Taste of Darkness (An Avry of Kazan Novel - Book 3)

by Maria V. Snyder

  “What’s this?” Christina pointed to a black mark in the middle of Tori’s back.

  It was a tattoo of a skull wearing a crown of bones. Horror welled as I guessed the significance. The Skeleton King. He must have captured Private Tori.

  I explained my suspicions to Christina. “I have to heal her so she can tell us what happened.” My magic surged through her, cleaning the poison from her body and drawing the power into me.

  Christina grabbed my elbow, steadying me. “You should lie down.”

  “No. Take me outside.” I hated to bother Kerrick, but if my strength failed, I’d need his energy.

  I leaned on Christina. A few inches shorter than me, her left shoulder fit right under my arm. As we passed the fire, Odd sprang to his feet. He supported my other side. The world spun.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Christina answered, but her words faded into a buzzing noise. Black-and-white spots swarmed around me like flies. My legs refused to hold my weight. Then fresh air roused me for a moment.

  Odd’s voice cleared. “...doesn’t make sense, it’s warmer inside... Oh.”

  The sweet smell of spring sunshine engulfed me. I sank into it.

  * * *

  “...message for me,” Ryne said. “Private Tori remembers being tortured by the Skeleton King. He grilled her on our defenses and locations and when she refused to answer, he’d bite and lick her, claiming he was tasting her. An effective method. She eventually told him all she knows.” He sounded defeated.

  “Did she learn anything about his forces?” Kerrick asked.

  “They blindfolded her, so she doesn’t remember much about where she was or details about his troops. Her patrol had been assigned to sweep down near the border with Tobory and Sectven Realms. I didn’t expect them to encounter any trouble. The Skeleton King is much closer than my estimate.”

  Another problem to deal with. I wondered if I kept my eyes closed, maybe all our problems would go away. I ached from head to toe. Cocooned in softness and warmth, I considered giving into the desire to return to sleep.

  “Once Avry’s recovered, I can scout for you and find out exactly where the Skeleton King’s been hiding,” Kerrick said.

  Oh, no. He wasn’t going anywhere. My eyes wouldn’t open so I reached out through the blankets, blindly seeking Kerrick.

  “Avry? Can you hear me?” he asked, clasping my hand. His magic tingled along my skin.

  My throat refused to work. I nodded instead.

  “You’ve absorbed a very potent poison. It will take some time for all your senses to return.”

  I longed to ask how long, but all I managed was a squeak.

  Kerrick’s voice deepened with emotion. “You’ve been sick for three days. You struggled just as bad as when you healed Belen.”

  Belen’s injuries had almost killed me. If Kerrick hadn’t stayed with me either time... I squeezed his hand in gratitude.

  “Flea helped. He shared energy with you when I depleted mine.”

  Oh, Kerrick. “You...” The word hissed from my tight throat. Better than a squeak.

  Kerrick smoothed my hair away from my forehead. “Don’t lecture me unless you want me to return the favor.”

  A blurry orange blob smeared the blackness. It pulsed, growing brighter. Firelight? Guess my eyes were open after all.

  “Ryne’s here,” Kerrick said. “He arrived this morning.”

  “Hello, Avry. Good to see you...er...recovering,” Ryne said.

  I peered in the direction of his voice. A fuzzy man-size bush sat next to the fire. More darkness hovered beyond him. Nighttime or the limit of my blurry vision?

  “We’ll discuss the poisoning and the plague victim when you’re able,” Ryne said. “However you must stop healing these fatal cases,” he commanded.

  He could flat out order me to stop, but it wouldn’t matter.

  “This isn’t the time—” Kerrick started.

  “It’s the perfect time. She can’t argue with me.”

  Kerrick laughed. “Like that will make a difference. Avry will heal who she wants regardless of your desires. I thought you’d figured that out by now.”

  The furry edges sharpened. Ryne’s features came into focus. He gazed at me with a desperate intensity. Deep lines of exhaustion marked his face. Mud spattered his pants. I’d never seen him so...disheveled.

  “I know. But she has to realize that she is vital to our success. We’re so close to understanding the Peace Lilys, and Yuri—”

  I pushed to a sitting position. “What about Yuri?” My throat burned with the effort to speak.

  “He’s an...”

  “Careful,” Kerrick warned.

  “An opportunity to learn more about our enemy. Avry, you need to think about the bigger picture. Without the Death Lily toxin, we’re done.”

  He’d said the same thing about Estrid. And Danny could harvest... No. The young healer was safe on the other side of the Nine Mountains. I glanced at Kerrick. He peered at me in concern. Although I’d argue I was the one who should be concerned. Gaunt and haggard, Kerrick’s face showed the strain of giving me his energy. And I didn’t doubt he’d do it again if I healed another near-fatal patient.

  “Okay,” I said, sinking back down into my cocoon of warmth.

  “Okay, what?” Ryne asked.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “But—”

  “Go away, Ryne.” I waved my free hand. “We’ll talk later.” Then I yanked Kerrick closer and lifted the blanket.

  He slid in next to me along with a pocket of cold air. I shivered. He wrapped me in his arms and dropped his magic. I snuggled in close, resting my head on his shoulder. A slight rustle sounded as Ryne left.

  Kerrick huffed with amusement. “Ryne obeys your orders better than you do his. Maybe you should be in charge.”

  “I’m not ruthless enough.”

  “True. And I, for one, am glad. He is right, though. For purely selfish reasons, I agree that you need to be more selective about who you heal.”

  I growled.

  “Easy. I didn’t say you should listen to him. You know I’ll support you regardless. And so will Flea.”

  My nurturing instinct flared. “Don’t push him. He needs guidance, not orders.”

  “I can be subtle.”

  I pulled away to look at him. “You? Subtle?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re about as subtle as Estrid hiking through the woods.”

  “Hey.” But his protest lacked heat as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

  I reached up and closed his eyes and stroked his rough cheek. “Sleep.” And for once, he listened without arguing. Progress.

  * * *

  “With the Skeleton King creeping in from the south, should we relocate the infirmary?” I asked Ryne between big bites of stew.

  We sat around Kerrick’s fire a full day after I’d woken from the poison. Kerrick and I had slept almost twenty hours straight. After bathing and changing clothes, we both had been starved. Ryne, the monkeys, and Flea had brought out supper, joining us.

  “Not at this time,” Ryne said.

  “Why not?” Kerrick frowned at him. His wet hair glistened in the firelight and he’d shaved. But it would take more than one day of sleep to erase the dark smudges under his eyes.

  “If we have to engage the Skeleton King’s forces, the infirmary should be close to the action.”

  A cold knot settled in my chest. I hadn’t thought about that.

  “And then there’s the concern about the plague,” Ryne added.

  “Concern? That should scare the crap out of us,” Loren said. “If Cellina can start spreading the plague again, we’re screwed.”

  “I don’t believe it’s the same plague,” I said.

  All five men stared at me in horror.

  “Actually, that might be some good news.”

  No response.

  “And the rest of his squad mates didn’t sicken even thoug
h they carried him for a few miles. Is that also good news?” Loren asked.

  Good question. I dug into my memories. My mentor, Tara, had taught me the various pathways that a sickness could enter a body—through the nose, the skin, blood, saliva, and during intercourse. In Yuri’s case, blood was the most likely pathway. He had that gash on his upper right arm.

  “Ryne, when that spy grabbed you, did he cut your skin?” I asked.

  His fingers stroked his neck as he mulled over my question. “His fingernail scratched my throat, but I can’t remember if he drew blood or not.”

  “It might have been a dart or tiny needle. Did you find anything like that?”

  “No, but it’s not like we searched. It happened so quickly and, once he was dead, we thought the danger was gone.”

  “How much of this is pure speculation?” Loren asked.

  “Most of it,” I admitted. “Yuri and Ryne could have avoided being exposed to the original plague. Except...” I met Ryne’s gaze.

  “My sister was one of the first to sicken and I stayed with her until the bitter end.” Ryne frowned, remembering.

  “And don’t forget Avry’s speculations have saved our asses a few times,” Quain said.

  “If Avry’s right, this new plague is more accurate,” Ryne said. “Instead of wiping out thousands of people, it’ll just kill those infected. Looking at it from a military perspective, it’s better because it won’t kill your own soldiers as long as you’re careful.”

  His comment reminded me of Tohon’s claim of using biological warfare during one of my nightmares. Not that I could rely on a dream, but it triggered another revelation.

  “Ryne survived the original plague,” I blurted.

  “Old news, Avry,” Quain teased.

  “And so did Kerrick, Belen, Cellina, Stanslov, and Jael. Don’t you think it’s a heck of a coincidence that they all survived?”

  Kerrick leaned forward. “And I’ve met a few others from our class who lived through it while searching for Avry.”

  “Tohon never stopped wanting to be king,” I said. “But it would be a hollow victory if his old classmates weren’t alive to pledge loyalty to him.” And it explained his rage over Jael’s escape.

  “Are you saying he protected us somehow?” Ryne asked.

  “Perhaps.”

  “But that means he had to know about the plague before...” Ryne gasped. “He caused the plague.”

  “Not without help,” I added. “The Healer’s Guild was experimenting with dangerous material and are also to blame. He could have predicted the inevitable and done nothing to stop it.”

  “Just as bad,” Quain muttered.

  “Or, knowing Tohon, he helped it along.” Kerrick jabbed the fire with a stick. “How did he protect us? After school, we all went our separate ways.”

  That I couldn’t answer.

  “The reunion,” Ryne said. “Remember a year after we graduated, we all returned for the crowning of the next year’s king. Tohon was there.”

  “But why kill Stanslov after he protected him?” I asked, poking holes into my own theory.

  “Putting a knife through someone’s heart is more personal than them dying far away unseen,” Ryne said. “He hated Stanslov.”

  “And infecting you later?”

  “I turned into a real threat once I crossed the Nine Mountains with my elite squads.”

  “Even if you’re right, how does this help us now?” Quain asked.

  Ryne answered. “We know Cellina has tapped into Tohon’s research and isn’t afraid to use it.”

  “Still not helping.”

  “It aids me in understanding her, but how about the fact our enemy now has another weapon at their disposal? This new plague. Don’t get cut during battle and you should be fine. How’s that? Better.”

  Quain flopped back onto the ground. “No.”

  I agreed.

  “What about the Skeleton King’s poison?” Loren asked. “Is that another weapon?”

  “Of course. And we know he won’t hesitate to use torture.”

  The rest of us stared at the fire. All probably contemplating a grim future.

  “Do you have any good news?” Flea asked, speaking up for the first time. He sat on the opposite side of the fire.

  “We haven’t encountered any dead squads in a few weeks. Either we’ve neutralized the bulk of them, or Cellina has pulled them back into Vyg Realm.” Ryne tapped a finger on his lips. “It’s a nice reprieve. As for Cellina and the Skeleton King, we’ll just have to outsmart them.”

  “Good thing we now have Estrid and her army,” I added, hoping to brighten the mood further.

  Ryne and the monkeys exchanged a significant glance.

  Uh-oh. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Ryne ran a hand over his face and suddenly he looked twenty years older. He hunched over as if all his responsibilities pressed down on his shoulders. They probably did, considering he was twenty-seven and the fate of our world rested with him.

  “Come on, Ryne. Fess up,” I prodded.

  “Estrid decided to gather all her forces and acolytes and return home to Ozero Realm.”

  KERRICK

  The news about the Skeleton King had been bad enough, but now Kerrick felt as though the ground had just dropped out from under him. Without Estrid’s forces... No, he wouldn’t go there. It was too horrible to contemplate.

  Avry’s face lost all color. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I wish,” Ryne said. “Estrid’s terrified and plans to seal her borders tight, not letting anyone in or out.”

  “That strategy won’t work if Cellina’s army reaches Ozero Realm,” Kerrick said.

  Ryne shook his head. “I tried every conceivable argument and used every ounce of reason and logic I possess to convince her to stay and fight.”

  “Does anyone else think she’s an ungrateful bitch?” Quain asked.

  Loren raised his hand. “Me.”

  “I wasted a perfectly good dinner for her,” Flea said only half joking.

  “What about her army?” Kerrick asked Ryne, hoping for a bit of good news.

  “She sent orders out to her soldiers to return to Ozero immediately and I’ve sent word out that all are welcome to stay.”

  “Did you say pretty please? I’m not above begging,” Quain said.

  “Any takers?” Kerrick regretted the question as Ryne’s expression darkened.

  “No.”

  “Not even the odd squad?” Avry’s voice broke.

  Kerrick glanced at her. Odd had been the grunt who’d charged from the infirmary all concerned and protective when they’d arrived. A twinge of jealousy touched his heart. Did she care for him? Were they more than friends? Her pale face revealed a hurt betrayal.

  “It’s tough for Odd right now,” Ryne said. “Estrid’s still here and he’d pledged to fight for her, as did all of her forces. However, I’m thinking once she leaves, we’ll have a few...defectors.”

  “Wait. Estrid’s still here?” Avry asked.

  “Yes, she’s organizing her retreat.”

  “In my infirmary?” Color returned to her cheeks in an instant.

  Kerrick exchanged a look with the monkeys. All were glad Avry’s ire wasn’t aimed at them for once.

  “Just settle down.” Ryne put his hands out as if placating a skittish horse.

  Wrong move. Kerrick suppressed a grin.

  Avry shot to her feet.

  Ryne stood, as well. “We have to be diplomatic about this. Estrid might have a change of heart and return. She is the High Priestess. We don’t want to ruin our relationship with her.”

  “Burning bridges and all that, eh, Ryne?” Loren asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Isn’t Estrid burning a bridge by leaving?” Flea asked.

  “Oh, yeah, a huge conflagration,” Quain quipped. “But she has all the bridge builders on her side, while we’re left with a burned mess.”

  “Exactly,” Loren
said.

  Avry’s entire body stiffened with that stubborn determination Kerrick knew so well. He’d feel sorry for Ryne, but the man had brought this on himself. And truthfully, if Ryne was going to meekly let Estrid walk away, he deserved it.

  “I’m going to talk to her,” Avry declared. “The High Priestess owes me one.” She glanced at Kerrick.

  “I’ll be here. Go burn some bridges.”

  She nodded and strode toward the cave. Ryne shot Kerrick a sour look before hurrying after her. Wide grins spread on the monkeys’ faces.

  “This is too good to miss,” Quain said, following Ryne.

  “I’d better make sure Quain behaves.” Loren jogged to catch up.

  Kerrick glanced at Flea. “You can go, too. I don’t mind.”

  “Nah. Who wants to listen to a bunch of people arguing? Avry isn’t going to change the High Priestess’s mind. I’ve seen that look before.”

  He studied Flea. The young man had pulled his knees to his chest. Flea drew in the dirt with a finger.

  “What look?”

  “The death stare.”

  Not what Kerrick had been expecting. He delayed his response by adding another log to the fire. “I’m not familiar with that term.”

  “She’s seen her death. Looked it right in the face. Had that moment of knowing she’ll die.”

  “But she was frozen in the stasis. Sepp calls it a fake death.”

  Flea shrugged. “A person’s life doesn’t need to be in danger. It’s the realization of not if you’ll die, but when and how. The inevitability of it. It leaves a nasty taste in your mouth.”

  “That’s true for everyone.”

  “Yeah, but we ignore it. For her, it’s right there, staring at her.”

  Kerrick wasn’t sure if Flea was right or not. But there was no denying Estrid was terrified. “You said you’ve seen the death stare before. Where?”

  “Every time I gaze in a mirror.”

  Oh, no. “Flea, you’re—”

  “Don’t. You can’t see it. You’re not a death magician.”

  He resisted the urge to argue with Flea. Avry had said to be subtle so he tried another approach. “Do I have it?”