Cutlass (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  “Do you even know where she is?” Cove’s voice was low when he spoke, almost as if he were afraid to ask, knowing Barren would probably have an answer.

  “They were meeting someone…at Cape Oceaniana, possibly handing Larkin over so she would not ruin their plans. It’s probably too late now. I don’t even know how long I’ve been out.”

  “Two days,” said Cove, he paused for a moment.

  “Do they know Leaf rescued me from the cells?” Barren asked.

  “No.”

  “So they think I am dead.”

  “It is safe to assume that, I think,” said Cove. “But they know the rest of us aren’t, and we have Devon. Without him, they have hit a dead end. There isn’t much they can do beyond Cape Oceaniana.”

  “Devon?” Barren said quietly, his brows came together. “Devon and....and Em? Are they both here?”

  Cove nodded.

  After meeting Em in the towers of Estrellas, Barren hadn’t been convinced she or Devon would help them. There was something about the bloodstone neither one wanted to revisit, and as much as Barren hated to dig up bad memories, he needed them. Devon and Em were their only starting points for locating the bloodstone, and if they couldn’t give him answers, no one else could. Alex had said everyone else was dead.

  “Where is he? Where’s Devon?”

  “I will take you to him.”

  ***

  Barren was used to feeling exposed to nature—on the deck of the ship, there was little to shield him from the sun or the sea, but as he walked down the open corridors of the palace of Aurum, he wanted to hide. He had never been to the Elfin isle, mostly because he, being half-Elf, would not be welcome—and the way he was being watched now was only a testament to that truth. He couldn’t see them, but he knew Elves hid in the forest beyond, scrutinizing his every move.

  Barren tried to focus on his surroundings. The walls of the palace were smooth, as if the entire place had been carved from one massive stone. Earthy tones ran through the walls—grays, browns, greens, and golds. The walls were lined with columns, which reached high toward the ceiling and arched together like naked trees, bowing to each other. And the windows through which he was being watched were large and invited the natural world outside to wander within. Ivy vines wrapped around columns, and clung to the ceiling’s branches.

  As the corridor ended, a great hall opened up. Golden light poured in from an opening in the ceiling, highlighting a rectangular pond filled with emerald water and white lilies. The water ran from the pool down to a smaller stream, which exited into a reservoir outside. Barren walked up to the windows, pulling back sheer curtains. He found that the emerald pond extended far into a garden, white lilies gleamed brightly in the light, and wild orange and red flowers burst open, filling all the green with color. It was beautiful.

  He turned and beheld the rest of the space—like the arches in the hallway, tall columns rose up and meshed with the ceiling like branches of trees in the middle of winter. The sun streaming in through the ceiling caught pieces of the gold embedded within the walls, so everything seemed to shimmer. A wide staircase was nestled in the far corner and led to another wide hallway, full of open windows, greenery, and light. It was at this point Barren realized that Cove was watching him, patiently.

  The pirate cleared his throat. “This place is magnificent.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, hands behind his back. “The Elves love nature. The closer they are to it, the better they feel.”

  Suddenly, tension flooded the room. Barren’s eyes returned to the stairs where he saw figures approach. One Barren recognized as Leaf, only he had exchanged his usual dirty gear for more…formal attire. He wore a gray tunic and black leggings. Around his neck, a silver clasp held a flowing black cloak. His straight blond hair looked no different, except that a silver circlet was now tangled within his locks. He looked lordly, like a king.

  Beside him was an Elf of equal height. His features were more severe—eyes of ocean blue and a strong, clenched jaw made him seem unpleasant. He was dressed in layers of blue fabric, tailored with fine threads. Long silver-white hair draped his shoulders, and his pointed ears stuck out—the left bearing a strange silver cap. Unlike Leaf’s simple circlet, this man bore a heavy diamond-encrusted crown. Barren knew him as Leaf’s father, the King of Aurum—Lord Alder.

  “Nice of you to finally to join us,” said Leaf with a smirk. Barren felt a little relief—at least he hadn’t lost his humor. Then Leaf glanced at the Elf beside him. “This is my father, Lord Alder.”

  While Cove moved into a bow, Barren found that he couldn’t—his body merely refused, stiffened from its injuries. Instead he nodded to the king and hoped he wouldn’t take offense. By the look on his face, it seemed he didn’t care.

  “It is good to see you returned to health so soon,” said the king. “I trust you will be able to travel soon, though I hate to see my son go.”

  There it was, and without subtlety. Lord Alder did not want Barren here. It wasn’t any surprise, really. Barren did have full intentions of making the lord talk about the Lyrics. No matter how much he wanted them to go away, he couldn’t erase the fact that they had once survived. But Barren had a feeling that the root of Lord Alder’s dislike was much simpler—Barren was half-Elf: a tainted version of their pure race.

  “I apologize for the intrusion,” said Barren. “If I had any say in the matter, we would not have disturbed you.”

  “You were in no state to make decisions,” said Lord Alder. “Indeed, you were very close to death when you arrived.”

  “You can thank Christopher Lee for that—whatever he did to me, well, it felt like death.”

  “You were poisoned by a hemlock needle,” said Leaf. “One prick of the finger and you’re pretty much dead. Luckily, you had a skilled healer aboard your ship.” The Elf gave a smug smile, though Barren vaguely remembered that Leaf had been frantic when he found him. His fear led to what Barren would have called a rash decision had he not been so close to death. “But I could not keep you from dying. There was only one place I could go where I knew you could be healed.”

  “Who did it? Who healed me?”

  “I did.” Lord Alder’s voice seemed to resonate all around them. Barren stood, both shocked and grateful.

  “And what is a hemlock needle? How did something so small destroy me in an instant?”

  “It is a hollow needle laced with hemlock. By itself, it causes little damage, but when strengthened with magic, it can kill.”

  “And how did Christopher Lee come into possession of such a thing?”

  The king shrugged. “I know not the matters of Lord Christopher Lee. At the moment, you should focus on yourself. As you will feel the sting of the poison long after you have awakened from the sleep.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Lord Alder, however, had stopped speaking, and instead, turned his head toward Leaf, leaving his son to explain. Leaf hesitated and then cleared his throat.

  “You will be attacked by random bouts of paralysis without warning,” he said. “It is an effect of the poison accosting your body.”

  Barren took a deep breath. So this was what Lee meant when he said the effects would never let go. Was he supposed to feel defeated? Or useless? He looked down at his hands and squeezed them into fists, his joints flexed beneath the skin. Then he let go. Everything worked fine now.

  “Let it come when it will,” he said. “I will face it then.”

  The trio watched as Lord Alder departed. Barren kept his eyes on him longer—he felt heat rise to his face and his eyes hurt from staring too hard. He knew the Elfin king could feel Barren watching him—his frame was too tense as he moved back up the steps. Leaf turned to the others, clapping his hands together.

  “Well, that was interesting.”

  “Your father does not trust me,” said Barren. “Did you expect it to go differently?”

  “Actually, I expected him to ask you to leave immediately,” said Leaf. �
�I guess I underestimated how glad he was at my return.”

  “I guess that means you already spoke with him about the bloodstone?”

  Leaf nodded his head. “He does not deny anything, but says that everything is simple: the Lyrics lived and they died, and the bloodstone is safe where it is.”

  “Does he want William to possess the stone? Surely he knows that my brother will not extend the same kindness that Eadred or even Cathmor showed him.”

  “You are lucky he is letting us stay here,” Leaf reminded Barren curtly. “It’s dangerous to harbor us. William and Christopher are not held to the same treaty as the king. They can harm my people.”

  Barren quieted at that. He knew that was all-too-true. He felt guilty for bringing danger to these people, though he didn’t understand Lord Alder’s unwillingness to help…unless he did not trust Barren with the stone. Perhaps he felt that he would become corrupt in the face of such power, especially since he wished to avenge his father.

  “This is not the end,” Cove reminded him. “Devon is here, and he can hopefully give us some insight into the whereabouts of the stone.”

  “Cove is right. We did not journey into the tower or Estrellas for nothing,” said Leaf.

  No, they hadn’t, and Barren needed to keep reminding himself of that because the horrors he and Larkin had experienced there were far too great to be for naught.

  They headed down a set of wide steps at the back of the great hall, and then continued down another open corridor. Barren noticed parts of the palace were tangled within the forest beyond. Walls of earthy stone peeked out from behind green ivy, and because of this, it was hard to tell exactly how big this place was. His eyes returned to Leaf and Cove who moved before him side-by-side. He wondered how much his crew discussed while he was out. The thought made him a little angry, but they couldn’t make decisions without him. He was the captain.

  The corridor ended at a courtyard. It was a round space, filled with thick green grass. At its center, a fountain rested, and water rose up from a spout and trickled down tiered pools until it reached a basin filled with white lilies. Willow trees were arranged in four corners of the yard. Near the fountain, a stone terrace extended. There, he saw Alex, who was standing, leaning heavily upon his cane as he conversed with three people seated on a bench before him. He recognized Em, though she looked different from the women he’d met in the tower. Her hair was loose from its braid, and fell down her back. She was dressed in a simple silver gown. Beside her was an older man with stringy salt-and-pepper hair and a short beard to match. His forehead had been bandaged, and Barren noticed that scratches and bruised marred his aging skin, though from this distance, he could not tell if they were old or new. He was dressed in a black tunic, embellished with gold designs. This, he assumed, must be Devon Kennings.

  Alex moved back slightly, exposing the last person to Barren fully. She sat on Em’s right. The first thing he noticed about her was her hair—it was a lively, fiery red. Then he noticed her green eyes—they seemed to brighten each time she blinked. Her head snapped toward him, and when she noticed Barren, her smile faded. There was something about her that was unlike the other Elves he knew—it was in her gaze. It was almost supernatural and infinite.

  When the Elf with red hair ceased talking, the others looked his way. He suddenly felt panicked. They rose from where they sat, and Barren took that as a sign that he should move toward them. He took the steps from the corridor into the courtyard and approached, though he couldn’t help feeling he wasn’t particularly welcome, judging by the way the red-haired Elf glared at him.

  “Barren! Good to see you awake,” Alex was the first to speak. The old man moved toward him to clap him on the back. Barren couldn’t help feeling guilty—Alex and Mary were the closest things to parents he’d had since his father died. He imagined it wasn’t easy for Alex to see him hurt.

  “I’m glad I don’t hafta give Mary any grim news.”

  Barren laughed a little. “Me too. She’d never let you out of the house again.”

  Alex laughed, too, then he gestured to the old man beside Em. “Barren, I’d like you to meet Devon Kennings.”

  Before Barren could acknowledge him, the red-haired Elf tore away from the group and hurried out of the courtyard. Em looked apologetic. “Excuse me,” she said as she hurried after the Elf. Barren watched them retreat, wondering why his presence caused her to react in such a manner.

  “Barren Reed,” he heard his name slip from an unfamiliar mouth, and his gaze turned to storm-like eyes. Devon Kennings looked tired. Close up, it was easy to tell that his life had been a hard one—from a long scar on the side of his face, to the lines around his eyes and mouth. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

  Again? Barren wasn’t sure he’d ever met this man.

  “I don’t remember you,” was all Barren could say.

  Devon didn’t seem surprised by that. “You wouldn’t remember me. I was not around much. Let’s walk,” he said, raising his head a little. He eyed the sky as if he mistrusted it.

  Barren hesitated for a moment, looking back at Leaf and Cove. They were watching him with curiosity from the shelter of the corridor. Barren couldn’t figure out why he felt so awkward around Devon. He had no reason to fear what this man had to say, not if he wanted to figure out if his father was innocent, and not if he wanted to figure out where the bloodstone was.

  The two passed before the Elfin palace, and Barren could gauge the size of the kingdom a little better. The main part of the palace was at least six stories—the highest bearing a balcony that Barren imagined overlooked the forest straight to the sea. The rest was a collection of various towers, bridged together by hallways with large open windows. Parts of the structure seemed to grow out of the surrounding forest—vines consumed whole towers, and moss covered the rooftops.

  Barren and Devon set out upon one of the many paths twisting into the forest. Trees quickly consumed them. Here the leaves were turning golden-green as autumn descended upon the Orient. Barren watched the sunlight stream in through the canopy in thick rays. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear a river bubbling. It was peaceful out here and beautiful, though Barren knew there was more to this wild wood than meets the eye. It was full of danger—not just because of the Elves who occupied it, but because the plants were just as deceiving. Some were poisonous and some were hallucinogens. It was likely that unwelcome guests wouldn’t make it to the palace walls if they challenged the forest.

  Barren swallowed hard at that thought and turned to face Devon. The old man had been starting at him, waiting for questions.

  “Do you know who took you from your home in Conn?” Barren asked.

  “Tetherion’s soldiers,” said Devon.

  “That’s impossible. Tetherion knew we were going to Conn to meet you.”

  “One thing I am most certain about was who took me from my home,” and the tone of Devon’s voice told Barren not to second-guess the pirate, at least not to his face. But Barren couldn’t bring himself to believe that Tetherion had been responsible for Devon’s arrest. It didn’t make any sense.

  “Well what did they do with you in Estrellas then?”

  “Interrogated me,” Devon said, then he sniffed. “Tortured me. Lot of good it did, though. I don’t remember anythin’ about the bloodstone, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell them. I don’t trust Tetherion as far as I can throw him.”

  Several things bothered Barren about what the old man just said. “What do you mean you don’t remember anything about the bloodstone?”

  The pirate shrugged, as if it were nothing. “I don’t remember. Everything before your father’s death is just a blur. It’s all hazy. As if I was in a fog the first part of my life.”

  Well, that sounded all too familiar to Barren.

  “You don’t remember,” Barren said quietly.

  Devon’s eyes narrowed upon him. “Is that what you want, too? The stone?”

  Barren focused on Devon for a
moment. “You must remember something. There’s fear in your words.”

  “You’re too young to say something like that.”

  “I’ve had a lot of experience with those who fear.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, and Barren realized he had to gain this man’s trust if he was going to get anywhere with him, and that surprised him. If Devon Kennings had been a member of Jess Reed’s crew, why would he mistrust his son?

  “What do you want with the bloodstone?” Devon asked.

  “I was asked to find it before my brother does.”

  “Asked by Tetherion?” Devon prodded. Barren noted his disregard for Tetherion’s title, his hateful tone—the king must be Devon’s hang-up.

  “Yes. He asked me to find it and return it to him. He said he would keep it safe.”

  “Safe,” Devon spat. “Let me tell you, boy, that stone is far better off stuck in whatever hole it was placed. It’s not the stone you gotta worry about keeping safe, it’s the Orient.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Do not believe for a second that Tetherion wouldn’t use that stone to keep himself invincible from threats. I don’t need memories to know what dark magic can do. No matter the virtues of Tetherion—of which I am sure there are none—dark magic would corrupt him so fast he’d never know what hit him.”

  “Why are you so sure Tetherion has no virtue?”

  “No man who would send an assassin to kill his brother is a good man.”

  Barren only heard that Cathmor had sent assassins, not that Tetherion was involved, too.

  “I protected Jess,” said Devon. “I protected him from Tetherion and Cathmor’s threats. I don’t care how often he interfered with their plans. There is no honor in that. It shows that Tetherion would do anything for power.”