Betta stopped and glared at Lamorun. “A servant to the gods!” She went back to work painting Alronna’s face. “Not a god.”
“Do you know if he has the Rod?” Lakhoni looked from Ekalb to Betta and back.
“What is the Rod?” Ekalb cocked his head back and forth and rubbed his wrist on his chin again.
Lakhoni stared at Ekalb. The man was painted like a jaguar. Was.. was he acting like a jaguar too?
Simra answered. “It’s a Relic of power. Used to raise an army?”
Ekalb turned his strange, still stare on Simra. “We know of no Rod.”
“Finished!” Betta wiped her fingers off on her dress, which was made of woven cloth.
Alronna turned to the others. “What did she paint?”
Betta threw her arms around Alronna again, then took her hands and pulled her around to face the tall, stout woman again. “Your totem will be with you.” She let Alronna go and stepped back. Ekalb followed her, his steps light while Betta’s were heavy. It seemed like the woman was planting her feet on the ground with deliberate force. “Now. Go. He stirs up hearts.”
Ekalb didn’t take his gaze from Lakhoni’s face as the two Marapuc walked away. “You must hurry,” Betta said. “If he gains the pure water, all will be tainted.”
“Wait!” Lakhoni lunged after them. “What is the pure water?”
Betta and Ekalb didn’t answer, their pace accelerating until they were running. Lakhoni chased after them, but at least ten of the Marapuc slipped out of the trees around them, clawed weapons bared. “What is the pure water?”
Betta stopped and turned. She huffed loudly. “All I know is that it is in the high place of death and rebirth. You must stop him.”
She and Ekalb melted into the forest, followed by the Marapuc warriors. Lakhoni turned back to his companions, frustration filling him. The wide river valley spread beyond the other four, the rough mountains at its edge. “The high place,” Lakhoni repeated. “The mountains!”
The others turned and looked at the mountains, then back to Lakhoni. Lamorun nodded and swung his cudgel a few times. “Let’s get moving.”
Lakhoni fell in next to Simra as Hilana took her place next to Lamorun.
“Wait!” Alronna’s shout stopped everyone in their tracks. “What did she paint on my face?”
Sharp brown and gray lines traced from Alronna’s ears to her chin, making her face look almost angular and pointed. Thin red lines seemed to depict fur on her forehead and cheeks, and yellow and white lines extended from her lips down her chin. They looked like fangs.
“I think that’s a wolf,” Hilana said.
“Wolf?” Lakhoni and Simra grimaced at Hilana, then turned back to Alronna. Lakhoni bent closer and nodded. “It’s a minga.”
“It’s a wolf,” Hilana said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go.”
“What is a wolf?” Alronna asked.
“It’s a minga.” Lakhoni shook his head. “Not whatever a wolf is.”
Lamorun burst out laughing. “Tempted as I am to let this continue,” he collected himself. “Wolf is minga in the Old Language. They are the same thing.”
Alronna shook her head in frustration. “She painted me to look like a minga? What has that got to do with the earth?” She struck out toward the river. “I have to see this.”
Lakhoni kept a continuous watch while walking, but finally figured out what was bothering him most from the interaction with the Marapuc. “If they didn’t see Gadnar, how could they know about him? How could they know he was called the Red Prince back in Zyronilxa?”
Simra kicked a rock off the path. She made a sound in her throat. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about that ever since they said it.”
“There must have been a traveler that came through here and told them.” Hilana gestured toward the river. “It’s out of the way, but they can’t be completely isolated.”
“Who would come here from Zyronilxa?” Lakhoni glanced toward the river. Alronna had gone out of sight, but only a few moments before. “We’re only here because of Gadnar. How could trade with anyone this far away be worth it?”
Nobody had an answer to that. They walked along in silence until Alronna reappeared some time later. Her eyes were wide, which only enhanced the effect of the painting. “That looks very strange.”
“I thought you were going to clean it off,” Simra said.
“I did too.” Lakhoni brushed a finger on the now-dried paint. It felt crusty and a bit of red paint flaked off at his touch.
Alronna fell into step as they continued. “I thought about it, but decided what would it hurt to leave it on?”
“We were just discussing how those people knew about Gadnar,” Lakhoni said.
Simra extended a hand and pointed one finger. “First of all, they called him the Red Prince. I don’t understand how they could have known he was called that. Anyone?” She looked to the others, eyebrows raised. Nobody answered, so she continued. “They called him the broken one, which sounds like they knew he was hurt. And then they said he’s seeking healing, which makes sense if he’s hurt. Which we know he was by Alronna’s arrow.” She trailed off. “This is not making much sense.”
“Except,” Alronna said, “it’s all about Gadnar. And it’s telling us more about what he’s trying to do.” She smacked Lakhoni’s arm with the back of her hand. “And I’m the one having the dreams and Betta seemed to understand that something different was happening to me.”
“But how can we believe what these people are saying? That would be like saying that rain dance the hill-people were doing was actually going to satisfy some strange god.” Lakhoni’s head swam with questions and doubts. Why couldn’t this be as simple as chasing down Molgar had been? And how could he possibly be longing for the time when he had to fight Molgar and Shelu? He brushed his fingertips down his dagger and performed his centering exercise. Breathe in. Feel the earth beneath his feet. The cool breeze whispering on his chest, arms, neck, and face. Breathe out. Calm the mind. Focus.
Lamorun spat in the dirt and stopped directly in front of the other four, facing them. “It is time to stop playing stupid.”
Lakhoni wanted to make an angry retort, but held onto his center. “What are you talking about? We don’t know enough about what’s going on.”
“Did that stop you from crossing the entire kingdom in search of Alronna and to avenge our parents’ murder?” Lamorun stared Lakhoni down.
Heat rose in Lakhoni’s face. “No, but that was simpler. I just had to find Alronna and it made the most sense that she was in Zyronilxa.”
“And that is what we are doing,” Lamorun said. “Strange things are occurring. Things that cannot be explained.”
“The boar,” Hilana said. “I never saw its hooves touch the ground and it didn’t bleed.”
“Its eyes glowed as if lit by fire within,” Lamorun said. “I thrust my spear through it and felt no resistance.”
“But Alronna cut it open,” Simra said.
“And it didn’t bleed,” Hilana repeated.
“Then it disappeared into the river,” Lakhoni said. “And we couldn’t hurt it, but it tore me open.”
“Remember that Alronna’s sword, the Sword of Nubal,” Lamorun paused meaningfully. “One of the ancient Relics, is the only thing that cut the ghostly boar.” He searched each of his companions’ face. Lakhoni looked into his brother’s eyes. They didn’t waver. And Lakhoni began to understand where Lamorun was going with his speech.
“We don’t see special power from the Sword, but the legends say it has power.” Lamorun let out a noisy breath. “Between the boar, the Sword, those… lizard things, the Marapuc, Alronna’s dreams, and the legends we’ve been learning about, it is time for us to admit that there is something more happening here.”
“Something more?” Lakhoni asked. He knew what Lamorun was saying, but he needed to hear his brother say it aloud.
Lamorun waved the hand that wasn’t holding his cudgel in circles
above his head. “You know what I’m talking about. Something beyond what we can see or control. Something we do not understand.”
Simra shook her head. “But what? That Gadnar is some kind of magical being? Or that he’s being guided by some powerful god or totem or servant god? That he’s actually able to be healed from his injury or whatever is broken in him?”
“The exact nature of it is not important,” Lamorun said. “But do we all accept that something else is happening? That the Sword might actually have a power we do not understand? That perhaps the Rod, whatever it is, does as well?”
“This is pointless,” Lakhoni said. “It makes no difference. We have to find Gadnar and kill him. That’s it.” He made as if to continue walking, but Lamorun put a hand out, stopping him.
“It makes a difference, Lakhoni.” Lamorun met everyone’s gaze. Lakhoni felt the weight of his brother’s stare and forced himself not to look away. “Unexplainable things will continue to happen. Creatures with glowing red eyes will surely continue to attack us. We must expect them and try to be ready to meet them well.”
“So you’re saying the totem Betta put on my face is going to help?” Alronna picked black paint off her nose. She stuck her chin out, but then she looked down. Her voice grew pensive. “But I have been having those dreams.”
“Which led us here,” Hilana said. She stepped closer to Lamorun, her head cocked to the side as she regarded him. “You are right, club leg. I don’t understand what’s going on.” She stood straight and smiled at Lakhoni, Simra, and Alronna. “But I know I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
Simra kicked at a root in the path and fidgeted with one of her pouches. “It felt like something was pulling me under that water. Something in the river.”
“Betta and Ekalb talked about evil in the water.” Hilana looked to Lakhoni. “Where did the nightmare boar disappear?”
“Into a river.” Lakhoni closed his eyes, clenching his jaw tightly. He could not deny it. This felt true. Real. Another thought occurred to him. “And those lizard things came from the direction of the river.” He let out an angry breath. This was taking too long, but it felt like something needed to be spoken aloud—and they were getting closer to it. “And there has been no rain.”
“Water seems to be part of all of this,” Simra said.
The memory of so many months ago hit Lakhoni like a lightning bolt. “That day. Ancestors, that day!” He had seen the warriors in the forest. He knew now that their leader had been Shelu. “I saw them before they killed our parents. I ran to warn the village, but fell in the river. The river! If I hadn’t fallen and gotten hurt, I would have made it. I could have saved them.” Something about the image in his memory didn’t fit that. He thought hard.
“Even back then?” Simra’s eyes went wide. “That doesn’t make any sense. We’ve been in plenty of rivers and streams during our travels. It’s not all evil. Water can’t be evil.”
“No,” Alronna said. “Betta said the evil in the water.”
“Wait,” Lakhoni searched his memory. He was wrong. “That’s not right. I tripped over a root in the ground and cut my side open on a torn tree branch. Then fell in the water, which actually made me feel better.”
Lamorun put his hand on Lakhoni’s shoulder, his expression softening. “If you had made it to the village and warned them, you would have died with our parents.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Shelu was too strong and he wasn’t alone.”
The air went out of Lakhoni. “That’s true. And then Alronna would have been a slave forever.” Confusion spiked again in Lakhoni’s mind. He sought his center, but everything seemed to swirl in him from his feet to the crown of his head.
Lamorun’s face went slack. “As would I.” He whispered harshly. “I would still be a nameless slave.”
Simra had lost all the color in her cheeks. “And…” she trailed off. Her voice was a whisper. “I would never have met you.” She looked at Lakhoni with soft eyes.
Hilana nodded. “The same.”
Alronna took Lakhoni by his other shoulder. “And you wouldn’t have found me. And Molgar would have won, with Gadnar at his side the entire way.”
Lakhoni shook his head, frantically searching for his center. “All because I tripped over a root.” But what did it mean? What was happening?
Silence filled the spaces between them all as each of them searched for answers.
Taking a slow breath, Lakhoni pictured the air going in and out. He needed clarity. He relaxed the muscles of his face and breathed. His feet on the solid rocks and clay. His hands by his sides, the leather on his legs soft and strong. His feet on the ground. The solid earth.
The solid earth.
He snapped into his center with a sound so audible to his mind that he looked up, certain the others had heard it. His family caught his movement and looked into his face, questions in their expression.
Cool, calm, certainty flowed into Lakhoni.
He had tripped on a root. Something from the earth. Without that accident, wickedness would be upon all the land already. He had always found his center by feeling his feet pressed against the implacable earth of mountains, river banks, and trails. And the pressure that had pushed him to all fours in the canyon just before the lizards attacked—that had disappeared the moment he’d dug his fingers in the dirt and fought to find his center.
And now Alronna had an earth totem to watch over and guide her, according to Betta.
And the Sword of Nubal had been deep in a cave, beneath stone and hidden by a mountain of stone. Safe. The Guide had been buried in the hard-packed ground beneath Mother’s bed.
Always the earth.
He met Simra’s eyes. Deep brown. A little red when the light was just right. Green flecks when he got close enough to catch her scent, feel her lips. Hilana was just behind Simra. She was loyal and fierce. She still had colorful thread woven through a long, thin braid that hung just behind her left ear. Lamorun. Solid and unstoppable. Strong like the toughest leather. And Alronna. Enslaved and bitter, but she had found her way out of that and into strength and action. She had brought justice to Shelu. She was the guide of the group.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Lakhoni said. “I don’t know what earth and water have to do with all this and how they seem so tied to everything we do.” He took a step and put his arms around those he could reach, urging everyone to start walking. “But I am certain there is something happening.”
“What?” Simra pulled Lakhoni’s arm from her shoulders and examined the scrapes along his forearm. “Did you remember something?”
Lakhoni picked up his pace, willing some of his strength into Simra. “Yes.” He smiled and thought fast, trying to figure out where to start. “Have I ever told any of you how I find my center?”
Lamorun laughed. “Find your center?” He slapped his own hard stomach. “This is a man’s center. That is the warrior way—to draw power from the middle.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Lakhoni said. “We have a lot to talk about.” He spoke carefully as they walked quickly down the path, the sun casting their shadows just ahead of them, as if guiding their steps.
Even with the passage of two days, the certainty Lakhoni had felt on the path just beyond the Marapuc had not faded.
Neither had the paint stains on Alronna’s face, despite the paint having flaked and washed off completely. The colors that remained were not as vivid as when the paint had still been there, but were still easily seen. Lakhoni studied Alronna’s face carefully, not wanting to catch her notice. The lines and colors matched her jaw and cheeks well. She looked dangerous now.
The companions had hunted while walking, keeping their pace fast, but not so much that Simra was overtaxed. She fought hard to hide her exhaustion, but at the end of the day, she was asleep almost before she ate. Lakhoni made sure she had the first cut of the small creatures Lamorun, Alronna, and Hilana had learned to hunt and capture in the forest as they journeyed.
The path had taken them across the wide valley, then into what they had thought were foothills from miles away.
These were not foothills.
Lakhoni guessed that the cliff face to their left, perhaps a half mile away, was at least fifty men high. The hills they had seen were the sloping sides of these strange formations. Most had a long, sloping side covered in hardy green grass and boulders that seemed to have formed or grown right from the ground. But always at least one side of the hill cut off at a ridge, leaving a jagged cliff face.
“This land is… strange.” Lakhoni took another gulp of water and let his water skin drop to hang by his side.
“As if a giant, god-sized Alronna came through here with her sword and cut some of these hills in half, taking part for herself.” Lamorun laughed at his own joke.
Nobody else laughed.
“Lamorun is strange too.” Hilana said.
Everyone laughed at that, even Lamorun—his booming laugh bouncing off stones strewn everywhere. Lakhoni marveled at his brother. The limp was gone completely. His previously crushed leg seemed perfectly fine. How had Lamorun come through all that he had and become who he was now?
“Which way?” Alronna walked at the front most of the time now, shrugging or making a clicking sound with her tongue when they came to a choice of going left or right. Like now. “Let me consult my totem.” She shook her head, smiling in a tired, resigned expression. She traced one of the not-fading lines from down her jawline to her chin. “It was right last time. So this time let’s go left.”
Alronna angled slightly and led the group around the base of the long slope that led up to a ridge at least a mile uphill.
“Are you sure?” Simra asked Alronna, feigning concern. “Maybe we should go the other way.”
“And probably end up in the same place,” Alronna said.
“True.”
Alronna cocked her head at Simra and raised an eyebrow. They both burst out laughing.
Something had changed in the group. After that day and night of travel and camping, where he had shared the thoughts that had poured into him, Lakhoni’s companions seemed more at ease. He felt calmer. Like something that had been shouting or jabbing at him inside had been quieted. He didn’t mind. With each step bringing them closer to Gadnar, there was no time or energy to spare on worry or squabbles.
Red Prince Page 17
