My heart sinks. That blasted mage has my father's hatchet. I choose not to say anything though, deciding instead to walk over to one of the knocked-out guards.
"What are you doing?" Zara whispers incredulously, her head halfway through the window.
"Being useful," I snap back. Reaching around one of the mage's necks, I pull off a chain holding a small, bluish crystal.
A talisman.
"Here," I say, handing it up to Zara. "These things can be used by anyone, right?"
She nods and takes the chain before squeezing her way through the window. Well, at least two of us are armed now. I make a silent vow to return here and retrieve my father's hatchet as soon as I am able.
Once she is out, Elias turns to look at me. "Your turn," he says in a low voice.
I do not argue. Stepping on his cupped hands, I propel myself up to the window where the cool night air greets me like an old friend. Grasping the stone wall for support, I pull myself through, sliding through the dirt and leaves of the garden on the side of the house.
Zara is up there waiting for me, crouching behind a shrub and holding her arms tightly around herself. I brush myself off and move to crouch right beside her.
"Are you alright?" I whisper.
She nods, but does not otherwise reply. She glances around nervously as if she expects her former colleagues to bear down on us at any minute.
Now that I think about it, they just might.
The dark sky is covered with a smattering of clouds, so it is hard to judge the time, but I imagine that we are still several hours away from dawn. Even with the exhausting day we have had, including the fight with the darkhound, I find that my mind is razor sharp. My sore muscles and bruises are numbed by the anxiety of our escape.
Elias pries himself from the narrow window, somehow managing to remain almost completely silent despite his large frame and the gear his carrying. I shake my head in wonder at how he managed to do that twice while carrying a longbow and quiver.
"What do we do now?" Zara asks, her tone bordering on the hysterical.
He points to the line of trees on the edge of the hill, perhaps a dozen paces away from the manor. "We make for the forest," is his reply. "I have horses and supplies waiting for us in the woods."
"What if someone sees us?" Zara hisses.
He gives her one of his signature hard looks. "Stay low and move quickly. We'll be alright. Most of the house is still asleep."
Pausing only for a moment to look around, he takes off across the wide lawn, moving in a sort of half-run, half-crouch. He does not look back to see if we are following.
"Come on," I say to Zara, stepping out from behind the shrub. "It isn't that far."
I can hear her curse softly as we both start running, going as fast as we can across the grass. With the lights of the manor at our backs I feel exposed out in the open, but we manage to make it more than halfway across without any incident.
Then, we hear the shouting.
The unconscious bodies in the cellar have been discovered, and the house begins to buzz with activity, reminding me of a disturbed hornet’s nest. We practically dive into the bushes of the tree line as we make it to Elias' position, doing what we can to hide in the shadows and looking back to see if we were spotted.
More lights begin to turn on and we can see figures moving frantically within the governor's mansion, shouting and gesturing wildly. I know that it is only a matter of time before they discover the open window and start sending search parties into the woods to come after us.
"Let's go," Elias grunts, disappearing into the trees like a ghost. If it wasn't for the months of training that he has given me, I doubt Zara and I would be able to follow him in the gloom.
Down the hill he leads us to a shadowed clearing where three horses are tethered to a gnarled oak. My mare is not one of them, and I find myself hoping that she is okay. These horses are fresh, and the saddlebags hanging over the side appear to be bulging with supplies.
We mount up in silence, the shouts of the angry mages following us deep into the woods. Zara looks like she is about to fall over from exhaustion, so I take her by the hand and help her onto one of the horses. She gives me a strange look as I do so, though I pay it little mind.
The situation is too tense for me to feel awkward.
Looking back, I can see that there are search parties organizing outside of the manor house, flickering torches held high to shine light in potential hiding places, but we quickly outpace them on the horses and soon lose all sight of civilization.
Elias does not relent. Even when I feel like we have escaped Forest Hill he pushes onward, leading us deeper and deeper into the Emberwood. We take game trails and narrow pathways through the undergrowth, twisting through the trees in dizzying paths until even I am disoriented and confused.
Finally, after what seems like a full two hours of riding we pull our horses to a stop near an outcropping of rocks.
My master dismounts and looks around, making sure that we are alone and secluded. Then, he approaches me as I step off my mare and grabs me roughly by the collar of my tunic.
"Hey!" I protest as he shakes me, pushing me up against the trunk of a tree. My wounded arm, which I never had a chance to re-stitch, is pressed hard against the rough bark, sending shockwaves of pain up into my shoulder.
"What in the Hells were you thinking, Owyn!" He growls, his face not two inches from mine. For the first time since I have known him he looks angry. Furious, even. It is, perhaps, the first emotion I have seen him outwardly express.
And it is terrifying. Right now, I'd prefer to be facing another darkhound.
"I was only trying to help!" I answer weakly. My panicked voice cracks, but Elias does not release me.
His slate grey eyes glitter dangerously in the low light of the stars. "Your recklessness as put us all in incredible danger. What could possibly be worth making enemies of the Conclave?"
"It was my doing," says Zara timidly. She is standing behind Elias with her hands clasped in front of her. "I convinced Owyn to take me to where he saw the demon."
Elias looks over his shoulder to regard her, but he still does not release his grip on me. "Then you share the blame equally. Now, both of you start talking. Why did I risk my neck to break you two out of prison?"
Zara begins to tell the story.
"When your apprentice testified in front of the mages, something about his story intrigued me. I wondered how someone could fabricate a tale and yet be able to tell it so convincingly in front of some of the most powerful magic users in Tarsynium. Then, I started doing research. An ancient book in my possession on demonology confirmed his description of the demon. I believed that he saw something called a darkhound."
Elias stares at her for a moment, then finally lets go of me. I slump against the bark of the tree and rub my chest.
"I approached him the morning after the inn was attacked, to ask him a few questions. His story and the book seemed so similar that I concluded it could not have been a coincidence. I managed to convince him to sneak away with me, just for a day or two, to show me where he had seen the demon."
Finally finding my voice, I speak up to finish the story. "We rode straight there and found the clearing with the deer, but nothing was there. Then she cast some sort of spell and the darkhound showed up and attacked us."
An expression flashes across Elias' features – this time surprise. "Are you certain? Could it not have been a feral mountain lion or a wolf?"
"It was a darkhound. A subspecies of demon called a shadowling," Zara says seriously. "It matched perfectly with the description in my book."
"We managed to fight it off, and Zara used her magic to kill it." I point west to emphasize my point. "Its body is still out there, and it will prove our innocence."
Elias rubs his chin thoughtfully, and begins to pace the small clearing beneath the stone outcropping. Then, after a few minutes he looks over at us, his expression perfectly neutral once again.
"Did you tell the Arch-magister everything that you just told me?"
Zara nods, her brown eyes growing sad. "We tried. When we arrived back in town we went straight to her. But for some reason she would not believe us, and wouldn't give us a chance to prove that we are innocent. She called us traitors and sentenced us to exile on the spot."
Elias seems to consider this for a moment. "Perhaps she is afraid that the presence of a demon within the Arc would make the Conclave appear weak. It is possible that she sees it as a threat to her power."
Zara and I remain silent. The gravity of our situation and the sheer exhaustion of the last day and half finally seem to have caught up with us.
My master abruptly makes his way to the horses and begins to unload our things. "We camp here for the night. We should be far enough away that we will not be discovered. In the morning, you will take me to see the corpse of this demon." He tosses me my bedroll and begins rummaging through one of his packs. "I do not believe that you two are lying to me, but some things a man has to see for himself."
Zara and I look at each other, dumbfounded. "Master," I say, "you want to see the body?"
"Yes," he replies simply. "If it is true, and demons are finding their way into the kingdom, then we are facing the biggest threat humanity has seen since the Doom. That makes a little treason look like nothing in comparison."
He says it with such a deadpan expression that for a moment I am confused. Did Elias just make a joke?
"I am well rested," he continues, handing a small parcel of food over to Zara. "I will stand watch for the rest of the night. You both stand in need of rest, I think."
We both murmur our agreement.
As we begin unrolling our bedrolls, I wince at the pain in my arm. The damn thing feels infected, I think to myself as I touch it tenderly with my fingers.
"You're hurt," Elias observes, walking over to me with his hand on his belt knife.
I nod. "From the fight back at the inn. I must have burst some of the stitches when we fought the demon."
Zara looks over at me as she lays out her bed roll, her eyes concerned.
"Let me see it," Elias says gruffly, stepping next to me and helping me roll up my sleeve. After a minute he makes his way over to his saddlebags without another word and begins rummaging through them.
When he returns he carries a small pouch, from which he produces a needle, a roll of gut, and a small vial. "You shouldn't have waited this long to take care of this, Owyn," he mutters with a scolding tone. "This will need antiseptic to kill the infection."
"Between the demon and being thrown and jail, I haven't had a lot of time," I grumble.
He ignores my comments and begins working silently on my arm. The stitches are extremely painful, but I endure it stoically so that I do not look like a coward in front of Zara. She is pretending to be asleep, but I can still tell that she is watching covertly. When Elias applies the antiseptic, however, I can’t help but grunt in pain. It stings like acid as it is applied to my wound.
When it is finally over, Elias leaves to put away his supplies.
"Thank you, master," I say, gingerly preparing myself for bed.
He merely nods and picks up his bow, beginning his quiet watch so that we can rest.
I am so exhausted that I don't even bother eating or getting out of my cloak. The events of the last several days have taken a lot out of me. I slowly unroll my sleeping mat and climb under a blanket.
Then, blessedly, I fall into a light but dreamless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zara
We only manage to get a few hours of sleep before Elias wakes us up, though it feels like I have only just closed my eyes. For a moment I just lay there, tired, hungry and homeless, before I can summon enough energy to get up from my bedroll.
Elias and Owyn, Light curse them, are up and already packing away their things.
Blinking away the sleep from my eyes, I kneel down and begin rolling up my bedroll, forcing my complaints down with considerable difficulty.
How quickly my life has fallen apart. What have I done to deserve this? I have literally gone from being the brightest star at the Academy to being an escaped convict in the middle of some conspiracy that will probably get me killed.
Owyn seems to notice my foul mood, so he offers me some bread and honey. "Here," he says gently, giving me the wrapped bundle of food. "You eat while I saddle your horse."
I begrudgingly take the bundle and hand him my pack. "Thanks," I mutter, and he nods stoically. Apparently, simply being around Elias makes him want to emulate his master's mannerisms.
The bread is fresh and the honey is sweet, but it does little to lift my spirits. Too much has happened too quickly for me to even enjoy the taste of food.
What's going to happen to me? Am I going to end up like those deer?
Before long my breakfast is gone and the rangers are preparing their horses for departure. I follow suit, despair being replaced by apprehension as I approach my mount. The black and white mottled horse looks at me with a big, black eye, and memories of being thrown from the saddle begin to flood my mind.
Owyn glances at Elias, whose back is to us, then takes a step toward me offering a hand as he did last night.
I look from him to his hand and then back to him, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
He clears his throat. "Need a hand?"
I shake my head. "If I'm ever going to get over this perfectly rational fear of horses, I'm going to have to face it head on."
He nods and backs away, not even an ounce of humor in his eyes.
Swallowing my anxiety, I place my foot in the stirrup and pull myself up. My heart pounds as I ease into the saddle, but miraculously nothing happens. The horse just stands there, placidly eating grass. I flash Owyn a triumphant smile which he returns, looking more than a little impressed.
He turns to his own horse, deftly jumping into the saddle. He makes the action look as effortless as possible.
I roll my eyes at him. Show off.
As the two rangers pull away I nudge my horse forward, hooves plodding along on the hard-packed dirt. We leave our little campsite by the rocks behind as we descend into the woods, the temperature of the early morning dropping considerably as the trees cut us off from the sunlight.
I settle into a groove as we ride, the nervousness of being back on a horse lessening somewhat as we navigate through the tangled woods. We are not nearly going as fast as we were when the demon was chasing us, and the current pace is slow enough to give me a small measure of confidence.
Unfortunately, the less I think about riding, the more I am able to think about the bleak outlook of my current situation. The Arch-magister, one of the most powerful individuals of the Conclave, considers me to be an outlaw. My goal of becoming a full mage has been stripped away. To top it all off, there is a very real chance that demons are invading Tarsynium, and that the last kingdom of humanity is going to be completely destroyed or enslaved.
It could be worse, I think to myself bitterly. It could be raining.
The weather grows warmer and the Emberwood seems to come alive as we continue riding. I watch idly as a squirrel scampers up a nearby tree, and listen to the sounds of birds chirping and singing in the boughs above our heads. Nature doesn't care about the struggles we go through. People die and kingdoms fall, and still, life seems to go on.
There is probably a lesson in there somewhere, but right now I can't see it.
Perhaps now I don't want to.
Sometime during the late morning, Owyn slows down his horse and begins riding right next to me.
"Listen," he says. "I've been thinking..."
"That's a surprise," I reply, then flash him a slight, sarcastic smile to show that I am joking.
He gives me a flat look. "Very funny. Remember when you told me that the Nightingales who attacked us had been bewitched by a demon?"
I nod. "I remember. It is a process called mindflaying. The R'Laar used to do
it to people during the Great War."
"Were darkhounds responsible for mindflaying?"
"Darkhounds? I'm not sure."
He hesitates, gathering his thoughts. "It's just that... I find it hard to believe that a darkhound would be capable of casting a spell. I mean, the creature we fought was fearsome, but I don't think it had the mental fortitude to mentally manipulate people, do you?"
I take a moment to consider his observation. "No," I reply thoughfully. "No, I don't think so."
"Exactly. That's my point... if the Nightingales were bewitched, wouldn't that mean that there is a more powerful demon out there right now, controlling them?"
"I suppose that it would." The thought of more powerful demons roaming the wilderness is a disturbing one.
A grim silence passes between us as the implications sink in.
After a minute or two, Owyn speaks up again. "This leads me to another question. How are the Nightingales involved at all? What is their role in all of this?"
I actually do have an answer to this. "Perhaps this demon, whatever it is, saw the Nightingales as a scapegoat. Who better to frame their atrocities on than the people rebelling against the king? It would be a good way to cover their tracks. Maybe we can use this as an excuse to unite with the rebels against a common enemy."
Unexpectedly, his face darkens. "The Nightingales are scum, Zara. Cutthroats and traitors, all of them. I would not ally myself with them if the very kingdom was falling down around us."
"That is a rather narrow-minded viewpoint," I reply tersely.
His frown deepens to a glare and he clicks his tongue, nudging his horse forward and pulling away from me.
Apparently, our conversation is over.
I quirk an eyebrow at his back. Testy, aren't we? Though, I suppose I would harbor ill feelings against the Nightingales as well if they had attacked me in the middle of the night. Still, I can't help but what wonder why my suggestion to work with the rebels would evoke such an emotional response.
Shrugging, I turn my gaze back out to the woodlands, watching the trees and letting the scenes of nature occupy my thoughts. I am no expert in navigation, but I imagine that we still have many hours yet before we arrive at the demon's body.
Ranger's Oath Page 15
