Nolo never talked about what it meant to be the mythic Black Ranger, or how he’d acquired that title. Nolo wasn’t a mage, yet he carried Death’s arrows. They were part of him and so was the burden of choosing how people died.
"Aren't you freezing?"
"Not any more than usual for a May night. Winter's gone, and I'm glad of it." Nolo turned, and his concern slammed into Sarn. "Are you sure you’re all right?"
Sarn nodded and cringed as Hadrovel spoke from the depths of memory.
“No one cares for you,” said the Orphan Master, then he’d punched Sarn. “You’re nothing and no one. That’s why he turns away. He can’t bear to look at you.”
Sarn’s head still rang from that blow in years past. Maybe he was still that boy waiting for someone to see the bruises, the pain. But Nolo had strode away leaving him with a monster.
“Well, are you okay? Answer me.”
Sarn blinked at the question, but the memory refused to recede. Where was that care when I needed it?
“Sarn?”
“I’m not hurt.”
Not this time, but one day they would hand him over to another monster. It was inevitable.
Feeling pinned and needled his numb hand as Sarn circled that cold barrier. But he couldn’t escape the question—why did you hand me over to a monster? It gnawed at him as he rubbed his arms to warm them. Every circuit around the barrier stole a little more of his heat.
“Don’t you feel it?”
“Feel what? What are you talking about?”
"The place where you're standing—it feels wrong to me."
After a moment more, Nolo nodded then turned his attention to the shadowed lumps in front of him.
“Wrong how?”
Sarn shrugged, “just cold and dark. Can you see anything?”
Nolo’s lumir stone lit the edges of a hole punched through something, but its nimbus contracted the longer the Black Ranger crouched there.
"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 do your dark eyes seek?
"I need to know."
Sarn met his master's assessing stare. I can handle this.
"All right, 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 glanced at the trees surrounding them. Are their branches angling for an 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 wound with his black hand and struggled to cover it.
“You can’t bring steel in here. The forest doesn’t allow it.”
Sarn moved upwind, staying clear of that dark barrier, so the stench stopped causing his stomach to rebel. Its vile presence became opaque until he could not see his master anymore.
What is this thing and what created it?
Suppositions pummeled Sarn, but only one made sense. His gaze played green light over an oak whose crown brushed the hidden sky.
Are you 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? Did they bring me here to take back a warning?
What 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 did these people break?
A branch tapped Sarn on the shoulder and pointed left. Am I about to receive an answer? He left Nolo squatting in death’s shadow.
Cold extended out from the murder site, drawing a foggy line where nature and the unnatural met. And Sarn paralleled it, until an obstacle blocked his path. Ice skinning the trees broke off when his shoulder brushed it, leaving a weeping wound to drink in the light his eyes produced.
Unnatural, whispered his magic before ducking out of that cold darkness’ reach.
Sarn nodded and kept going, following the stygian cold deeper into the forest. Branches indicated another clearing where that cold darkness belled out into another dome—of what? Something other than air filled that negative space. But what is it?
His gaze snagged on a tanned foot resting on a pile of leaves as if its owner had just laid down for a nap. Horror constricted his throat, knotted his chest, and cut his legs out from under him.
But they don't hurt children—it's against their rules.
Sarn stretched out a shaking hand toward the broken 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.
My magic is green, not white.
That malevolence gathered around Sarn again, imprisoning him in thickening shadows. They clutched his hand, freezing it as his index finger touched the boy’s icy cheek. The membrane became opaque, and the star in a circle icon blinked a red warning on his map.
Why does 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 substance 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. That dead boy might have grown up to be just like me. Did someone kill that 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.
Is my 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 because that 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 I found here asks more questions than it answers. And he hated mysteries, especially the unsolvable type, but that's what sprawled before him.
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. There had likely been four men and one woman, all torn apart.
But the one thing I expected to find is absent. Either someone escaped the carnage with it, or someone else showed up afterward and stole it. Both were possible. Last years’ leaves, now blood-coated, carpeted the clearing, but they'd taken no prints.
A keening sound ended his investigation and sent Nolo hurtling toward its source. Don't be the Kid. It was.
Less than a mile later, Nolo crouched in front of Sarn. Horror had shut off the Kid’s reasoning, and it threatened to do the same thing to him.
Sarn’s hands shook. They were suspended halfway between himself and a dead boy. Beyond that child lay two women and three men—all dead. Nothing had despoiled their bodies, thank God. They were whole, unlike the other site. But the dead could wait, 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 just bottles everything up until he explodes.
<
br /> Why won't you let me help you? Nolo 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, but his eyes lit 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. Good thing, he hadn’t.
Silver light bloomed around Nolo, and he turned. Now what? What new trouble comes our way?
Trees shifted aside, and their crowns lowered 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, and 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 bones 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.
I 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. I 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, but the bond was 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 can’t harm me here. This is my forest.
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 didn’t 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 has wits and power enough to avoid bindings if he chose. Why did you accept this yoke?
Stretching out her magic again, she reached into the Child of Magic's heart where the tie originated. Each link was a promise forged by magic and blood. Again, not a surprise since his magic took in everything and reacted to it.
But the source, bless my bark—the Child of Magic has a son. What is the child of a living loophole—a larger loophole?
If the Child of Magic dies before his son turns seven, his son will die with him. I must prevent that, but how?
The Queen of All Trees processed away. Through the magic, she’d 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 will 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, but he moved a fraction of a second too slow. The Kid sprang to his feet and loped off without interference. Damn that Kid can 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 until 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 that alien substance. Stepping back, he rubbed his numb face. Light from his eyes stabbed that barrier but failed to penetrate that stygian heat-sink. His head map unfurled and flashed a warning—an icon bearing a star inside a circle.
This is the third time I've seen that tonight. What does it mean?
Another branch thrust out, and it screamed as it touched the black wall 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 seeped into the injured branch. The tree stopped screaming as his magic pushed out that 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 a black, sulfurous fog. It shot skyward, pushing against the trees rushing back in to cover the site where Fate knew how many people had died.
Where is that foul blackness going?
Sarn lost sight of it when the branches in front of him twisted into a net to capture that spewing horror. But its touch withered them, and 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 can I do? Is this unfolding horror heading toward my son? What will happen when it reaches him? I should be there to find out.
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. I must have hallucinated that. There are no such things as ghosts.
Nolo picked up the pace to narrow the increasing lead the Kid had on him. What a marvel that 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 bounce
d 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 will because the Kid has 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 until a branch looped around his waist and yanked him backward. The earth in front of Nolo collapsed, widening the ravine. It spanned more than a hundred-feet separating him from a frozen Sarn. Bodies and body parts tumbled into that hole, mingling the victims 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 that 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 did the Kid run off to now?
He spent some time looking before giving up and heading back to rendezvous with Jerlo to make a report. That stupid Kid had better be back there cooling his heels.
Curse Breaker: Books 1-4 Page 3
