Aster Wood series Box Set

by J B Cantwell

  “Hey,” I said quietly, nearly a croak. Then I heard my voice rising in panic. “Hey, kid!” I shook him, trying to get his attention, to get him to listen. His head bobbed back and forth as if the muscles in his neck were gone. I felt hot tears on my cheeks in my panic. “Kid! You gotta wake up!”

  He looked at me then, his black eyes staring blankly back. He opened his mouth and I saw rows and rows of jagged teeth. He hissed and snapped his jaws, trying to bite at the exposed flesh of my arms. I let his shoulders go and jumped backwards, knocking into another child, who hit the floor and then hissed as the other had.

  Suddenly, Rhainn burst through the opening to the tent.

  “Aster, get out of this place!” he shouted as he blew past me. But he didn’t follow his own advice. He ran down the aisle towards a little girl at the front, not more than five or six years old, her brown hair snarled and stinking. His arms stretched out for her, as if his desperation would be enough to elongate them enough to grasp her, to free her. She turned to him, opened her mouth showing him her own rows of deadly fangs.

  The figure at the front needed only to raise a finger.

  And Rhainn was suddenly no longer. Like the pieces of Grandma’s farmhouse in my dream, the tiny bits of him that remained floated down on top of the other children. They lifted their heads, opening their mouths wide, sucking in the air as the remnants reached them.

  A wave of freezing air moved over my skin, but I was surprised that terror wasn’t the only emotion I felt. Mixing with it now was something new.

  Outrage.

  I ran for him, put all I had into reaching him. I would rip him to shreds. My bare hands seemed like the perfect tool for doing so. But just as I hadn’t been able to move away from the tent as I had stood outside, now I wasn’t able to make any ground towards him. I moved my legs faster, but my feet couldn’t find traction, and I barely moved an inch.

  Then, he slowly raised one finger and pointed it in my direction.

  No.

  It wasn’t possible. I wasn’t going to lose this fight, I was determined about that. I curled my fingers up as they were blown to ash, trying to grip onto them, to keep them in one piece. And then I fell, just like Rhainn, in a million tiny pieces to the wide open mouths below.

  Chapter 20

  I never saw his face.

  And when the vision was over and I came back to consciousness, my hands gripped nothing but the fine dust on the floor of the church. The ashes slipped through the cracks between my fingers, impossible to ever put back together again. It only took me a moment to realize it hadn’t been real, that it had only been a vision in my head and I was still in one piece. I was in no danger here.

  But others were, somewhere not too far away. Maybe what I had seen had been real, or maybe it had only been a hint of what was going on back at the army camp, but I felt certain that the kids back in that tent were being tortured. Right now.

  I scrambled to my feet, suddenly furious and determined. Crane’s whines reached fever pitch, and he barked at me, frustrated and scared.

  I burst from the church, grabbed him in one hand and Kiron’s link in the other, and jumped away without a backward glance.

  We jumped again and again, not stopping once for rest, despite the long distance we had to travel. It wasn’t until we had been at it for several hours that I slowed down, allowed myself to study the terrain, searching for the path towards Stonemore. Crane took each of these opportunities to plop down at my side, panting with exhaustion.

  But I had a fire under me this time, a new urgency that propelled me forward, my own fatigue unnoticed.

  Stonemore lay within a small valley, surrounded on all sides by low hills, encircling it like the rim of a bowl. Beyond it, the foothills of a vast mountain range sprang up from the earth, growing taller and taller until mountains upon mountains were layered together, each one larger than the last. I scoured the land for those mountains. I could make my way back to Kiron and the others if I could just find those jagged gray peaks.

  It wasn’t until we landed on top of a large, rocky bluff that I discovered the mountains, unexpectedly, beneath my feet. I spun, quickly finding the tallest of the peaks, and headed off in the opposite direction, towards the base of the mountains below. We jumped only twice before we were out of the range, but our landing spot was anywhere but safe.

  Several hundred feet away, the army was amassed, and they were on the move. I held Crane’s body back, tried to shush the low growls that came from his throat. They weren’t close enough to see me, but they were too close for me to breathe. Now I knew what direction to head in, but time was even shorter than I had imagined. They were on their way, taking the last march before battle would erupt at the gates of Stonemore.

  Or maybe, I thought, there would be no battle at all. If Kiron and the group hadn’t managed to free the citizens from the spell that permeated the city, none but the handful of men I had met would stand to fight. I suddenly realized just how unlikely it was that they had succeeded in so few days’ time.

  I considered scooping up Crane and running for it. These men couldn’t catch me, not on their best day. But if I did, it would raise the alarm that somebody on the outside knew about their approach. Instead, I pointed the link in the same direction they traveled in, and jumped one last time.

  What I saw when I landed, I did not expect.

  Fire.

  After jumping all day, with such focus and purpose, I now found myself stunned, thunderstruck by the impossibility of what I was seeing. The entire city was engulfed in hungry red flame. It seemed that every rooftop blazed, and the soot from the remains rained down on us as we stood outside, watching it all go up in a terrible inferno.

  We were on the backside of the city, away from the main gate. Through the smoke pouring from the rooftops, I searched the hills on the other side where I had met Kiron’s group. But the light was fading, and I could make out little in the haze.

  Then, a horrible question made my entire chest clench into a pain so sharp I thought I would fall to the ground with it.

  What if they were all in there?

  I began to run, at first slowly, as if plowing through deep water in a dream. Then faster, needing to see the truth now, needing the pain of this disaster to stop, praying there would be relief on the other side. Crane followed, but too far behind. I couldn’t bring myself to care that he might be lost, too forlorn at the thought of the death of every friend I had ever known.

  I rounded the first corner. Before me stretched out the next long, square side of the wall, the ground on the outside of it as empty as the first. I pushed harder, flying now, unwilling to believe that this was the end, that I would have to face the rest of my life and journey alone.

  Tears streamed down my face, and I barely breathed despite my speed. Then I turned the next corner, and my chest released.

  Pouring through the gates, escaping their fiery fates, were the people. Kiron and Finian were both visible at the largest opening to the city, shepherding the citizens out. They were too far for me to hear their words, but their voices boomed across the crowd, pushing them to move faster.

  “Kiron!” I shouted as I sped towards him. He didn’t hear me over the screams of the panicked crowd. I yelled again, and he looked my way. Surprise registered on his face for a moment, but he quickly regained his head.

  “Get inside!” he yelled. “Stay low and find anyone you can! Tell them to get out!”

  I was so relieved at the sight of him that I didn’t even question his request. I shoved my way through the frenzy and broke through to the interior of the city.

  Dark smoke blanketed the streets, making only the running legs of escapees visible through the thick fog. Almost immediately, I stared coughing. But the staff stayed slippery in my hand, and I didn’t stop.

  “Get down!” I yelled to everyone I passed. I, myself, crouched as low as I could as I ran. “Head to the main gates! Stay low! Crawl if you have to!”

  As I
moved through the city, the painted facades of the buildings glowed strangely in the firelight. On the ground, crawling towards their escape, the faces of the people looked shocked and confused. The brightly colored dresses of the women dragged along the dirty cobblestones, where the ash from the rooftops above floated innocently down to rest. Maybe, I thought, they had just been having a grand party, only to be awakened from their trances to the sight of their homes engulfed in flame.

  The important thing is that they’re awake.

  And I suddenly realized that I felt no effect of the curse that had hovered over the city days before. I wondered what the group had done to dispel the sickly sweet haze. I looked up, saw the flames shooting into the night sky, and thought I knew.

  I passed by a man who stood leaning against a building, clutching his chest with both hands. I ran up to him and grabbed his arms, yanking him to the ground where the air was clearer.

  “You have to stay low,” I said, trying to get him to look at my face. His was lost in a fog of confusion. “Hey,” I said, shaking him by the shoulders. “Hey, look at me.” With great effort, he directed his eyes to my face. “There are people at the main gate. The air is good down here. Don’t stand up. Alright?”

  Tears ran down his cheeks, and he wiped them away with sooty hands. He nodded.

  “Go. Now.”

  He rolled over onto all fours and began the long crawl out of the blaze.

  I turned and continued on, soon coming to the main square. It was deserted, but here, with no rooftops on fire, the air was clearer. I gulped it in, my lungs grateful for the relative coolness of it. I turned in a circle, searching for anyone left behind.

  A flutter of movement caught my eye, so small that at first I thought it must be Crane, the stupid dog, having come look for me. But as I approached, I realized with horror that it was a child. Barely audible above the roar of the fire, his lonely cries called out hopelessly for help.

  I bolted to him, the desire for clean air forgotten. How could he have been left behind? Where were the people who were responsible for his little life? He shrunk back as I approached. I didn’t bother talking. I just knelt down and scooped him into my arms and ran for the exit.

  His little face was smeared with tears and black ash, and his yellow shirt was torn, blood spattered from his scraped elbow.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” I said, willing myself to believe it, too.

  We neared the gate, where several stragglers were staggering through. I gripped the arm of a man, standing tall amidst the smoke. I handed him the boy.

  “Take him,” I commanded, thrusting the toddler into his arms. He looked down at me, confused. “He’s got nobody. You take him. Get him out.” I pointed to the gate where Kiron was just visible through the smoke. He stared, trying to work out what I was asking of him. Then, after several painfully long moments, he seemed to understand, and he nodded.

  I turned and ran back into the city, suddenly fearful for all of the other little souls that might have been hiding, or lost, or missing in the unknown places inside. But I found no others. Eventually, I stopped running, instead dragging my feet up and down every street, searching every corner. For hours I wandered, looked inside every door, desperate to find every person, convinced that somewhere inside other children were waiting to be found. I thought of the vision I had had earlier, of all those kids sitting on the floor, under the control of the Coyle. I rubbed my hands together, remembering the sensation from the vision of my fingers turning to dust. My fingers were as solid as they had ever been, but I found myself checking every couple of minutes, unable to force the memory out of my mind.

  Finally, when the earliest of the morning light began to brighten the haze of smoke that no longer burned black, I fell, coughing, to the ground. Above me, the fires were finished, leaving only the outer structure of the stone city standing. Gentle crackling of the remaining tinder echoed in the deserted streets, quietly singing me to sleep. Slowly, the world around me started to darken, and the nightmarish view of the long, thin finger of the Coyle faded as a deep, thick blanket of unconsciousness crept up over me. Then, the strange world of Aeso dissolved completely, and I saw no more flame, terror, or monster.

  Chapter 21

  “He’s lucky.”

  The voice came from overhead, but I couldn’t see who from. I became aware of a dull throbbing in my head, and I grimaced at the unwelcome pain. Sticking into my back, I could feel several sharp objects, and I wriggled to try to make the irritation stop.

  “Someone go get the old man,” another voice said. “He’s waking up.”

  I was lying on the ground, but it was no longer the hard cobblestone of Stonemore. A large tree towered above, along with several curious people, their faces lined with concern. I dug my hand beneath my back and pulled out a twig the size of a pencil sticking into me. I rolled onto my side and coughed loudly.

  It was over. The people of Stonemore stood, shellshocked and silent, in large groups along the hillsides above the city.

  Somebody stepped into the way of my view and knelt down.

  “Here, boy,” a woman said, holding a cup of water to my lips. I took a tentative sip, then gulped it greedily. My head gave an unhappy squeeze, but I felt better, and my coughing subsided.

  “You could’ve got yourself killed,” came Kiron’s growling voice behind me. I carefully pushed myself up to sitting, readying myself for his lecture.

  But it didn’t come. Instead, he knelt down as the woman had, placed one hand on my shoulder and smiled.

  “You made it back,” he said, relief clear on his face.

  I nodded, overwhelmed. I didn’t know where to begin.

  Then the barking started, and soon I was tackled by the great mass of Crane. He whined and licked at my face as if determined to rid it permanently of all evidence of the fire.

  “Get off, you dumb dog,” Kiron said, grabbing him by the scruff and hauling him back. Then he looked back to me. “Larissa, then?”

  I nodded again. “Owyn’s dead,” I said. His brows furrowed. He looked down at the staff, which was laid next to me on the ground. I grabbed onto his arm. “They’re coming.”

  “Our scouts saw ‘em yesterday,” he said. “That’s why we had to set the fire.”

  “So you did set the fire,” I said.

  He stood up and held out a hand to me.

  “We discovered it a few days ago. The people around the fires were less confused.” I took his hand and got to my feet. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. “We tried just grabbin’ ‘em, kickin’ ‘em like before, but it wasn’t enough. This was the only way. Otherwise that army would’ve taken the whole city.”

  “So you burned the city so they wouldn’t want it?” I asked.

  “No, you idiot,” his more familiar, irritated tone was returning. “The place is made outta rock. We knew it would survive. It was the people we were taking the chance on.”

  I remembered the little boy in the yellow shirt, and I struggled to stay standing.

  “Did everyone make it?” I asked. “Did they all get out?”

  He shrugged.

  “It’s a big city,” he said. “And we didn’t have a count before we started. But I think they did.” He inclined his head towards the crowds gathered on the hillsides. “Either way, more survived this way. It woulda been a slaughter with everyone outta their minds.” His face betrayed his worry as he surveyed the crowd.

  “I didn’t get it,” I blurted. “The gold. She had him possessed. Owyn. It was a trap the whole time.”

  His face hardened at this, his teeth gritted.

  “Damn,” he finally said.

  “Kiron!” a voice shouted from somewhere in the crowd.

  The people on the nearest hillside started at the sound, turning to face it and then backing away as its maker made his way through them. The looks on their faces ranged from terror to confusion, and they huddled together in tight little groups, as if expecting attack at any moment. Nobody lo
oked happy about being freed from the curse. My heart fell. How were we going to rally these broken people to fight?

  Chapman emerged from the crowd, waddling in our direction, sweat pouring down his bald head. It was him who had spoken.

  “They’re coming,” he said urgently. “We have to move.” He looked at me, unsurprised, but unable to smile a welcome.

  All signs that Kiron had ever smiled a single time in his long life were extinguished from his face. He turned to me.

  “You come with me.”

  He walked briskly up the hill, dragging me behind him in his wake. Chapman fell into step beside me then, and held out his hand with the greatest gift he could have offered at that moment.

  The staff.

  “You’ll have to tell me the story,” he said, his face grim as he passed me the wood. I realized his eyes were brimming with tears.

  “Chapman?” I asked.

  He glanced up briefly, then sniffed deeply.

  “We were friends,” he said, his voice trembling. “After we broke out of the dungeons the second time, there was a time when Owyn, Kiron and I were friends. He could make me laugh so.” He removed a blackened handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed at his nose.

  I looked down at the wood in my hands and wished I had something nice to say about Owyn. It wasn’t his fault he had been taken over by the Corentin, after all. But his betrayal still stung, and the truth was I was relieved that he was no longer walking among us.

  When we crested the top of the hill, Kiron stopped and turned back to us. He drew in a long breath, holding it for several seconds, then let it out in a slow huff.

  “Ideas?” he asked Chapman.

  Chapman fiddled with the dirty handkerchief, rubbing it along his wet forehead vigorously. Of all of us, he had lived in Stonemore the longest. But he looked almost as stunned as the other refugees of the city, and offered no advice.

  Kiron turned away, but I shot my hand out, grabbing him by the shoulder.