by Lucy Smoke
“Why would you think that?” I ask innocuously. She frowns at me, lifting an eyebrow.
“I may be unworldly and untraveled, but I’m not stupid.”
“Then can you help us forge papers?” Holden asks hopefully.
“I’m not stupid,” she repeats with a shake of her head, “but, I’m not a forger or a genius. I wouldn’t know how to make it pass inspection. If I was, I would already be out of here.” She grins, but there’s finality in her words, as though she’s already partially resigned to living the rest of her life under her father’s thumb, running just to get a moment’s respite. “Pickpocketing I’ve picked up, but criminal mastermind, I am not,” she continues, laughing at her own words before her face falls into seriousness once more. “Beyond clothes and directions, I’m afraid I’m not able to do much else.”
“We appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” Booker says, straightening the new shirt slung over his shoulders, running his hands down the buckles lining one side of the black tabard.
I look around and actually notice that they’re all wearing the same thing, only in different colors. My own attire is taken from Halcy, short dark gray boots and darker leggings with a thin skirt trailing to my knees. Each side is slit but layered over each other so as to open as I move and still keep my modesty covered, not that I need it with the leggings. To complement the darker fabrics, my shirt is just as morose, but long and flowing as it tucks into my skirt at my waist. The sleeves slip over my shoulders and are long, but tight to my skin. They end in a sharp angled cut with a stretchy fabric ring that goes around my middle finger that allows the fabric to stay in place. The tops are held by the added crisscrossing straps across my back and chest that wrap around my neck.
“Halcyon?” All eyes shoot to the top of the stairs where a feminine voice echoes from the front door.
“That’s my stepmom,” Halcy whispers. “You guys need to go.” She points to the door. “That will lead out into the back alley and if you go straight down to the left and take a right turn you’ll end up on lower Main Street. There’s an upper main street, but lower Main Street is better if you want to stay in this area. Take it down closer to the docks and you’ll pass by the Inn.”
“Halcyon, where are you? Your father’s been looking for you all morning.” The woman’s voice grows closer and Booker, Titus, Holden, and Coen went straight for the exit door.
“Thank you for everything,” I whisper, hugging her. Halcy’s pale cheeks flush pink for a moment, lighting the skin beneath her mud splatter freckles that give her such an innocent young look.
“Be careful,” she whispers back. Luca pulls me away from my friend and hands her a small slip of parchment. “What’s this?”
“If you ever need anything, the people at that address will be able to help you. Tell them that Luca and Booker sent you, they owe us a few favors.”
I catch a glimpse of the words printed in curvy handwriting on the paper. The language isn’t one that I recognize and I glance between them, curious. Halcyon clutches the gift to her and smiles before gesturing for us to get going. The door to the basement opens and the woman’s voice speaks from the top of the stairs.
“Halcyon? What are you doing down here?” Luca quietly closes the alleyway door behind us as we sneak out. “You know your father doesn’t like it when you—” Her stepmother’s voice is muffled, disappearing in the background noise of the alley and side streets as we creep away.
Chapter 8: Holden
The docks of Chelsa are old and decrepit, rotting into the algae filled waters swaying along the edge of the town. I stare at the wooden spikes that shoot straight up from the murky depths below me. The edge of a half-submerged wooden plank that I’m sitting on makes for the worst viewpoint as the guys bicker back and forth, contemplating our situation.
“This is bullshit!” Coen shouts, raising his hands in the air in a gesture of frustration. “How could they have known we were here?”
The Inn Halcy told us about had been crawling with people talking about soldiers from Matric’s kingdom in town looking for fugitives of the crown: us. They were looking for us! Booker had yanked us away from the building so fast, I am just now coming to understand what went down. I glance to the side, but Holden and Luca haven’t yet returned. I know they hope to find lodgings somewhere at least for the night, but it’s unlikely. Chelsa isn’t a very big town.
“I disabled the GPS in the vehicle we borrowed, but if Matric sent out soldiers this far, then they’ve found it by now,” Booker says, his voice drifting over the water’s stink. No one is worrying about our voices carrying though because this part of the Chelsa docks is deserted.
“I knew we should have kept going, but you said we needed to stop!”
“Yelling about it is getting us nowhere,” Titus snaps. In my peripheral, I watch Coen clench his fists and grind his teeth. Booker shoves a long-fingered hand through his dark locks, grabs a chunk of hair, and pulls to relieve his stress. They all feel it now, the building anxiety that threatens to suffocate them. The kind that I’ve felt every day since Obidian came into my life.
What do we do now? Even though I know he hasn’t answered the last dozen times I’ve tried talking to him, I try and reach out once more, hoping something will change. The guys’ lives, their freedom is at stake. It doesn’t matter that Booker and Luca are technically not citizens of Matric’s kingdom. Helping fugitives is grounds for Matric to take them as well. It’s not that they can get help anywhere else either; their own council in Ragnarok seems to be either working underhandedly or turning a blind eye, according to Booker’s sources.
“Do you have another idea? Another plan? If you do, please share it because I welcome the contribution.” Booker glares outright at Coen.
“Are you saying I don’t contribute enough?!”
Once again, Titus steps between them. “When Luca and Holden return, we’ll—”
“Stop!” My yell silences their argument and all three turn towards me.
Titus’s blue eyes swirl, two flecks of gold swimming like little the sunfish that used to swim in ponds around Matric’s kingdom. Both Coen and Booker’s eyes are darker, weariness and anger etched into their features. One set clouded and dismal, the other a reflection of the moss colored water swaying beneath my dangling boots.
“We separate,” I say, decisively. “Split up and take different routes to Cephei.”
“That’s dangerous, I don’t like—”
“The soldiers are looking for a group of six, right?” I cut Coen off and glance to Booker for confirmation. He nods. “Then we separate.”
“They might expect that.” Titus tilts his head in my direction with a frown. “What would you do if one or more of our group gets taken? They know all our faces now.”
“Luca can change, no one will recognize him as a dog,” I say. “We’ve already changed clothes; we can go a bit further. I’ll cut my hair or something. Dye it. You guys can do the same. Or we could use another masking spell.”
“My masking spells only work as long as you are all within a certain distance. If we take completely different routes to Cephei, you won’t be.”
“His magic takes a lot of energy as well.” Luca and Holden slide down the muddy hill on the other side of the docks, returning from their trip.
“Did you find anything?” Titus asks. They shake their heads. The guys turn back to me.
“How will we meet up? What if one of us gets held up or captured?” Booker asks. His tone suggests that he’s entertaining the idea, but isn’t quite sure how to execute it.
“What’s a place that we can meet up halfway, maybe we don’t have to meet up at Cephei,” I suggest.
“There’s a train station that’s a little over the halfway mark,” Luca says. “I marked it on a map before we left, hold on.” He pulls back and reaches through his own bag before displaying a map of the area. Matric’s kingdom is one of the oldest marks and it’s a little satisfying to see it so far a
way from where we are on paper.
Luca redirects my attention though to a scribbled star over another black dot labeled with a little train symbol above it. “We can meet here,” he says.
“That still doesn’t guarantee that we’ll all make it.” Booker bites down on his bottom lip, pushing a finger at the bridge of his glasses and pushes them up. We’re all tired and running on empty, but he looks it the most in that moment.
“We might just have to take a chance,” Holden says.
“We did the same thing when we left Ragnarok,” Coen agrees. “It can work again.”
“We weren’t this far apart at Ragnarok, I could still feel most of you through the spell,” Booker explains. “I don’t like it.”
“It might be the best chance we have right now,” I say apologetically. “If you have a better idea, I’m willing to follow your lead.” He shakes his head before grabbing a chunk of his hair and pulling.
“I don’t and if I don’t, then you’re right.” He sighs. “Alright, we’ll leave tomorrow.”
We spend the night by the docks because they seem the safest place to be. At least these docks are. They are older and no one uses them… Two of us wake and rotate every few hours, keeping watch. By morning, none of us has slept well and we’re all drenched in exhaustion and morning dew.
After our decision, Booker insisted on scanning Luca’s map with a crystal from his own bag. It’s long and tinted a bluish gray. He smiles as I watch with fascination and explains that it acts as a memory crystal. It remembers pictures, messages, and anything else. There are apparently crystals that have an unlimited amount of memory, but these will be simple for even Coen and I to use. All I have to do is touch it and an image of the map will appear. Booker demonstrates by holding it in one hand and pressing a finger down on the other while reciting a quiet incantation that he says he’ll have me memorize, that way no one else but the people who know it can know what we’ve stored in the memory crystal. The stone begins to glow and in the air just above it forms a hovering map, the exact map Luca has. With wonder, I reach out and my hand passes through the image.
“It’s not real,” he explains with a laugh. “Just a copy so that we can all have a map and at least we won’t have to worry about anyone getting lost since we’re taking separate routes.”
“That’s so…” I try to think of something, anything that will explain just how amazing it is but I can’t. Holden smiles as he stops between us and he taps my nose.
“Tricks of the trade, princess.”
“I still don’t like the splitting up idea.” Coen sighs, leaning back on his elbows as he rests on the wooden platform of the dock.
“It worked last time,” I remind him.
“I know,” he says. “I see why it’s a smart plan. I just want it going on record that I don’t like it.”
“Duly noted,” I say.
“I think it would be best if Holden and Nerys were to travel as a pair,” Booker states. “Luca and I will be fine together—especially if he’s a canine. That leaves Titus and Coen.” Everyone nods, even Coen, who shoots a look at me to make sure that I agree to the arrangement as well. I smile at him and place a palm on his knee while I speak.
“We’ll meet up here.” Using my free hand, I point to the train station Luca has circled as our rendezvous point. “At sundown tomorrow.” All heads nod once more. “That should give us enough time even if we get held back right?” I look to Booker and wait for his nod.
“If anyone arrives early, that’s fine. The meet up time will remain the same,” he agrees.
I can feel my heart pounding, threatening to jump straight up out of my throat at any second as we begin to pack up camp and break up the supplies we have for each group. Luca grabs me up in one of his comforting bear hugs, pulls me close and nudges my hair with his nose like he’s already in dog form. I stifle a girly giggle, because that’s just not who I am... or was. I find myself feeling more like a girl around the guys. Maybe it’s the testosterone.
Titus comes in for a hug next, kissing me once on the forehead before releasing me into Coen’s arms. My face is on fire when I bury it into Coen’s shoulder and he chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest and mine. I lean back, keeping my hands clutched on his sides.
“You’re my best friend.” The edges of his lips twitch as he tries to keep a straight face.
“Was that in question?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Just wanted you to know.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I know.” He tucks me into his chest again before I can pull away and attempt to beat the crap out of the smartass.
Booker interrupts by handing each of us a ring. I stare down at mine. It’s a simple metal, formed and beaten into a perfect circle. When it sits in my palm it doesn’t look like much, but when I slip it onto my finger, it warms to my skin. First the crystals and now the rings. What else does Booker have in his bag?
I laugh when I notice that Coen’s ring is nothing more than a twisted metal piece that will barely fit on his pinky finger. At least mine is somewhat feminine. It’s delicate, fashioned from wrought iron that looks like a skinny vine. It’s heavier than it looks as it wraps around my ring finger.
“I’ve enchanted each of these rings to act as a sort of homing device. Remember, should any of us arrive early make sure not to draw attention. But if any of us are unable to evade trouble,” he pauses and five pairs of eyes look directly at me for a split second. I squint at them, but before I can say anything he continues, “the rings will alert not only me but the rest of us. It’s only for emergencies. I’ll need them back when we rendezvous at the station.”
“Thank you, Booker,” I say. He nods once and turns away, talking to Luca. I grin at Coen before leaping onto Booker’s back. The druid sputters and spins as I clamp my arms down around his neck and wait for the air around us to stop whistling by and for him to stop spinning.
“Nerys.” He puts both hands on one of my forearms. “We do happen to be in a rush. We need to go.”
“I know,” I reply lightly.
“Then why, may I ask, are you clinging to me like a monkey?”
“‘Cause I’m a cute monkey.” I squeeze tighter.
“While I agree with that assessment, now is certainly not the time.”
“On the contrary,” I say, mimicking his stern, intelligent voice. “Now is the best time.” I drop the voice and just simply hang onto him. It’s hard to tell him just how incredibly thankful I am to have met him and to have his help. I’d probably already be dead or in a dungeon back in Matric’s Kingdom. The words aren’t there in my mouth, so I simply hold on tight and hope he understands.
“We will be together again soon,” he assures me after a few moments of my clinging silence. The rest of the guys turn away, giving us as much privacy as they can as they continue to get ready. Out of the corner of my eyes, though, I see them all peeking. Titus and I still haven’t talked. I don’t know what to say to him either.
“Is there something in particular you’re worried about?” Booker asks quietly. I shake my head.
“Thank you,” I say again. This time, even with the anxiety in my tone, I hope he understands that I’m not thanking him for the rings or the crystals, but for so much more. Embarrassed by the sound of my voice, I bury my face in the back of his neck, inhaling the scent of rain and a summer breeze. Even pre-winter, he smells like that.
“I promise you, Nerys, you’ll be okay.” His voice catches and he ducks his head and spins so that I’m no longer hanging down his back, but down his front. Fingers trail over my forehead and the side of my face, lightly pushing the hair in my face away. “I will always find you if you need me.”
“Thank you for everything.” Is my voice breathless? I think it is.
Like Titus, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “There’s no need to thank me, Nerys. I will always do for you what I can.”
“Why?” My whisper is so quiet I can barely hear it. I need to know. C
oen is my friend and my protector, he will always be with me. Luca is... well, Luca is Luca. Perhaps it’s his role as a familiar, but even if he isn’t my own, I already feel an affinity with him. Then there’s Holden who I haven’t quite gotten to know as well yet and Titus. My lips tingle, remembering the kiss. Titus is complicated, but there’s something there. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like a fiery ocean storm and it’s confusing. I glance at over in his direction. Titus is watching us, his blue eyes intense and when he catches me staring, his lips twitch into a semi smile. I smile back before returning my attention to Booker.
“You’re very important, Nerys,” he says. “To all of us.”
“All?” I lean back, confused.
Green eyes trace the lines of my face. “You’re a very beautiful girl, Nerys.” I loosen my arms and drop to the ground. “None us want to see you get hurt.”
“You guys ready to head out?” Holden’s question startles me and I jump when his hand comes between us.
“We are,” Booker responds, though his eyes don’t leave me.
“Yeah,” I mumble as I turn away. “Let’s go.”
⚜⚜⚜
I stared down at the line of jagged cliffs above the pathway Holden was currently telling me was our destination. Clouds hover overhead, the wind cutting across the open space at our backs and pushing us closer to the dangerous edge. A glance up tells me that the good weather won’t last much longer. It looks like snow.
“Please, tell me this is a cruel joke.”
“It’s not that bad, princess.” Holden holds a hand out to me.
“Oh, no. I am not going down there.” I shake my head vehemently. There is absolutely no way I am going to climb down the cliffs of death. “I’ll slip and die.”
“No, you won’t, princess. I promise.” He continues to hold out his hand and I debate on pulling the dagger Coen had handed me before we left and stabbing him. I look up at his eyes. It’s harder to want to stab him when he looks at me that way though. Those big brown puppy dog eyes are worse than Luca’s. I gape at the distance between where we are and the bottom of the pathway once more before backing up and shaking my head again. No way. Nada. Zip. Ziltch. Not happening. Nope. I am not gonna die today.
