Natal turned away from the mountains to gaze into the tower once again. An enormous bell hung in the center from strong iron rods in the roof. An intricately designed wrought iron fence the height of Natal’s waist encircled the bell, protecting one from falling through the opening under the bell to the tower floor far below. He ran his hand along the edge of the bell, tracing the intricate design with his finger. The workmanship surpassed any he had seen. He longed to know which species had devoted such dedication to their work.
Resting his arms back on the outer wall, he looked out over the city. He chuckled at the citizens breaking curfew. He watched several hide, as a patrol of Graeliths marched past, only to continue on their journey once the Graeliths were out of sight.
Turning his eyes to the beautiful colors streaking the sky, he soaked in the glory of the moment, as his thoughts turned to Nord. Why his sudden interest in the Plintes? Nord had dropped enough hints that Natal had been able to piece together his current thinking — attack the Plintes. But why now? Nord seemed particularly anxious about this new group of the marked and it was influencing his rationale. While they were unusual, they were hardly unique. Regardless of what Anyamae may have planned, this group lacked the skill to significantly influence events, so how did Nord transition from hunting a group of the marked to targeting an entire species?
Natal was closest to Nord, his confidant. Both had been born on Zolei to high-ranking Tyrnotts. Natal’s father was killed shortly after he was born and Nord, two years his senior, took him under his wing. Nord had no siblings and Natal made a suitable playmate. Natal’s mother remarried and bore a second child nearly ten years Natal’s junior to a man that was weak, a man who should never have survived the scarring ceremony. His mother died giving birth to Awno, his brother, and her husband died of illness not long after. Natal and his grandmother then became caregivers for Awno. Once his grandmother’s health began failing, she made him promise to protect Awno at all cost — an act he would have carried out without a promise, though he promised all the same. She had feared Awno would not survive the scarring ceremony. He agreed. When the time grew near, Natal had hidden the boy.
As leader of the Tyrnotts, Nord outwardly tolerated no exceptions to the ritual scarring, but he never questioned Natal about Awno’s disappearance. As part of this unspoken agreement, Natal would stand by his side against any enemy. Their relationship had developed over time and while Nord was clearly in control, he trusted Natal’s judgment and Natal could still sway his actions.
Natal watched the sun set the sky ablaze as it returned to its slumber for the night. After all these years, Nord’s sudden desire to destroy the Plintes baffled him. His plan lacked foresight and seemed hastily concocted. Not to mention the fact that destroying another entire species was unthinkable. Once again, Natal would need to find a way to alter Nord’s intentions without his knowledge. In swaying Nord’s actions, Natal found it most effective if Nord believed it was his own idea.
Natal smiled to himself. As darkness fell across the city, he slowly devised a strategy that just might work.
Chapter 60
Tren and Jurf hurried through town in search of the inn Anthony had told them about. Tren asked directions only once, wary of drawing attention. Given that only one Liput and one Hurfen had arrived in Banston for the funeral, blending in was difficult at best. Every Plinte greeted them warmly and with appreciation for their long journey to honor the dead. With each greeting, Tren and Jurf expressed appreciation for the hospitality and grief for the fallen. As a result, making their way through the busy village took longer than expected.
They finally arrived at the inn. Tren found the room number Anthony had given them, glanced around to ensure no one was nearby, and then knocked.
The door opened and Anthony greeted them with a warm smile. “Welcome! Come in.” He stepped back and motioned for them to enter.
Tren placed his hand on Jurf’s back to encourage the boy to go first and then followed him. The room was small and simple. A bed rested against the straight wall on the left and a small creature of some kind sat there with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. Across from the bed was a long bench. Completing the circle was a chair from which a Human woman had just stood to greet them. She must be Isabelle.
Anthony provided introductions around the group. Tren was captivated by Kalangia. As Tren and Jurf took seats on the bench across from the bed where Anthony had settled next to Kalangia, Tren wondered what Kalangia’s other forms were. He had never met a Sharmuse. Liputs were slight of build, but the Sharmuse was downright tiny.
Kalangia shared what information he knew, including his encounter with Tip on the day he left Kentish.
“Thank you for alerting Tip to the Graeliths,” Tren gratefully smiled at Kalangia. “I’m not sure he would have survived without the support of such kind strangers.” He patted Jurf on the shoulder. He only hoped Sri had fared as well.
Isabelle leaned on the left arm of her chair, closer to Tren. “I still have many contacts among Anyamae’s warriors. Rest assured that I’ll receive news if anything happens to the children. Sometimes no news is good news.”
Tren nodded his head in agreement.
The discussion turned to the Lady’s concerns about the Graeliths, but they soon agreed they would need to continue another night, given Jurf’s loudly growling stomach. Isabelle asked the group to stay alert for parents of the other marked ones. In particular, they were looking for a Krystic parent with a daughter named Prizene and a Plinte with a son named Azetan.
“Azetan!” Tren exclaimed. “I met his father and sister only this morning. They run the café in the center of town.” He looked at Jurf. “We didn’t mention any names, so I wasn’t aware he was the Plinte traveling with Tip.”
Jurf replied, “I didn’t think to mention names. I guess, then, we only need to identify the Krystic.”
“Yes,” Isabelle agreed. “And as the Arlian girl belonged to the undergrounders, we’ll likely not find a parent for her.” She turned to Tren. “Could you return to the café in the morning and speak with the owner?”
“Lifston is his name,” Tren replied, “and his daughter is Ynelza. She’s Azetan’s twin. I’ll be happy to return to the café in the morning and perhaps we can meet here again tomorrow evening?”
“Perhaps,” Isabelle replied. “We must be careful, though. No one is aware Lady Anyamae sent Kalangia to me. The Lady shows caution and we must heed her concern. Let us see how the evening unfolds. We’ll have ample opportunity to make contact over the duration of the funeral.”
“Do you think the undergrounders will be here?” Jurf spat out eagerly. “I’m sure they would be interested to hear about Kenrya.”
Tren smiled. Jurf was a smart boy. He looked to see Isabelle studying Jurf. He struggled to read her expression and was prepared to support Jurf, if need be.
“Good point,” Isabelle said, leaning toward Jurf. “They might be interested in her journey. However, they’ll be harder to identify. At least a few of them may be traveling with the dead, so that may be our starting point. Be very careful, though. Exposing their identity could be dangerous. Nord may very well have planted spies among those paying their respects. Now, let’s go eat.”
Tren watched in awe as Kalangia shifted back into his bird form. They agreed he would stay in the room for his safety. They left his cage door ajar, allowing him to fly in and out as he pleased. The group departed as new-found friends, heading for the evening’s festivities in the field Tren and Jurf had helped clear earlier. While a number of Humans attended the events, Anthony assured Tren that Isabelle taking stray visitors under her wing would not raise suspicion among any that knew her.
Despite the situation, Tren and the others enjoyed the festivities. The Plintes served yet another delicious meal and the evening included music and storytelling. Tren quickly learned that highly embellished tales were a favorite pastime of the Plintes. The stories often centered on battles, with humor
and romance woven into the tales. The evening was not unlike ones he and Mirna had spent with their friends in Kentish. In fact, it almost made him feel at home.
Chapter 61
Eros, Prizene, and Tip covered a great distance before the growing darkness made navigating the path too dangerous. The path they followed stayed close to the rock wall on the outer edge of the dark forest, heading first north, then curving toward the west. The forest remained in sight throughout the day and, as Eros frequently felt, they remained in the forest’s sight. He tried to focus on the hope that lay in his chosen path, but the evil he first sensed continued to haunt his thoughts. Once darkness enveloped them, they found a sheltering alcove in the rock wall and settled in for the night.
Eros woke early the next morning. While no light shone directly onto the path, there was sufficient light to see without an electric torch. It was almost as though the forest was always bathed in the light of dusk. He arose quietly and crept to the edge of the path, realizing for the first time they had made a gradual descent during their journey yesterday and were now almost level with the forest floor. A barren area lay between him and the forest where no foliage or roots seemed to grow. He raised his eyes toward the forest and found eyes staring back at him from the trees. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, then opened them again, seeing nothing but trees. Perhaps it was just his imagination. The path merged with the forest floor a few feet ahead. Eros felt the ground carefully and finding it solid, stepped down from the path onto the smooth part of the forest floor. He walked cautiously in the direction they would travel, ever wary of the watching forest.
He wandered about twenty yards when he came upon an opening in the rock wall to his right. He hadn’t noticed it earlier because of a large rock formation that jutted out from the wall, obscuring his view. The opening was large, at least five feet across, and through it he saw bright, early morning sunlight. He paused long enough for his eyes to adjust, then walked toward the light. The vegetation here varied from that they had seen previously. The small, green plants littered the sides of the path and showcased a wide variety of colored flowers. He soaked in their beauty and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, as he continued closer to the direct sunlight dancing across the exposed ground a few yards ahead.
As Eros neared the brightest part of the light, he heard the trickle of water. On the far side of a large bush with vibrant orange flowers, a small waterfall cascaded down the side of the rock, puddling into a small pool. He crept cautiously toward the pool, knowing well the dangers that could lurk there. Pausing at the edge, he peered into the crystal-clear water. At first, he saw only sunlight, as the reflection off the water was strong. By shifting to his right, though, the shadow of the bush allowed him to see clearly through the water into a deep cavern. The walls of the cavern, a brilliant shade of violet, glistened brightly. A smile lit Eros’s face as he watched the sun create a pattern of shimmering light across the side of the watery cavern.
“Unusual, isn’t it?” a voice asked.
Eros jumped at the sound and drew his sword without thinking, turning toward the woman he had failed to notice earlier. The woman sat hunched on a nearby rock, a bucket full of water at her feet. The lines etched on her face hinted cruelly at her age and her curly white hair was lashed loosely at the nape of her neck. She turned her eyes to him, the pupils and irises almost as pale as the rest of the eyes. He failed to recognize her species, though he sensed nothing ominous.
“Going to fight the old woman, eh?” she queried, jokingly. “Put your sword away, lad. This pool provides the closest source of water for this old body. I can’t travel to the lakes as I did in my youth.”
Sensing no hostility from her, Eros sheathed his sword, though kept his hand close to his belt. His mother once brought him to the forest and told him of people who chose to live here rather than in the larger settlements in or near the city. The people were generous and kind, she had told him; they preferred a more solitary, simpler way of life.
“You enjoy the lights of the water pool?” she asked, pointing toward the water.
Eros glanced toward the water, then back to the old woman. “Yes. They’re beautiful. Never before have I seen such color, nor the sun painting such a tale across a watery rock. What is it?”
“The rock in the cavern, you mean?” She pointed toward the water and Eros nodded. “A rare gem, or so I once was told. Some species prefer to harvest such rock for barter or riches.”
“And you?”
She smiled warmly. “I prefer to let the sun have its pleasure and to bask in all it creates.”
Eros returned her smile and felt the tension ease. “I do, as well. This path is lovely, much different from the path I follow,” he added as he gestured toward the darkness of the forest, the smile vanishing from his face. He looked back to find the woman staring at him. He sensed something unusual about her, but nothing dangerous. He lifted his face to sun, closing his eyes and enjoying its warmth. When he lowered his eyes back to the woman, he found her smiling at him.
“Such a bright boy, following such a difficult path,” she said knowingly. “Yes, a difficult path I see before you.”
“The question is whether I follow the right path.”
“Only time will tell, but others have come before you.”
“Others? Like me?”
“Yes, many marked ones come this way.”
“Marked ones?”
“The mark is clearly visible, my boy. No point in denying it. While I never followed the path myself, I think you are indeed headed in the right direction. Though most of them do travel from this direction,” she added as she pointed away from the forest, “they leave in that direction.” She pointed toward the forest. She shrugged and lifted a shaking hand to brush a wisp of hair off her face. “What’s your name, dear boy?”
“Eros from the Forest of Kullac. And yours?”
She chuckled. “Islis. Not that many care to know. This old woman enjoys her solitude.” A moment of silence passed between them before she spoke again, “I must start home.” She slowly stood and with great effort, grasped the bucket of water next to her.
“How far do you live?”
“Not too far. I have a wagon on the other side of the opening,” she added as she pointed in the opposite direction from which Eros had come.
“Let me help you,” he offered, taking the heavy bucket of water from her. He also offered her his free arm to help steady her, which she gladly took.
The old lady walked slowly, but surely, and they soon reached the far opening and her waiting wagon. Eros hoisted the water onto the wagon and secured it with rope. He turned back to the woman and helped her climb into the wagon seat.
“Will you be all right now?” he asked.
She smiled down at him. “Do not worry for me, my child. I am hardy enough.” She patted his cheek with her hand and warmth spread where her skin touched his. “Do not doubt your instincts for they lead you well.” She reached into a bag beside her on the wagon and pulled from it a small object. She turned back to Eros and held out a small silver compass. “For you, my child. A small gift of thanks. Travel to the west until the sun reaches its peak, then turn to the southwest into the dark forests. You will find what you seek.”
Eros took the compass gratefully and thanked the woman. He turned to go back through the opening to Prizene and Tip.
The woman continued, “And child …”
He turned to face her.
“Do not begrudge your companions the compassion you have graciously bestowed on an old woman.” She urged the Eaoz tethered to the wagon, which started it moving down the path.
Eros watched her for a few minutes. She must be speaking of Azetan and Kenrya. He wondered what compassion would be required of him, though he assumed he would find out soon enough. He studied the compass briefly and followed it south back through the opening to find Prizene and Tip just starting to stir. Soon they would depart along the edge of the dark forest
that ran directly to the west.
Chapter 62
Tip, Prizene, and Eros started out as soon as breakfast had been eaten and their packs prepared. Eros shared his meeting with the old woman and allowed Tip and Prizene a few moments to enjoy the beautiful rock in the pool, while Eros refilled their water supplies. Once back on the darkened path, Eros checked the compass and pointed Tip directly west, still skirting the edge of the forest.
They journeyed for a time, able to catch glimpses of the sunlight, though never the sun directly. Eros suggested that when the sun was directly overhead, the sunlight would penetrate the path where they now walked and this would be the indication they should change direction. They pushed on, traveling quickly, as the ground was firm and flat. Eros consulted the compass from time to time to ensure they were on the right course. After a few hours, he felt the sun warming the top of his head and he called for Tip to stop.
“The sun is nearly overhead. The path continues directly to the west, but look for a path nearby leading off to the southwest.” He indicated the direction and they searched the area for another path.
While the second path wasn’t obvious, Prizene discovered what appeared to be an area of ground that looked more heavily trod than the rest of the forest. The trees here were different from the ones where evil lurked; they were less gnarled and the limbs and roots grew straighter. Darkness still shrouded the forest and a light mist hung near the ground. Eros felt nothing sinister as he stood near these trees.
“You found it,” he said to Prizene. “I’d guess we have another day or so to travel before we find the camp.”
They decided to eat lunch before traveling farther and were unloading their packs when a sound echoed through the woods.
The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) Page 24
