Messenger in the Mist
Page 12
“He believed your claim. He had faith you were going to report the assassination when it was time.” She searched the sharp lines of his face for any sign of truth or deception, but found only amusement flickering in his eyes, like each orb held a small fire of its own.
His gaze followed the curve of her cheek, ending on a stray strand of iridescent hair hanging below her chin. He abandoned his task of cutting up meat. “And do you?”
In the heat of the moment, Star had pushed her face right in front of his, and now she suddenly felt too close. She could smell his tangy scent of pine mixed with smoke. “Do I what?”
“Do you believe that I’m a killer or a prince in shining armor?”
His face drew her in, as if an invisible force pulled her forward. It would only take a slight movement to touch her lips to his and that thought scared her more than any Elyndra or dead journeyman.
She sniffed and turned away to tend to Windracer. “I don’t think you’re either.” As she retreated deeper into the cave, she could hear him laughing lightly over the crackling morning fire. The mystery of Leer was going to be hard to unravel. But she was up for the challenge.
* * * *
They rode relentlessly throughout the day. The countryside grew eerie and ill-omened as the mist coalesced around them, thickening with each pace. Star felt like a wraith riding to the end of the world, where the spirit realm met those who passed from life to death.
A dark presence loomed on the horizon in an ocean of black shadows, growing ever vaster as they rode to meet their destiny. Soon, Star could make out vague shapes forming from the mass. At first they looked uncannily like grasping arms and groping fingers protruding from a writhing ball of lost souls, but as she rode closer, she recognized scraggly branches and tattered leaves. Thorny brambles grew in this part of the land, as if it suffered a suffocating existence in the dense mist. Star wondered if any sunlight was able to filter through at all.
They approached the edge of a colossal forest thick with Blackwood. The trees hung over them, spilling onto the land like strewn towers. Heavy mist dampened the earth and the horses slowed their pace, treading carefully as the muck sucked down their hooves.
Star could barely see the tip of Leer’s broad nose in the shaded hood of his riding cloak. “I wonder if any journeymen have made it this far.”
Leer reined in Wildfire and turned in her direction. He had a crazy spark in his eye, a craving for adventure. “We shall see. I’ve never heard such a forest described.”
“It’s hideous. The trees look like the stuff of nightmares.”
“Funny. I thought they were picturesque.”
Star shot Leer a confused look before she realized he was joking. She rolled her eyes and continued without comment, wondering why he found her and their situation so amusing. As she rode on, she found herself smiling and realized his teasing jabs lifted her spirits, lightening the mood in this wild and desolate region.
Their horses picked their way through the underbrush and upturned roots as Star and Leer pushed dangling moss aside to pass through. Fervent life covered the forest floor. Ferns, vines, shrubs and the beginnings of new trees worked their way through the mist to claim the trickling light.
Star grew frustrated as a tangled branch caught Windracer’s hoof. “We’re moving so slowly. We’re easy targets.”
She moved to dismount, but Leer held up his hand and stalled her. “I’ll get the snag.”
“If the Elyndra don’t get us first.” She tried to hide her shiver from Leer.
Leer slid off Wildfire and freed the hoof. “Don’t worry. I don’t think the beasts can penetrate the canopy.”
Although Leer had a point, Star hoped they didn’t have to test his theory. At least the Elyndra couldn’t spy on them from above, and they would have a warning if one did try to break through. The broken branches alone would make enough of a ruckus to wake them from a coma.
When the woods grew dark, they made camp underneath the bows of an immense Blackwood larger than Star’s house in the outskirts and probably older than Star’s great-grandparents.
Although Leer spoke seldom if at all, Star wanted something to fill the silence as they spread their blankets by the fire. The woods around them trembled in the wind, the bows creaking as though they spoke a warning. Star positioned her bedspread close to the fire’s light.
“It’s strange.” Leer smoothed his blanket across a level patch of forest floor. “Such a large and fertile forest, and no signs of life other than trees.”
“What do you suppose?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a man of learning like your Prince Valen.” Leer threw a stick into the fire and the flames licked higher.
“He’s not my prince,” Star was quick to answer, taking his bait before she even knew that’s what it was.
“Really?” Leer poked the flames and settled onto his blanket, crossing his legs.
“I live in Evenspark and answer to our queen.” The conversation made her uncomfortable. Star’s feelings for Valen were all tangled up, and she wasn’t about to unravel them right here in front of Leer. She rose to her feet and looked for something to do in order to hide her blush of feelings. Windracer was her best bet. The mare’s hooves were gummed with muddied earth from the long day’s journey. Star brought out the blunt end of her dagger and picked at the crusted hooves, taking out her frustration on the impacted grime.
“I didn’t mean you follow him as your prince.”
Star knew how he’d meant it. She refused to comment further and a heavy silence fell on their camp, filled with intermittent chinks as Star worked the day’s ride out of Windracer’s hooves.
“You love him, don’t you?”
Star pretended to be highly involved with a certain stubborn clump of sod. “I don’t understand where you get your crazy ideas, but the feelings I have for Prince Valen are admiration and respect and nothing else.”
“Oh, is that right?” Sarcasm danced in Leer’s words. “Then prove it. If you don’t love Valen, then come over here and kiss me.”
Star was shocked beyond words. No man had ever asked her for a kiss and in such an utterly scoundrel manner. “Kissing you is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It wouldn’t prove anything.”
“Maybe I’ll just have to come over there and kiss you myself.”
Star dropped Windracer’s hoof and glared. “You take one step toward me and you’re a dead man. You know better than to attack a messenger.”
Leer laughed lightly. “You forget, I was a messenger myself.”
She drew her arm back to fling her dagger at the tree behind him as a warning when a strange sound came from the woods behind them. It was a sickly sucking noise, like a pig in a water trough. The leaves rustled. Suddenly Leer wasn’t the enemy after all.
“What is it?” Star whispered, stepping closer to the fire.
Another noise erupted from a different direction. Whatever it was, there were more of them around. Windracer and Wildfire danced around in skittish steps, tied to the limb of the Blackwood. Star wondered if it was more dangerous to keep them there or let them run free. At least if something happened to her or Leer, the horses would be able to get away.
Dagger in hand, Leer was on his feet before Star could turn her head. He put a finger to his lips. Star realized with dreadful shock he was going into the woods to find out.
“No!” She reached out her arm to stop him. “Don’t be stupid.”
Leer waved her back. “Calm down.”
The rustling surrounded them. The things in the woods outnumbered them and they were closing in. Star followed behind Leer, circling to keep all sides guarded. The sucking noises rang out into the night like the perverse grunts of an oversized boar. They were getting louder with each racing heartbeat.
Before Leer could enter the forest, the woods parted behind them. Star and Leer turned around just as a pale mass of skin, larger than Windracer, squirm
ed through the woods on a multitude of small hairy legs and into their camp. Two large antennae spread out like arms, feeling around. When the antennae touched the heat of the fire, the monster retreated, directing the large body back into the woods.
“The fire!” Star yelled. “Get as close to it as possible.” She could tell he wanted to fight but kept him back with a firm grip on his arm. They stood, back to back, the heat from Leer’s body a steady reassurance.
“Whatever you do, don’t attack. I don’t want to know what defensive techniques it’s acquired through evolution.” She didn’t like the look of the pin-like bristles on its body. One strike and they could be poisonous.
One by one, the giant caterpillars emerged from the forest, halting precariously at the edge of the fire’s warmth. Their myriad legs twitched in the firelight. Star could see two sharp and thorny protrusions coming from either side of their mouths. They looked like they could snap her leg with one clutch.
“I think the smoke and heat confuses them,” Leer said under his breath.
“Let’s stay right here until they go away.” Star stared incredulously at the monstrosities. The absurdity of being surrounded by caterpillar-like beasts was like some children’s nightmare coming true before her eyes. “Where do you think they come from anyways?”
Leer gestured with a nod of his head to the woods looming in front of them. “The north.” He curled his lips in a rare half smile. “Right where we’re headed.”
“Great.” Star watched as the slimy slugs retreated back into the darkness of the forest. “I can’t wait.”
Leer gazed wistfully into the night canopy above. His words were melancholic, tinted with slight amusement. “And the night was going so well…”
Chapter 17
Repellent
Valen stared through green glowing vials, waiting patiently as Odious, the kingdom’s chief alchemist, studied the fabric sample through multiple lenses attached to his spectacles. Bubbling potions and steaming liquids cluttered the tables of the laboratory, and misty cauldrons and caged rodents lay sprawled on the floor. Entombed in the far reaches of the castle, the room was lit by a series of torches on the far wall, their flickering light casting all manner of sinister shadows on tables strewn with old rolls of parchment and silver tools of measurement and dissection. The room reminded Valen of a torture chamber mixed with a mad scientist’s laboratory and never failed to send a shiver down his neck.
“It appears to be simple wool fabric, scented with a substance alkaline in nature.” Odious’s gaze was glued to the magnifying glass. Various experiments lay scattered around him in shallow glass dishes, displayed like an exotic feast for mice.
Indeed, Valen thought with mild disgust, the mice would come later, subjected to the dishes for clinical purposes. He stifled a shudder and walked over to the far side of the table where a lizard coiled around a broken tree limb, a slender chain clasped around its neck.
“Yes, but do you have any guess what it does?” Valen took a piece of crumb from a discarded meal left on a platter by the door and held it between the bars of a magpie’s cage. The bird hopped hesitantly toward his fingers, turning a wary black eye in his direction.
“It’s not for stealth, that’s for sure. You can smell it five feet away.” Odious finally looked up at Valen. “And Crayraven won’t eat from anyone’s hands, so you can just give up now.”
“But why would the man spray it all over his cloak?” Valen ignored the suggestion about the bird. His fingers held the crumb steady and patiently as he whistled a gentle tune. It hopped closer and pivoted its feathery head in a questioning glance but did not reach for the crumb.
“It’s got to be for some kind of protection, maybe against water damage or wind.”
“Why sacrifice stealth to ensure the life of a cloak? It’s more important than mere weather protection.”
“I’m not certain yet. Your theory must be tested.”
Before Valen could stop him, Odious held the clothing scrap to a caged rabbit. “What are you doing?” Valen raised his voice in alarm. “It may be poisonous.”
“I’m doing my job.” Odious unbolted the cage door.
Valen watched with horror as the furry angora hopped close to the fabric. It took one sniff, identified it as nonfood and disregarded Odious’s offering like old news. Valen realized he was holding his breath and let out a sigh of relief. He had no stomach for experimentation.
Meanwhile, the magpie inched closer to the bread crumb resting in Valen’s fingertips.
“It has no effect on mammals.” Odious seemed baffled. “And with enough water, it washes away.”
The bird took the final hop to Valen’s fingertips, accepting the crumb with a gentle peck. A rush of success flooded his senses. If a bird could trust him, then he might be able to win the hearts of his countrymen after all. He looked to Odious with a grin, but the alchemist was still enthralled with the fabric, this time rubbing it on a piece of parchment, like it held some secret message.
As he waited, Valen watched as gray and white moths flitted around the flaming torches at the opposite end of the room. It was almost as if the moths teased death. Some flew directly into the fire, their powdery wings consumed in seconds. Valen wondered why the moths were captivated by the object causing their demise. Why did their distant relatives, the Elyndra, possess the intelligence to avoid the flames when their smaller cousins did not?
Suddenly Valen had an idea. Walking across the room, he took the piece of fabric from Odious’s eager fingertips, ignoring his questioning complaints, and held it to the hovering moths. Instantly, they flittered away to the far reaches of the cobwebbed ceiling.
“That’s it!” Valen held the fabric like a prize. “It’s a repellent of some sort. It keeps the Elyndra away.”
“That’s how the intruder navigates the walls outside the fortress unharmed. The substance repels them. But why?” Odious asked, more rhetorically. “What is it about the odor they disfavor so vehemently?”
“Why is not the most important question right now.” Valen searched Odious’s eyes with hope. “What I want to know is can you copy it?”
Suddenly, a horn sounded down the echoing halls leading throughout the castle. It was a long wailing call, followed by two short utterances. Seconds later it was repeated again.
Odious walked toward the hall to peek his head out. “What is going on?”
“It is a warning signal.” Valen draped the cloak over a chair, his thoughts turning to the guards stationed on the wall. He hoped they were prepared.
The alchemist walked toward the door to check out the situation, and Valen ran over to pull him back. “Listen to me, this is crucial.” Valen’s grip tightened on his arm. “Stay inside and bolt your door. We’re going to need as many odor-soaked cloaks as possible. Get to work on reproducing that repellent.”
“But why?”
Valen’s eyes rose to the ceiling, looking beyond the castle walls. He let the old man go as his hand moved instinctively toward the hilt of his sword. “That is a distinctive alarm. The mist is rising.”
* * * *
People scattering in alarm clogged the streets of Ravencliff. Valen had to fight his way to the battlements. There was chaos everywhere and so many people needing help.
Valen tripped over a young, drunk squire. The man looked up groggily before recognizing the Prince of Ravencliff. “Your Highness, my apologies…”
“Not now.” Valen waved him back as he stood. “Get up and get under cover. There isn’t much time.”
The squire froze, suddenly sobered with shock and disbelief.
“Go.” Valen pulled him to his feet. “Get yourself somewhere safe.”
Valen turned and heard a young girl’s screams rise up from the shouts to hide and the whinnies of finicky horses. He saw a small, frumpy street urchin left alone in the marketplace holding a grimy doll in one hand, the other dragging a moth-eaten shawl on the ground.
The girl choked on sobs. Her tear-stained face told him she’d been crying for a long time now and her body shook with exhaustion. She looked at him as if he were trying to trick her and refused to answer, shaking her head.
There was no time for polite explanations. Valen snatched her up in both arms and ran to the healer’s quarters underneath the parapets. The woman in white robes looked up from her bundle of bottles and vials, startled at the sight of the prince with a grubby rascal from the street.
“Please take her. She’s lost her mother.” He handed the girl over to the older woman. He looked at the others in the room. “And the rest of you—be prepared. War is upon us and your skills will be needed.”
When he finally reached the top of the parapets, the soldiers had already begun piling up sandbags on top of the steep wall. The commander-in-chief, Stoughton Rile, met him halfway, bowing ceremoniously despite the chaos that surged behind him. “Your Highness.”
Valen ignored his formalities. “How far?”
His answer came with one look over the commander’s shoulders. The mist seeped through cracks in the sandbags, surpassing the fortress walls.
“We are keeping it at bay, Your Highness.” Rile defended his station with confidence. “Only small tendrils are creeping through. I have every man that can shoot an arrow equipped and ready to fire.”
For Valen, that wasn’t enough. “Is it still rising or has it stopped?”
The commander squinted, looking back over his shoulder. “Hard to say.”
A sudden gust of air threw Valen’s hair back from his forehead and sent his cloak whipping behind him. Valen turned to the north. The mist traveled fast, aided by the unseasonable wind. Ladders teetered in the raging gale as the lookouts climbed with bows in hand to keep abreast of the growing wall. Valen ran to steady one ladder as an archer reached the top. The young man’s face was hardened for the battle, but Valen saw fear, raw and untamed, shine in his eyes.