by Claire Frank
“Griff,” he called as he jogged toward his friend. “Have you seen Shale?”
Griff pursed his lips and looked around. “I can’t say that I have, come to think of it.”
Serv trotted up behind Griff, a worried expression on his face. “You need to see this.”
Daro followed Serv across the camp, to a thicket of underbrush. Two bodies lay in the tangle of bushes, largely hidden by the foliage.
“The two on guard duty when the fires started,” Serv said.
“Who would kill the guards, start a fire, and then leave?” Griff asked.
“The question isn’t who, but why,” Daro said. He looked out over the landscape with different eyes. This had been a deliberate, targeted attack, but if it wasn’t a robbery, what had they been after?
As he walked around the bodies and back toward the burned wagons, Daro looked at the ground for tracks or other signs of their attackers. He realized the churned-up ground was not just the result of the caravan’s attempt the douse the flames. There were signs of a struggle, and a faint trail led away from the camp.
Daro’s chest clenched with worry. “I think someone took Shale.”
13. SHALE
Daro hoisted himself into his saddle and took the lead of Shale’s horse from Griff. He wanted to be able to move fast, but he also knew they might need a quick means of escape, not just for themselves but for Shale as well.
“I’ll organize a search closer in,” Griff said. “If we’re lucky, we’ll find him nearby.”
“I don’t think we’ll be lucky,” Daro said. The very thought of an abduction made his stomach churn.
“Shale weighs a ton,” Stoker said. He sat atop his own horse, ready to ride out with Daro. Serv was next to him, similarly mounted. “I don’t see how anyone could have dragged him away.”
Daro shook his head. “I don’t know either, but he isn’t here. Someone hit us in the night, killed the two guards, and started a fire. Nothing else is missing. Only Shale. And they have at least half a day on us.” He cursed himself for not realizing sooner that Shale was gone.
The three men set out, following the faint trail the attackers had left in the night. It cut east, away from the road, and someone had clearly made an attempt to conceal their passage. The signs were hard to follow, and they weren’t able to pick up much speed for fear they would veer in the wrong direction. The landscape was fairly open, with mostly low vegetation, and the path they followed competed with the hoof prints of hundreds of horses. They were in the grazing territory of wild horses, and a herd had been through the area recently, churning up the ground and making it all too easy to lose the trail.
“Look there,” Serv said, and Daro and Stoker both pulled up next to him. He pointed to the ground and they noticed a strange track of flattened grass. It was wide, as if something large and heavy had been pulled across, crushing the vegetation as it went.
“Do you think we should follow?” Stoker asked.
Daro looked up the trail, enhancing his vision so he could see farther into the distance. It kept going as far as he could see. “Yes. Let’s go.”
They rode for several hours, picking up the pace when the trail was clear and slowing when the vegetation grew sparse and the wide swath of smashed grass faded. More than once they had to circle back to pick up the trail again when they lost sight of any sign of the attackers. Daro’s worry grew as the day wore on. Stoker was right; Shale was heavy and strong. Daro had seen him bash through enemies three at a time with nothing but huge swipes of his arms. Who could possibly have taken him so suddenly and silently that no one even noticed he was gone?
As the sun began to sink lower, they came to a little-used road, with grass and low brush growing across. The trail ended and a set of wagon ruts began, heading south.
“Let’s follow the road,” Daro said.
The signs of the wagon’s passage were easy to miss, as the ground was packed hard. More than once there were signs of animal passage, with hoof prints dug into the dirt and a path of trampled and grazed vegetation.
“Do you know where this leads?” Daro asked Serv as they trotted.
“I didn’t know this road existed,” Serv said. “I don’t think many people live out this far.”
They followed the road, watching for signs that the wagon or cart had turned off to the grasslands beyond, but the groove of wagon ruts followed the track. As the sun went down and dusk crept over the landscape, they decided to camp for the night. Daro hated to stop moving, but even his eyes could miss the trail in the dark.
Daro scarcely slept and they were up and moving while the light was still dim, the world faded and gray. Pushing the pace, Daro scouted ahead, leaving Stoker and Serv behind to watch carefully for indications that the trail led off the road. He would circle back around and check with them after he’d gone ahead a few miles.
The road kept on and, looking at the sky, Daro was grateful it was clear. Rain would have hampered their search even further, and the spring rains were due to begin any day. Daro alternated walking and trotting his horse, keeping a steady pace so his mount could cover more ground without too much fatigue.
After turning back and reconnecting with Serv and Stoker twice, Daro was frustrated that none of them had found any further signs of Shale. The wagon ruts continued down the road, but Daro had a sinking feeling that they’d followed a false trail. Any rural farmer could have left the ruts, traveling north to one of the small towns or toward the Bresne River. Daro’s Imaran Sight seemed to be giving him the impression that something large had passed through, but he couldn’t see the energy signatures of something that had already passed, the way his tracker friend Merrick could.
The road curved sharply east and the landscape changed, dotted with narrow pine trees that began to thicken as he went. He guessed he was a couple of miles ahead of Stoker and Serv and decided to turn back and rejoin them before nightfall. The trail was going nowhere, and he was forced to admit they had likely failed.
A noise in the distance caught his attention, and he drew in energy to enhance his hearing. The hum of voices grew, as did the clank of metal and the crackling of a fire. Channeling power into his eyes, he sharpened his vision, and could see through the thickening trees to the edges of a camp. It easily held a hundred men, and several large wagons were situated on one side. He couldn’t tell what was in them, but one shone with familiar energy. It was Shale.
One hundred men were too many for any one man to face alone, so Daro turned back and put his heels to his horse, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. It was unlikely; he didn’t know anyone, save other Imarans, who would see as far as he could, and the men in that camp were certainly not Imaran. Daro didn’t know who they were, but he knew he had to find a way to free his friend.
***
The three men spent the night close enough that Daro would be able to hear if the large camp moved, but far enough away that they were unlikely to be spotted. A copse of trees provided some cover and they did without a fire, eating the bit of dried meat they had brought with them from the caravan.
Daro slept a few hours in the early part of the night but found it impossible to stay asleep with his hearing augmented. The camp was quiet but the sounds of the surrounding countryside echoed in his ears. The blows and whinnies of horses weren’t far off, and he could hear the sounds of a herd rousing as dawn broke.
Serv and Stoker woke with the first glimmers of light. “We can follow if they move, but we need a way to get to Shale,” Stoker said as he saddled his horse.
“I’m certain he was in one of their wagons,” Daro said, “although something was odd. I could see his energy, but I couldn’t see him. There wasn’t the form of a man, but I’m sure it was Shale.”
“What we need is a distraction,” Serv said. “We can’t face that many men head on, but if we can divert enough of them, we might be able to get in and rescue him.”
“I could start a fire,” Stoker said, flipping a pebble into the air a
nd catching it with a quick swipe.
“A fire could rage out of control out here,” Daro said, looking out over the grasslands. The landscape was drying the farther south they traveled. “It would be hard to control and if the wind kicked up, that could go badly for all of us.”
They fell silent, contemplating their options as they finished saddling their horses. Daro opened his hearing again, listening to the murmur from the camp. They seemed to be packing up and making ready to move out. Daro and his friends needed to do something quickly. Daro didn’t know where the group of men were taking Shale, and he didn’t want to risk them meeting up with a larger force, reducing their chances of success even further.
As he listened, the rumble of hoof beats caught his attention. “I have an idea. I can hear horses, off that way,” he said as he pointed. “What if we push the herd through their camp? A hundred stampeding horses would be quite a diversion. It would cause enough chaos that we could ride in behind them and get Shale.”
Serv and Stoker glanced at each other. “It might be difficult to keep them from veering in the wrong direction,” Serv said.
“I think we can manage it,” Stoker said, his voice sounding hopeful. “If the two of you can ride alongside, I can take up the rear and keep them going. We’ll have to risk fire in the dry grass, but I can do my best to keep it loud rather than hot.”
Daro nodded and mounted his horse, focusing his hearing on the sound of the herd. He pointed in the direction of the noise; they trotted quickly across the plains, weaving their way through the scrubby pines, until the horses came into view.
“We need to force them that way,” Daro said, pointing in the direction of the camp. “Serv, if you take Shale’s horse, you can follow us in. I’ll circle around to the other side, Stoker, if you want to take this side. We don’t have too far to go; we should be able to keep them going in the right direction.”
The other men nodded and Daro rode around the back side of the herd. The horses watched him with interest but, as he didn’t approach, they appeared attentive, but not frightened.
Daro gave Stoker the signal, and he threw heated rocks in quick succession, startling the horses closest to him. The horses sprang to action, bolting across the ground, spurring the others in the herd to follow. Daro kicked his horse and surged forward, riding up alongside the growing stampede, hoping he and his friends could force them in the right direction.
Stoker hurled a rock toward Daro. He reached out to catch it, then threw it before it could burn his hand. The herd turned away from the explosion, their hooves thundering across the plain. The sound of more bursts popping hit Daro’s ears as Stoker tossed more stones, driving the horses onward in a frenzy.
Keeping his grip on the reins tight, Daro urged his horse to go faster; they galloped through the grass and pines. To Daro’s Sight, the way the energy flowed through the herd made the horses almost look like a single creature. He found he could See which way the Stallions would lead, allowing him to adjust his own path and push them in the right direction.
Dust kicked up in the wake of the herd, sending up a cloud of debris. There was no way the encampment wouldn’t hear them coming, but Daro hoped they wouldn’t realize the horses were heading straight into their midst until it was too late.
As Daro spotted the group in the distance, he called out to Stoker and waved. They needed to drive the horses to the right so they’d charge through the middle of the camp. Stoker spurred his horse faster, getting up alongside the herd, and exploded a few more rocks to spook them into turning. The horses moved as one, their energy flowing in a chaotic mass of fear as they angled toward the camp.
As they got closer, Daro could see men scrambling to get weapons, but they scattered as the horses broke through the encampment. The sound of hoof beats was deafening as Daro rode in among the stampeding horses, fighting to keep his own mount under control. Serv circled wide, keeping Shale’s horse from trying to follow the larger herd while Daro veered for the wagon where he’d seen signs of Shale.
The men in the encampment dispersed as the horses crashed through, and a number of them were trampled in the chaos. Daro made for the wagon and found nothing but a massive boulder, covered in snaking cracks, as if it were a pile of rocks that had been melded together. Pulling up on the reins, Daro stopped and took a closer look. The stone was filled with energy, as if it were alive, and Daro realized Shale was inside.
“Shale,” he called out, as he motioned to Serv to bring the horse. “Shale, it’s Daro!”
Daro dismounted and climbed into the wagon. Putting his hands on the stone, he felt the pulse of Shale’s energy. “Shale, come out of there.”
The stones shivered and one by one, they fell away, like a broken statue crumbling to the ground. Shale sat huddled within, crouched low with his hands protecting his face.
Daro brushed the dust from his back and helped him straighten. Shale blinked at the sunlight, rubbing his eyes, and spit to the side.
“Bloody hell, Daro, I did not expect to see you again,” he said as he stood.
“Let’s go, we don’t have much time,” Daro said and helped him down from the wagon. Shale blinked again, looking bewildered, but he pulled himself up on his horse and turned to follow Serv away from the camp. Daro glanced around to find men running back toward them, many with weapons drawn. He threw himself back into his saddle and kicked his horse to flee.
His mount had taken two strides when something clamped around Daro’s neck, pulling him backward; he flew from his saddle, crashing to the ground. The cord around his throat tightened and he wedged a thumb underneath to keep from choking as he tried to scramble to his feet.
Footsteps raced toward him and he caught sight of a man holding a long staff with a loop on the end. With a jab, the man thrust the loop at him, catching his wrist. The cord tightened, jerking Daro’s arm wide, as more men charged.
Daro felt a quick sting on his neck, and a burning sensation spread down his back. Flicking his hand across his skin, he swatted the tiny dart away, but his vision swam and his mind grew muddled. He drew a surge of energy to keep himself awake, but the poison raced through his body and made him stumble. As he looked up, he saw someone standing at a distance, raising a hollow tube to his lips. Another staff stabbed toward him, but he caught it, wrenching it from the attacker’s grip, and threw it at the dart blower. Daro scarcely had time to see if he hit his mark before more staffs lunged for him.
A mass of netting slammed into him, tangling his limbs. He stumbled forward, but the coil around his neck tugged backward and he lurched off his feet, hitting the ground with a crash. Gritting his teeth, he thrashed against his bonds, but another loop clamped around one leg. He kicked, summoning strength as more men surrounded him, and threw off the man at his leg. Another coil grasped his other leg and two more went for his arms. They pulled outward, spreading his limbs as he fought their grip. More coils looped around him and the net kept him trapped, unable to get up.
With a roar, he thrashed his arms and jerked several of his attackers from their feet, but more stepped in to take their place. They surrounded him, multiple men at each of his limbs, and another coil looped around his throat. A man darted in as they yanked his arms wide, pulling in different directions. He tried to channel more energy, but the poison made him groggy and his body felt heavy. The man bent down and clamped something around Daro’s forearm. Cold bit into his skin, stinging as if tiny spikes protruded into his flesh. His power immediately weakened, as if something was wedged between himself and the flow of energy around him.
Panic spread through his body and his consciousness honed in on a singular focus: They will not take me.
His mind went blank, all thought fleeing before the overwhelming, visceral fear. He would not be taken captive again. Pulling in a massive surge of energy, he tore his arms from their bonds and ripped the cold metal that was clamped around his forearm. Something deep inside registered the pain, as blood streamed from his wounds, but on
the surface he took no notice. Grabbing hold of the closest attacker, he unleashed, pouring all his power into him in a single, catastrophic deluge.
The man’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, as every orifice streamed light from within. Daro forced more energy into him and a massive concussion of sound erupted as the man burst apart in his hands. Surges of power raced along the staffs that held Daro, and the men wielding them exploded, spraying him with hot blood and entrails.
Daro’s hands shook as he ripped the coils from his limbs and neck. He stood up, stumbling backward away from the carnage. The bodies had been ripped apart, leaving nothing recognizable, bathing the area in blood. He couldn’t tell how many men he’d just killed, but the reality of what he’d done came to him as the panic subsided. His stomach churned and he turned to the side to retch, vomiting sickly bile into the blood-soaked grass.
The remaining men from the encampment shouted to each other as they fled. Daro turned to find Stoker, Shale, and Serv standing in the midst of several bodies, their weapons drawn. Shale let his stone armor fall to the ground and Serv sheathed his weapon.
His three friends stared at him and Daro looked down. He was covered in blood, bits of flesh clinging to his soaked clothes. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the ground, not caring that the weather was cold. With a shuddering breath, he stepped forward and Serv walked over to meet him.
Serv reached into his vest and handed him a piece of cloth. Daro struggled to control his shaking limbs as he wiped his face and neck.
“You did what needed to be done,” Serv said, his blue eyes intent on Daro’s face.
Daro nodded, still trembling, and followed Serv back to the horses. His mount snorted, the smell of blood making her nervous, but Daro hoisted himself into his saddle and rode away without looking back.
