“What’s going to happen when that water runs its natural course?” I wonder, trying to fend off the cup hovering near my lips.
“Yer body is probably dehydrated enough to prevent the need, but just in case, there’s a bucket over there.” She points toward the entrance.
“Lovely.”
Sara’s rolling laughter lightens something inside me.
“There are worse fates than a bucket in a barn.” A renewed sense of our situation settles on her, driving off most of the joy, but an inexplicable serenity still surrounds her. Placing the cup on the ground, she says, “Ye never did tell me what they want with ya, but first, I’ve an explanation to deliver, if the interest is still there.”
“It’s still there.” Relieved to not have to drink any more, I settle back to listen to Sara explain why she possesses such unshakable faith in the One. I want to tell her about my dream, the prophecy, and everything else. For some reason, her opinion matters much to me.
Finding a comfortable patch of hay, Sara sits down, clasps her hands around her knees, and leans toward me.
“When the One made the world, it was perfect, but after the Outcast’s rebellion, his corruption poisoned everything. I have faith because the One called me.”
“Out loud?” I wonder, thinking perhaps we have more in common than I know.
Sara shakes her head.
“No. Here and here.” She points to her head and heart. My disappointment must show on my face, for Sara chuckles. “I know it’s hard to believe, but He chose me, Sara Andari of Coldhaven.”
My attention snaps back into place.
“Chose you, how? For what?” I don’t mean to be rude, but I need answers. My breath catches as I wait.
Sara looks embarrassed.
“It’s a silly notion, but now that I know it’s true, I’m flattered and scared and excited.”
“What’s a silly notion?” I demand. Her reaction makes no sense.
Trying to contain tears of joy, Sara gushes, “Since the time I was small, I always thought I would find the one. Not the One, of course, but His representative here. The signs are set. Nothing else needs to happen. Sometimes, I think I can see and hear The Lady, blessed be her name, telling me my wait will soon be over.”
“What signs? How do you know the being you hear is The Lady?”
“The dark ones return in great numbers,” Sara answers. “That is one sign. There are other signs, including you. As for The Lady’s voice, you will know her when you hear her call.”
“How am I a sign?”
Crawling over to me, Sara tucks her knees beneath her and reaches for my wrists. “These,” she says, running her hands down my bracers, “are the mark of the Chosen Redeemer.” As her fingertips reach the edges of my bracers, Sara’s head drops into a bow and her eyes focus on a time and place I cannot see.
I scarcely dare to breathe as I wait for whatever may come.
When Sara finally speaks, her voice is that same low, melodious, ageless voice I’ve heard before.
“The One’s Chosen Redeemer will walk the land when the Corruption reaches its peak. The Chosen Redeemer will suffer greatly, defy death, and use Kailon’s Gift to banish the Outcast’s army, redeem the lost, and heal the broken.”
I have no problem with the end of the prophecy, but the beginning is very scary.
Chapter 16:
The Long Road to Fort Amareth
The Lady
Coldhaven to Bright Hope to Coolwater Creek to Fort Amareth
In wolf form, Adam Castillo tracks Oren’s party from one village to the next. As often as possible, I let my spirit linger with him, renewing his strength and resolve in the mission. Leaving his twin sister to face the Denkari with two Arkonai companions has wounded something inside him. Though Katrina has no knowledge of him, Adam has always been aware of her. Visions of what he might say to Katrina once he reveals himself fill Adam’s head as he races through the forest. He does not doubt that she will somehow free herself, but he despises having to quit a battle before it begins.
Adam and his sister grew up within a day’s ride of each other, but their circumstances could hardly have been more different. Fearing what the political enemies Marcus gathered by the dozen would do to her son, their mother—Gabriella—sent Adam away with a dear friend when the boy was only a month old.
One would think keeping such a secret an impossibility, but a combination of Saroth isolation customs and my favor let the plan succeed. So Adam grew up as the son of Maggie and Aldo Castillo, humble tenant farmers on the Polani lands, and his twin sister, Katrina, grew up in her father’s house. Sadly, their mother’s fears proved well-founded and assassins struck Gabriella down before Katrina had reached her third birthday.
Although both Maggie and Aldo possessed minimal power, they knew Adam’s bloodline would guarantee tremendous power. They told the boy of his heritage on his seventh birthday, just before sending him to the Alamon Temple to be tested by the monks.
Under my influence, Adam found his way to Master Patros who taught him the Shapeshifter arts. Even as he poured himself into his training, Adam also devoted much time to researching his blood kin. The fact that Marcus Polani’s influence stretched far and wide made the research a simple matter.
Katrina almost ended up at the Alamon Temple to study under Master Patros, but I feared the strong bond between the twins would reveal the truth far too soon and endanger them both. So I sent Master Talini to offer her services, so Katrina could train from home. Master Patros would have been good for Katrina, but I find no fault in the training Master Talini provided the girl. Katrina’s speed at switching among her three forms can barely be matched by masters with twenty-plus years of experience.
Though only able to master wolf form, Adam’s tradecraft borders on perfection. When placed among a real pack of wolves and three other students in wolf form for comparison, only Master Patros recognized him after nearly a half-hour of steady observation. The other three students were identified within the first ten minutes by every master. Adam blended well enough to fool four of the five masters present. It was a proud moment for the young man.
Tapping into this pleasant memory, I channel the sense of pride and accomplishment to spur Adam on. I can only offer him determination and hope during this lonely task.
Unfortunately, I cannot provide details about what will come. I know only that the Denkari are not the worst Jackson Castaloni can—and will—summon if given half a chance. His plans for Vic most likely involve taking her to the dungeons below Fort Amareth where a dormant Darkland portal is rumored to be. How he will treat the Arkonai remains obscured in the nebulous nature of the future. Jordan Lekros will do his utmost to stop Jackson for his own reasons, but I hesitate to count him a committed ally.
When Oren’s party stops in Bright Hope, Adam hunts a pair of rabbits for his supper. Since he cannot risk a fire this close to the village, he stays in wolf form as he consumes them. In his wolf form he possesses the Sight, and thus, he can see the spiritual and emotional states of each person. However, his touch upon those spirits can only convey basic messages. Adam briefly debates himself over whether or not he should take on his human form or remain a wolf. He finally decides he should remain as a wolf, for that is the state where he can gain the most information quickly.
Throughout the night, I send Adam around to each of the faithful within Bright Hope so he can prepare them. Tucked up warm in their beds, most do not stir at his first call, but a few feel his presence and respond by lighting the vigilance lamps.
Once Adam rouses enough people, they spread the word on their own, freeing him to hold a vigil near the stable where Sara and Vic sleep. At this point, he hesitates, for he longs to free them.
I prevent him from doing so for several reasons. Should Oren find them missing, the innocents of Bright Hope will suffer. Also, with the threat of Jackson Castaloni’s arrival pending, the village cannot afford to be divided. Finally, Vic and Sara need to rest a
s long as possible.
As the level of activity rises around the village, Adam’s fear that Oren may rise and flee with his captives becomes more justified. A low, plaintive whine escapes Adam as he watches the flickering, gray spirit forms of Sara and Vic. The dull cast to their forms indicates that both girls are still dangerously exhausted. He silently pleads for my intervention.
I consider the request and grant it. Working through Adam, I channel strength to bolster their spirits, trying to heal them just enough to see them through. I would love to open myself fully to them, but the moment is not right. They would not know what to do with such power, nor would the village people be ready to receive them in their true forms.
As I finish, Adam’s heightened senses detect approaching footsteps. He presses his body deeper into the shadows next to the stable holding Sara and Vic. A growl builds in his throat as he smells Oren, Ederon, and Lerik approaching. Adam crouches and his muscles coil. Hot blood pounds through him. Every part of him wants to bring a swift end to Oren. His mind automatically plans how he can best conquer these three opponents.
Although the sentence of death would be justified in Oren’s case, doing so now would only bring the sort of divisiveness that could doom Bright Hope’s chances of surviving the next few hours.
My belief in Adam’s ability to control his instinct to kill does not waver, but I gently remind him of his duty anyway. His mind balks at letting Oren walk away with the girls, but he obeys and remains still while Vic and Sara are bound and forced to march down the main road.
When it becomes safe to do so, Adam moves to a new position so he can watch the strange parade.
Despite the late hour the street slowly fills with silent witnesses, both young and old. Most appear confused, some frightened, and still others frown deeply, but nobody dares to oppose Oren, who rides ahead of the procession of three horses.
The prisoners plod on behind. Adam cannot see their expressions, but the slightly brighter cast to their auras encourages him.
Midway down the street, Ederon leans over and hauls Sara onto his horse. I expect the same to happen to Victoria as the party’s pace is dictated by how quickly she can walk, and Oren’s impatience is obvious. Upon drawing even with the last house on the main road out of the village, Lerik hauls Victoria up onto his horse, and the party gallops away.
When they are out of sight, Adam relaxes. I send him into the stable for a long drink and a mouse to snack on. Thus strengthened, Adam presses on.
The horses force Oren’s group to stay on the main road, but Adam shares no such restrictions. Free to find the best path, Adam dashes ahead of the party so he can warn the people of Coolwater Creek before Oren arrives.
Just before dawn, the group reaches Coolwater Creek where Oren lets his men and prisoners rest and eat while he handles some business with the villagers. He manages to barter for five fresh mounts, but otherwise, the people seem annoyed with him, rather than fearful. Oren has no way of knowing Adam arrived before him and prepared the people for trouble.
The exit from Coolwater Creek bears eerie similarities to the march through Bright Hope. Starting at one end of the longest street, Vic and Sara are slowly paraded through the village while families watch in horrified little huddles. This time, however, when Ederon tries to get Sara onto the mount obtained for her, Sara refuses and continues walking beside Victoria. Though the gesture is a small thing, pride sweeps through me.
Tucked in the crowd in human form, Adam indulges in a smile as he watches Sara and Victoria lifted up onto separate horses. Then, as the villagers begin milling about questioning each other on what has transpired, Adam slips away to a private spot to become a wolf again.
For the last leg of the journey, Adam follows behind the horses in Oren’s band, stopping when they stop and pressing on when they do. Once he settles into a steady pace, he lets his thoughts wander back to his sister and the two Arkonai huntsmen with her, fervently hoping they stop Jackson Castaloni.
At one point, Adam stops on the crest of a hill and looks back at Bright Hope and Coolwater Creek, tiny and idyllic in appearance from this distance. Though his wolf eyes are sharper than his human ones, Adam assumes his human form to peer down at the two villages, one far to his left and one to his right.
“Will I see them like this again?” Curiosity and sadness tinge his voice as he addresses me.
“Many changes will come, but there is hope that when you see them again, they will be better than they are in this moment,” I answer, speaking directly into his mind.
Returning to wolf form, Adam again takes up the chase. He does not return to his human form until he stands on the edge of Bleakwood Forest, eyes fixed upon the impressive, vine-covered walls of Fort Amareth.
Chapter 17:
Family Reunion
Victoria Saveron
Courtyard Ruins, Fort Amareth
A heavy feeling comes upon me as soon as the horse carrying me crosses the threshold into Fort Amareth’s courtyard.
A glance at Sara tells me she feels worse than I do. The pale girl looks ready to attend an undead formal event, and despite her firm grip on the saddle pommel, I suspect a slight breeze could knock her head-first off the mount.
This place feels wrong. Even though it’s only mid-afternoon, the life seems drained from this place. The courtyard appears abandoned, but the high stone walls have many places to hide people. Thick moss softens large swatches of stone edges, yet there’s nothing soft about this place. Somehow, the shadows seem deeper than normal, like they hold dark, ancient secrets. I imagine eyes watching us from every side.
Nervously, I eye the evil-looking patches of dirt scattered about the courtyard that appear ready to disgorge hordes of undead. I wonder what will happen if we’re attacked now. The ropes binding me to the saddle hold me well enough under normal circumstances, but I doubt my special bracers would fail me just because of a short length of rope.
Although I try not to think about dying, I find the notion of perishing while tied up and presented like a war trophy frustrating.
“My contract has been fulfilled.”
I flinch as Oren’s voice shatters the stillness. A shot of fear drives off most of the sick feeling that had my guts in knots.
“So I see, well done, Huntmaster Oren,” praises Supreme Huntmaster Jordan Lekros. He emerges from the deep shadows to my right. “I’m surprised my son is not with you. Is there a reason for that?” The Arkonai leader’s controlled tone conveys a challenge. His stance remains casual, but there’s a stillness about him that tells us he’s more than ready to strike.
Sara gasps. I can only stare dumbly at Lekros, and hope my mouth doesn’t drop open like a fish given a good squeeze. Throughout the journey Sara and I vainly tried to get Oren to explain the details of his contract. Finding Oren’s leash held by the Supreme Huntmaster—leader of the Arkonai Hunting Guild and the closest thing my father’s people have to royalty—is beyond unnerving. It doesn’t make sense. I might be an embarrassment to some Arkonai because of my mother, but that hardly warrants a contract.
“My contract was for the girl, not your son,” Oren says evenly. “Give me my due, and I’ll take my leave.”
“Yes, your contract was for Daniel’s girl, but I find myself presented with two young ladies. Do you care to explain?” The glare leveled at Oren contradicts the casual tone of the Supreme Huntmaster’s words. He may not know Sara specifically, but he knows what her role has been.
Two seconds pass as Oren returns the Supreme Huntmaster’s gaze, but finally, he explains.
“The contract had a few … complications. The second girl is a hostage to keep the first one in line. Besides, it keeps the people of Coldhaven in check as well.” His explanation comes out with slow, sarcastic patience.
I frown at Oren, annoyed that he’s speaking about Sara and me like we’re stray pups he’s explaining to his daddy.
With a deep sigh Supreme Huntmaster Lekros rubs his head wearily.
&
nbsp; “This must stop, Oren. You cannot continue endangering Bereft.”
“He’s done this before?” I ask, surprising everybody. “What else have you done?” I demand of Oren, remembering Tellen’s comment about him being known as Destroyer.
Both men ignore me. My cheeks flush from frustration and the sun’s harsh attention. Despite the many shadows cast by the high walls, the sun rules over the courtyard’s center. Sweat builds up under the ropes, settling on the raw areas and generally making me miserable. Then, a cool breeze from the surrounding plains climbs the wall and blows through the courtyard, offering me relief.
“I finish my contracts,” Oren points out defensively.
“Your actions are starting to cost us contracts,” Lekros retorts. “Take your followers and return the girl to wherever you got her. I don’t mind who you hire to fulfill your contracts, but from now on, no more innocents.”
The laughter that bubbles out of Oren contains mockery and mirth.
“You’re in no position to speak about innocents,” Oren notes, gesturing at me. “You should be thanking me for taking the contract on Daniel’s whelp. You know nobody else would. I hear even your own son dragged his feet on taking the contract. Now, pay me.”
Reaching into his pocket, Supreme Huntmaster Lekros withdraws a small pouch tied with a thin piece of twine. With a casual flip, he tosses the pouch at Oren’s feet. The impact loosens the twine enough to let several silver coins spill out. The clinking noise strikes an odd chord in me. These coins—a surprising number of them—have been spent for my capture. Again the questions: Who would bother? and Why me? fill my head.
When Oren bends down to pick up his payment, Lekros moves almost faster than I can follow. One moment he’s standing stock-still a couple of meters away and the next instant he’s standing over Oren with his dagger pressed under the man’s chin.
“We have rules for a reason. Either abide by them or accept the consequences. You may be good, but you cannot always be perfect. Blacklisting will be the least of your problems if you defy me again. Do you understand?”
Awakening (Redeemer Chronicles Book 1) Page 9
