Ever tapped her on the nose. “You mean I will be going in the morning. I think it would probably be for the best if you remained here.”
“Ever,” she grumbled pathetically, “I want to go. We’ve been through this how many times?”
“That’s not what I’m referring to.” He pushed himself up to face her. “I am referring to the fact that this particular case has had you rather... emotional. I don’t know if it’s best for you to come until you’re more settled internally.”
“You know you need me.”
“I’m not disputing that now, nor will I ever.”
“So?”
“So I just don’t want you to put yourself at an unnecessary risk because you’re too wrapped up in the moment. I think some distance would do you good.”
“I do need distance.” Isa somehow managed to crawl even closer. “Launce and Olivia won’t be leaving for several more days at least. Olivia’s not feeling well enough. If I need distance from anyone, it’s from them!”
Ever groaned as Isa watched him with her most pleading look. He knew she was using her power on him, although he was rather sure she was doing it unconsciously, as she often did when she felt strongly about something. And as much as he wanted to deny it, she spoke the truth, for he knew that her gift would be most useful in the forest if they found anyone of interest. “Very well, we’ll talk to Acelet by first light.”
Before he could roll over to go to sleep though, Ever found his wife’s mouth suddenly on his, and immediately, all thoughts of sleep vanished. He didn’t need to be asked twice.
CHAPTER FIVE
His Father's Eyes
“Acelet,” Isa called out to the general, who rode up ahead of her, “how many at last count?”
As he thought, the general rubbed the back of his neck, which was probably stiff, Isa guessed, from the furious pace Ever had pushed them at since leaving the Fortress that morning. “My scouts brought in reports last night of two hundred and six, but I believe it might be higher than that.”
“Why is that?” she asked.
“The woodland towns haven’t reported losing any children, but I’m assuming they’ve had children go missing as well. They just don’t like to send messengers up our way very much. The fools would rather handle their problems themselves.” He looked at Ever. “And they don’t much like you, Your Highness.”
Ever gave him a sardonic look. “I think I shall survive.”
Acelet smiled wryly before turning back to Isa. “Anyhow, I simply think there are a number of children who have probably gone missing and their parents have not come to us to tell of it. Hold now, is this it?”
They had come to a stop, and Ever was too busy studying the forest before them to answer, so the party simply waited. Isa had never been to this part of Destin before, and now that she was here, she was rather sure she hadn’t missed much. The forests weren’t thick and tall the way they were in the woods closer to home. Rather, the trees rose out of the ground like long, thin snakes with their heads turned toward the skies. The ground itself was wet and resembled a marsh much more than a forest. Isa was suddenly also sure that it probably hid an assortment of animals she would prefer not to meet. As she drew quick breaths in and out, the sickly, moist air clung to her lungs and made breathing more labored. No, Isa decided, she did not like the southern forest at all.
But it was better than staying at home to face Launce and Olivia’s constant looks of guilt and pity.
“We’ll walk slowly from here,” Ever said as he dismounted and took his horse by the reins. “There is a source of power nearby. I can feel it.”
“Thank the Maker,” Isa heard one of the young soldiers behind her remark to one of his comrades. “I was going to puke if we ran another mile at that pace.”
Isa didn’t mind the speed at which Ever used his power to hasten their travel. What should have been a three-day journey had taken place in less than one. And the view had been incredible. Isa had seen everything in one day from their own mountain to valleys and plains to a great chasm of dark blue granite, which could only be passed using a bridge wide enough for one horse to pass over at a time. But now that they had arrived, the sobering reminder of why they had made such a journey settled upon her once more.
“So many broken hearts,” she murmured.
“What was that, Your Highness?”
“Oh,” she shook her head, “only that I can feel the heartbreak.” She looked up through the trees into the gray sky overhead. “Even here, the sorrow of their parents is thick in the air.” Ever had been right. They were getting close.
At such a statement, an air of solemnity filled the group, and they passed on quietly, following Ever as he led them forward. Isa tried to focus, but as they moved deeper into the forest, and the despair of the many families wrapped about her like a hot, stuffy cloak, Isa’s thoughts turned, as they did so often of late, to the child that by past Fortier standards, she should have had by now.
If all had gone as tradition had led them to believe it would, Isa would have conceived the month they had been married. It would have been a boy, as all the Fortiers had boys first, and he would have been three years old by now. She knew what he would have looked like, too. His eyes would have been the same shade of stormy gray-blue as his father’s eyes were, and his hair would have been darker than Ever’s, probably with just a hint of her own copper red. He would have had his father’s stubborn jaw, and might have ended up being even a bit taller than his father.
Not that any of that mattered. What mattered was that whether he had golden hair, red, or even white hair, it wasn’t there for Isa to kiss to sleep at night. There were no chubby arms or legs or cheeks to squeeze, and no little hand to hold. And though Isa knew the Fortress made no mistakes, she couldn’t help feeling that she had been robbed of something very precious, for her arms were still empty.
And so were the arms of hundreds of other parents, Isa scolded herself. Now was not the time for a good cry, though she suddenly wanted very much to have one. Even the thought of her imaginary son being stolen from her in the dark of night angered Isa to a place of danger, and if she couldn’t have a child of her own to keep safe, Isa swore to herself, she was going to do everything in her power to return these children to their families. No one should have to suffer such a terrible fate as to live wondering where a child had gone and what had become of him. Then she felt it.
“Wait!”
Everyone stopped and turned to look at her, but Isa only dismounted her horse and handed the reins to one of the soldiers nearby.
“Isa?” Ever asked warily. When she didn’t respond, he drew his sword and began to follow her, but Isa didn’t stop. Her fingers and toes and even her chest felt alive, humming like a hive of bees. Never had she felt such a powerful pull before, and without knowing where she was going, her feet carried her towards the source. Heartbreak. So much heartbreak. Loneliness, curiosity, and terror. The terror was thicker than any other feeling Isa could sense in the air. But this terror was different from that of the parents that she had felt earlier. Unable to utter a word, so filled with the need to find the children who were producing such emotions, Isa broke into a run.
“Isa, slow down!”
But Isa couldn’t slow down. The feelings were too strong for her to ignore or break away from. It was as though they had stitched themselves right to her own heart, and were pulling her in without her permission. Ever had been right. She was too wrapped up in this struggle to come. It was too personal. She should have stayed behind. And now she was letting her heart lead her, rather than her head. Still, the vine-like trees continued to fly past her as she raced into the heart of the sickly wood.
Until she came to the house.
“Here,” she said breathlessly as Ever came to stand beside her. “The children are here.”
“All two hundred and six?” Ever cast a doubtful look at the ramshackle little cottage.
Even with the second story, there couldn�
�t have been more than three rooms in the entire house, certainly not enough space for a quarter of so many children. And yet, the pull of terror was stronger than ever.
“Do you smell that?”
“Smell what?”
“It’s sweet,” she said, approaching the house. “Like... the scent of sugar.” For a brief instant, a vision flashed through her mind, and instead of the crumbling stone house that stood before her, Isa saw a house made of every kind of candy imaginable. Red and white striped sugar stick columns supported the roof, rather than the collapsing wooden beams she had seen just a moment ago. Bright lemon drops, dark green mint drops, and even brown honey drops made up the walls, rather than gray, round stones. Roses made of chocolate, a rare delicacy Isa had only tasted after she’d come to the Fortress, lined the path up to the door, and unfamiliar blue truffles were arranged alongside them. Dozens of other sweets, unknown to Isa, made the house into the loveliest and most inviting sight she had ever seen.
But then the vision was gone, as was the scent, and Isa was left touching one of the dirty rock walls. “Whoever did this lied to the children.” She turned to Ever.
“Lied to them?” Ever frowned at her.
“I think... I think I know what they saw!” she exclaimed. “The thief used an illusion of sorts to draw them here, making them think the house was made of sweets.”
Ever looked at her as though she’d lost her mind, but said nothing as he moved closer to the house to examine it for himself. “Perhaps that would explain why no one saw these children leave,” he said. “If the thief had the ability to create such a grand illusion, perhaps he had the ability to cover the children with an illusion as well while they walked here.” He turned to Isa, the blue rings of fire burning intensely in his eyes. “They must have walked for days,” he said, wonder and horror mixing in his voice. “Some of the children were reported missing from near the border of Tumen, and others from the coast!”
Isa was about to respond when another wave of fear crashed through her. Again, she felt the immediate, driving need to find its source. As she began to open the cottage’s door, Ever blocked her path.
“Isa, I know you are excited about this, but you need to take care,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he grabbed her arm. “I am serious. You need to unsheathe your sword and walk cautiously, or I will pack you up myself and send you home.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“I would, just as I would do to any of my soldiers unfit for duty. Something is very wrong here. Now, I need you to focus—”
“Mummy!”
The cry had come from inside the home. It was a little girl’s cry, and the sorrow and fear within it touched Isa in a way no other voice had moved her before. In a moment, she had torn away from her husband’s grasp, and had burst through the slanted front door. She could hear Ever shouting to his men behind her, but there was no time to wait. The cry came again, and Isa darted deeper in. As she did so, however, her foot caught on a loose stone, and sent her sprawling across the dusty ground, where her head came down on the floor with a very painful crack.
CHAPTER SIX
Too Close
“Well, where is she?” Acelet squinted into the darkness of the dilapidated cottage.
“Wherever the children are, I assume.” Ever stood and shoved his sword back into its sheath with more force than was necessary. What had she been thinking, taking off like that?
“What do you wish us to do?” Acelet looked more than a bit unnerved, shifting his weight back and forth as he awaited Ever’s answer, and Ever couldn’t fault him for it. Acelet had ridden, unblinking, into every battle Ever had ever waged, and had seen more than his fair share of strange goings-on in the world. But the evil in this place was nearly tangible. Though it was decently humid outside, the cabin itself was dry and chilly with the kind of cold that raised bumps on one’s skin. Each strange little breeze that wafted from darkened, cobwebbed corners was one that shouldn’t have been, as there was no wind outside. And just inside the horrid little cabin, the queen had disappeared.
“Set up a watch around the cabin. I want no fewer than five men surrounding it at all times. And notify me of anything that moves. I don’t care if it’s a chipmunk. I want to see it myself.” He walked back to the entrance and gestured at a clearing just before the cabin. “Set up camp, for the time being, just a small way from the entrance. I want another look around.”
Acelet hesitated, but Ever only waved him on. When he was finally alone again, Ever let out a deep breath and rubbed his face before he began to explore. It had taken all of his self-control not to explode when Isa had disappeared, just as his hands should have closed in around her waist to yank her back.
This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to take his wife.
Since they had been married, Isa hadn’t been vested in any local disturbances the way she had been in this one. From the first report of a missing child, however, Isa had poured her heart and soul into finding the girl. And then the second child, which was a boy. And then the third. And on the pursuit had gone, a piece of Isa’s heart becoming further wrapped up with each child that was reported gone. Of course, it didn’t help that Launce and his wife had shown up the night before with their little surprise.
“I’m not sure it’s fair to be upset with them,” Garin had warned him early that morning as Ever had prepared to leave. “Having a child is not a crime.”
“They gave Isa no time to prepare,” Ever had huffed as he’d rolled the maps they would need and then had placed them in a pile. “They could have at least written, instead of springing it upon her publicly.”
“True,” Garin had said as he’d watched Ever make his preparations. “But they are young and were obviously quite uncomfortable telling her. They weren’t callous, at least.”
“Have you ever wondered,” Ever had turned to his mentor suddenly, forcing out the question that had been eating away at him for years now, “if it might not be my fault?”
Garin had sighed and laid a hand on Ever’s shoulder, forcing him to be still. “You know there is no one to blame here. The Fortress can change your situation at any time it chooses. Apparently, it thinks that now is not the right time.”
“But what happens if we never get an heir? Does the bloodline simply die?”
Garin had shrugged, and began to place Ever’s maps into a saddle bag for him. “I suppose, from a human standpoint, the Fortress’s holy man might try to find a distant descendant, someone from another country who had a grandparent or great-grandparent that was Fortress-born. But,” he arched one of his eyebrows knowingly at Ever, “I do not think you need to be worried about such things. The Fortress knows how to care for its own. Just live in the now, Ever. Do not borrow trouble.”
Now Ever walked through the cabin softly, examining all of its holes and crannies. With the number of disintegrating beams and missing stones from the walls, it was a miracle that the little house hadn’t collapsed yet. As he moved about the little rooms, he noticed that there was no furniture. No one had lived here for a very long time, judging by the dust that had gathered in deep layers upon the floor. There weren’t even footprints, aside from his own, Isa’s, and Acelet’s. And yet, the sensation of power was everywhere, filling the air and making it strange to breathe in and out. But where was it coming from?
Frustrated, Ever finally stomped back outside to the fire Acelet had built nearly thirty feet from the cottage’s broken front door. Aware that if he continued to stew on Isa’s disappearance, he would most certainly lose his composure, Ever ladled himself a bowl of meat and apple stew that someone had put on the fire.
“So how exactly did you bring that one in last night without my help?” Ever leaned forward over his cup. “I’m quite impressed, of course, but I would have thought that one with his abilities should have been rather dangerous.” It was nearly a rebuke, for Ever hated to have his men put themselves in danger unnecessarily, particularly when the problem dealt with the So
rthileige.
But Acelet only laughed and rubbed his chin as he also took a bit of the stew. “I know what you are not saying, and you need not fret. He was so drunk when we finally tracked him down that he was unconscious on the floor of the tavern he’d been visiting that day. It was less than a day’s ride back to the Fortress, so we borrowed a coffin from a nearby casket maker, nailed the top down to be safe, and carted him back.” He shrugged. “Garin took him off of our hands as soon as we got back to the Fortress.”
“A coffin?” Ever nearly spit out his food as he laughed. Acelet was creative if nothing else. “Still,” Ever tried to look stern, “what you did was dangerous. In the future I would still prefer to be called for such errands. But... thank you.”
“Pardon me, Your Highness,” one of the newer soldiers called out in a timid voice, “but I cannot quite understand just how this Sorthileige can do such damage, especially...” he paused, “... when it is done within the Fortress’s domain.”
Ever studied the young man for a moment before answering. He was one of their most recent additions, one Ever had only finished training a few weeks before. Barely old enough to have left his parents and home, Eloy had impressed Ever with his desire to serve as a soldier. Eloy still had improvements to make with his swordplay, but the young man’s skill with the bow was nearly unrivaled. And though he had handpicked Eloy for his particular venture, Ever couldn’t help but hate what he knew Eloy, as all of his soldiers, would eventually touch and see and experience. Such was the role of his men, but the innocence in Eloy’s face now, its openness, would not always be so. And it pained Ever to know that he would be the one to steal that innocence from him.
“The Fortress with all of its power was a gift from the Maker to the people of Destin,” Ever finally said. “Such power is mostly unheard of in the other kingdoms of the western realm. Of course, the Maker also gives individual gifts to people throughout the lands, common, noble, and royal alike, but only the Fortress and its monarchs have been blessed with such a concentration of enduring power throughout the generations.
Beauty Beheld: A Retelling of Hansel and Gretel (The Becoming Beauty Trilogy Book 3) Page 4
