by Pam Brondos
Soris looked slightly bewildered. “Andris was bitten?”
“No.” She retrieved her dagger from the worn table next to the hearth. “He just knew how to get into my head. Others can do it, too. Don’t worry about it.” She looked out the open window. Greffen strode out of the mist, followed by the chestnut mare. His soft words to the horse spilled in through the window. “It doesn’t mean anything,” she said, keeping her back to him. She pretended to struggle with the buckle on her satchel. But it did mean something.
She dropped the satchel as Greffen closed the door behind him. “Here.” She held out her dagger. Greffen accepted the weapon and turned it over in his hands. “I’m going to get into trouble trading that for a horse,” she told him as she wrapped a small bundle of bread and sheep’s milk cheese in a cloth and tucked it in her bag. Greffen shrugged and examined the markings on the hilt. He sheathed the blade and placed it on the table.
They helped Soris to his feet, but once standing, he pushed them away. “I can walk,” he said. Nat and Greffen followed him as he made his way out the door and awkwardly pulled himself onto the saddle.
Once Soris was settled, Greffen steered Nat toward a fence post. A halter with eye shields hung from it. He handed it to her. “She’ll let you know if there are Nala about long before you see them. Put these on her before you reach the forest. She’ll be less likely to throw you off if she senses Nala.”
Nat took the halter. “Comforting.”
“Sister.” He touched her shoulder. “Did you see his chest?” He glanced at Soris.
“No, what’s wrong?”
“When I changed the dressing, the venom lines were down past his abdomen. He’s turning faster than I expected. If Nala are around, they may be drawn to him.”
Nat fingered the eye shield as if examining the flap. “Let’s hope your mare is fast, then.” Not wanting any more bad news, she hurried to the horse and mounted. Soris sat behind her. The mare danced lightly to the left as she lifted the reins. “You ready?” she asked Soris.
He wrapped one arm around her waist and held the crossbow in the other. “If it’s blue and it moves, I’ll shoot it.” He smiled wanly.
“Sister.” Greffen was at the mare’s side, holding up the dagger. “You need this more than I do.”
“Thanks, I think.” She took the dagger and strapped it to her belt. “Get word to the old Hermit near the Meldon Plain that you loaned us this horse. I’ll do my best to see that the Hermit gets her back to you.” She looked down at Greffen’s deeply lined face. “But please, if he asks, just tell him you loaned us the horse, nothing else.” Benedict was the last person who should know about Soris’ bite.
Greffen nodded and Nat kicked the mare. She bolted through the gate and followed the line of the stone fence, away from the cottage. Nat heard Greffen yelling behind them. “What did he say?” she asked as she leaned forward over the mare’s thrusting neck.
“Something about Barba!” Soris yelled over her head. “Say hello to Barba?”
How could he know about Barba? Nat kicked the horse again, urging it to move faster and farther away from the cottage. The mare’s hooves tore up clods of dirt as they rode into the early morning mist. With the familiar cliffs in plain view and Estos’ map memorized, Nat directed the mare toward Benedict’s. They reached his house in the midmorning. The sun reflected off the cream-colored stone steps leading to his door, but Nat didn’t bother knocking. Bits of straw clung to the closed window shutters. A storm must have passed through and knocked the straw from the thatched roof before plastering it to the shutters. The rough-hewn enclosure for Benedict’s donkey was empty. A film of white crust covered the bottom of the animal’s water trough.
Soris set about slowly pulling up buckets of water from Benedict’s well. They drank greedily before filling the trough for the mare. While the mare drank, Nat examined Benedict’s house. Stone walls rose halfway up to meet the wooden exterior that extended to the thatched roof. The door and shutters were tightly secured. She could leave a message for Benedict tucked under a rock, but the chance it would survive another storm, or that Benedict would even find it upon his return, was slim.
Soris touched Nat’s shoulder, which made her wound tingle. “She’ll be good for a while now.” He gestured to the mare, who was ripping long clumps of grass growing near the stubby stone fence surrounding the house. “I can make it to Daub Town by the morning if I’m lucky,” he said. Nat turned and had to squint against the sunlight as she faced Soris. “You take the mare the rest of the way to wherever it is you’re going,” he added and crossed his arms. His normal grin was replaced with a look of resignation.
“You’re coming with me. Like I said last night, change of plans,” Nat replied.
“No, I’m not,” he said. “Benedict’s not around.” He pointed to the silent house. “Who knows when he’s coming back. There’s no one else to get word to Gennes and the rest of them.”
“What about the bite?”
“What about it?”
“You need medicine. You need treatment.”
“I appreciate your concern, but it’s done. I’m done.” His tone was filled with anger as he swept his hand in front of his body. “Nobody is going to change anything now. I might as well do some good and get word to my brother before I have to—”
“Have to what? Walk into the woods? That’s not happening. You’re coming with me. We’ll figure out some way to heal you.” She strode toward the mare and tugged the reins, pulling her away from the grass.
“Why are you saying that? No one can heal me!” Soris’ voice filled the silent air around the house. “Everything has changed. No more Houses, no more Healing Sisters.” He pointed to the forest. “If you’re bitten, you either die or you turn into a duozi and are exiled to the forest. There’s no way around it, so stop acting like there’s a way to fix it—to fix any of it.”
“There are things my friends can do to help you.”
“Why are you lying? Does it make you feel better? You weren’t the one who was bitten, Sister—I was.” His anger increased with each word, cutting into her.
“And it’s my fault! If I hadn’t fallen asleep. If I had come to the river with you. If I were a real—” She caught herself. “This is stupid. What do you have to lose by coming with me? We have two, maybe three hours of travel if this horse takes us all the way. The minute we get to where we are going, Estos will be on his way to Gennes’ camp. He has a better chance of making it than you do.” She regretted the words as soon as she said them. His face crumpled. She looked away, knowing she couldn’t give up on him. “Or choose your path, but I will be right behind you the entire way to Gennes’ camp, wasting precious time.” She shoved her boot in a stirrup and landed in the saddle with a thud. “If you think for a minute that I’m leaving you after what we’ve been through together, you’re insane. Get on the horse.” She extended her hand to him.
He glared at her, unmoving. His eyes flickered to the forest, then settled on hers. “You put it a little too well, Sister,” he said, grasping her hand and pulling himself up with a wince. “I have nothing to lose.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Nat pulled on the reins. The mare stepped out of the thin line of trees. The crooked tree came into view. It felt like ages, not weeks, had passed since her first trip to Fourline, when she’d shoved a crumpled bit of paper into the eye of that tree.
She decided to return using the original path through the forest instead of along the cliff. If the mare behaved, they would reach the membrane quickly. The cliff was safer, but they were running out of time. The blast of pain she felt in her shoulder when she lifted her arm would slow her down. She eyed the tree a moment longer before rummaging in her satchel.
“Why have we stopped? Did you see something?” Soris nervously scanned the tree line beyond the meadow. Aside from a few assenting grunts, these were the fi
rst words he’d spoken to her since they’d left Benedict’s.
“We can leave a message for Benedict in that tree.” She pointed to the crooked tree, torn parchment in hand. The horse backed up quickly, knocking Nat into her neck. “Can you put the blinders on her while I write this?” She slid off the saddle and absentmindedly handed Soris the blinders. “Greffen said she was easily distracted after a few hours of travel. He suggested we put these on her if she started getting antsy,” Nat lied in response to the skeptical look on his face.
“Distracted? More like knowing when Nala are around.” He grabbed the blinders and dismounted. “You are a pretty pathetic liar, Sister.”
You’ll find out what a good liar I am soon enough, Nat thought. She turned her attention to the parchment and scribbled a brief note to Benedict: 8 days since we saw you. My brother is better but moving on with me. If you find a mare, ask around for owner. She paused. Expect to see your friends soon. The message was cryptic, but he’d understand. She folded the parchment into a compact rectangle and returned to the mare. The horse shook her head, displeased with her new limited line of sight. Soris looked off into the woods as she mounted the horse. She leaned over the mare’s neck and whispered gentle, encouraging words.
“False promises?” Soris asked as they made their way through the meadow to the crooked tree.
“You’re starting to remind me of Andris,” Nat said. Maybe the venom was transforming his disposition along with his body. She kicked the mare, forcing Soris to grab her around the waist to avoid falling off. She brought the horse around the side of the crooked tree. She remembered how the soldiers had appeared near the spot they’d just left. Anyone would see the horse, but maybe not as easily if the mare wasn’t right in front of the tree. The saplings and their nasty needles greeted her. This should be easier with a horse, she thought as she eyed the tree.
“Get off and hold her still. This will just take a second if you can keep the horse from moving around too much.” She handed Soris the reins when he landed on the ground. She pulled her feet out of the stirrups and balanced on the saddle. She wobbled to the left. “Steady.”
“Easier said,” Soris replied.
As Nat reached for a low-hanging branch, the mare backed away. Pain ripped down her arm. She clung to the branch with one hand. The other brushed the tops of the saplings. She clasped her legs around the branch and grunted, painfully pulling herself around right above the eye in the tree. She shoved the paper in. Now she just needed to get down. “If you don’t keep that horse still, I’m going to end up landing on you.” She balanced herself by wrapping her good arm around the tree. She stepped carefully onto a branch.
“I’m not trying to make her move.” Soris clasped the reins tighter. The mare’s head jerked up as she backed away from the tree. “She’s not interested in staying put.” He glanced at Nat as he struggled with the horse. Their eyes met. Nat, wide-eyed, mouthed the word “Nala” and jumped. Soris ripped the crossbow from his satchel just as the Nala descended from the neighboring tree, one pointed arm wrapped around the tree trunk, the other pointed toward Soris. It made a sound like air escaping a tire before it sprang toward him. The mare reared, kicking her legs like a windmill, and took off running.
Nat struggled to her feet. Her right arm hung limp and useless by her side. With a twisted movement, she unsheathed the dagger with her left hand and lunged toward the Nala. The blade made a thin slice on its leg. She landed with a thud between it and Soris. Blue spittle dripped onto her cheek. The smooth blue head and gaping mouth hovered over her. She tried to close her eyes, to shut out what she knew would be the last thing she’d ever see, but she couldn’t. Drips of venom hit her nose and ran down her cheek. The Nala jerked suddenly to the side. Its sleek body arched, altering its path away from Nat. The long grass bent as it crumpled to the ground next to her. Fletching protruded from its back and the tip of an arrow stuck out of its chest.
Nat frantically looked around for Soris. He looked confused and pointed his still-loaded crossbow toward the forest. A treetop twitched. “Don’t shoot!” Nat screamed. She hit Soris’ arm, sending the arrow high and right of the figure running toward them. Annin spun and brought her fist down on Soris’ forearm. The crossbow clattered to the ground. She helped Nat to her feet.
Soris stood to the side, clutching his arm. “What was that?” he barked.
“No time for an explanation of defensive techniques,” Annin spat. She brought a blade down on the Nala, separating its head from its body. Nat stared as its head rolled away. Annin pulled her toward the forest. “Thanks for getting my friend this far. Get after your horse and as far from here as you can,” Annin called out to Soris.
“No, Annin.” Painfully, Nat pulled free of her strong grasp. “He’s coming with us.”
Annin halted. “No, he isn’t, and we don’t have time to argue about this. There are at least two more Nala approaching from the south.” She tilted her head in the direction they’d come. Her wild hair made her look slightly deranged.
Nat ran back, grabbed Soris’ hand, and hauled him past Annin, toward the path. “He’s been bitten, and he’s coming with us!” she shouted and broke into a run. “Keep up as best you can, Soris, and listen to me, okay?”
Soris nodded, slightly dumbfounded, and picked up his pace to match Nat’s. “Who is that?”
“A friend,” Nat responded. “Duck!” A low limb stuck out as they rounded a rotted stump.
Annin passed Soris, skipped over two fallen logs, and squeezed in next to Nat. “When was he bitten?”
“Yesterday, midmorning. Ethet can help him,” Nat said defiantly. The two jumped over an exposed root and Soris followed suit.
“Not everyone is going to be happy about this,” Annin said as she took the lead.
“I could care less.” Her stomach roiled at the pain in her shoulder.
They ran in silence. Both Annin and Nat looked back every few moments to ensure Soris was keeping pace. When the red boulder came into view, Annin fell back behind him.
“He’s coming with us,” Nat insisted again when they reached the membrane.
Annin scanned the rocks above and the forest around them, then addressed both of them. “It’s a little different for us to get through than it is for you.” She grabbed Soris and positioned him in front of the opening. She glanced back toward the path. “Not much time,” she said. “Send the orb to Barba once you pass over. As soon as you see any part of him coming through, grab on and pull. Got it?”
“Why don’t you go first?” Nat asked, suspicious it was just a ruse to keep Soris in the forest.
“Would you just get in there! I’m not going to leave him—he needs my help to get through,” Annin said.
Nat turned to Soris. “See you in a second.” She ducked her head and leapt through the membrane. The tunnel hummed. The orb left her fingers even before she whispered the order. It flashed down the tunnel in a blaze of light. Nat squared herself in front of the membrane, watching the weird shadows play over its surface. A bulge appeared, then another, until a human shape stretched against the layer. A single hand broke free, and Nat grasped his fingers and dug in her heels, pulling. Soris popped through the membrane and landed on the rocky ground. The membrane contorted again, pushing the bulges back as quickly as they pushed forward. Finally a foot appeared. She clutched the ankle with her left hand and pulled as hard as she could. She felt as if she were pulling a long rope out of thick, wet sand. Annin emerged, panting, and joined Soris on the ground.
“Help me get him up.” Nat clasped Soris under his arm. “He needs Ethet now!” Annin pulled herself up and grasped his other arm. They stumbled down the tunnel.
Heavy footfalls approached. Oberfisk came crashing around the corner. He swept Nat into a crushing embrace. “Did you manage it?” he asked. Nat cringed in pain and heaved the contents of her stomach over the front of his “Fish Minnesota�
� T-shirt. He dropped her like a bomb.
“Annin, get him to Ethet.” Nat croaked, wiping the vomit from her lips.
Oberfisk looked around, confused, and noticed Soris for the first time. “What’s all this?” he demanded. “Wait, is that you, Soris? Can’t be.” He whirled on Nat. “What are you doing bringing him here?”
Nat stumbled past him and caught up with Annin as she continued down the tunnel with Soris. Riler was blocking the entrance of the tunnel but stepped aside quickly as the three of them tumbled into the infirmary. The room was painfully bright and empty. Annin dropped Soris on the table and hurried to the wall of vials.
“Where’s Ethet?” Nat yelled.
Ethet burst into the room with Barba and Estos. She took one look at Soris and joined Annin at the marble table. “When was he bitten?” she demanded.
“Yesterday, midmorning,” Annin and Nat said in unison.
“The bite’s on the shoulder, we treated it with dennox and a medicinal wrap, but the venom was down his abdomen early today. I haven’t seen the wound since.” The words tumbled out of Nat as she watched helplessly. Barba cut away the clothing and bandage, stripping Soris’ torso bare. A bluish color stretched from his right shoulder down his arm and across his chest.
Nat felt her skin prickle. She turned. Andris stood in the doorway. His eyes were black and his jaw was clenched. He pushed past Nat and grabbed his brother’s hand. He closed his eyes. “No!” Andris screamed as he lifted his head. He turned to Nat. “Get her out of here! Now! Get her out before I—”
Nat felt all eyes on her. Soris rolled his head to the side, a look of confusion on his face. Estos touched her lightly on the shoulder and pulled her toward the door. “It’s not my fault, Andris,” she said. Her words sounded hollow. “It ambushed us . . .” She stopped. Andris’ eyes were full of hatred. “You can fix him, can’t you, Ethet?” she pleaded.
“Get her away from here, Estos,” Andris said through clenched teeth. He had a murderous look in his eye.
