by C. Ellsworth
“The throne is more than a simple chair, girl,” the woman cooed as she stepped closer.
A shiver ran down Addy’s back, but she held her ground. She would not be cowed by this woman!
The woman stepped toward Addy, her hips swaying and her pale gaze wanton. She raised a long-nailed finger to Addy’s face. Ice prickles danced down Addy’s back.
The woman smiled. “Those bones . . .” She walked around Addy, her hand gliding across Addy’s left shoulder and then her back, coming to rest over the scar on the other side. “Those bones are the remains of every man, woman, and child who ever had the Power in them. They are infused with the remains of their magic. And whoever sits there is the master of it all.”
The woman’s finger traced the shape of Addy’s scar, the flying bird. How did she know what it looked like, its exact size and location? The scar was covered beneath her clo—
Addy blinked. She was naked! Where had her dress gone? Her cheeks flushed hot.
A melodious chuckle left the woman’s full, red lips. “So modest, are we?” She came to stand before Addy, her pale eyes moving to inspect every inch of her. “It is no wonder the kha’lat is set so blindly on your capture. You would make a fine birthing wife to him.”
A fire roared alight in Addy’s chest, and she narrowed her eyes. She would not stand here and listen to the suggestion that she— No! She clenched her hand into a fist and swung with all her strength.
But her hand was stopped short.
Addy was now in chains, wrists and ankles shackled to the floor. A small, desperate cry left her lips. “Let me loose!” Her voice was a growl, but her stomach clenched. She was trapped! Lord of Light! She tugged hard at the chains, but they were sturdy iron or maybe steel.
The pale woman—still standing face to face with Addy—shook her head, her long braid swaying behind her. “You are a difficult woman, but you can still be broken—you will be broken. And what you have will be mine.”
Something crawled across Addy’s bare foot. Then another crawled up her leg. She shot her eyes downward, jerking in her chains. The floor beneath her feet was a mass of swarming, squirming things—long, shiny bugs with dozens of legs; insects that looked like sticks; spiders of all sorts. And snakes! They moved toward her across the stone floor like a dark liquid and flowed up her legs. A scream rose in her throat, but her breath froze.
The pale woman laughed.
Addy woke with a start and screamed. Her companions bolted upright with startled shouts and hands reaching for weapons. Her eyes darted to the ground around her, scanning for anything crawling about in the dim of the night, but the only movement was the shadows cast by the flickering fire.
Karine began shrieking, drawing chills across Addy’s shoulder blades. The woman began tearing at herself and ripping off clothes as fast as she could, starting with her boots and pants. What was she doing? Liah raced to Karine’s side, talking in soothing tones and trying to stop her before she lost her shirt next.
“What’s happening?” Ryan gripped the handle of his sword, ready to draw it in an instant. “Are the canth here?” His eyes, wide in the firelight, turned to Karine, then Addy, then back to Karine.
Traizen had his two-handed hammer in hand, his eyes scanning outward into the darkness. “I don’t see anything. Not a cursed thing!”
Karine, dancing about with legs bared to her toes, shrieked again and grabbed up her water bladder. “It’s under my skin!” She pulled the stopper and began to pour the liquid over her arms and legs. “Lord, help me! Get it out!”
Liah grabbed at Karine’s arm, trying to stop her from draining the last of her water. “Stop, Karine! You need that to drink. Stop it!” But it was too late.
When Karine had drained the last drop, she tossed the bladder aside and dropped to her knees, absently dragging fingernails across her skin and leaving dark red welts. “It’s in my skin,” she sobbed.
Ryan stepped up to Karine, knelt before her, then took her by the shoulders. “It was just a dream, Karine!” He gave her a shake. “It’s in your head. There’s nothing in your skin!”
Karine didn’t reply. She lowered her head, her honey-blonde hair falling to hide her face. She stopped digging at her skin, though, and hugged herself, crying softly as she rocked back and forth.
Liah caressed her hair and whispered words of comfort, but she met the rest of their gazes with a helpless expression on her slender face.
Traizen glanced at the empty bladder at his feet. “Filth and rot, what are we going to do now? We barely have enough water for ourselves.”
Addy swallowed hard and eyed Karine. Her own skin still crawled from the memory of the dream, but it had been just that, a dream. A very vivid dream. “We’ll just have to share,” she muttered. “And we’ll ration.”
An exasperated sigh left Traizen’s mouth. “You can’t be serious! I’m not risking my life because Ms. Perfect Hair lost her wits!”
Ryan stood from Karine and shot Traizen a scowl. “You’ll share your water or you can head back to town and explain to Aeric why you’re alone! Again!”
Traizen’s eyes narrowed. “If you want my water, you’ll have to come and get it.” He hefted his hammer before him.
Ryan took a step forward, eyes locked on the larger man. Not again! Addy growled, feeling the Power building inside her, surging, demanding to be released. No! She took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. Another uncontrolled eruption from the ground might kill someone.
Addy stood and stepped forward. She would stop them if she had to knock them down and sit on the both of them! She opened her mouth, but her words were cut short when Traizen gave a sudden shout, his fist swinging toward Ryan’s face. Ryan ducked, and Traizen’s blow caught Addy in the side of the head.
Sparkles lit up Addy’s vision, and the ground tilted sideways. But she somehow remained on her feet.
“Damn your Faeged hide, Traizen!” That was Ryan, but his voice seemed to echo from afar.
Traizen growled, “Damn my hide? You’re the fool who doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut!”
Addy shook her head, vision clearing. Then Ryan appeared before her and took her head gently into his hands. “Are you all right, Addy?”
She pushed his hands away. “I’m fine.”
Liah—still crouched beside a whimpering Karine—spat, “You’re a worm, Traizen. You and Ryan both! If you two don’t stop butting heads with each other, you can both run back to town!”
Ryan and Traizen shared scowls, but neither of them responded, unless soft grunts could be considered a response. They merely stepped back to their places beside the fire and stared into the flames. Liah shook her head once more at the two men and then helped Karine back into her pants. Karine remained silent, her cheeks glistening with tears. It must have been a terrible dream.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Addy settled back down beside the fire. Sleep would be impossible now, though. Her head was throbbing, and there was a pale-skinned woman waiting in her dreams.
Chapter 24
Addy watched Karine from the corner of her eye as they walked together beneath a blazing sun that was intermittently obscured by the swarming black clouds gathering around the Tower. It was early afternoon on the fourth day of their journey, a hot and humid day that drew moisture from the skin like water through a sieve.
Addy wiped her arm across her forehead for what was possibly the hundredth time. Faege and ash, it was hot! Was it her imagination, or was it hotter in the Twisted Lands? She lifted her water skin to her lips and took a small sip, the water gliding down her throat. It was warm but still refreshing. She heaved a sigh and replaced the stopper. The bladder was little more than half full, and they were only halfway to the Tower. The water would not last, now that they had to share with Karine.
Addy held out her water skin, but Karine shook her head defiantly, her lips pressed together. She had taken only a few sips the previous day—the day following her episode—and she was gro
wing increasingly difficult. Stubborn woman!
“You have to drink, Karine.” Addy’s tone sounded like a mama talking to a child, but Karine was acting like a child!
Karine shook her head once again and raised her chin. “I was foolish.” Her jaws clenched. “I . . . lost my water, and now I will do without. There’s no need to put everyone else at risk for my . . . mistake.”
Addy stopped in her tracks and grabbed Karine by the arm. The others stopped as well, watching the two of them with tired expressions. “If you do not drink, you will grow dizzy and weak to the point where we have to carry you. And believe me, you will be carried. We won’t be leaving anyone behind to die!” Addy let out a sigh that bordered on a growl. “And what do you think our chances will be then, having to carry you the whole way?”
Out of the corner of Addy’s eye, Traizen’s mouth open to speak, but Liah jabbed her elbow into his rib cage. Karine’s face softened, her shoulders slumping, and then she turned her face away to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Addy let out a breath and pressed the water skin into Karine’s hands again. “It’s all right, Karine.” She made her voice calm. “It’s this place. I’m sure we’ve all had strange and uncomfortable dreams these past few nights.”
Karine hesitated a moment longer before she lifted the skin to her lips and took a single, tiny sip. Addy shot her a narrowed glare and watched the color rise in Karine’s cheeks before she heaved a sigh and took a larger swallow. Then they continued on.
The landscape changed as they went: wriggling vines seemed to move with a purpose, fern-like plants seemed to blink with tiny, eyelike beads on their petals, and then there was that rare tree that gave a sound like a tortured moan as they passed it. Those were sure to visit Addy’s nightmares in the coming days.
They were still careful with their steps as they walked, the haze atop the ground only growing thicker and denser the farther they traveled. And when the sun fell at the end of each day, that mist would turn into an opaque fog that blanketed the night. Traizen had warned them that foul things lurked in the fog, but a strong fire should keep them at bay the way it did with the canth. Too bad the canth weren’t afraid.
Liah, walking to Addy’s other side, scratched irritably at the exposed skin of her arms before letting out an exasperated growl. “This place eats at you like rot grubs. Why didn’t they warn us about that?” She shot an accusing glare at Traizen, but his gaze was fixed on the way ahead.
Addy flexed her fingers over the handles of her daggers. Her own skin itched as well, but if she kept her hands busy, they wouldn’t be raking at her arms. The image of Karine trying to dig off her flesh the other night still made her insides quiver, and the red welts on the woman’s arms were a constant reminder. “There are a lot of things we weren’t warned about.” She spoke that loud enough for Traizen to hear, but he merely gave her a sidelong glance before turning back.
Just ahead, Ryan stopped suddenly. “Uh, what’s this?”
Traizen stopped as well and looked around. Then he muttered a curse. “How did we get this far without noticing?”
Addy frowned. The knee-high twisted brush to either side of the path had grown thick, but what was so . . . ? Her breath stuck. Needles, long and barbed adorned the brush. Grimweed.
Ryan turned and looked back the way they had come. “What do we do now? We’ve probably been walking into this stuff for half a day. We can’t just turn around!”
Addy turned her eyes forward. The path was clear for as far as she could see, so perhaps they would come out of it eventually. “We keep going.” Her eyes met each of the other’s. “What choice do we have?”
Karine’s eyes darted around. “We should go back, find a way around.”
Ryan shook his head. “No, Addy is right. Losing even a few hours could mean death. You’ve all seen the canth on our trail. We could walk right into them if we turn back.”
Traizen grunted. “We could walk right into them if we keep going forward, but a few more hours out here is a few more hours the skeg could discover us.” He frowned, his voice lowing to a mutter. “It’s a wonder they haven’t already.”
Everyone turned their eyes to Karine, who—after a moment of hesitation—finally nodded. Then they continued on the path for a time, each eyeing the wicked brush just a few feet to either side. How had the trail remained clear all this way? It didn’t seem a well-traveled path; no tracks could be seen in the soil. Here and there, an odd drag mark broke the earth, but it didn’t look like anything an animal might make. It was almost as if someone was—
Traizen stopped, tensing, eyes focused ahead.
Chills raced down Addy’s spine. “What is it?” Her voice was nearly a whisper. Had the skeg found them? Were the canth closing in? There was nothing moving around them. The only thing of note—aside from the wide swath of thorny brush—was a single tree sitting in a small clearing in the brush ahead. That tree . . .
Ryan took a step forward, brows drawn. “Rot me! Is that a . . . a woman?” He pointed, but at this distance, it was just a vague shape.
Traizen’s narrowed gaze was fixed. “Be careful. Some plants can swallow a person whole. But what would a woman be doing out here? Is she skeg, maybe?”
Addy swallowed. A skeg woman? Like the one from her dream? Surely a woman as fierce as that wouldn’t be caught unawares by something as large and noticeable as a tree—a tree as large as a house, with long spindly branches that bore no leaves. “Maybe . . . it’s not too late to help her.”
Traizen shook his head. “Why should we help a skeg? We should leave her.”
“We can’t exactly go around it,” Ryan grumbled. “It’s blocking the way. Or would you prefer to take a stroll through the grimweed?”
Traizen’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowed at the tree, then he began to walk forward. The others hesitated for a moment before falling in behind, each watching with hands near their weapons.
They continued on that one way path until they entered the clearing. A few paces away stood the tree, the woman embedded into the trunk from the waist down, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Her face, pale and relaxed, was lowered and partially hidden behind waves of long, black hair. Was she sleeping? Was she dead? And where were her clothes?
Traizen came within a pace of the woman, his prominent brow furrowed. Addy stood just behind him, her heart beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. What kind of tree could swallow a person? Wait. The bark. It didn’t end at the woman’s waist; it melded with her skin!
Traizen stepped forward and raised a hand. “Hello?” His hand drew closer. “Are you—”
The woman’s eyes shot open.
Addy nearly jumped out of her skin, heart leaping into her throat. Those eyes! They weren’t human! No whites showed in those pitch-black orbs as she raised her head. She—it—reached a hand toward Traizen, her fingers bent into a claw. This was no woman; it wasn’t even a skeg!
Addy took a quick step back. “W-what is it?”
Then the branches of the tree moved, coming down from their arched heights. There were eight of them, each with smaller branches of its own. Had she seen something like this before, from a book perhaps? She took another step back, chest tight with fear.
The others were moving back as well, hands gripping their weapons. The eight branches touched the ground, and the trunk rose up and tilted back until the embedded woman looked down on them with neck craned. It was a giant spider, a spider made of wood. Addy let out a groan. She had seen something like this in a book! “Spideroak!”
The trunk of the spideroak tapered to a blunt tip, and it whipped up and around as the companions reached for their weapons. It raised a sharp leg and brought it down fast and hard at Traizen, who jumped back just before he could be impaled on its tip. It crashed into the earth, sending dirt flying.
Traizen and Ryan moved to the left, Karine and Liah to the right. That left Addy directly in its path, and the spideroak�
��s dark gaze lit upon her. Her heart clenched. Rot and Faege! She drew her daggers.
The spideroak hissed—a sound like escaping steam—and made to move forward. But Traizen, roaring at the top of his lungs, swung his mighty hammer and cracked it against one of the thick branch-legs. The creature let out an ear-piercing shriek and swung the leg outward, catching Traizen in the middle and sending him sailing. He landed with a loud grunt—narrowly missing the grimweed—and his hammer dropped a few feet away.
The others charged in and struck with their weapons whenever they could get close enough, and with the creature momentarily distracted, Addy moved in. But then the spideroak spun about once again, its black-eyed gaze narrowing on her.
Heart climbing into her throat, Addy took a wide stance. The tree-spider lunged toward her, its forelegs rising. Everything seemed to move as if through molasses. The spideroak’s legs were coming down, and in a blink they would crush her. She raised her daggers, but against a creature so large, they may as well have been twigs!
Abruptly, the creature flinched and let out another scream. Karine darted beneath the underbelly of the beast with short sword flashing. And where the blade bit through wooden flesh, dark liquid flowed.
The spider oak spun—first left, then right—until it caught site of Karine as she ran from reach. It charged after her, massive legs crashing into the ground in fountains of earth, and blood spilling from its trunk.
Addy shook herself into action, her blades rising as she moved to follow, but then Ryan raced past her, charging after the beast and a fleeing Karine. “Stay out of the fight, Addy!” he yelled.
Stay out of the fight? She wasn’t about to run away and let everyone else risk their lives without her! She darted after him with her daggers ready. Small, though they may be, those weapons might still be useful if she could find a vulnerable spot to use them.
