The Druids' Legacy

by Trenna McMullin

  Nori frowned. The ease with which she contemplated murdering perfect strangers unnerved her. This was about justice. The others may be outlaws, but then, so technically was she, and all the other residents of Brume. She had no issue with them, only the one who had murdered Vivek and destroyed his house, endangering the rest of the town with the fire and causing her to lose face with the Scouts. He was the one she was after.

  The trouble was, he would likely be impossible to take in on her own. A man of his skill would not go quietly. Which meant her best course of action was to take him out from a distance...and that still left her with the problem of his companions. They were travelling with and protecting a murderer and arsonist. Whether they knew his crimes or not, they were unlikely to believe Norika’s word over the word of their companion. She could not depend on them to allow her to administer justice.

  Frustration made her tense involuntarily. The murderer would not escape his fate just because he had friends. She would find him, and regardless of who was with him, she would find a way to make him pay.

  * * * * *

  The sun was barely visible when Ky’ara and the others left the clearing and made their way back into the trees. An uneasy feeling hung over them. Maybe it was the possibility of encountering more trolls that bothered Ky’ara so acutely, but she just couldn’t escape the feeling that they were being watched. She glanced over at Joran. He didn’t seem particularly concerned about anything, but he rode silently, concentrating on the forest around them. Lauryn rode next to him, apparently unperturbed by his lack of conversation.

  There was no way to ride quietly through the undergrowth, the leaves rustled and sticks snapped loudly beneath their horses’ hooves. Each sound made Ky’ara wince, certain that they were attracting the attention of every beast within a hundred miles. Despite her concerns, the day passed without incident. Taren called for them to make camp not long after the sun started to descend behind the trees and shadows like skeletons stretched ominously across their path.

  “Do we risk a fire tonight?” Ky’ara asked, slipping her hand into Taren’s as she joined him where he stood contemplating the clearing where they’d decided to make camp. He shook his head.

  “We narrowly avoided at least two run-ins with trolls today. I’ve seen far too many signs of their passing to be comfortable revealing our presence just yet.”

  “What are we supposed to eat without a fire?” Lauryn asked, a little testily, from where she stood unpacking what little food they had stored in their saddlebags. She held a small bag of bruised apples in one hand and a few strips of dried meat in the other.

  “That’ll have to do for tonight,” Taren replied, “We can gather some berries in the morning, and maybe tomorrow afternoon we’ll be able to cook something.”

  She looked flabbergasted as he tugged the food from her grasp and started distributing the apples—one per person—to the rest of the group. Sukylar took his without comment and settled down against a tree trunk. Joran looked like he was about to say something, but a raised eyebrow from Taren was all it took to silence whatever argument had been on the tip of his tongue. Ky’ara was determined not to let it bother her, but the reality was that after such a meager dinner last night and almost nothing all day, her insides felt hollow and she was alarmingly lightheaded. She took the apple and tiny piece of meat that Taren offered her and then flushed with embarrassment as her stomach growled noisily. She couldn’t help noticing that Taren had kept only the smallest apple for himself.

  Lauryn stalked over to sit by Joran as she ate her apple, core and all, quicker than Ky’ara would have thought possible. When only the stem was left, she stuck the piece of meat in her mouth and chewed it with such vehemence that Joran stopped eating and looked over at her in surprise.

  “Are you alright?” He asked tentatively, edging ever-so-slightly away from the angry girl. Lauryn continued to glare in Taren’s general direction, and then in an instant the irritation seemed to flow out of her, and she turned to bury her head in Joran’s shoulder.

  Ky’ara couldn’t help smiling a bit at the look of shock and panic that crossed her Keeper’s face, though she was as perplexed by Lauryn’s behavior as he was. Then again, hunger could do strange things to a person’s emotions. The lack of food was making her feel tired and fuzzy and a little detached—apparently it was making Lauryn more emotional rather than less.

  Joran sat awkwardly for a moment, then tentatively put his arm around the girl. The other two men shifted uncomfortably and didn’t seem to know where to look. Ky’ara met Taren’s eyes, and he shrugged, looking only a little ashamed that somehow he’d upset the girl so deeply. Then he glanced at Ky’ara’s hands and frowned pointedly. She looked down to see what he was looking at, and realized that she hadn’t even attempted to eat yet. Somehow, despite her hunger, the food wasn’t at all tempting. She forced herself to take a bite of the apple and then another, her brain feeling sluggish.

  * * * * *

  Joran felt torn. On the one hand, having Lauryn turn to him for comfort made him irrationally happy. On the other, he was concerned by her odd behavior, and even more worried about the signals he was getting from Ky’ara. Apparently neither could handle the hunger they’d been subjected to after weeks in the wilderness.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he murmured to Lauryn, pulling her in just a little closer. Somehow having his arm around her felt...natural. It had only taken a moment for her to relax into the position, her head turned in against his collarbone, her shoulders soft under the weight of his arm. Normally she was so independent and confident; it was nice to know she might need him after all.

  The moment was over sooner than he would have liked. Lauryn sat up and pulled away slightly, self-consciously wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

  “Sorry. I’m fine. This kind of hunger just...brings back memories. I don’t mean to be difficult, I just...it takes me to a dark place.”

  Joran furrowed his brow for a moment, and then nodded as he processed her meaning. When they’d first met she had told him how she had lived on the streets for a few years as a child, before Myrnai had taken her in. Food would have been scarce for a six year old urchin, even one as enterprising as Lauryn. Hunger probably brought back the memory of struggling to survive...and of the reason she’d had to in the first place. Being abandoned by her parents had left a deep psychological scar, one that she usually kept buried. No wonder Taren’s semi-arbitrary decision to deny them a cooking fire had irritated her. She would do anything to avoid bringing up those memories.

  Joran deliberately shifted so he could make direct eye contact with the girl. Lauryn looked away almost immediately, fiddling with her boot laces to avoid the confrontation. Usually Joran would have taken the hint and given her some space, but he couldn’t let it go this time. He reached out and took her hands, stilling them and causing her to look up to meet his eyes again. Apparently he’d been entangled in Ky’ara’s emotions too much lately. Some of her and Taren’s mushiness was rubbing off on him.

  “I’d like my hands back, please,” Lauryn said tartly, trying halfheartedly to pull away, but he could hear the undercurrent in her voice. She didn’t want anyone to see how vulnerable she was feeling. He quirked the corner of his mouth into a playful smile.

  “Nope, sorry. They’re mine now.”

  She gave him an exasperated look, then shrugged and stopped struggling, a tiny smile fighting to replace her scowl. He glanced at the others, who seemed to suddenly be very busy preparing the camp for the night.

  “Just—remember that you aren’t alone,” he murmured, giving her hands a comforting squeeze before standing and moving to help Taren with the horses. Hunger gnawed at his stomach too, but either something about being a Keeper made him more resilient to its effects, or his concern over the girls distracted him enough to make it easier to deal with. Hopefully tomorrow they’d be able to have a small campfire—a hot meal could work wonders, even if it was meager.

  The night pas
sed slowly, with the three men keeping watch in shifts. Taren insisted that Joran’s body was capable of functioning off significantly less sleep now, and with a little training he’d be able to keep watch all night for days at a time with minimal effects on his mental and physical acuity. Joran wondered how true this could be when the older Keeper seemed to be having a harder time staying alert after only one night of no sleep...though Joran could remember other times when Taren had apparently stayed awake for days at a time with little to indicate he was tired. Maybe the extended time on the road and lack of good food was starting to affect him too.

  As for himself, Joran definitely felt tired. So tired sometimes he wished they could all just go back to Doraicolé and sleep for a month...but then, it was still sometimes difficult to separate what he felt and what he was sensing from Ky’ara. He didn't seem to have any trouble actually staying awake. Maybe that was a Keeper's curse—to still feel the weariness but somehow stay resistant to its effects.

  It seemed like there were just as many downsides to this job as there were perks. Sometimes he wasn't sure he liked the fact that he hadn't had any choice in the matter. Although being able to use magic...that was definitely a plus. Not that he'd been able to actually use it much since going on the run. But still, he'd always been a little jealous of Calistra. It had been gratifying to finally be able to do some of the things she had always lorded over him. He fell asleep musing about the differences in their relationship now that he was worth more to the organization than just a convenient message boy.

  The next day passed in much the same manner as the previous one. Despite their seeming evasion of the trolls, Joran couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed. Once, he would have chalked such a feeling up to paranoia, but the more he learned about being a Keeper, the more he started to trust those kinds of instincts. He'd have to be on his guard.

  * * * * *

  Norika watched her quarry from the safety of the trees. She’d caught a glimpse of them early in the day, and had adjusted her course so that she could find a good spot to observe. All afternoon she’d been hiding in the shadows of the giant evergreens, waiting and learning what she could by watching their minute interactions as they travelled nearer. It didn’t take her very long to determine that there was no way she could take them all on her own. The other man had a dangerous air about him, and Nori knew better than to underestimate the woman, especially since she carried a sword as naturally as though she’d worn it her whole life. Those two, at least, were dangerous.

  She wasn’t too concerned about the two youth, but they were extra variables to account for. So it surprised her when the boy stopped suddenly and peered through the trees in her direction. Had she made a noise? No. Other than her shallow breathing and the quiet thumping of her heart, she was silent. She hadn’t moved an inch since the little group had come into view around the last bend in the path. Likely he’d heard something else.

  Trying to relax, Norika studied the man who had killed Vivek. The man who had cost her everything. He walked with ease through the heavy underbrush, clearly an experienced woodsman. She’d expect nothing less from someone who had trained in Luoth. She furrowed her brow. Her assessment of him was somewhat of a contradiction. Although he moved with a warrior’s grace, he didn’t seem like a killer. He carried paired Khathan blades—refined weapons, usually favored by those who preferred to work with finesse. Vivek’s murder had been brutal and bold, messy in a way she wouldn’t have expected from an Elysian-trained warrior. For a moment her resolve faltered. Maybe there was more going on here than she knew.

  Suddenly he turned and flashed a grin at one of his companions and, irrationally, her anger reasserted itself. How DARE he act so...so blasé, when her whole life had been destroyed for trusting him. Enough watching. It was time to finish this.

  She would have to be fast, at their last encounter, in Brume, he had dodged her arrow. She picked up a small stone in one hand, then raised the small crossbow and sighted carefully. One slow breath in. Hold. She whipped the stone into the trees to his left, and then pulled the trigger, exhaling softly. He turned to search for the source of the sound just as her crossbow bolt buried itself in a tree inches from his head.

  Norika cursed. How had she missed? The boy bent, retrieving something from the ground...a knife? Had he really just deflected her quarrel? No one could possibly react that quickly....She cursed under her breath. The man-with-too-many-weapons was headed her way, fast. There was little chance she could defeat him before his friends came to help. She fled.

  * * * * *

  Taren dashed into the trees, his eyes scanning the foliage for signs of whoever had fired at them. Trolls didn’t use crossbows, at least not that he’d ever seen...There! A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he rounded a tree trunk just in time to catch a glimpse of their attacker. A child? No...an Elysian. That made no sense at all. Few Elysians ever wandered down from their mountain sanctuaries, those who did were generally associated with the rebellion. Why would one be trying to kill them now?

  He increased his speed, leaping over fallen logs and dodging trees, trying to keep sight of the small figure that raced ahead of him, negotiating the obstacles with ease. He rounded a tree trunk and skidded to a stop. The forest ahead of him was empty. Where had she disappeared to?

  Taren closed his eyes and bent to touch the ground. Nothing. He must be too tired and distracted...either that, or the land was protecting her. He straightened and looked around once more, then turned and walked briskly back to where he’d left the others.

  “No luck?” Sukylar asked when Taren emerged from the trees. The Keeper shook his head, troubled. He walked over to where Joran was examining the bolt he’d deflected. The boy handed him the projectile and shrugged.

  “Any idea who would’ve shot that?”

  “The bolt is not a style I’m familiar with, but I was able to see who shot it. An Elysian woman...I’ve no idea how old though, I couldn’t see her face. Could’ve been a man I guess...but usually they’re a little taller.”

  Sukylar cocked his head to the side and gave the bolt a quizzical look. “Huh, that’s odd.”

  Both Keepers looked up at him for further clarification.

  “The fletching is unique to the border patrol in Brume...I had one just like it shot at me about a month ago, when I went to see my contact there. But why would a Scout be all the way out here?”

  “Following you, apparently,” Joran said, “This thing would’ve buried itself in your skull if I hadn’t deflected it. Anyone in Brume want you dead?”

  Sukylar shrugged. “They’re not exactly a friendly bunch, so probably a few...but none with grudges worth following me for weeks.”

  “Whoever it was, they’re gone now,” Taren said, his gaze drifting in the direction the woman had run. Why hadn’t he been able to track her? He tuned back in to what the others were saying.

  “—worth following her?” Joran was asking.

  “I think we just need to get out of this forest as quickly as possible,” Ky’ara said, “I’m tired of running and hiding from things.”

  “That’s not really going to change once we get out of the trees. In fact, it’ll probably get worse,” Taren pointed out, “We’ll have to avoid entering any large towns or lingering in anyplace we could be recognized. Plus we don’t even know where the rebels are...they may have already started the invasion. We don’t have time to go all the way back to Doraicolé, but with the difficulty we had in the last town we were in, can we trust that any of the organization’s safehouses this far from their base are even functioning anymore?”

  “I’d say we could stop in Brume to resupply and get information, it’s not actually very far...but without knowing why a Scout is after us…”

  “You, not us,” Joran interjected.

  “...after me,” Sukylar amended, narrowing his eyes slightly in the boy’s direction, “It probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Especially since there is a rather large reward
for our capture. Most people there hate the kingdom enough to help us just out of spite, but there are bound to be opportunists that might try using us as collateral for negotiating their own pardons…”

  “What are we supposed to do then?” Lauryn jumped into the conversation. “We can’t stop for supplies or try to send a message, we can’t go all the way back to Doraicolé even if we could live off what we scavenge, and we can’t just wander around in the forest forever! Did you even have a plan for after you found Eléirathös, Ky’ara?” The girl’s tone increased in volume until she was nearly shouting.

  Ky’ara opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it, unsure of what to say. She didn’t have an answer. Her plan for after Eléirathös had been to reunite with the rebels and do whatever it was they needed to do to defeat the Destroyer. Their near capture in Vere had made the first part of that plan much more tricky to achieve, and—despite everything she had learned in the City of the Druids—she still had no idea how to accomplish the second.

  “I think we need to just spend some time considering our options,” Joran said, resting a hand on Lauryn’s arm, “Let’s get going again before something decides to come investigate the ruckus we’ve been making. We don’t know if there are still trolls hunting for us nearby.”

  The girl shook off his hand angrily and walked to her horse, muttering something about the futility of doing anything until they knew where they were actually going.

  Joran shrugged apologetically at Ky’ara, who sighed wearily and turned her horse to follow Taren.

  Chapter 3: Invisible Shadows

  A dark pall hung over the little group that afternoon. It was too early in the season for there to be much to forage other than berries and a few straggly greens, and without a fire to cook with, they couldn’t eat any of the game that crossed their path. Hunger made it difficult to focus, and Ky’ara found herself constantly recircling the same thoughts. Where could they go without getting captured? Why were they being followed by someone who wanted to kill Sukylar? How could she possibly find a way to defeat the Destroyer before the deadline Arys had imposed?