"It's best you don't look. It's a grisly sight."
"Tell me what you see."
"Why do you want to know?" Nolo's eyes searched him. What did those dark eyes seek?
"I need to know." Sarn met his master's assessing stare. Let the man see he could handle this.
"Alright I see body parts scattered over—I'd say a ten-foot radius. And blood, lots of it coating leaf, branch, and ground."
"Body parts—you mean something ripped people apart?" Sarn's luminous gaze bounced to the trees surrounding them. Were their branches angled to attack?
"Yeah, but something impaled this man right through the chest. And the hole it gouged is too broad for a spearhead.” Nolo measured the hole with his black hand and struggled to cover the entire wound.
“You can’t bring steel in here. The forest doesn’t allow it.” Sarn moved upwind, staying clear of the black barrier, so the stench stopped causing his stomach to rebel. Its vile presence became opaque until he could not see his master anymore. What was this thing and what had created it?
Suppositions pummeled Sarn, but only one made sense. His gaze played green light over an oak whose crown brushed the hidden sky. Was he staring at one of the culprits?
Remembering the tensile strength of his leafy kidnapper, Sarn shuddered. Its smallest branch could have torn his limbs off. What had incited the trees to murder? Would they kill again? Had they brought him here to take back a warning?
What was the warning? Step out of line and die? Such a threat had always existed. The forest had three rules—respect them and live; ignore them and die. Which of the three rules had those people broken?
A branch tapped Sarn on the shoulder and pointed left. Was he about to receive an answer? He left Nolo squatting in death’s shadow.
Viscous darkness drilled through the forest, extending out from the murder site. Sarn paralleled it until an obstacle blocked his path. Ice skinned the tree and broke off when his shoulder brushed it leaving a weeping wound to drink the light his eyes produced.
Unnatural, whispered his magic before ducking out of the darkness’ reach.
Sarn nodded and kept going, following the stygian tendril deeper into the forest. Branches indicated another clearing where the cold darkness belled out into another dome. Horror constricted his throat, knotted his chest and cut his legs out from under him. How could this be? Sarn stretched out a shaking hand toward the body of a child dashed on the rocks.
His fingers punched through the barrier. Ice burrowed under his skin sucking out his heat. Magic sparked white, knocking his hand away.
Malevolence gathered around Sarn, imprisoning him in thickening shadows. They liquefied and clutched his hand freezing it as his index finger touched the boy’s ice-rimmed cheek. The veil became opaque, and the star in a circle icon blinked a red warning on his map. Why did it have thirteen vertices instead of the usual five or six?
Finding those sightless green eyes with his questing fingers, Sarn closed them. Something pricked the skin between his second and third knuckles. Ice slid into the wound as Sarn retreated from the dead and the black wall hiding them while cradling his injured hand. The tiny bite wept a single bloody tear, and in its wake, gray lines cross-hatched the back of his hand until a tongue of emerald flame burned them away.
A choked sob escaped his grief-tightened throat. The dead boy might have grown up to be just like him. Had someone killed the boy because his eyes promised magic? Deadly what ifs chased themselves around his mind while fear feasted on his heart.
Sarn didn’t see a roach crawl out of the darkness. He didn’t feel its malevolent interest bearing down on him as he folded, cut to the quick by what he’d seen and the questions tearing at his heart. Was his son next? The possibility terrified him.
Chapter 2
“It’s possible,” Nolo replied. “If you cover the weapon in a natural fiber, how would a bunch of trees know it’s there? If you don’t use the weapon, it’s not against the rules to carry it in here.”
Silence met Nolo’s words. The cloak-draped wraith had disappeared again. Nolo cursed. “Sarn? Where are you? You’re not supposed to wander off.”
Nolo punched the blood-spattered ground and rose from his crouch. What he’d found here asked more questions than it answered. All the victims wore sturdy clothing now torn and bloodied and cheap jewelry. In their pockets, he found a handful of small coins, but nothing of any real value. He estimated there had been four men and one woman, all torn apart.
The one thing he'd expected to find was absent. Either someone had escaped the carnage with it, or someone else had shown up afterward and stolen it. Either was possible. Last years’ leaves, now blood coated, carpeted the clearing but had taken no prints.
A keening sound sent Nolo hurtling toward its source. Less than a mile later, he crouched in front of Sarn. The Kid’s hands shook, suspended halfway between himself and a dead boy. Horror had shut off his reasoning.
Beyond the child lay two women and three men—all dead. Nothing had despoiled their bodies. They were whole, unlike the other site. The dead could wait, but Sarn could not.
Sarn had arrived six winters ago half dead from exposure with his brother in tow. Never had the Kid spoken about how he’d earned some of the scars marring his skin or his psyche. No, the stupid Kid bottled everything up until he imploded.
Worse still, the Kid refused to let him help. He waved a hand in front of the Kid’s radiant eyes. No response. He shook Sarn.
“What the hell is going on in your head right now?”
Sarn made no reply. His eyes put out enough light to reveal his face, making him look young and lost. The sight punctured Nolo’s heart, and it bled pity. Something the Kid would have scorned had he noticed.
Silver light bloomed around Nolo, and he turned to see what new trouble had come their way. Trees shifted aside, their crowns lowering in respect. Nolo stared as one of the most massive trees he'd ever seen propelled herself toward him. Beads of light danced up and down her pearlized trunk and her roots undulated in a silken train.
A tower of bark and patterns of light, she stood over one thousand-feet tall. Her trunk exceeded one hundred-feet in diameter. Logic claimed she should remain stationary, but logic held little sway over Shayari. Star-shaped leaves adorned her crown and dripped from every branch. From root to tip, she emitted a soothing white light.
Nolo stared at the Queen of All Trees. Her sightless gaze penetrated all the way to his core, leaving no part of him unexamined. He shuddered under the weight of her scrutiny.
The so-called Queen of All Trees regarded the Child of Magic. He was one of a precious few to survive to adulthood. She’d allowed these humans six of his years to do one thing, and they’d failed. Anger welled up directed at the Painted Man, but a glance quelled it. Written in his blood and bone was one purpose: to protect people, objects and places of power. He’d lived up to his ancestors’ promise, but the Child of Magic was still broken. In less than seven months, his magic would expand and kill him. She must save this walking loophole, this bringer of change.
She extended a radiant branch toward him and her power collected in a cloud of sparkling motes. She should take him away and find someone else to fix him, but something tied the Child of Magic to Mount Eredren.
The Queen of All Trees tested its tensile strength and found the bond to be stronger than her. Surprise made her roots lash out and claw the earth. Who had bound so powerful a mage?
A preternatural chill hung in the air. The souls of the slain floated, trapped between worlds, but she could do nothing for them. They too were tied to this place by treachery, violence, and death. Their entrapment had torn the world's fabric allowing the Adversary to peer through. And the Enemy was watching. Its evil eye fixed on her and her bark crawled in revulsion.
Shafts of black ice speared toward her and shattered when they met the half-dome of white light around her. Fool, you cannot harm me here. This is my fore
st. Silver roots lashed out batting aside the next volley. Extending her aura, she hid the Child of Magic. As her power built, the ground rumbled. She did not see the cockroach scuttling through the leaf mold toward the Black Ranger’s pocket intent on hitching a ride.
The earth under the Queen of All Trees’ roots shifted, translocating them away from the lingering stain of murder. When ensconced again in the power of growing things, she resumed her search. So secure a binding must have a compelling source. Untrained though he might be, the Child of Magic had wits and power enough to avoid bindings if he chose. Why had he accepted this yoke? Stretching out her magic again, she reached into the Child of Magic, to the heart where the tie originated.
Each link was a promise forged by magic and blood. Again, not a surprise since the magic took in everything and reacted to it. But the source, bless her bark—the Child of Magic had a son. What was the child of a living loophole—a larger loophole?
If the Child of Magic died before his son turned seven, the boy would die with him. She must prevent that, but how? The Queen of All Trees processed away. Through the magic, she had seen all she needed to see, but not the roach crawling out of Nolo’s pocket. Through its eyes, something else looked and laughed at how so small a thing could go unnoticed by the Witch Queen of Shayari.
Nolo sagged, relieved the Queen of All Trees had left. He swatted the bug scaling his thigh in disgust, sending it flying
Sarn blinked eyes filled with green fire at him. “What happened?”
Another slow blink returned the Kid's whites and pupils to their correct locations. Only his irises glowed green now.
Nolo shook his head “I’m not sure.” No doubt the commander would have some ideas. The entire incident unnerved Nolo. Or it did until the ground under his knees quaked.
“What now?” Nolo asked the general air around him. He caught a startled look from Sarn, and he moved a fraction of a second too slow. The Kid sprang to his feet and loped off without interference. Damn the Kid could move. Sarn ran as if the shaking ground provided no hindrance.
“Sarn—wait—stop!”
The stupid Kid followed neither order. Nolo hauled himself up and hurried to catch up.
Sarn ran back toward the bodies and the epicenter of the earthquake. On his head map, both were marked in red by a star with too many vertices. Dread dogged him. A branch shot out at chest level, and he struck it hard enough to bruise. Before he could move, more branches thrust themselves into his path weaving a cordon.
Beyond those branches, a veil of unnatural darkness rippled. Sarn's nose froze on contact with the alien substance. Stepping back, he rubbed his numb face. Light from his eyes stabbed at the barrier, but it failed to penetrate the stygian heat-sink. His head map unfurled and flashed a warning—an icon bearing a star inside a circle. It was the third time he'd seen it tonight. What did it mean?
Another branch thrust out, and it screamed as it touched the black dome in front of Sarn. Its bark grayed, and ice rimmed the pieces flaking off it. The limb bent and collided with his chest driving the breath from Sarn as it shoved him back. Magic shot out of his hands, and emerald light seeped into the injured branch. The tree stopped screaming as his magic pushed out the life-draining cold.
Beyond the dark barrier, the ground ripped open a chasm, toppling bodies into its heart—too many to count in the obscuring gloom. Something crawled up Sarn’s pant leg, but he ignored it as the dead child vanished under an expanding pile of dirt. Over it all, a red circle wrapped around a bleeding star. The image hammered at the box containing his most painful memories, then faded as the ground cracked spewing inky tendrils. They shot skyward, pushing against the trees rushing back in to cover the site where Fate knew how many people had died.
Where was that foul blackness going? Sarn lost sight of it when branches twisted into a net to capture the spewing horror. But somehow, it slipped through.
Eam’meye erator, chanted a fell chorus raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
His magic screamed, repeating the same word—unnatural—as if he needed the reminder. No doubt his magic wanted him to do something but what could he do? Was this unfolding horror heading toward his loved ones? What would happen when it reached them?
Skipping light as a windblown leaf over the still churning ground, Sarn ran, and the forest giants flashed past. Fear clenched his heart and fueled his run.
A rock wall loomed in front of Sarn, and he rushed headlong toward a vertical bar of black. Hold on, son. I'm coming.
Nolo ran after Sarn, but his charge outpaced him. He cursed as something blew past him, numbing the muscles it touched. Massaging his shoulder, Nolo worked some feeling back into it. He blinked to clear his eyes of the gray blob. For a second, the flying thing took on the rough outline of a child before it vanished behind a tree. He must have hallucinated it. There were no such things as ghosts.
Nolo picked up the pace to narrow the increasing lead the Kid had on him. What a marvel the troubled young man was. With his long, lean build, Sarn could outrun the wind. Magic lent the Kid a spider’s sure-footedness, allowing him to ignore the ground’s shaking.
Meanwhile, Nolo bounced off every damned tree he passed. Common sense urged him to stop until the ground stilled. Finding one extra tall kid with glowing green eyes in a dark forest should be easy unless something happened between then and now. And it would because the Kid had as much sense as a rock pile. Nolo cursed as he banged his shoulder into another tree.
The ground split ahead forcing him into a skid. He hit the edge and wavered there until a branch looped around his waist and yanked him backward. The earth in front of Nolo collapsed until a ravine opened. It spanned more than a hundred-feet separating him from a frozen Sarn. Bodies and body parts tumbled into the hole. Victims mingled with their murderers as both fell into the same chasm.
Roots scooped dirt back into place. Within minutes the ravine had buttoned itself up. Trees crawled back into place and all evidence of what had happened vanished. The branch released Nolo, and he fell to his knees. His palms struck the turned earth, but there was no sign of anything. The enchanted forest had wiped it all away.
“Why did you do this?” he asked the trees overshadowing him. They gave no response. He dug his fingers into the earth and rose, letting the dirt slide through his fingers. All chance of answers fell with it. “Why did you bring us here?”
The forest held its peace, but he’d expected silence. Trees might get up and walk around Shayari, but by the grace of God, they were still mute. Nolo scanned the shadows for the ever-present emerald glow of Sarn’s eyes and saw only shadows. “Sarn? Where are you?”
No answer. Nolo made a slow circuit of the area where he’d last seen the Kid and found no sign of him. Damn the canny boy. “Sarn this isn’t funny. Come out now. We need to leave the area. Sarn? Damn it Sarn!”
Nolo fell silent. Sarn was gone. Where the hell had the Kid ran off to now? He spent some time looking before giving up and heading back to rendezvous with Jerlo to make a report. The stupid Kid had better be back there cooling his heels.
Chapter 3
Sarn gave the tangled branches overhead one more glance, but his sight failed to pierce them to see what was happening above. Trees stood by watching him, no doubt waiting for him to make a move. Was this all a cruel game to them? Was the alien darkness their doing?
Could it cross the twin circles of menhirs? He couldn’t see them from here only sense their protective presence a half mile off. Before Sarn yawned a shaft leading into darkness so thick, it reminded him of the strange thing cupping the murder sites. Had it beaten him below?
Turning his back on the forest, Sarn vaulted onto a boulder. He dove through a cleft chiseled into the earth’s bones. The fire inside his eyes threw a nimbus around him, and it brightened as he tucked and tumbled. His sixth sense ballooned and bounced off seven people indicating a crowd below.
Sarn ground his teeth in annoyance. He'd esca
ped one set of witnesses and traded them for another. Who were these clowns and what were they doing?
The granite under their feet sensed him coming and turned malleable to absorb the kinetic energy of his fall. Sarn rolled toward his goal, scattering the witnesses in his path until his end-over-end run dumped him into an underground river. Cold water snuffed out his eyes’ glow and sapped his energy.
Surfacing, Sarn grabbed a quick breath and a glance at seven thunderstruck people. Shadows veiled them, hiding any identifying marks or insignia. Likely those fools belonged to a gang but which one? He tucked that mystery away for another time and submerged.
Rocks pounded the surface, and he wove around them as they sank. Damn it; he'd drawn too much attention with his stupid stunt. Sarn swam as the map sharing space in his head unfurled, painting luminous green ribbons in the riverbed. Magic pulsed in those lines, starting a sympathetic beat in his skull. As his heart picked up the tempo, the magic called to him deepening the trance until it had winnowed away all his concerns. His strokes slowed, his limbs grew heavy, and he plummeted toward the magic.
Free me. I am prisoned in the watery bed of mine enemy. Free me, sang the magic.
Sarn jabbed his fingers into the riverbed questing after the magic enthralling him. He must do as it commanded.
A mouthful of water broke the spell. Lungs screaming for air, Sarn clawed at the water until he breached the surface. Coughing, he grabbed hold of a passing stalagmite. Its cold, magic-less stone was the balm he needed as he vomited water mixed with stomach acid.
The Rangers were right about him after all. He’d proven he was every bit the idiot they thought he was. What did the magic care if it destroyed its host? It could get another one, but he had only one body. Pay attention. Another such distraction could be fatal.
Curse Breaker: Books 1-4 (Preview) Page 3
