Eventually, they reached a point where the Panther People would go no farther.
“Is there nothing I can offer them to convince them to continue?” Starling pleaded, desperation plain in his tone.
Frolic translated. Then, shaking his head, he told the baron, “No. You possess nothing they desire. In fact, they’re begging us not to go on. They say no one who passes beyond this point is ever seen again. The forest swallows them up. They say it belongs to the spirits, and we mustn’t desecrate it. I think we should seriously think about what they say. According to these men, it’s been this way for a hundred generations. They’re truly worried about us.”
Frolic didn’t add that the small spirits flitting around him gave him the same warning: to turn back, to avoid this cursed place, or pay the price. He didn’t like the idea of Querry and Reg venturing somewhere so dangerous. He hoped he could make Starling understand. “Baron Starling, please reconsider.”
Ignoring him, Starling grabbed Tom Teezle by the wrist and dragged him beyond what he probably thought was earshot. He hadn’t accounted for Frolic’s sensitive hearing, though. Frolic easily eavesdropped on everything they whispered to each other.
“Tom, is this just foolish superstition?”
“Not at all. I sense something beyond dreadful in these woods.”
“That could be a good thing,” Starling responded. “This much opposition must be guarding something worthwhile.”
“Or it could be this place is just ancient and forsaken,” the fey said nonchalantly. “There are many such places in this world. You can’t dispute that.”
“But can we succeed?”
“I’m not sure,” Tom said. “I have no intention of sacrificing myself to this excursion.”
“You will do as I say,” Starling reminded him.
“Oh, always,” Tom replied sarcastically.
Starling turned to the rest of his group. “We will continue. No native legend will stand in the way of our mission. Remember what we’ll be bringing to mankind if, no, when we prevail. We don’t need a guide, either. I can use my arts to find our way. Prepare to move on after the midday meal.”
Predictably, Reg rushed forth. “You’re out of your mind! I won’t allow this.”
“And what will you do to stop me?” Starling lifted his chin and crossed his arms over his chest. “Honestly, I have no desire to waste more of my time with this useless argument. As I have said many times before, you’re more than welcome to stay behind. In fact, you have my blessing. I have no use for you.”
Both Querry and Jean-Andre hurried to stand at Reg’s shoulders. When they finished staring each other down, Jean-Andre said, “This sounds like a suicide mission, monsieur. See reason.”
“I never asked for your counsel either, Belvaisian! Don’t think I don’t know why you’re really here.”
“Oh, and why is that?” Jean-Andre curled his lip and narrowed his eyes.
Starling never got a chance to answer, because Querry stepped in front of Reg and said, “I’ll go with you, majesty. Let Reg and Frolic go. You know I have the skill to get you there. Nobody else needs to risk their lives. Please.”
The baron’s mouth hung open, probably because very few people ever heard Querry ask humbly for anything, let alone plead. As a thief, he usually just took what he wanted.
“I’m on a job,” Owens said. “I’ll finish it. Always do. Professional ethics.” Istvan and Attila nodded their assent.
“I want to see it,” Corny said. “What sort of adventure is this if we turn back as soon as we face the unknown?”
“I have to go,” Querry said, though Frolic thought he saw a spark of excitement in his partner’s gleaming blue eyes. Querry adored a challenge.
“I’m not leaving you,” Reg said, grasping Querry’s shoulder. “Unless you actually think I’m useless to you, don’t argue. If you don’t feel you need me, tell me, and I’ll go.”
“You even have to ask me that?” Querry said. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I don’t want to be safe on my own, worrying. I want to fight beside you.”
“So do I,” Frolic quickly said. He couldn’t imagine being left alone, even if Starling conceded. Being alone frightened him more than being destroyed.
“Then we’re in agreement,” Starling said. “Good. Take your refreshment quickly, if you please.”
One of the Panther hunters, a beautiful young man with six lines tattooed across each of his cheeks and large, coral shells stretching his earlobes, hurried forward to clasp Frolic’s hands. The concern in his dark eyes couldn’t be misinterpreted. “Spirit-walker, you must not go into this part of the forest. Please. There’s no sense in it, anyway. Even if you reach the edge of the cursed wood, you’ll only find yourself at the Edge of the World. You’ll be able to go no farther. Come back with me, and you’ll have a fine feast every night. We’d be honored to have you watching over our tribe.”
“I’m afraid I can’t.” Frolic, moved by this virtual stranger’s concern for him, kissed the young man’s smooth cheek. “I must go on, to whatever awaits us.”
“At least let us try to protect you.”
“How?” Frolic asked.
“Wait here.” The young hunter returned to his kinsmen and spoke briefly with them, before all of them disappeared among the trees. Edge of the world? Frolic thought. Manuela misinterpreted that as “nothing.” Soon, they returned with bundles of roots and leaves that they set about roasting over a small fire, adding water and chunks of animal fat to the mixture. By the time the others had finished their afternoon meal, the Panther People were ready with their concoction.
“Just what is this?” Reg asked. “Another foul brew for us to choke back? I can hardly wait.”
Frolic voiced Reg’s concern a little more diplomatically to the natives, and gave Reg their explanation. “They wish to make sacred marks upon our skin, to repel evil and protect us from our enemies. It isn’t something they’d normally offer to someone outside their tribe. They’re terribly concerned about us.”
“These marks are permanent, then?” Reg asked with obvious reluctance.
Frolic nodded. “I don’t think it will work on me, though. My skin is much too tough.”
“I’ll do it,” Querry said, already rolling up his sleeve.
The native man shook his head and pointed at Querry’s eyes.
“My face? Seriously? Well… all right, I suppose….”
“Querry, are you sure?” Reg protested.
“What? Afraid it’ll lose me my seat in the House of Ancient Nobility?” Querry asked with the grin and wink that could convince the queen herself to dance in a tutu and striped corset.
Reg rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing it. I have to believe I might still have a life to go back to when this is over. Maybe a respectable means of employment at some point.”
“You’re beautiful already,” Querry said to him, his expression soft and full of love. “I wouldn’t want you changed. Will you still love me if I do this?”
Jack Owens cleared his throat theatrically, but Corny elbowed him in the ribs.
Reg, flushed and sweating, wiped his spectacles on his sleeve. “Yes. Yes, always.”
At that, Querry lay down on the forest floor, and one of the Panther warriors knelt beside him with a small, ink-filled shell and a sharp stick in his hands.
“Bloody hell!” Querry cried as the native man pierced the skin beside his eye with the sharpened end of the twig. “Fuck, that hurts.”
Frolic hurried to kneel next to Querry and clutch his hand. Reg sat next to him and cast a worried glance at Querry, then at Frolic. At this proximity, Frolic saw that the native warrior worked with a hollow, reed-like instrument. He dipped it into the ink then drove the pointed end beneath Querry’s skin. Now and then, he stopped to wipe Querry’s blood away with the handkerchief Reg proffered. Querry lay with his eyes screwed shut until the native man, through Frolic, admonished him against wrinkling his skin. Soon, cur
iosity compelled the others to stand in a crescent and look down on Querry’s ordeal. When he became aware of their scrutiny, Querry let his features go slack and blank, though he squeezed Frolic’s hand almost hard enough to hurt.
Finally, the native man dabbed the last splatters of dark pigment from Querry’s skin, and Querry sat up. At the outer corners of each of his brows, two tiny lines curled up toward his hairline. Another, thicker line, less than an inch long, stretched down from the peak at the center of his dark tresses. Two more very small, understated strokes slanted ever so slightly up from the outer corners of his eyes. Though so subtle no one would notice the markings unless they came close and looked hard, they gave Querry a slight resemblance to a panther, a predator who not only belonged within, but ruled the jungle. Frolic hoped the simple design might help the beasts and spirits see Querry as something to fear and avoid. According to the hunters, it had worked for them since before anyone could remember.
As Reg gingerly touched the markings with the tip of his finger, leaning close and donning his spectacles to examine them, the native man looked up at the others, his brows raised.
Frolic understood. “He wants to know if anybody else wants it done.”
They all looked at each other, as if each of them waited to see what the others would do. Corny stepped forward. “I will.”
She received some pigment around her eyes that made them look slanted and cat-like, while Starling got three lines below his lip, over the center of his chin, and Jack Owens got a pair of whisker-like lines extending about an inch from his sideburns on each cheek. The four of them took a few minutes to admire each other’s new adornments, talking of the pain. Frolic thought maybe it brought them a little closer together to have shared a common experience. All of them seemed more comfortable with each other.
They shared a quick, last lunch with the Panther People, and then the hunters turned to leave. Frolic hugged them and clasped their hands before watching them disappear into the jungle. He’d miss them. In many ways, he thought himself much like them: they spoke and behaved honestly, with no knowledge of the complex nuances of Anglican social interaction. One never had to wonder what they really meant when they communicated. Whisper, on Frolic’s shoulder, let out a long, mournful note, as if he sensed Frolic’s regret. Frolic leaned his head against Whisper and reached up to stroke his doughy leg. The creature’s wings fluttered softly.
Less than an hour after they set out, the forest changed dramatically. All sounds of birds singing, insects chirping, monkeys howling, and creatures moving through the branches faded and died. After becoming so used to the myriad reminders of life, Frolic found the silence eerie. It had always been gloomy beneath the thick growth of the jungle, but it grew almost as dark as twilight. Not a single shaft of sun broke through, and no breeze rustled the thick vines and broad leaves. It felt like being suspended in a perpetual dusk, and no matter how far they ventured, it didn’t change. Along with the little creatures he’d met before, Frolic sensed other beings. Now and then he caught a glimpse of them flitting past: the size of men but made from shadow like the smaller creatures.
Frolic, who’d felt ill at ease and stayed close to Reg and Querry, broke away to catch up with Tom Teezle. “You see them. I know you do.”
Tom chuckled. “That wasn’t a question, so I don’t need to give you a false answer.”
“What are they? Not fey, I can tell that much.”
“No,” Tom agreed. “If I had to guess, I’d say they’re the spirits of humans who perished here over the centuries, now bound to protect this place. There’s a powerful enchantment over this land, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It’s old and complex, and I believe it’s trapped them here. The same could happen to the rest of these humans if they’re unlucky enough to die beneath the veil of the curse.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“Most certainly,” the fey said. “They’ll be bloodthirsty and mad after being tethered here so long when they should have moved on. I must admit, this is magic beyond even my understanding. I can tell you with absolute certainty we aren’t welcome here.”
“Well, how can we protect ourselves?” Frolic asked.
Tom stopped on the narrow trail, ignoring the others, who had to steer the carts up an embankment to avoid him and Frolic, who faced one another. “To me, ribbons are the most wonderful things in the world. Here.”
He took a strip of blue-black silk from a trouser pocket, pinched a lock of Frolic’s hair at the tip, and wrapped the fabric around a clump of it before tying it off at the end. Frolic reached up and touched it, rattling the beads, feathers, and braids the native children had given him. For some reason, they’d been fascinated with his hair.
“Thank you, Tom Teezle. I actually do feel better. How can I keep Querry and Reg safe?”
“You can’t.” The faerie turned away from him to rejoin the baron, who led the procession.
Frolic hurried back to his friends. No matter what Tom claimed, Frolic planned to protect them somehow.
When they stopped to camp for the night, Frolic saw Starling sprinkling something around the perimeter of the tents. Faint magic wafted from the shimmering trail it left, but Frolic still felt apprehensive as he entered the small tent he shared with Reg and Querry. Enchantment whizzed and hummed all around, not with the focused intent of a spell, but chaotically. Frolic sensed the spirit-panthers and deceased warriors stalking just beyond the baron’s boundary. He felt their hunger and desire to kill, as well as a protectiveness he understood well.
“We don’t belong here,” he whispered.
“That much is obvious,” Reg said. “Even to me. Querry, Frolic, tell me. What’s out there?”
Frolic looked to Querry, wondering how much to say. He never knew how much to keep to himself, so he waited for Querry to explain it.
With a deep sigh, Querry combed his hair out of his face with his fingers. It, along with Reg’s hair, had grown several inches since they’d left Thalacea. The ends brushed their collarbones. Frolic liked running his hands through Reg’s soft, straight tresses and Querry’s loose, black waves. With Querry’s sun-darkened skin, Frolic thought his lover could almost pass for one of the natives, and even Reg’s skin had deepened to a lovely, freckle-dusted, golden brown. Only Frolic remained a rose-tinted porcelain, and he always would. No matter what he lived through or where he went, his experiences would never change him, never show on his face as they did on his friends.
After a few silent minutes, Querry composed himself enough to speak. “I only catch glimpses of the Other World. I can’t see it all the time, but I can feel it, somewhere down at the base of my spine. We’ve been surrounded by… something ever since we reached the Panther Peoples’ valley. I don’t know what they are, but they’re not fey. At least not fey like we have back home. Sometimes I see them out of the corner of my eye.”
“They’re not evil,” Frolic hurried to say, watching his little Whisper tilt its head at the few, functional items in the tent. It flapped its wings and flicked its newly materialized, cat-like tail. “I can say for certain they don’t mean us any harm. But there are others. Tom says they are the spirits of humans who died here, now doomed to keep others away from this place. We shouldn’t be here. It feels horribly wrong to me.”
“We have no choice,” Querry said.
At that, Reg slumped his shoulders, slipped his spectacles off, and rubbed his temples and tired-looking eyes. “Actually, we do.”
“What do you mean?” Querry asked. “Did you find a way out of the contract?”
“No, it’s… something else. I should have told you before. I don’t know why I didn’t. Jean-Andre offered to… to get Starling out of our way.”
“Fuck me,” Querry whispered. “Not for free, I’m sure.”
“No.”
Frolic didn’t understand, and said so.
“Jean-Andre offered to kill Lord Starling,” Reg explained gently, curling his fingers around Frolic’s wrist and look
ing deep into his eyes.
“Kill?” Frolic barely whispered, his voice no louder than the brush of his clothing as he shifted uncomfortably.
“And what did he want in return?” Querry demanded.
“Querry, I don’t know why you hate him as you do—”
“What did he want, Reggie?”
“Frolic’s book.”
“Fuck me.” Querry slammed the side of his fist into the ground. “I should have known.”
“Known how?” Reg asked, his eyes narrowing.
Frolic turned his attention to his book, sitting on top of a crate in the corner. He couldn’t lose it. Not only did it potentially hold secrets from his creator as to his purpose, it would also help him fashion himself a companion. Without it, he’d find himself alone. Almost as if reading his mind, Whisper fluttered over to the large, leather-bound tome and curled up on top of it. Frolic looked back at Querry, who fidgeted with his belts and the pouches dangling from them, clearly anxious.
“Querry?” Reg persisted.
“Back in Halcyon, just before we took on the Grande Chancellor, Jean-Andre tried to get me to give him the book. He offered me a lot of money for it. He also offered me a sort of job, finding out and selling secrets. That’s why I don’t trust him. It’s too much of a coincidence that he’s even here. And what’s more, he just abandoned his so-called job for the empress. Does that seem right to you?”
“How come you never told us?” Reg sounded hurt.
“Because I never even considered accepting,” Querry said. “We had so much else going on, it just seemed like the least of our worries. After that, I guess I put it out of my mind. I never meant to keep anything from you, I swear it. Reggie, I know Jean-Andre can be charming. Just don’t let your guard down.”
“I could say the same to you about your newest mate, the esteemed Baron Starling.”
“Oh?” Querry arched his brows. “If nothing else, his majesty’s been honest about his intentions.”
A Grimoire for the Baron Page 29
