The Arcane Ward

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The Arcane Ward Page 6

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek


  “Yes, but not from each other.”

  He laughed. “Still, I prefer to unveil my inventions when they are complete and not before then.”

  Quinn turned toward the Atrium again. “The lift you created is quite impressive. You continue to find uses for your discovery.”

  “Chaos Conduction.” The discovery frequently occupied Everson’s mind. “Having access to an energy source like that changes everything. We can create things that move on their own…but that is just the beginning. I believe there are uses for it we have yet to discover.”

  “Well, if anyone can find a way, I place my bets on you.”

  “You are too kind…and you’re my sister, which skews your perspective. The other gadgeteers here are brilliant as well. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have been brought on as wardens.”

  The creations Everson had seen in the Forge still amazed him, as did the application of Chaos to enhance them. However, he had been tasked with finding ways to utilize Chaos Conduction and had not yet been exposed to the secret of enchanting. All he knew is that it remained among the most closely kept secrets in ICON.

  Quinn pushed herself from the table and rose to her feet. “I need to rehearse for my next performance.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.”

  Quinn snorted. “I hope I won’t get tripped up by anything this time.”

  “You’ve improved each week. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance as she headed toward the exit. “If you aren’t busy, I will stop by in an hour and we can go to dinner together.”

  “I would be happy to join you. I’ve been feeling kind of lonely. With Jonah gone, the apartment seems so…empty.”

  Stopping with her hand on the door, Quinn said, “I wonder how they’re doing…and if they’re safe.”

  “I hope so, but the mission sounded dangerous. With more than a dozen deaths now tied to this thing, hunting it down and destroying it certainly seems necessary.” Everson took a deep breath. “What worries me is that, sometimes, the hunter becomes the hunted.”

  9

  Vallerton

  Chuli Ultermane rolled her eyes as Jonah rattled on with his complaints.

  “…think I will ever be able to sit again. Why don’t they make these saddles with more padding?” he groaned.

  Wyck, who rode at ease in the saddle, turned to look back at Jonah. “Are you sure you’re a warden? If so, I didn’t realize that we had ones who specialized in whining.”

  Chuli covered her mouth to hide her smile but the hunch of her shoulders revealed the laughter she tried to conceal. Over the past ten weeks, she had grown to like Everson’s roommate. Two days of riding had erased much of that feeling. In obvious misery, Jonah’s usual clever quips had been reduced to a string of complaints that wore on her – and, apparently, on Wyck as well. Somehow, Thiron seemed to ignore the boy.

  Amazingly, Jonah didn’t reply to Wyck’s comment. When Chuli looked back, she found Jonah frowning, his face shadowed by his hood. Despite the warm day, he wore his travel cloak with the hood up, claiming that he burned quickly because of his red hair and skin tone. Chuli shook her head when she spotted Jonah’s white knuckles gripping the reins. How can these silly outlanders not know how to ride? You’d think we were moving at an urgent gallop rather than an easy trot. They crested a hilltop for their first view of the valley beyond.

  Pines covered the foothills before them – pines standing a fraction of the size of the ones they had passed. The Red Towers still amazed her. When Jonah had first described the massive trees, she had been reluctant to believe him…until they reached the edge of that wood. Chuli had never been among trees that made her feel so tiny, so insignificant. They were towering monoliths that had existed before man ever stepped foot in their shadows, and they would likely remain long after mankind faded from Issalia.

  Without the use of a bridle, she guided her mount with the pressure of her knee, and Rhychue shifted accordingly, giving her a better view of the mining town below. Vallerton, she thought.

  With Thiron in the lead, the riders continued down the road as it descended into the valley. The ranger was a quiet one, even compared to the Tantarri. At thirty-six summers, Thiron Hawking was the eldest in the group, twice the age of Chuli and Jonah and ten years Wyck’s senior. As the most seasoned, he had the honor of leading the mission, one that suited his skills well. Like Chuli, he wore a full quiver over one shoulder and a longbow over the other. The dark-skinned man’s eyes searched the surrounding woods, watching warily. From the side, his hooked nose reminded Chuli of a bird of prey, as did his intense glare.

  Motion from Wyck drew her attention as he took a drink from his water skin. Tall and blond with dark scruff on his face, Chuli thought that the man might be attractive if not for his arrogance. Like Thiron, Wyck was dressed in a sleeveless brown leather jerkin, but his exposed arms were thickly muscled and marked by visible scars. The shield on his back, longsword on his hip, and bracers on his wrists made it clear that his skills were different from those of the ranger.

  She turned her attention toward the sun, now past the mid-point in the sky. With an early start from Selbin, they had made good time, affording the party hours of daylight after their arrival.

  As the ground leveled, the first building came into view. Built of logs, the house and neighboring shed stood beside a field fenced by split logs. Freshly cut rails revealed a section recently repaired. A small herd of cattle – white with black spots – huddled at the edge of the field as they ate in the cool shadow of nearby trees. A man emerged from the shed wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Upon seeing the horses, the man stopped and stared toward them. Jonah waved and the man waved back. Chuli considered waving, but rather than mimic Jonah, she held back like Thiron and Wyck and instead turned away.

  Other buildings soon came into view as the party emerged from the forest and entered the mining town. Built of logs and aligned in rows, the small houses mirrored one another, as if all were built by the same person. When they crossed a road that led east, Chuli saw a sprawling excavation cut into a hillside marked by red-tinted rock. The ore mine, she nodded, knowing she was correct. A fair portion of the ore used to forge steel came from Vallerton.

  The houses gave way to larger buildings, mostly storefronts with second-story apartments, all lining the dirt road. A wooden path, covered by an awning, connected the buildings and ran the length of the street. Chuli noted a cobbler, a baker, a butcher, a tailor, an apothecary, a glass blower, and an inn – all typical businesses in one place. At the end of the street was a building with black smoke rising from its chimney. The ring of a hammer carried from the interior, informing Chuli that it was a smithy.

  Thiron pulled on his reins and guided his horse toward the inn. The sign above the awning depicted a bucket and the words Wishing Well Inn. He dismounted and tied his stallion to the hitching post, Wyck doing likewise. When Chuli settled on the ground, she patted Rhychue and spoke quietly.

  “Remain here.” She pointed toward the trough, half-full. “Drink some water. I won’t be long.”

  “I still don’t think that horse knows what you’re saying.” Jonah grimaced and slid off his horse.

  “If she doesn’t understand, why does she do as I say?”

  Rubbing his backside with one hand and holding the reins with his other, he turned toward her. “Perhaps she does it out of habit…or training. Someone has to train your horses, right?”

  “Tantarri horses do not require training. They grow with the Tantarri, as the Tantarri grow with them.”

  Jonah snorted. “I should have known you would have an odd response.”

  Chuli smiled. “Odd is a matter of perspective.”

  He gave her a wry smile in return. “True.”

  “If you two are through, we should secure rooms.”

  Hearing Thiron speak, Chuli turned toward him and nodded. He climbed the two steps to the wooden platform in front of the building and entered
the inn with the other three close behind.

  Four small windows along the front offered dim light to the inn’s interior. A dozen tables occupied a common room with a stone fireplace at one end, a bar at the other. Now at the midpoint between lunch and dinner, the room stood empty and quiet.

  With Wyck beside him – the big man’s hand resting on the pommel of his sword – Thiron headed toward the bar. Chuli and Jonah followed, him still rubbing his backside while she restrained a chuckle. Other than Jonah, the group looked like hunters, which was the point.

  Thiron knocked on the bar and called out. “Hello!”

  “On my way.” A voice carried from beyond the back door to the room.

  A moment later, a man emerged. He was balding atop his head, surrounded by a ring of short brown hair and a beard to match. Of average height, the portly man weighed much more than average. He gave them a grin as he wiped his hands on his apron, leaving streaks.

  “I’m Barley, the inn’s owner. What can I do for you?”

  Thiron replied, “Well met, Barley. We’re in need of rooms for a night or two. Meals are required as well.”

  The man nodded. “We have two rooms vacant.”

  Thiron glanced at Chuli. “Can you fit three of us into one of them?”

  “Yes. I’ll have my daughter bring up a cot.”

  “Fine. How much per night?”

  Barley’s eyes shifted as he considered his response. “Two silvers per night.”

  Wyck slammed his hand on the bar, and Barley jumped with a yelp. “Are you trying to rob us? Should we get the constable?”

  “Um…I…” Barley stammered while kneading his thick hands. “I meant one silver per night and was assuming you were staying two nights.”

  Thiron planted a silver piece on the bar. “Done.”

  Wyck grinned, the expression lacking humor. “Where can we find the constable, anyway?”

  “But, but…” Barley stuttered.

  “Don’t worry.” Thiron said. “We’re hunters, here to take down the beast that has been wreaking havoc in the area. We wish to speak to the constable for information.”

  Barley exhaled and wiped his brow. “Well, then. You’ll find the keep at the south end of town, past the smithy.”

  Thiron said, “Very well. We will be back soon. Have our rooms ready.”

  He spun about and crossed the room while Wyck lingered, grinning at the barkeep. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Before the man could respond, Wyck slammed his hand on the bar again and the barkeep jumped with a start. Wyck then spun around and headed outside to join Thiron while Chuli and Jonah trailed behind.

  Rather than riding, Thiron led his horse by the reins and headed south. The others did the same, save for Chuli, who simply held her palm against Rhychue’s neck as she walked.

  When they circled the smithy, they spotted a building made of stone. A wooden palisade encircled the building, the logs sharpened to points at the top. The gate stood open, so Thiron led them through and found a hitching post in the courtyard, already occupied by a piebald mare. They tied their horses up and approached the dark green door at the front.

  Thiron’s knock echoed inside. A moment later, the door opened, revealing a tall, thin man holding a sword.

  “Greetings,” Thiron gave the man a nod. “I’m seeking the constable.”

  “I’m Constable Hardy. State your business.” Something about the man’s tone seemed forced.

  “We’re hunters. We hear there’s a bounty.”

  The man’s blue eyes shifted to look beyond Thiron, landing on Jonah. “He doesn’t look like a hunter.”

  Thiron looked back and shook his head. “No. He certainly does not.” He turned back to the man. “Among other things, the boy is our cook. He’s not very good at it, but he’s my sister’s whelp, and I promised to give him a job and to attempt to keep him out of trouble.” Thiron leaned closer and whispered just loud enough for Chuli to hear. “The kid is a thief. He’ll steal the smallclothes right off you while you’re asleep if you’re not careful.”

  Hardy scowled when Jonah pulled a coin from his pocket and began flipping it across the back of his hand, the coin dancing from finger to finger.

  “He best not steal while he’s in Vallerton.”

  “I’m trying to change his ways, good sir.” Thiron replied. “I’ll keep him busy, so he won’t have time for mischief.”

  “Good. See that you do.” The man eyed Thiron. “Now, about this bounty. I assume you’ve heard the stories?”

  Wyck leaned against the wall and gave the man a look that said everything. “Surely, you can’t believe all that rubbish.”

  “I wish it were otherwise…but I’ve seen it.” The man’s face took on a haunted look. “The beast is massive, fast…evil. Vernon’s farm, just north of town…it attacked there a few weeks back. Tore up three cows and left only parts behind. Broke his fence and everything.”

  Thiron raised a brow toward Wyck. “What exactly are we talking about? A bear? A bacabra?”

  “Like a bacabra, but worse. Just as big, perhaps bigger. It has red eyes, too – glowing in the darkness as it hunts.” Hardy stared at nothing while he spoke. “It’s as if the nastiest thing in the forest became ten times bigger and ten times nastier.”

  “But what is it?”

  “A beast – a monster that has already killed thirteen people, a half-dozen horses, two dogs, and three cows.” His focus shifted as he looked Thiron in the eye. “If you can kill it, you deserve the bounty King Cassius has offered. I suspect he would deal with it himself if he were able. Before the king’s…incident, he and one of his sons hunted a stag in the Red Towers. The thing had gone mad and had killed hunters and travelers alike. They say it was massive, ten feet tall and a thousand pounds. It was also reported to have had eyes that glowed in the dark.”

  “Never mind the stag,” Wyck grumbled. “I’m worried about the bounty…and finding this beast. Where have the attacks occurred?”

  The man’s forehead furrowed in thought. “To the north and to the west.” He nodded as if convincing himself. “Yes. None south or east of here.”

  “Well, that’s something to go on,” Thiron said. “Is there anything else you can tell us? When was the last attack?”

  “Like I said, about two weeks back, at Vernon’s farm. It was the closest attack to town, and it left the people here more on edge than ever.”

  “Does it always attack at night?”

  Everyone turned to look at Jonah.

  “What?” Wyck asked.

  Jonah shrugged. “Night. It’s dark. Have the other attacks occurred at night?”

  Hardy scratched his head. “Now that you mention it, I can’t recall any that occurred before sunset.”

  10

  The Hunted

  The forest was dark, despite the sun’s position well above the western horizon – at least, that is where Chuli assumed the sun to be. Now, somewhere deep amongst the Red Towers, there was scant chance to see the sky and confirm her assumption.

  The surrounding trees were massive, some ten strides in diameter. When she peered up, the forest canopy stood hundreds of feet above her. Here and there, thin beams of sunlight shone at an angle, a rare drink of light for the ferns that covered the forest floor.

  They happened upon a narrow bubbling brook, the water’s gurgling the only sound in the area. Thiron dismounted while the other three stared off into the forest, watching for movement. The man squatted and touched the ground with his fingers.

  “These tracks match the ones we saw yesterday.” His gaze scanned the forest floor. “These are fresh, no more than a day old. Whatever this thing is, it went that direction.” He pointed to the northwest, the opposite direction of Vallerton.

  Even from atop her horse and ten strides away, Chuli could see the indentation of a paw print and deep claw marks. “The paws are huge. Are you sure this isn’t a bear?”

  The hunter stood upright and shook his head. “No bear
has claws that big. Whatever this thing is, we had best not let it get near us.”

  “If we want to be back before it’s dark, we should turn around,” Jonah offered.

  Thiron walked to his horse and put his foot in a stirrup before climbing on the stallion. “Our job is to hunt this thing, not sit in the tavern and tell stories.”

  “What about nightfall? Think of how dark it will be in this forest.”

  Thiron looked back at him. “If we’re not back by then, you’ll give us some light.” He then nudged his horse into motion.

  Although Jonah grimaced at the man, he let the issue drop.

  Following Thiron’s lead, they rode through the eerie forest, scanning their surroundings. The sound of running water faded, leaving the trampling of forest undergrowth and the occasional snort from the horses as the only sounds.

  When the forest seemed to grow even darker, Chuli looked around to determine if it were just her imagination. The beams of sunlight had faded, losing intensity. Clouds must be blocking the sun, she thought.

  The building anxiety twisted Chuli’s stomach, and her back itched. It felt as if someone – or something – were watching from behind. Wyck’s horse stepped on a fallen branch, and the loud crack made Chuli jump. Thiron stopped and glared at the man for a long moment.

  “Let’s dismount,” Thiron said as he slid from his horse. “We must now place stealth above ease of travel or speed. We are nearing this thing, I can feel it.”

  The others joined him on the forest floor. Chuli patted Rhychue and requested that the mare remain while the others tied their horses to the branch of a downed tree, the trunk marked by a series of deep gouges. Nobody needed Thiron to note that those were claw marks. Chuli stared at the shredded trunk and tried to imagine what beast wielded talons that could render gouges that thick. She recalled the stories told by Constable Hardy and now understood what the man had meant. Images of shredded humans emerged from the recesses of her imagination.

 

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