland animals, and they were incredibly realistic. Each work of art had its own miniature shelf to sit on, and these small shelves were dotted all around the room, adorning each wall. No matter where your eyes fell in Zayla’s cabin, there was something wondrous to behold.
