Blood pounded in my ears. Blackness stained the perimeter of my vision. As I struggled to remain conscious, I heard a raucous screech.
Calia screamed.
The garrotte loosened. I slumped and gasped for air. I scrambled forward. A second agonized howl came from behind me. When I glanced back, I saw Circe, wings outspread, raking Calia’s head with her mighty talons.
In a maniacal frenzy, Calia retrieved my knife and slashed in Circe’s direction.
I called to Circe, but nothing came from my bruised throat. I raised my hand to signal her, but she’d already retreated to a safe distance, continuing to circle overhead.
Calia advanced toward me the knife swaying like a cobra. Her eyes were wild with determined fury. I spied Circe preparing to attack again. I had to protect my bird. If I could escape into the tall grasses, I could circle back and surprise Calia. I was certain I could overpower her.
As I crouched to run, she launched at me. I veered to one side. The blade caught my left temple. As I fell backward, I grabbed her knife arm with both hands. We struggled, but I was stronger. I lifted my foot and kicked out before a hard object slammed into the right side of my head.
Blood dripped into one eye. I wiped it away. Dazed and disoriented I attempted to focus my swirling vision. Calia struggled to her knees. The flashlight she’d hit me with was gone, but she still brandished the knife. Too weak and dizzy to stand, I watched her stumble toward me.
Circe squawked and dove. Sharp talons plunged toward Calia. I had only one chance to escape. As my bird aimed for Calia, I scrambled on hands and knees into the thick damp vegetation. I crawled for what seemed like hours, finally collapsing as blackness overcame me.
When I awoke, the sun was low on the horizon. I was alone.
My mouth was parched and my throat ached. How far had I crawled? Which way was the railway track? Other than the whistling wind, all was quiet. I cautiously rose to peer over the swaying grass. There was little to see but the canopies of a few trees. I risked standing.
Immediately, I heard Circe’s cry as she launched from a leafy bough and soared toward me.
I clutched my necklace and closed my eyes. The oracle stone had enhanced my vocal vibrations and healing abilities. Would it boost my mental vibrations as well?
I concentrated on a simple message for Circe. Show me the way.
I was disappointed when she cruised above me and then receded, but I continued to watch her. She returned and completed the same maneuver. This time I noted the direction. When she repeated her flight a third time, I realized she was trying to show me how to proceed. Setting out to follow her, I marveled at the power of the oracle stone.
The ground still radiated heat, despite the diminishing daylight. I removed the cape and dragged it behind me as I pushed my feet through the tall matted grasses. After what seemed like an interminable walk, I spotted a clearing. It was the track line.
I cautiously scanned both ways along the metal rails before emerging from my grassy cover. Calia was nowhere in sight. Our gear was gone as well. Circe glided above as I stepped over a rail. I forced one foot in front of the other. Without food and water, my future looked dim, but Circe’s presence gave me comfort.
As dusk dropped a haze over the land, I kept a vigilant watch for evidence of disturbed grasses where Calia might be hiding. Occasionally, discarded remnants of food littered the track. Perhaps I was closer to Calia than I’d imagined. I grabbed my oracle stone and felt a surge of energy. I quickened my pace, but there was no further sign of my adversary.
I donned my cloak as night fell. The rain returned. I cupped my hands to catch what I could. Sips of cold liquid were a welcome relief at first, but I was soon wishing for sunshine when I started to shiver.
Circe had flown ahead, probably taken cover. I had only my thoughts to keep me company as I trudged forward, sliding one foot along a rail to prevent straying from my goal. As the last thin haze of light disappeared behind the western escarpment, I spied the faint outline of a building. I quickened my pace. Cold, wet and tired, I couldn’t walk all night. I had to find a safe place to sleep.
I reached the structure and felt my way along one wall. Without warning, my next step found only air. I tumbled downward. As I landed, my ankle twisted. Clutching it, I cried out in agony and crumpled to the rough ground. Groping on hands and knees, I searched for cover. The muddy gravel was hard against my flesh, but I persisted. The area had high vertical walls on three sides. The fourth side was level and open. I crawled forward until I could no longer feel raindrops. A cave or a tunnel? I didn’t care. I was safe.
I prodded my swollen ankle. There was nothing I could do for it. My bruised throat ached. I couldn't speak or even hum. I tried to pull energy from the oracle stone and direct it down my leg, but it had little effect. My only choice was to rest and wait until morning.
All I had for company was the sound of the rain. I shivered in the cool air and pulled the cape around me. In the darkness, it was a challenge to remain optimistic.
My only hope was to find Haven. Perhaps I could get help there. One of the villagers might know the way to Prima Feminary. I forced away any negative thoughts that would pull me into blackness. Instead, I thought of my island home. Fatigue and sweet memories lulled me to sleep.
I awakened to a low rumbling. I rubbed a hand over my eyes and felt the lump on my temple, then remembered my ankle. Still swollen. The grumbling sound continued. I was in a tunnel that emptied into the gravelly pit. All around, the land rose. The shed sat at the top of one wall. My spirits lifted when I saw shovels and pickaxes stacked neatly alongside.
The noise swelled. Male voices echoed. I tried to stand when I saw figures approaching, but it was impossible.
A large man started to jog and point in my direction. “There she is. Come on. We’ve got her this time.”
The mob raced toward me. Fists pounded the air.
Unable to speak, I rose to my knees and raised my arms to show I wasn’t a threat. They slowed and encircled me. There was no escape, even if my ankle hadn’t been injured. I smiled and tried to indicate my injuries with hand gestures.
“She can’t speak. Look at her throat,” a hesitant voice offered.
“Doesn’t matter. She’s the thief.”
Attempting to deny the charge, I vehemently shook my head and waved my arms.
A voice of reason hailed from the back of the pack. “It might not be her. How do we know she’s the one?”
“She's wearing the cape with Tarvek's logo on it. We'll show her she can't come into our village and steal from us.”
There were grunts of support and demands for justice.
“Tie her up. We’ll take her to Haven. Make her pay for her crimes.”
I winced in pain as two miners yanked me upright and bound my arms. Tossed over a hefty shoulder, I felt sick as the man strode over rocky ground. At one point, my head grazed a wooden pole, part of the support structure inside the tunnel. It must be one of Haven’s mines.
We descended for several minutes until the land rose and we emerged on the side of a hill. The warmth of the sunshine was a balm to my aching body. I glimpsed tall trees and thick shrubs, and the smell of damp earth and fragrant pine was rejuvenating. I took a deep, steadying breath. As my porter changed direction, the elevated vantage point revealed a settlement in a hollow below.
Perhaps I’d find support among the villagers. I had to make someone believe I was innocent.
“Maybe we should just deal with her here,” someone growled.
Another man disagreed. “No. After all that's happened, the people need to see justice served. We may not be able to defeat Tarvek, but we can deal with one of his minions.”
The men continued downhill toward the village. Several minutes later, we reached the narrow valley and a cluster of wooden huts. It was quiet, but villagers started to emerge as we passed.
“We found her,” one of my captors explained to those who watched. “We’re taking h
er to the square. Tell the others to meet us there.”
I looked at the faces of the people I passed, but there was no compassion, only anger.
A ragged crowd grew as we entered a cleared area. Some of the spectators held stones, others clubs. Many appeared hollow-eyed and needed assistance to walk. There were few elderly. Children screamed and chanted ‘stone her.’
I was dropped to the dirt, hauled up, and bound to a vertical post. The big man from the mine shushed the restless crowd and faced me, but quickly stepped back.
“Look at her eyes,” he ranted. “She’s cursed.” His hand shook lightly when he pointed at me. “You are accused of trespassing and stealing from the people of Haven. Have you anything to say about your crime?”
I wanted to yell that it wasn't me. Calia had been wearing one of Tarvek’s capes. I was certain she had perpetrated the crimes, but without my voice, there was no way to protest my innocence. I motioned to my throat in an attempt to convey my predicament, but the worn faces around me exhibited only rage and fear. There was no hint of mercy.
At Circe's screech, I looked up. She swooped down and landed on top of the pole.
“It's a devil bird,” screamed one of the village women. “That confirms her guilt. She must die.”
I jerked in surprise when a stone glanced off my shoulder. Other arms rose around me, ready to unleash a barrage of death. I closed my eyes and thought of my loved ones as the crowd prepared to assuage its wrath.
Voices erupted on my right as a man pushed through the crowd. “Do not hurt her,” he yelled. “She is not the one.”
Astonished, I opened my eyes and twisted my head toward the voice, barely avoiding a second stone that brushed my cheek. Who had saved me?
A figure rushed into the square. He stood with his back to me and waved his arms. “I know this woman. She is a citizen of Hypor City. She is not the thief.”
His words brought tears to my eyes. I had a champion.
One of the men challenged him. “She has the same cape that old Mary described.”
“I promise you, she’s not the one. She’s a friend. Put down your stones and go home.”
Surprisingly, the villagers grunted, but obeyed and slowly dispersed. I wondered who had saved me. I sagged with relief when I recognized my colleague from Hypor City.
I mouthed his name. Stick.
He grinned as he removed my bonds. “Brynna. I can't believe you’re here. What are you doing in Haven? How did you get here? And what’s going on with your eyes?”
I pointed to my throat and mouth. He linked his arm beneath mine to keep me from falling as he helped me into one of the huts.
He nodded. “I understand. I can see the bruises on your neck. Who did this to you? Not the villagers I hope.”
I mouthed her name. Seeing his confusion, I pulled a charred stick from the dead fireplace and scratched her name into the dirt floor.
“Calia?” His eyes widened. “How did she get here?” He paused when I shrugged. “You must have quite a story to tell. I’ll have to wait until you get your voice back. I assume that it was Calia who stole from our village. Was she wearing one of Tarvek’s capes?”
I nodded. Stick helped me to a chair, then brought water and coarse bread. I winced as I sipped the cold liquid.
“There’s an old woman in the village who is good with potions. She can make up a remedy for your throat. Stay inside until I get back.”
I managed to down several pieces of moistened bread before searching the hut for anything I could use as a weapon. With Stick gone, I had no defence against any villager who didn’t believe my innocence. Holding the charred stick I’d used earlier, I sat nervously watching the door.
24
An Old Friend
When Stick returned, I dropped my makeshift weapon to the ground.
“Try this.” He handed me a clay flask filled with liquid. “The woman's not a doctor, but she seems to have success with herbs. She says it will make you sleepy for a couple of hours. You can use the bed. I’ve asked a friend of mine to stay outside the door while I’m gone. I have to go to the mine, but I’ll be back soon.”
As Stick turned to leave the hut, I grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug.
His cheeks were pink when we parted. “You're welcome. Better get some rest. We have a lot to talk about later.”
Once he’d gone, I sniffed at the concoction. I recognized licorice root and a few other herbs. I took a cautious sip, then another. The relief in my throat was immediate. The woman was obviously a competent healer. After I rested, I’d write a note asking for some herbs for my ankle.
Sometime later, half-awake and groggy from the potion, I heard Stick conversing with a man near the entrance to the hut.
“She might know where the thief is.” I recognized the voice of the villager who had tied me to the post. “How do you know they weren’t working together?”
“The other woman tried to strangle Brynna,” said Stick. “Her name is Calia. I remember her from Hypor City. She was a despicable liar, only out for herself. She’s the reason I was exiled to Haven. Brynna was imprisoned in Hypor City because of Calia’s lies. If Brynna knew her whereabouts, she would tell us.”
“Where would the thief have gone?” asked the other man. “Except for Prima Feminary, there is no other settlement No sane person would go to that place voluntarily. Besides it’s across the water.”
“She might try to hide in the mountains,” responded Stick, “or make her way back to Tarvek’s compound. She’s crazy enough to try.”
“Eventually, she will need food and water,” said the villager. “I'm going to set up patrols in case she returns.”
“Patrols are a good idea, but the gas sickness has stretched our resources. We also need guards at the mine entrances. The adults will stay away, but the children need to be watched.”
“We’ll barricade the openings and have the women monitor the mine. The men will patrol the village. If the thief returns, we’ll catch her.”
I heard heavy footsteps move away then Stick appeared at the door. His worried expression eased when he saw me sitting on the side of the bed, drinking from the flask. “Is it helping?”
I nodded and managed a scratchy reply. “The perfect remedy. My voice strengthening. Can I meet the healer? Need herbs for my ankle.” I started to cough and quickly took another mouthful.
“No more talking. If you want to come with me now, I'll introduce you to her. Maybe later, when your throat has healed, you can answer a few questions.”
With Stick’s help, I hobbled to the healer's hut. I saw only a dozen people on the way. As I passed, some looked fearful, a few appeared hostile, but most turned away. Stick glanced at me when I inched closer. We finally stopped outside a moss-covered dwelling.
He rapped on the door, then whispered. “She’s a gifted herbalist, but I’ve also heard the villagers say she has visions.”
I wanted to question him, but stopped when the door opened.
“Brynna, this is Valma, our healer. Valma, Brynna says your potion for her throat is working, but she needs your help with her twisted ankle.”
I took her hand and mouthed thank you. She nodded and led me inside.
Stick spoke from the doorway. “I have to go back to the mine. You’ll be safe here. I’ll come for you later.”
Valma was the oldest person I had seen in the village so far. Her face was wrinkled and sallow, but her eyes were full of kindness. She laid a poultice over my ankle.
Within a few minutes, the swelling had subsided. She gave me a cup of a licorice-flavored liquid that I downed slowly. Several people came to her door to collect remedies. They were the same hollow-eyed, sickly villagers I'd noticed earlier. I waited until we were alone again and croaked out a question. “Why are those people sick?”
“It’s the mine gases that seep from the tunnels,” she told me. “They collect in the hollow and make the people ill. Some of the older ones have died. The herbs help. It
would be better to move the village. But Tarvek will not allow it.”
“Tarvek is dead.” My scratchy words sent the woman hurrying from the hut.
I gasped in alarm when half a dozen men pushed into the tiny shelter. I tried to stand, ready to defend myself until I saw Stick enter with Valma holding his arm.
His eyes were bright and hopeful when he grabbed my hand. “Is it true, Brynna? Is Tarvek dead?”
I nodded and took a quick mouthful of liquid. “Killed by Prince Delio.” My coughing started again. I took a drink and tried to speak, but this time my vocal cords were uncooperative.
“She needs more time for her voice to mend.” The old healer inserted herself between the men and me.
Stick turned to the men. “With Tarvek dead, we can search for a new location for the village away from the mine gas.”
I had an idea and quickly signaled to Stick. I grabbed a sturdy stem of rosemary and drew a message into the dusty floor until the healer offered a wrinkled paper and a stick of charcoal. They could leave the mine, and Haven, and be free in Nuvega. Or return to Hypor City now that the Delios were dead. I stopped writing when I remembered the solar threat.
“What’s wrong? You’ve gone pale.” He pointed to the paper, encouraging me to continue.
When I wrote the single word sun, his puzzlement gave way to understanding. He shook his head slightly and turned towards the men. “Tarvek’s death is good news. We will find a better place to live. Once everyone is back to health, we can make plans for the future. Spread the word to the villagers.”
When the others departed, Valma went into her kitchen. Once Stick and I were alone, I wrote Why? on the paper and handed it to him. I was curious that Stick hadn’t warned the others about the CME threat.
He shook his head and spoke quietly. “With the gas sickness and the thefts, they don’t need more bad news. I’d rather they focus on the future.”
The Lost Prophecy Page 19
