"They're small and live in the treetops. They eat fruits and vegetables. Monkeys are harmless."
"That's good to know. Thank you. Thoth mentioned the monkeys. We must be getting close."
General Demos nodded and the two set off stepping over a spaghetti bowl of roots.
His gaze drifted to the treetops and a feeling of deep unease took hold. "I feel like someone's watching us."
General Demos's tongue flickered. "I sense nothing out of the ordinary. It's probably the monkeys."
"Is that tongue of yours ever wrong? Because my skin's crawling."
General Demos shrugged and hopped over a fallen tree.
He followed and his gaze locked on the ground ahead. "What's that?"
"A game trail." General Demos pointed to the thin trail extending into the forest. "A swamp cat or some other predator probably made it."
He shook his head. "That's not what I'm talking about." He brushed past General Demos and paused a half-dozen yards ahead. He knelt and pushed aside a clump of vines. "Come look at this."
A square stone marker made of smooth polished stone stood beside a gum tree. Symbols worn by time had once adorned the face. But, any information they may have revealed had long since weathered away. The marker leaned at an odd angle pushed aside by centuries of overgrowth.
General Demos stepped forward and knelt beside him. "I wonder who built this."
He ran his fingertips over the symbols and shook his head. "Someone who never heard of Meranthia." He knew so little of the world. Sheltered from the past and oblivious of the future, the world held many secrets. He stood. "We should keep moving."
General Demos stood and gazed along the game trail. "That way."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." The general walked along the game trail and disappeared around a wide cypress trunk.
He tightened the grip on his pack and strode ahead hopping over a cluster of intertwined roots.
A long unsettling hiss came from around the tree.
His stomach fluttered. He hurried forward and stopped short of running into General Demos's back.
General Demos's arm flashed outward with palm spread open.
Heart pounding, he stopped in front of the general's outstretched arm. He followed General Demos's gaze to the game trail ahead.
A fur-clad creature with broad shoulders and a humped back stood blocking the game trail. Feathers adorned a necklace hanging from the ape's neck. The ape's meaty hand clutched a gnarled staff adorned with a skull and dressed with red and black feathers.
The ape's broad head tilted bearing an indifferent look of curiosity.
He glanced at General Demos from the corner of his eye. "Did they have these in Baerin too?"
General Demos's gaze never wavered from the ape blocking the path ahead.
Should he speak to the ape? It appeared the creature held some intellectual capacity.
The chirping of birds and the chatter of monkeys faded replaced by an unsettling silence.
"Hello." He cleared his throat and half-waved to the ape. "I'm Ronan —"
The ape opened its mouth wide revealing razor sharp teeth set in blood-red gums. The beast lumbered forward. Twigs snapped beneath its enormous weight.
General Demos moved in a blur of motion.
He reached for the longbow strapped to his back and fumbled for an arrow.
A tight groan came from General Demos's longbow string.
He knocked an arrow while General Demos stared down the barrel of an arrow trained on the ape's forehead.
A threatening hiss came from the general.
The ape took a slight step backward and its face tightened.
He readied his longbow and aimed.
The ape bellowed and lifted its staff high overhead rotating it in a tight circle.
The forest came alive with the deafening howls of apes and smaller monkeys lining the treetops. By the dozen, apes appeared from behind tree trunks. They held crude spears, handmade axes, and chiseled clubs.
Sweat poured from his forehead stinging his eyes. His heart raced and he tightened his grip on the bow. He spun in tight circles and trained his bow on each ape as they edged closer.
The ape in the game trail pounded its staff and held its hand high.
The chattering stopped.
The lead ape pointed its index finger at his chest and their eyes met. It spoke in a harsh raspy tone. "Elduin."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Harlech
With her arms wrapped around the healer, Tara peeked past Connal’s wing to the ground below.
The midday sun highlighted grassland patchy with late-winter snow. Groves of oak, alder, and birch dotted the landscape. A single-lane road cut a path through a meadow, and the edge of a town appeared through a stand of trees.
A long line of wagons, soldiers, and refugees marched along the road toward the town ahead.
She pointed toward the procession below. “Where are all those people coming from?”
“From the seaside villages,” Caree said over the whipping wind. “They’re fleeing the invasion.”
So many disrupted lives. Good people who had done her no wrong. People like Jo. She turned her gaze to the town coming into view ahead.
Blue, gold, white, and green soul threads mingled with the gray. Together, they marked the landscape like a lantern on a moonless night. The town appeared ready to burst at the seams. But, a silver soul appeared nowhere.
She let go a held breath and her shoulders eased. What had happened to Ronan since the disaster near Ripool? “What’s the name of the town?”
“Harlech,” Caree said.
Connal pitched right and glided above the treetops. Fat spring buds decorated the tree limbs offering the promise of spring.
She turned her gaze to the smattering of homes and buildings making up Harlech. Would she find General Demos in Harlech? “Do you hold any of them prisoner here?”
“Be at ease,” Caree said. “Those we’ve captured are well shielded by the knights guarding them.”
Her stomach flip-flopped. Where would they hold the prisoners? In the village? Surely not. She held her tongue. Too many questions would draw suspicion.
Connal glided lower twisting past a line of houses curling smoke from stone chimneys.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Jo sat atop Rika’s back. The teenager gawked at the soldiers and people streaming into Harlech below. Jo’s gaze centered on the village square.
She followed the girl’s stare.
Translucent shields surrounded two soul knights. Both men scanned the line of refugees with hands resting on sheathed blades.
She turned back to Jo and smiled.
A wide smile stretched across the girl’s face. Jo leaned forward and spoke into Rika’s ear. The girl gestured toward the shielded knights.
Connal glided between an oak and a river birch before passing over the village square. A chorus of cheers erupted among the soldiers and refugees marching along the road.
The guardian touched down beside an inn lined with a half-dozen tethered horses.
Caree climbed from the guardian’s back while Rika landed a few feet behind Connal. The healer offered her a helping hand from Connal’s back.
She took Caree’s hand and slipped from Connal’s back before landing with a squish in the muddy lane.
Connal shifted and the inn’s door whipped open. A blue-souled knight scrambled across the porch and down the steps.
The short hair on her neck bristled and her face flushed. She reached inward and hooked the trace amount of magic left in her reserves.
The knight brushed past her without a second glance. Breathless, the red-faced knight came to a halt before Connal. “Mister Prime Guardian, thank Elan you’ve arrived.”
Connal’s eyes narrowed. “What has you so worked up Jonathon? We’ve only been gone a few hours.”
“It’s the refugees sir,” the shield knight said. “They’ve brought
fresh news from the southern cities.”
Connal peered around the bustling square. “I’ll not hear it standing in the streets. Let’s get inside first.”
She pulled her leather cap low across her face and peered around the square. Where had they hidden the captured troopers? She hadn’t seen any baerinese soul threads on their flight into Harlech. She felt a sharp tug at her sleeve and she jumped letting go a squeak of alarm.
“Did you see the knights?” Jo said with unconstrained excitement. The teenager’s gaze darted from the shield knight beside Connal to the knights in the square.
She dipped her head low. “Haven’t you ever seen a knight?”
“I have once,” Jo said. “In Prynesse, but never so close. Can you believe it?”
“I’ve seen them once or twice.” She winced at the blatant lie, but she couldn’t tell Jo she’d slaughtered at least three in the past few months.
Rika appeared beside Jo and glanced between them. “You ladies must be exhausted.”
She kept her gaze locked on the mud squishing between her boots.
“And hungry m’ lady,” Jo said. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, my sister and I could use a hot meal.”
“A bed too m’ lady.” She faked a yawn covering her mouth.
“Of course.” Rika glanced between her and Jo. “We’ll have questions for you both, but not until you’ve had a proper meal and bath. Come with me.”
She and Jo followed Rika, Connal, and the shield knight into the inn.
The innkeeper, a wiry bald man with stooped shoulders, bowed before Rika and Connal. “Lady Finn.” The innkeeper bowed to Connal. “Mister Prime Guardian. I’m glad to see you both return safely to Harlech.”
“Thank you Mister Millard.” Rika gestured toward both she and Jo. “I’d like to see these young women fed and shown to a room.”
“M’ lady, the village is packed near enough to bursting. I’ve no more rooms left.”
“Then, they can have mine.”
“Yes, m’ lady.” Millard bowed low.
“We can’t take your room m’ lady,” Jo said. “What would the king say?”
“The king has no say in the matter as he’s not here.”
Her legs turned to mush and she gripped the back of a nearby chair. She wanted to ask what happened to Ronan, but she held her tongue. The less that came from her mouth the better.
“Might we clean up before breakfast m’ lady?” Jo said.
“Of course.” Rika faced Millard. “Can you arrange for someone to show these women to my room?”
Millard bowed again and motioned across the room for a blond-haired boy near Jo’s age.
The boy tossed aside a stained apron, slid from behind the bar, and crossed the crowded inn. “Yes sir?”
“Nathan, please show these women to Lady Finn’s room.”
Nathan’s eyes darted to Jo before falling away. “I’ll show them sir.” With an awkward wave, the boy motioned toward her and Jo. “If you ladies would follow me —” Nathan cleared his throat eyes darting again to Jo. “That is, I mean…if you wouldn’t mind following me up stairs, I’ll show you to your room.”
She hadn’t missed the red hue blossoming on the boy’s cheeks. At least Nathan had good taste in teenage girls.
Rika’s gaze shifted between Nathan and Jo. “Right then. Thank you Nathan. Sally and Becca, we’ll see you shortly.”
Jo curtsied and bowed. “Thank you for your hospitality m’ lady.”
She followed with an awkward curtsy of her own and mumbled her gratitude.
The stairs creaked under Nathan’s weight as the boy climbed sneaking glances at Jo as they went.
The stairs opened onto a short hallway with two doors on the left, two on the right, and one at the end. Nathan passed the first two sets of doors before stopping at the corridor’s end.
Nathan’s gaze met Jo’s before gesturing to the door. “This is Lady Finn’s room. There’s fresh towels on the basin, and I filled the tub with hot water not thirty minutes ago. If the water’s too cold, let me know and I’ll bring more.”
“Thank you,” Jo said. “That’s sweet of you.”
Nathan’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of crimson. “You’re welcome miss….”
“Sally.” Jo gestured toward her but Nathan’s gaze never left Jo.
She might as well not exist in the boy’s eyes which suited her fine.
“This is my sister Becca,” Jo said motioning toward her.
Nathan stood before the door and nodded. Several moments passed without further conversation.
“Can we go inside?” Jo said.
Nathan jumped as if snake-bitten. “I’m sorry. Of course.” The boy slipped past both she and Jo and walked toward the stairway.
She opened the door and Jo slipped inside.
Nathan paused near the landing and took a final brief glance down the hallway.
She entered the room and waved to Nathan before closing and locking the door behind her. “Do you normally have that effect on young men?”
Jo frowned. “What do you mean?”
“That boy. Nathan. He was smitten with you.”
Jo's cheeks reddened. “I don't think so. No boy’s ever been smitten with me.”
The room, no doubt the best Harlech had to offer, consisted of two rooms joined by an open door. A down-filled bed took up most of the space. Near the bed, a full-length mirror stood behind a basin filled with steaming water.
In the adjoining room, steam curled from a tub visible through the open doorway.
She took Jo by the shoulders and guided the girl before the full length mirror. “Nathan sees what I see.”
Jo’s gaze drifted toward the floor.
She pressed her fingertips beneath Jo’s chin forcing the girl to look into the mirror. “You’re kind, brave, smart, and beautiful.”
Jo stared into the mirror without speaking for several moments. “Who are you?”
Her stomach dropped and the room spun. Beads of sweat formed on her upper lip and she forced a tight smile. “I told you. My name’s Tara.”
Jo faced her and reached for her leather cap. “I already know your name.”
Jo tossed aside the cap and her auburn fell away stopping halfway down her back. Black streaks of soot and dirt caked her face and hair.
She averted her gaze. “I’m not a nice person. Not someone you would want to know.”
Jo’s lips pursed. “Most people aren’t nice, but you saved my life.”
“Why did you give them a different name? Back at the boat I mean,” she said.
“Because you didn’t want to give it. I’m not blind. I see things.”
“Thank you.”
“Do they know you?”
She turned her gaze to the floor and nodded.
Jo pulled open the drawers beneath the basin and rifled through the contents. “What if we change that?”
“Change it? How?”
A pair of scissors appeared in Jo’s hand. “We’ll start with your hair.”
Her mouth fell open, and she took a step backward. She’d kept her hair long for centuries.
Jo smiled and made a chopping motion with the scissors. “Come sit.” The girl pulled a desk chair to the basin and draped a towel over the back.
The change might throw them off. Besides, she couldn’t walk through a village filled with soul knights without drawing attention. She stepped forward and eased into the chair.
Jo picked up a comb beside the basin and ran it through her hair. “I know lots of tricks to stay hidden. When I’m done with your hair, I’ll bring us some food.” Jo cut free a large swatch of her hair.
She winced.
“It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
Jo worked for fifteen minutes without speaking. The sound of chopping scissors filled the silence. Locks of her auburn hair fell free and piled high beneath the chair. At last, Jo stepped back and smiled. “Perfect.”
“Are you done?”
“Can I look?”
Jo turned the full length mirror so she couldn’t see her reflection. “Not yet. I want you to experience the full transformation. Come with me.”
She stood and followed Jo across the room into the adjoining water closet. Cool air licked her exposed neck and dread swelled in her stomach.
“Get undressed and wash yourself. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
“Can I peek after my bath?”
Jo sighed. “You’re beautiful. Trust me.”
No one had done half so much for her. Not ever. She nodded. “Twenty minutes?”
Jo scooted across the room toward the door. “Twenty minutes. Wash. You smell like a horse.”
A smile stretched across her face and her hands moved to the buttons on her shirt.
Jo left and the door clicked shut.
She stared at the closed door for a long moment and a sense of emptiness filled her. A week ago she would’ve taken the girl’s life without giving it a second thought. Now, the thought made her ill. She’d rather die than harm Jo.
She undressed and slipped into the steaming water.
Heat spread through her body melting away months of built-up tension. She closed her eyes and relaxed while the hot water loosened her muscles.
A week’s worth of dirt, soot, and ash floated from her body turning the water cloudy. She scooped up a bar of soap and lathered her body from head to toe. The clean scent of spearmint and lemon filled her nostrils. She worked the soap into her hair washing away layers of black ash.
Her thoughts drifted to General Demos. If she could track down the general, would Andreas and Pietro allow him back? No, they would try to silence them both. But, General Demos held the common trooper’s allegiance. They would rally around Gregor.
Where had Connal Deveaux taken General Demos? Was Gregor in Freehold? She could snoop around the village after dark. She might even capture fresh pets and leave this place behind.
The thought of leaving Jo turned her stomach. How long could she survive without feeding? Three months? Maybe four? She tried to stop once before, but the attempt had left her ill for months.
No, she would find a way to feed if only to maintain her sanity. But, Jo could never find out. Despite the warm water, a shudder ran along her spine.
Maylin's Gate (Book 3) Page 20
