Conrad shoots Luke a sideways glance, his tail sticking up in annoyance. “You took point on your first three hunts. If we’re stating facts then remember that I’m your superior officer and you have to obey my orders. Questioning my authority in front of the men isn’t a way to endear yourself to me.”
“I’m not trying to cause any trouble, Conrad, but I’m useless here,” Luke argues, ignoring the chuckles from the soldiers. “These guys were sent to destroy whatever krypters we find. My job is to find and report danger without being noticed. I can’t do my job if I’m at the head of a clanging, banging pack of warriors that couldn’t sneak up on a corpse.”
“Do you mean a real corpse or a walking corpse?” asks a mercenary from the middle of the squad. The other mercenaries laugh until a rock and a pinecone strike the joking warrior in the helmet. Everyone looks at Conrad and Luke, their throwing arms still stretched out in front of them.
“I can see further and smell what’s ahead,” Conrad says, fighting to control his growing anger. He hisses for a few seconds and cracks his knuckles. “I apologize if this situation makes you feel useless, but this is how it’s going to be. We’ve been seeing a steady increase in krypter activity, so we must lead with our strongest scouts. I’m sure you will prove your worth when a battle occurs. It’s not like any of these monsters have ever caught you by surprise. They caught you with your pants down once, but never by surprise.”
Luke blushes and hears a few of the mercenaries stifle their laughter. “I learned my lesson and it wasn’t like you had to save me.”
“You were attacked by four krypters while you were peeing!” Conrad loudly announces to further embarrass Luke. “You earned a lot of respect for destroying three of them before we arrived to help, but it showed you lack of foresight and bladder control.”
“You guys didn’t help me!” Luke shouts, jabbing Conrad in the chest with his finger. “I remember you and your men watching as I finished off the last krypter. The least you could have done was hand me dry boots when I was done.”
“Noted for next time,” the calico whispers with a wide grin. “For now, you will remain in your position and act as the secondary scout. When you hear my owl call, you will signal the men and prepare for the krypters. Let’s move out!”
“Can I talk to you in private?” Luke asks, nodding his head to a thick oak off the path.
“No.”
“Now you’re just being stubborn.”
“I’m being bored and cautious.”
“The only things in the area are fifty birds, three squirrels, two rabbits, five snakes, and a sleeping badger,” Luke claims, enjoying the confused look on the mercenary’s face. “I have a very good sense of my surroundings, Conrad. One could say I have a special sight for sensing things in my environment.”
Conrad’s tail swishes rapidly before he playfully smacks Luke upside the head. “You should have told me this earlier, you cocky bastard. It would save all of us some headaches and fights. Take a hundred-yard lead and use a wolf call if you find trouble. Don’t fight the enemy unless they come at you first.”
“Yes, sir!” Luke announces with a salute.
Conrad returns to the trees while Luke prowls ahead of the soldiers, slipping in and out of any available shadows. Luke slows his pace when a sour wind weaves through the trees, drawing his attention to the south. He is tempted to call back to the mercenaries, but he is unsure if it is a problem that should concern them. Scanning the area, he sees Conrad eagerly watching him from the trees and gesturing for the mercenaries to halt. The calico points at his nose and Luke nods in agreement, pointing in the direction of the foul wind. Conrad leaps to another tree and climbs higher to get a better view of the area. After several minutes, he whistles at Luke and shakes his head to signal that he sees nothing in that direction. Out of fear and caution, Luke draws his sabers and prepares to take another step to the south.
A paralyzing shiver runs through the forest tracker’s body as if the temperature has fallen to arctic levels. He sees his breath hang in the air and frost appears along the pristine blades of his sabers. Luke takes a quick step back, feeling a pulse of warmth run up his left arm and course throughout his entire body. The frost evaporates as he examines his ring of glossy petrified wood. He rubs the leaves at the top of the family heirloom, marveling at how they have changed to yellow with the coming season. He remembers his grandfather telling him that there is a mysterious power locked within the Ring of Uli, but he is unable to figure out what just happened.
“What is it?” Conrad asks as he lands next to the half-elf.
“I have no idea,” Luke admits, his attention back on the trees around them. “Something evil is in the forest, but it isn’t the krypters. I felt something like this before when I was in Visindor Forest and had to tangle with a Hellfire Elf.”
Conrad gulps down a ball of fear growing in his throat. “You think a demon is in the woods?”
“I don’t know,” Luke says with a look of frustration on his face. A thought is creeping into his mind, but he finds himself having trouble holding onto it. “I only got this feeling once before, but it was at a time when I didn’t run into the demon. I never felt it again even though I encountered the Hellfire Elf four times after that. It could be from the Lich that summoned the demon, but he is another creature I’ve had several encounters with and never got this feeling.”
“That means there is something else you have come close to encountering,” Conrad whispers, placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “This is either a coincidence or this presence is hunting you, waiting for the perfect time to strike. It’s something strong and dangerous, so I suggest you keep your distance from it. I will watch your back until we return to camp, but I fear that won’t be much help against whatever there is.”
“I have no intention of facing this thing without Nyx,” Luke admits, turning back to the mercenaries. “I’m sure she could hold her own against this thing. At the very least, she might be able to scare it off with a show of power.”
“As long as it doesn’t eat her magic.”
“I’d prefer not to think about that possibility.”
Conrad is about to return to the trees when he catches a familiar scent on the wind. He turns to Luke to mention the approaching enemy, but sees that the half-elf is already tense and prepared to fight. With his tail curled around his waist, Conrad climbs to a high branch for a better view. His brown eyes narrow into slits, focusing on a distant movement that is nearing the mercenaries. Grabbing an acorn from a nearby branch, he throws the nut at Luke to get his attention. The half-elf deftly blocks the acorn while looking up to see Conrad urgently pointing to the northwest.
Luke sprints toward the incoming enemy, holding a sword up for silence as he passes the mercenaries. He cringes when he hears the warriors draw their weapons in a symphony of scraping metal. Running low to the ground with his sabers sticking out behind him, Luke swiftly closes the distance between himself and the enemy. He stops when he finds a solitary krypter, sniffing at the air and chewing at the remains of a fox. The fox’s tail is sticking out of the monster’s mouth when its eyeless head turns toward the half-elf. The creature angrily hisses until a pair of arrows impales its chest and its lifeless body drops to the ground with a dull thud.
“Have you ever seen a krypter by itself?” Luke asks as Conrad joins him on the ground.
“This would be the first time,” Conrad replies, nocking an arrow and preparing to shoot again. “They’ve proven to be pack hunters, but I assume a krypter could be kicked out of the pack like with natural animals.”
“Call the men over,” Luke whispers, checking the area with his hearing sight. “We’re in a lot of trouble.”
Conrad makes a cat-like yowl as the thick canopy shakes and splinters. Luke and Conrad dive in opposite directions, avoiding a large pack of krypters that drop to the forest floor. Many of them are still shifting from the colors of the forest to their natural black and red. Luke breathes a
sigh of relief when he hears the mercenaries charge forward and clash with the krypters. He spins and leaps through the monsters, slashing at whatever he can reach until he fights his way out of the mob of fangs and claws. He can see Conrad on the other side of the krypters, gracefully dodging their attacks and firing into the pack.
“Over here!” Luke screams to get the attention of the nearest krypters. All of the krypters turn toward him and rush forward, ignoring the other warriors. “Not what I expected.”
“That plan didn’t work out for you!” Conrad yells, dropping three krypters with arrows to the backs of their heads.
“I didn’t really have a plan!” Luke admits, spinning his sabers and charging into the approaching pack.
Luke kills four krypters with his initial rush, but the others surge forward and force him to dance out of reach. He attempts to charge again, only for the pack to part and let him into the middle where they surround him. Realizing he has been isolated, Luke desperately spins and whirls around, so that any krypter that comes too close is slashed. He feels a dull throbbing in his arms as he continues fighting, at first thinking it is nothing more than his muscles straining. The sensation turns into a gentle quiver along his arms an instant before his sabers strike a krypter and the monster explodes in a cloud of red dust. For a brief moment, Luke sees pink energy coiling from his wrists to the points of his sabers.
“That was surprising,” Conrad mentions, joining Luke and watching the krypters back away. “By the stunned expression on your face, I assume you have no idea how you did that.”
“Not a clue,” Luke whispers.
The two warriors are about to attack the krypters when they hear a loud, teeth-gritting crack behind them. They spin around to see a cloaked figure step out of a black fissure in an ancient oak tree. Luke smirks at the red eyes staring at him from under the moldy cowl, the warrior refusing to move until the creature puts away a pale green wand. Conrad fires three arrows at the Lich, but his shots are frozen in the air as soon as the necrocaster waves his fleshless hand.
“This is not a dance for outsiders,” the Lich hisses. He flicks his hand and the arrows flip in mid-air, launching back at the calico. Conrad is unable to react in time and is struck in both shoulders and his stomach. Luke is already angrily slashing at the Lich as the calico falls to the ground.
“Damn your weapons!” the Lich screeches when he feels Luke’s sabers magically pull at his body. Luke notices a brief shimmering underneath the Lich’s cloak and rags, the brief light revealing a rainbow-colored shawl that is out of place on the rotting necrocaster.
Hearing the krypters approaching, Luke spits at the Lich before rushing to defend Conrad. He can hear a sucking sound behind him as the Lich leaves the area through a new fissure. Cursing the retreating necrocaster under his breath, Luke dives into the mass of krypters and decapitates two of them. The mercenaries attack from the rear, but the creatures continue to fight back with a primal fury that wears the warriors down. Luke struggles to figure out how to reactivate whatever power awoke in his sabers, but the only sensation he feels in his arms is the growing numbness of fatigue.
A mighty yell erupts from the surrounding forest and every living and undead creature freezes in its tracks. The remaining krypters nervously sniff the air as a large form leaps over Luke and Conrad. Four krypters fall to the ground, their lower halves cleanly separated from their top halves. The mercenaries cheer and back away when they recognize Timoran, his red hair practically bristling as he butchers the yelping monsters. Within seconds, the krypters have been reduced to twitching body parts scattered around the area. The barbarian raises his face to the sky and roars loud enough to be heard for miles.
“Conrad’s been hurt!” Luke shouts at the mercenaries as he pulls out some patches of cloth from his pocket. He snaps each of the arrows off as close to the wound as he can and presses a cloth patch to each wound until the fabric sticks. A faint hissing can be heard and Conrad cringes from the sudden pain.
“I always hated healing patches,” Conrad whispers with a laugh. “They really hurt when they’re eating arrowheads away. It’s terrible that I’m so familiar with that.”
“Save your strength,” Luke tells him before an orcish mercenary arrives to carry the slender calico. “Take him back to the camp and tell Tzefira what’s happened. I have a feeling Timoran and I still have work to do. If she wants to help us then I’m more than willing to accept. I’ll leave a trail of ground slashes starting here.”
“Yes, sir!” the mercenaries shout.
Timoran has stopped bellowing and is cleaning his great axe when Luke gingerly approaches him. He reaches out to touch the barbarian’s shoulder, but the large man swiftly catches his hand. Luke slips out of his grip and backs away from the blue eyes filled with a savage fury.
“Anything I can do to help you calm down?” Luke calmly asks. He waves at a few mercenaries who drew their weapons in response to Timoran’s sudden movement.
“Give me space while I talk,” the barbarian requests with a deep, gravelly voice. “I was sent to bring you to Nyx. It is a long story that she can explain the details of, but she is being held by the goblins. They ambushed us and she refused to let me defend her. She invoked the name of their god and willingly went with them. I do not know if that is a smart decision or not, but she told me to find you and bring you to her. She has insisted that no violence is to befall the goblins.”
“Do you want some of us to go with you?” a nearby mercenary asks Luke.
“I see you are now in charge, my young friend,” Timoran states with a smile.
“It’s only because Conrad has some extra holes in him and this has to do with Nyx,” Luke says, anxiously licking his lips and turning to the mercenary. “All of you are to return with Conrad. I want as many people guarding him as possible in case the krypters attack on your way back. Besides, it sounds like Nyx is trying to peacefully work things out with the goblins. We could put her in danger if we arrive with a party of fully armored warriors. We’re leaving as soon as you pass the far trees, so move out.”
The mercenary nods in agreement and turns to order everyone into a protective marching formation around Conrad and the orc carrying him. Timoran and Luke wait for them to march out of sight before sprinting in the opposite direction. After several minutes of jockeying for the lead, they silently agree that Timoran take point. Making very little noise, they race deeper into the forest and pray they make it to Nyx before dark.
8
Kayn groans as his eyes slowly open to the sight of his bedroom, which is beneath the streets of Hero’s Gate. Over the last four weeks, he has decorated the small cavern with stolen paintings, flanked by curtains taken from the finest houses in the city. The most difficult item he managed to steal is a large four post bed with a white satin canopy and an amazingly soft mattress. An amused smile crosses his face as he imagines Lord Highrider sleeping on the cheap replacement bed, the entire thing collapsing under his weight. Several pieces of oak furniture are scattered around the cavern, but very few of them hold anything. Most of his belongings are still in the satchel he has been carrying with him since he appeared outside of Haven.
“Eat this,” says a stern female voice from the side of the bed.
Kayn turns in time to feel a chicken leg hit him in the mouth and fall onto his expensive blanket. He stares at Sari in stunned silence as she cautiously glares at him. She is still wearing her leather bodysuit and her blue hair tumbling down to her thighs. There is a suspicious coldness to her emerald eyes that Kayn never dreamed he would see on his beloved partner’s face.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispers, reaching out to touch Sari’s leg. He jerks his hand back when she draws a dagger from her belt.
“I thought you were dead,” Sari states in a low, quivering voice. “The gods told me you were probably dead.”
“A man kidnapped me and I managed to escape,” Kayn explains. He sits up and grabs the chicken leg to slo
wly nibble at the cold meat. “One of his servants had a magical weapon cache that I broke into. I was fortunate that two more of his servants were returning during my escape and they left their portal open, which I used to return to Ralian.”
Sari leans forward, placing her elbows on the bed, but she keeps the dagger pointed at Kayn. “That’s a fascinating story, but I need proof that you’re the real Kayn. You could be a doppelganger or one of my enemies under a transformation spell. After all, I’ve been hunted ever since my clan was murdered. It would be rather foolish of me to drop my guard because of such an amateur trick.”
“I assure you I’m the real Kayn,” he adamantly swears. “If I was an illusion, you would have seen through my disguise by now. A transformation spell wouldn’t capture my habits and skills.”
“That’s why I’m leaning toward a well-rehearsed doppelganger,” Sari admits, getting to her feet and walking over to a blazing torch on the rough wall. She holds the blade of her dagger in the flame, watching the metal slowly turn red. “There was a trick that Kayn could do and I was the only one he showed it to. He said it was a special trick that he reserved for his true partner. Kayn would heat a dagger with a torch or within our tent’s fireplace. Once the dagger was glowing red with heat, he would swallow the blade and only remove it when the blade had cooled. A doppelganger might know of the trick, but it wouldn’t be good enough to pull it off without injury.”
“I remember that trick,” Kayn nervously says, sweat trickling down the side of his head.
“Then do it for me,” Sari calmly demands. She runs her hand through the torch before throwing the hot dagger to Kayn, who catches the warm hilt. “Prove you’re Kayn.”
“I can’t do this, Sari,” he whispers, staring at the blade and turning it in his hand. “There was a secret behind the trick that prevents me from doing it now. Can’t you simply trust that I am who I say I am?”
Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune Page 20
