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Touch of Power
Maria V. Snyder


THEY DESTROYED HER WORLD. BUT SHE'S THEIR ONLY HOPE…Avry’s power to heal the sick should earn her respect in the plague-torn land of Kazan. Instead she is feared. Her kind are blamed for the horrifying disease that has taken hold of the nation. When Avry uses her forbidden magic to save a dying child, she faces the guillotine. Until a dark, mysterious man rescues her from her prison cell.His people need Avry’s magic to save their dying prince. The very prince who first unleashed the plague on Kazan. Saving the prince is certain to kill Avry – yet she already faces a violent death. Now she must choose – use her healing touch to show the ultimate mercy or die a martyr to a lost cause?










Praise forNew York Timesbestselling author

MARIA V.

SNYDER

�Inside Out surprised and touched me on so many levels. It’s a wonderful, thoughtful book full of vivid characters … Maria V. Snyder is one of my favourite authors, and she’s done it again!’ —Rachel Caine

�A compelling new fantasy series.’

—SFXmagazine onSea Glass

�An intense, excellent read.’

—LocusonMagic Study

�There is a lovely light touch to this series reminiscent

of early Anne McCaffrey, so it’s gratifying to see that

Snyder has managed to deliver the old one-two

fantasy-literature punch.’

—Rhianna Pratchett,SFXon theStudyseries

�Storm Glass is accessible, unusual and most of all fun. If you’re looking for a quick, entertaining summer read, you couldn’t do much better.’ —Deathray


Also by New York Times bestselling authorMaria V. Snyder

Study Series

POISON STUDY

MAGIC STUDY

FIRE STUDY

Glass Series

STORM GLASS

SEA GLASS

SPY GLASS

Inside Series

INSIDE OUT

OUTSIDE IN

www.mirabooks.co.uk/mariavsnyder www.miraink.co.uk


Touch of Power

Maria V. Snyder






www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)





















For Jenna.

I hope you enjoy your story!




Acknowledgments


Novel number nine has a nice ring to it. Don’t you think? For the longest time, this book was either called the healer story, by my publisher/editor, or novel number nine by me. And yes, that’s why the mountain chain is called the Nine Mountains. I can also think of nine people who I need to thank for helping turn this idea I had into a story.

My daughter, Jenna, for asking every night, “What’s next?”

My agent, Bob Mecoy, for his help in sharpening the idea and selling it to MIRA.

My editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, for her feedback and for the title of this and the next two books.

Assistant editor, Elizabeth Mazer, for all she does in getting the manuscript ready.

To my critique partner, Kim J. Howe, for all the comments and suggestions to improve this story.

My assistant, Becky Greenly, for helping with organizing the increasing number of reader emails and for getting the mail out so I have more time to write.

My niece and researcher, Amy Snyder, for finding cool little-known facts about the Black Death.

My husband, Rodney, for holding down the fort while I’m out and about promoting books and for finding those misplaced commas and gaps in logic.

My son, Luke, for learning how to juggle and inspiring the character Flea.

Thanks so much!

I also need to thank the following nine groups of people who also work hard on my books and who have supported me and my books.

The art department for, once again, creating the perfect cover.

The public relations, marketing and sales departments for continuing to get the word out about my books.

Those who worked on the copy edits and line edits.

The digital team for ensuring all my books are available as ebooks and audio books.

Dianne Moggy and Reka Rubin for coordinating and selling my foreign rights.

To my local community for all the support and kudos.

To Seton Hill University’s MFA program students and staff for the support, motivation and inspiration—every residency is a shot in the arm.

To my Book Commandos for their continuing loyalty and for recommending my books to everyone you meet.

To my extended family for the love and support as I continue to write books. Amazing, I know! And a shout-out to my father—who reads every book despite not being a reader and who tells everyone he knows about me whether they want to know or not. Thanks, Dad!

Thank you all!




CHAPTER 1


The little girl wouldn’t stop crying. I didn’t blame her. She was dying, after all. Her lungs were so full of fluid she’d drown in another few hours. Tossing and turning on my thin mattress, I listened to her cries as they sawed through the floorboards and through my heart, cutting it in two.

One piece pleaded for me to save her, urging me to heal the girl with the bright smile and ginger curls. The other side pulsed a warning beat. Her family would thank me by turning me in to the town watch. I’d be hanged as a war criminal. No trial needed.

The horrors from the dark years of the plague were still fresh in the survivors’ minds. They considered those times a war. A war that had been started by healers, who then spread the deadly disease, and refused to heal it.

Of course it was utter nonsense. We couldn’t heal the plague. And we didn’t start it. But in the midst of the chaos, no one listened to reason. Someone had to be blamed. Right?

The girl’s screams pierced my heart. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Three years on the run. Three years of hiding. Three terrible years full of fear and loneliness. For what? My life? Yes, I live and breathe and exist. Nothing else.

Flinging my blankets off, I hurried downstairs. I didn’t need to change since I would never sleep in nightclothes or without my boots on. When you were on the run, the possibility of being surprised in the middle of the night was high. There was no time to waste when escaping, so I wore my black travel pants and black shirt to bed every night. The dark color ideal for blending into shadows.

Another trick of being on the run involved finding a second-floor room with both front and back doors and no skeletons. They were hard to find as most towns had burned the plague victims’ homes in the misguided attempt to destroy the disease. And many victims died alone. My current hideout was above the family with the dying child.

I knocked on my downstairs neighbors’ door loud enough for the sound to be heard over the child’s wet wails. When it opened, her mother, Mavis, stared wordlessly at me. She held the two-year-old girl in her strong arms, and the knowledge that her child was dying shone in her brown eyes. Her pale skin clung to her gaunt face. She swayed with pure exhaustion.

Underneath the sheen of tears and red flush of fever, the little girl’s skin had death’s pale hue. In a few moments, she wouldn’t have the breath to scream.

I held out my arms. “Mavis, go to sleep. I’ll watch … Fawn.” Finally, I remembered her name. Another rule to being on the run was to avoid getting close to anyone. No friends. But I needed to earn money, and I had to make a few acquaintances in order to keep up with the gossip. I’d stayed with Mavis’s children on occasion, which helped with both.

Panicked, Mavis pulled Fawn closer to her.

“The rest of your family needs you, as well. You should rest before you collapse or get sick.”

She hesitated.

“I will wake you if anything changes. I promise.”

Mavis’s resistance crumpled and she handed me Fawn. Well beyond lucidity, the little girl didn’t notice the change in the arms around her, but my magic sprang to life at the touch, pushing to be released from my core. Fawn’s skin burned and her clothes were damp with sweat. I cradled Fawn as I sat in the big wooden rocking chair in the living room. The lantern burned low, casting a weak yellow light over the threadbare furniture. This family hadn’t looted from their neighbors, which said much about them.

Next to the window I had a clear view of the street. A half-moon illuminated the burned ruins of buildings huddled along a dirt road. Rainwater had filled the holes and ruts. The plague had killed roughly six million people—two-thirds of the population—so there was no one left to attend to minor tasks like fixing the roads or clearing away the debris. The fact that this town … Jaxton? Or was it Wola? They all blurred together. Either way, having a local government town watch, basic commerce, no piles of skeletons and a tiny—a few hundred at most—populace was more than many other towns could claim.

I rocked Fawn, humming a tune my mother had sung to me years ago. Tendrils of my magic seeped into Fawn’s body. Her cries lost the hysterical edge.

Mavis watched us for a few minutes. Did she suspect? Would she take her child back? Instead, she heeded my advice and went to bed. Waiting for Mavis to fall into a deep sleep, I rocked and hummed. Once I was certain enough time had passed, I stopped the chair. Concentrating on the girl in my arms, I allowed my full power to flow into Fawn until she was saturated with it. The release of magic sent a ripple of contentment through me. This was my area of expertise. What I should be doing.

Then I drew it back into me, cleaning out the sickness inside Fawn. My lungs filled with fluid as hers drained. I broke into a fever as hers cooled.

She hiccupped a few times, then breathed in deep. Her body relaxed and she fell into an exhausted sleep.

The sickness nestled in my chest, causing me to suck in noisy wet breaths. I couldn’t pull enough air into my lungs. Goose bumps raced across my skin as a sliver of fear touched my heart. I hadn’t healed anyone this sick before. Would I be strong enough? Had I waited too long to help Fawn? My own cowardice would kill me. Fitting.

The effort to breathe consumed my energy. Black and white spots swirled in my vision as I fought to stay conscious. Even though my body healed ten times faster than a regular person’s, I was quite aware that it might not be fast enough.

Luckily, this wasn’t that time. The crushing tightness around my ribs eased a fraction. I concentrated on the simple act of breathing.

Mavis woke me in the morning. I had fallen asleep with Fawn still in my arms.

“How did you get her to sleep? She hasn’t stopped crying in days,” Mavis said.

Still groggy, I searched for a good explanation. “My tuneless humming must have bored her.” My voice rasped with phlegm and set off a coughing fit.

“Uh-huh.” She peered at me with a contemplative purse on her lips.

“Her fever broke last night,” I tried between coughs.

Unconvinced, Mavis gently lifted Fawn and transferred the girl to her crib. “You should rest, as well. You look …”

I waved off her concern. “Nothing a couple of hours of sleep won’t cure.” But my legs betrayed me as I staggered to my feet. Moving with care, I headed toward the door.

When I reached for the knob, Mavis said, “Avry.”

I froze and glanced over my shoulder, waiting for the accusation.

“Thank you.”

Nodding, I hurried from the room. The climb to my place drained all my strength. I hacked up blood as the sweat poured from my body. I needed to grab my escape bag and leave town. Now. But when I bent to retrieve the knapsack from under the bed, a wave of dizziness overwhelmed me. Instead of fleeing, I collapsed on the floor.

A part of my mind knew I only required a few hours of sleep to recover, while another part planned the quickest route out of town. A third part still worried. With good reason.

A fist pounded on the door hard enough that I felt the vibrations through my cheek. Waking with a jolt, I scrambled to my feet. A male voice ordered me to surrender. Darkness filled the room and pressed against the windowpane. I had slept all day.

Unfortunately, this situation wasn’t new to me. I scooped up my escape bag and exited through the back door. Pausing on the landing, I scanned the area. Moonlight lit the wooden steps. No one blocked them. Hurrying down, I shouldered my pack and ran through the empty alley that reeked of cat urine.

A figure stood at the alley’s southern exit so I turned around. Except the northern route was also blocked. The only way out was through the tight space between buildings to the street where there would no doubt be more town watchmen.

The crash of a door echoed off the bricks. Upon my landing, a man called, “Do you have her?”

The two in the alley closed in. Guess I would take my chances. I darted through the narrow opening and right into a waiting town watchman’s arms.

Voices yelled, “Don’t touch her skin.”

“Take her pack.”

“Cuff her quick.”

The drowning sickness had rendered me too weak to put up much of a fight. In mere seconds, my hands were manacled behind my back. My three years on the run had ended. It was hard to tell if fear or relief dominated. At this point, both had equal sway.

The captain of the watchmen yanked my shirt off my right shoulder, exposing my healer tattoo to the crowd. It appeared as if the entire town had gathered to witness my arrest. As expected, they gasped at the proof of the monster in their midst. And to think, I had once been proud of the symbol of my profession—a simple circle of hands. From a few feet away, it resembled a daisy with hand-shaped petals.

I scanned faces as the watchmen congratulated themselves on their catch. Mavis and her husband stood among the gawkers. He glared and approached me, dragging Mavis along. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. Little Fawn clung to her mother’s leg.

“It doesn’t matter that you saved my girl’s life,” the husband said. “Your kind is responsible for millions of deaths. And the gold your execution will bring this town is sorely needed.”

True. Tohon of Sogra placed a bounty of twenty golds for every healer caught and executed. I suspect the plague killed one or more of his loved ones. Otherwise, why would a powerful life magician care? The disease certainly didn’t care, eliminating people without rhyme or reason.

Right before I was escorted to the jail, Fawn waved bye-bye to me. I smiled. My empty, pointless life for hers. Not bad.

Inside the town watch’s station house I endured endless rounds of questions. They wanted me to turn over my healer cohorts. I almost laughed at that. I hadn’t encountered another healer in three years. In fact, I’d guessed they had been smarter than me and had found a nice refuge to hide in while they waited for this current madness to pass.

I refused to answer their ridiculous queries, letting their voices flow past me as I concentrated on Fawn’s healthy face. Eventually they removed the manacles, measured me for my coffin and locked me in a cell below ground level, promising tomorrow would be my last day. I had an appointment with the guillotine. Lovely.

At least the guards left a lantern hanging on the stone wall opposite my cell—a basic cube with iron bars on three sides and one stone wall. Equipped with a slop pot and metal bed, I had the space to myself. And no neighbors in the adjoining cells. The bedsprings squealed under my weight. My lungs wheezed in the damp air thanks to Fawn’s stubborn sickness.

I wasn’t as terrified as I had imagined. In fact, I was looking forward to my first solid night’s sleep in three years. Ah, the little things in life.

Too bad, I didn’t even get my last wish.




CHAPTER 2


A low cough woke me from a sound sleep. Instincts kicked in and I jumped to my feet before I realized where I was. In jail, awaiting execution.

“Easy,” a man said. He stood near the door to my cell. Although armed with a sword, he wasn’t wearing the town watch’s uniform. Instead, he wore a short black cape, black pants and boots. The lantern’s glow lit the strong and familiar features of his face. I remembered him from the crowd that gawked at my arrest.

I waited.

“Are you truly a healer?” he asked.

“You saw the tattoo.”

“For a town on the edge of survival, twenty golds is a considerable sum. I’ve learned that desperate people do desperate things, like tattoo an innocent person. Is that what happened to you?” He leaned forward as if my answer was critical.

“Who wants to know?” I asked.

“Kerrick of Alga.”

I’d thought he was a town official, but the Realm of Alga was north of the Nine Mountains. If he wasn’t lying, then he had traveled far from his home. “Well, Kerrick of Alga, you can go back to your bed and rest easy. The watchmen caught the right girl … and by tomorrow this town will be safe once again.” Which wasn’t entirely true. At twenty years of age, I wouldn’t call myself a girl, but woman sounded too … formal.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“It’s important.” He sounded so sincere and he stared at me as if I held his fate in my hands.

I huffed. What did it matter now? “Avry.”

“Of?”

“Nowhere. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

“It does.”

“Of Kazan. Happy?”

Instead of answering, Kerrick clutched the bars with both his hands and leaned his forehead against them for a moment. I had thought he felt guilty about my impending execution, but his recent behavior failed to match.

When he knelt on one knee, worry replaced curiosity. He withdrew long metal picks from a pocket. I backed away as fear swirled. Should I yell for the guards? What if he already had knocked them out?

He unlocked the cell. The door swung open. By this time, I had reached the back wall.

Straightening, he gestured. “Come on.”

I didn’t move.

“Do you want to be executed?”

“Some things are worse than death,” I said.

“What … Oh. I won’t hurt you. I promise. I’ve been searching for a healer for two years.”

Now I understood. “You want the bounty for yourself.”

“No. You’re worth more alive than dead.” He paused, knowing he had said the wrong thing. “I meant, I need you to heal someone for me. Once he’s better, you can go back into hiding or do whatever you’d like.” Although muffled, raised voices and the sounds of a commotion reached us. Kerrick glanced to his left. “But if you don’t come right now, there won’t be another chance.” He held out his hand.

I hesitated. Trust a complete stranger or remain in jail and be executed in the morning? If he was sincere, Kerrick’s offer meant I would have my life back. My life on the run. Not appealing, but that survival instinct, which had spurred me on these past three years, once again flared to life. What if he was lying? I’d deal with it later. Right now, it didn’t matter; living suddenly took precedence over dying.

I grabbed his hand. Warm calloused fingers surrounded mine. He tugged me down the corridor. I hadn’t been paying close attention when I had arrived, but I knew this way led to more cells. There was one door into the jail. And loud noises emanated from that direction. Fear twisted. Crazy how a few hours ago I hadn’t cared if I lived or died, but now a desperate need to live consumed me.

Our way dead-ended, but Kerrick pushed open the last cell’s door. Moonlight and cold air streamed from a small window high on the stone wall.

Kerrick whistled like a night robin. A young man poked his head though the opening. “What took you so long?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer as he reached both hands out.

“Grab his wrists,” Kerrick said as he boosted me up.

I clasped wrists with him. He pulled me through the window with surprising speed and strength for a skinny kid. His feat was due to the two men holding his legs. He reached in for Kerrick and I noticed the window had been covered with iron bars at one time. The stumps of the bars appeared as if they had rusted right through.

Glancing around, I understood why these men had used this window. The back of the jail faced a pasture and stable for the watchmen’s horses. Since the jail marked the edge of town, there were no other buildings behind it. Just the well-used north-south trade route.

Kerrick joined us. A crash echoed, a man cursed and then the pounding drum of many boots grew louder, heading toward us.

“Belen.” Kerrick sighed the name.

“Flee or fight?” the young man asked.

Kerrick glanced at me. “Flee.”

After hopping the pasture’s fence, we raced to the woods. The herd of watchmen behind us sounded as if they would tread on my heels at any moment. The last remnants of the drowning sickness impeded my breathing and I gasped for air. For a second, I marveled that Fawn had lived as long as she had.

When we reached the edge of the forest, Kerrick shouted, “Become one with nature, gentlemen. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point.” He snatched my hand.

Kerrick led me through the dark woods, but my passage sounded loud compared to his. However, my stumbling noises became undetectable when the watchmen chasing us burst into the woods. The cracks of breaking branches and crunching leaves dominated.

They soon settled and moved with care, pausing every couple of minutes to listen for us. Holding their lanterns high, they spread into a line. I counted twenty points of light. Kerrick stopped when they did, but our progress remained agonizingly slow. I feared my recapture was imminent unless we encountered a Death Lily first and it consumed us. I shuddered at the thought. I’d rather go to the guillotine than be snatched by a man-eating plant.

“There they are,” a voice called.

I froze, but Kerrick seized my shoulders, ordered me to stay quiet and flung us to the ground. We rolled through the underbrush. A strange vibration pulsed through my body. The sounds of pursuit approached. Convinced they would trample us, I clung to him as my world spun. We halted with me flat on my back.

Kerrick covered me from view. He kept most of his weight on his elbows. He peered to our right. Shadows bounced as boots stepped near us. A few watchmen came within inches.

My throat itched with the need to cough. I suppressed the overwhelming desire to squirm, to yell, to scratch. Then the rustling of leaves and tread of boots faded. I relaxed, but Kerrick kept his protective position.

“Once they realize they lost us, they will come back,” he said.

So I remained still despite the cold dampness from the recent rains soaking into my clothes. Despite Kerrick’s warm body pressed against mine. Despite his intoxicating scent tickling my nose. He smelled of living green, moist earth and spring sunshine. Two of the three made sense, since leaves and dirt covered his clothes as well as mine. I couldn’t explain the sunshine. The fall season was in full swing. I suspected my lack of sleep played a role in altering my senses.

To distract myself from my uncomfortable position and his closeness, I watched the moon descend through the trees. It would set soon, leaving us in total darkness for a few hours.

As Kerrick had predicted, the watchmen returned. Light swept dangerously close. Footsteps crunched nearby. My heart thumped so loud, I swore it would give us away. And just when I wanted to scream, they were gone.

We waited for a while, listening for many nerve-racking minutes … hours … days. Or so it seemed. Finally, Kerrick stood and pulled me to my feet. I swayed. Icy air clawed at my skin through my wet clothes.

He scanned the sky. “We need to put as much distance between us and Jaxton before sunrise,” he said. “Can you keep up?”

I drew in a deep breath, testing my lungs. The drowning sickness had finally gone. “Yes.”

“Good.” He took my hand.

A tingle spread up my arm. I debated breaking his hold, but Kerrick moved through the forest with confidence. Once the moon set, the trail disappeared. Kerrick slowed our pace, but otherwise he continued on as if he could see in the dark, leaving me stumbling in his wake.

By the time the sun rose, I had lost all sense of direction, I was frozen and exhausted. Trusting this stranger seemed like a good idea in the middle of the night, but in the light of day, I questioned my judgment. What would stop Kerrick from turning me in for the bounty after I healed his friend? Nothing. His promise not to hurt me hadn’t included his accomplices. Still, for now, my head remained attached to my shoulders. A positive thing. I decided to stay alert and stick to my own survival instincts—taking it one problem at a time.

As daylight lit the red, yellow and orange colors of the forest, Kerrick increased his pace. I dug in my heels and tried to extricate my hand from his, but he wouldn’t let go.

Stopping to glance at me in annoyance, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

“I need to rest. Healers are not indestructible. If I’m too weak, I won’t be able to cure your friend.”

While he considered, I studied him. The color of his eyes matched the forest—russet with flecks of gold, orange and maroon. Blond streaks shot through his light brown hair. Most of his shoulder-length locks had escaped a leather tie. He was five inches taller than my own five-foot-eight-inch height. And I guessed he was five to ten years older than me.

“It’s too dangerous to be out in the open. We’re not far from the rendezvous point,” he said.

“How long?”

“Another hour. Maybe two. If you’d like, I can carry you.”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

He quirked a smile at my quick reply, causing his sharp features to soften just a bit. Some women might think him pleasing to the eye in a rugged way. Four thick scars—two on each side of his neck appeared to be bite marks from some beast.

As he pulled me along, I wondered what animal had had its teeth around Kerrick’s throat. The ufa were reported to be thriving and breeding like rabbits. Feeding off the plague victims’ dead bodies, the large carnivore possessed the strength and pointed canines to rip open a man’s throat. Packs of them lived in the southern foothills of the Nine Mountains.

After another hour of hiking, I lost all feeling in my feet. I stumbled. Kerrick grabbed my arm, preventing me from falling.

“Another two miles,” he said.

“Just … give me … a minute,” I puffed while he didn’t have the decency to even appear winded. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No.” He gazed at the surrounding forest. “In the past two years, I’ve walked thousands of miles, searching for a healer.”

“No horses?”

“No. They’re too big to hide.” Seeing my confusion, he added, “We didn’t want anyone to know about our mission. Healers are skittish.”

“Most prey are.”

“True.”

“How many healers did you find in those two years?” I asked.

He met my gaze. “One.”

My heart twisted. “But you heard of others. Right?”

“Yes. Pattric of Tobory, Drina of Zainsk, Fredek of Vyg and Tara of Pomyt.”

Tara had been my mentor. I had lost track of her whereabouts during the awful plague years. “And?” I dreaded the answer.

“Executed before we could reach them.”

Even though I’d braced for it, the news slammed into me. I sank to the ground and covered my face with my hands. My little delusion that the healers had been holed up together burst. They hadn’t deserved their fate. Grief rolled through me, jamming at the base of my throat.

When the waves settled, I asked, “Anyone else?”

“Just you.”

“How did you find me?”

“Later. We need to keep moving. It’s not far.” He pulled me to my feet.

In a daze, I followed him. My hands and feet were numb. It was a shame I couldn’t say the same for my heart. There hadn’t been many healers before the plague—about a hundred. When my family had learned that Tara agreed to take me in as her student, we’d all been excited. My tattooing ceremony had been the best moment of my life.

Kerrick’s voice jerked me from my memories.

“In here,” he said, gesturing to a narrow opening between two oversize boulders.

I glanced around. The stones were part of a larger rock fall, resting at the base of a steep cliff.

Kerrick grabbed my wrist, tugging me along as he squeezed through the gap. Probably afraid he’d lose me. I guess I couldn’t blame him. If I had been searching so long, I’d be extra-protective, as well.

We entered a dark cave. The wet smell of limestone mixed with the acrid odor of bat droppings. Lovely. Kerrick paused to let our eyes adjust. After a few minutes, I noticed a yellow glow coming from our left. He turned in that direction and soon we arrived at a small chamber.

A campfire burned in the center of a ring of stones. The two leg-holders from last night’s rescue sat beside it. They scrambled to their feet with wide smiles when they noticed us.

“Loren, why didn’t you post a guard?” Kerrick asked the man on our right.

The men exchanged a glance.

“I did,” Loren said.

Kerrick flung me at him. “Watch her. Quain, you’re with me.” He pulled his sword and left with Quain right behind him.

In the tense silence, Loren studied me. “I’m watching. Are you going to do any tricks?”

I searched his expression, gauging if he was serious or not. “I can juggle.”

Interest flared in his blue eyes. “How many balls?”

“Five.”

“Impressive. Anything else?”

“Six scarves, but it can’t be windy. And three daggers.”

“Ohh. That would be something to see. Too bad Kerrick would never allow it.”

“Why not?”

“You might cut yourself.”

“So? I’m a healer.”

“Exactly. You’re the last one. From now on, our sole purpose is to protect you.”

The last one. Loren’s words sliced through me. Hard enough to be a healer, but to be the sole survivor increased the pressure and the fear. At least these men appeared to be safeguarding me. After all, they had rescued me from certain death. Loren’s pleasant expression seemed genuine. He was older than Kerrick. Maybe thirty-five. His black hair had been cut so short, the strands stood straight up.

“What happens after I heal your friend?” I asked.

“You’ll be a hero,” he said.




CHAPTER 3


“Everyone hates healers, so why would healing your friend make me a hero?” I asked Loren.

“We don’t hate you. And when he’s better, he’s going to—”

Loud voices interrupted him. Kerrick and Quain returned with the young man who had pulled me from the jail between them. The boy’s long brown hair hung in his eyes, but it didn’t cover his chagrined expression.

“What happened?” Loren asked.

“He fell asleep,” Kerrick said. “Why would you assign him first shift?”

“He offered.”

“He’s sixteen, Loren. He’s been awake all night.”

“And so have we.”

“Yet you were still awake when I arrived. Why’s that?” Kerrick’s flat tone was scarier than if he’d been shouting.

“We couldn’t sleep. We were concerned about you and the healer,” Loren said.

“So was I,” the young man said.

“Yet you were fast asleep,” Kerrick said. “You’re growing, Flea. Don’t volunteer for the first shift until you’re twenty. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kerrick glanced around the chamber. “Has Belen arrived?”

“No,” Quain answered. He swept a hand over his bald head as if he could smooth away the lines of worry etched into his brow. He had no visible weapons, yet Kerrick had taken him as backup. Perhaps the thick muscles barreled around his chest, shoulders and upper arms were all the weapons he needed. I guessed he was close to my age.

“Everyone get a few hours’ sleep. Flea, make sure our … guest is comfortable. I’ll stand guard,” Kerrick said. He strode from the room without waiting to see if his orders were obeyed.

Flea shot me a lopsided grin. Between the locks of unkempt hair, humor sparked in his light green eyes. “Would you like to sleep on the right or left side of the fire, ma’am?” he asked.

“There’s no need for formalities. My name’s Avry.” I stood near the fire, letting my hands and feet soak in the warmth.

“Oh, I know,” Flea said. “Avry of Kazan Realm. We’ve been looking for you for ages.”

The three men stared at me. “Should I juggle now?” I asked Loren.

He laughed, breaking the awkwardness. “Sorry, but it’s hard to believe that we caught up to you. That you’re standing here. With us. We’ve been following your, ah, adventures for almost a year.”

I hadn’t suspected. That alarmed me. “How?”

“Rumors, mostly,” Quain said. “We’d hear about a child being healed in various towns across the Fifteen Realms. By the time we’d arrived, you were gone. A couple of times you were spotted leaving so we at least had a direction to follow. Sometimes we just had to guess which way you’d go.”

“Pure luck we were in Jaxton when you were arrested,” Flea said.

“Not really,” Loren said. “Kerrick started catching on to her pattern a few months ago.”

“My pattern?”

“Heading generally northwest, and stopping only in the bigger settlements. You’d last about … six, maybe eight weeks before healing a child and taking off.” Loren settled on his bedroll next to the fire.

When I thought about it, he was right. A zing of fear traveled up my spine. If I survived this mission, I would have to be extra-vigilant.

“We’re really surprised you weren’t caught by the locals sooner,” Quain said. He unrolled his blankets.

“Why?” I turned my back to the flames, hoping to dry my damp clothes.

“We had a list of healers,” Loren said. “But by the time we learned of their location, they’d been executed. We always heard the same gossip. That they had been caught by doing something stupid.”

“Like healing a child,” I said. My obvious weakness. Although I’d tried hard to avoid it by keeping to myself and limiting how much time I spent with other people.

“Not that at all.” Flea fussed with his bedroll. “You’re the only one who was smart enough to take off after you healed a kid. The other healers figured the grateful person or parent wouldn’t turn them in. They didn’t bother to disguise themselves like you, either.”

I tucked a short strand of blond hair behind my ear. Some disguise. I cut my hair and dyed it. I still used my own name. It was amazing I hadn’t been arrested sooner. But then I remembered what Loren had said. “How did you get a list of healers?”

He shrugged. “Kerrick had it. He probably raided one of the old town halls for the records. Didn’t the healers have a guild before?”

Before always meant pre-plague. “Yes.” But my name shouldn’t have been on it.

My apprenticeship with Tara had started when I turned sixteen—mere months before the first outbreak. Once the sickness raced across the Realms, she stopped teaching me. Instead of earning my membership in the Guild, I returned to Lekas, my home town in Kazan, to find my family gone. They were either dead or had left. None of the living could tell me. And when the rumors about the healers grew into accusations and turned into executions, no one wished to talk. I had spent my seventeenth birthday hiding in a mud puddle as my neighbors and former friends hunted for me. After three years with no word about my family, I’d lost all hope of ever finding them or even knowing what happened to them.

I glanced around the small cavern. A couple of leather rucksacks slumped in a corner, but other than stone walls and a fist-size opening in the ceiling high above our heads, there was nothing else.

At least the cave was warm and dry. However, I eyed the hard ground with dread, longing for my knapsack. It had held my thin bedroll, money, some travel rations and my cloak.

Flea finished setting up his blankets. But instead of settling in, he swept an arm out. “Ma’am, uh, Avry, your bed awaits.”

I jerked in surprise. “No need to give up your—”

“Kerrick said to make you comfortable. If I don’t, he’ll kill me. Besides—” he flashed me that lopsided grin again “—these are Kerrick’s.”

“Won’t he be mad?” From the way his men acted, he appeared to be someone you don’t want to be angry with you.

“No,” Quain said. “There is always one of us on watch. When he wakes me to take my turn, he’ll just sleep in mine.”

Loren hooked a thumb at the packs in the corner. “He can also use Belen’s.”

The men all sobered at the name.

“He’s the one who provided the distraction last night,” I said, guessing.

“Yeah,” Flea said. His shoulders drooped and he hung his head so his hair covered his eyes. “He probably got lost or something.”

“Belen doesn’t get lost,” Quain said. “He’s probably leading the town watchman on a merry chase.”

“How long will we wait for him?” I asked Quain.

“Not long.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re more important than him. Hell, to Kerrick you’re more important than all of us, and the longer we stay here, the greater the danger.”

As I lay on Kerrick’s bedroll, I breathed in his scent. That same mix of spring sunshine and living green. It felt as if the earth embraced me in her warmth. I cuddled deep into the blankets, letting the shock of being the last healer fade into an ache under my heart. And allowing all the questions I had for Kerrick and his men to be pushed aside for now.

A shout woke me from a deep sleep. I felt safe, which was odd considering my circumstances. The fire had died to embers and the other bedrolls were empty. Alarmed, I jumped to my feet. Voices yelled and echoed from the only direction of escape. I was trapped.

As the noise level increased, I backed away until I stood at the far wall. Something large and dark blocked the narrow entrance. If I could, I would have climbed the rough wall. My first impression was that an angry bear had returned to his cave and he wasn’t happy to find it occupied. The second and more accurate but no less terrifying was a giant man who looked like he could wrestle a bear one-handed and win.

When he spotted me … not quite cowering against the far wall, he grinned.

“There you are,” he said in a reasonable tone. He crossed the cavern in two strides and held out his hand. “Belen of Alga.” Kerrick and his men followed behind him. All sported smiles.

As I shook Belen’s oversize paw, er, hand, I noted he was from Kerrick’s Realm. “Avry.”

“Nice to meet you finally. Here.” He thrust my knapsack into my hands. “I hope this is yours. Otherwise, I went to a lot of trouble for nothing.”

“You shouldn’t have risked going back for her pack,” Kerrick said.

Belen frowned at him. “Nonsense. She needs her things.” He gestured. “Winter’s coming and she doesn’t even have a cloak. You probably didn’t even think to give her yours.”

“I was a little busy saving her life.”

Loren and Quain hid their amusement at Kerrick’s annoyed and slightly peevish tone.

“Well, she’s going to need what little she has if we’re going to travel through the Nine Mountains before the first blizzard.”

I clutched my pack to my chest. “The Nine Mountains? Why?” The plague had destroyed all form of organized government in the Fifteen Realms. It had taken a couple years before the survivors had grouped together to form the small clusters we had now. Law in Realms like Kazan and most others had ceased to be.

Too busy dodging bounty hunters, I hadn’t paid attention to our current political situation, but even I’d heard that marauders had settled into the foothills of the Nine Mountains. Gangs who warred with one another and set their own rules to suit themselves. And if you managed to avoid them, the ufa packs would hunt you down.

“Didn’t he tell you?” Belen jerked a thumb at Kerrick.

“No time last night for idle chat,” Kerrick snapped. “Our sick friend is on the other side of the Nine Mountains.”

It would take us more than two months to reach him. “How sick? He might not last.”

“He’s been encased in a magical stasis.”

Interesting. There weren’t that many magicians left. I wondered how long it took Kerrick to find one. “By a life magician?”

“No. A death magician.”

Even rarer. I considered. “How bad is your friend? If he’s on the edge of dying, I won’t be able to help him.”

“He’s pretty healthy. Sepp was able to pause his life force just after he began the second stage.”

The second stage? Dread wrapped around me. Had the plague returned? As far as I heard, there hadn’t been any more victims in two years. Then I remembered Kerrick had been searching for me at least that long.

“He has the plague. Doesn’t he?” I asked.

“Yes,” Belen said. “We know you can heal him. With the whole world dying, how could a hundred of you save six million of them? You couldn’t. The Healer’s Guild sent that missive so they could organize their healers, set up a response based on need, but that’s all in the past, Avry. It’s only one sick man.”

“But—”

Kerrick interrupted, “Belen, do you need to rest?”

“No, sir.”

“Gentlemen, prepare to go,” Kerrick said.

His men scrambled to pack. I checked my knapsack. All my belongings remained inside. I removed my cloak, draping it around my shoulders.

Should I tell them the real truth about the plague? They had saved me from the guillotine and I owed them my life. They seemed receptive to reason, unlike all the other survivors I’d encountered, who, at the mere mention of a healer, spat in the ground and refused to acknowledge the truth. I’d almost been caught a number of times defending healers so I’d stopped trying.

However, Belen was right. I could heal their friend of the plague, but then I couldn’t heal myself.

What they asked of me would be essentially trading one death—swift and certain—for another—slow, painful and just as certain.

I decided to wait and learn who their friend was. Perhaps he would be like Fawn, worth my life to save. Hard to imagine. Children deserved to be saved. They hadn’t lived, hadn’t made bad choices and hadn’t had time to harm others. That couldn’t be said of a grown man, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Kerrick set a quick pace through the forest, heading north. Rays of the late-afternoon sun pierced the tree canopy, leaving pools of shadows on the ground. The crisp air smelled clean and fresh.

We walked in a single line. I stayed behind Belen, and Flea trotted at my heels like an overeager puppy. No one said a word. Leaves crunched under my boots, drowning out the slight noise the others made. The men held their weapons ready as if expecting an ambush at any moment. Kerrick and Belen held swords, Loren kept an arrow notched in his bow, Quain palmed a nasty curved dagger and even Flea brandished a switchblade.

Traveling through the Fifteen Realms was difficult, if not impossible, for small groups. When I moved to a new town, I’d try to hook up with a pilgrimage—a caravan of people searching for lost friends and relatives, collecting needed items from abandoned houses and burying any dead bodies left behind. Even well armed, a pilgrimage still kept to the major roads between Realms.

So it wasn’t a surprise that in the middle of the forest, we encountered no one. No Death or Peace Lilys grew near our path, either. Odd that the gigantic flowers were nowhere to be seen. With the lack of manpower to cull them, they had spread like weeds everywhere, and had invaded farm fields, adding to the survivors’ struggle to feed ourselves.

Unused to the pace, I tired after a few hours. We stopped a couple times to eat, but it was always in silence and didn’t last long. My legs ached and eventually all I could focus on was Belen’s broad back.

The sun set and the moon rose. It had climbed to the top of the sky when I reached my limit. Stumbling, I tripped over my own feet and sprawled among the colorful leaves.

Before I could push up to my elbows, Belen scooped me into his arms. He carried me like a baby despite my protests, claiming I weighed nothing. Exhausted, I dozed in his arms.

By dawn, I had reenergized. That was when I felt his injury. I squirmed from his arms and pulled his right sleeve up to his elbow.

“It’s nothing,” he said, trying to pull the fabric down and cover the six-inch-long gash in his forearm before Kerrick and the others could see.

I stopped him with a stern look, then traced the wound with a finger as magic stirred to life in my core. The cut was deep and dirty—borderline infected. Belen kept his face neutral, although I knew my rough examination had to hurt like crazy. Impressive.

“Belen?” Kerrick asked.

“It’s just a cut I got stirring up the town watch the other night. Nothing to worry about.”

“It’s going to get infected if it’s not taken care of,” I said.

“Can it wait until we find shelter?” Kerrick asked me.

“I can heal him now. It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s not what I asked you. Can it wait or not?”

“How long?”

“A few hours.”

No sense arguing with him. “It can wait.”

There was really no reason to wait. I wouldn’t let Belen carry me, but I rested my hand on the crook of his right arm. As we walked, I let the magic curl around his forearm, healing his wound as it transferred to me. The cut throbbed and stung as blood soaked my sleeve.

By the time we arrived at another cave to rest for the afternoon, Belen’s injury had disappeared. Loren, Quain and Flea gathered around him, exclaiming over his smooth skin.

“There’s not even a scar!” Flea hopped around despite having walked for the past twenty hours. I suspected this behavior was linked to his name.

Kerrick, though, strode over to me and yanked my sleeve up, exposing the half-healed gash. I hissed as he jabbed it with a finger.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” he demanded.

“There was no reason—”

“You don’t make those decisions,” he said. A fire burned in his gaze. “I do.”

“But—”

He squeezed my arm. I yelped.

“No arguments. You follow my orders. Understand?”

Silence blanketed the cavern as everyone stared at us.

“I understand.” And I did, but that didn’t mean I would obey him like one of his gentlemen.

“Good.” He gazed at his men. “Standard watch schedule.”

Once Kerrick left the cave, Flea bounded over to me. “Look at that! It’s the same size and shape as Belen’s was.”

Interesting how the men were more relaxed when Kerrick wasn’t around.

“How long until it heals?” Belen inspected the cut as if my arm would break at the slightest touch. Concern in his brown eyes.

“About two days for it to fade into a pale scar.”

Flea whooped and Quain looked impressed.

“You didn’t need to heal me,” Belen said. “It was just a minor cut.”

I pulled my arm from Belen. “And you didn’t need to risk capture by retrieving my knapsack. Consider it my way of saying thanks.”

Loren met my gaze with an amused smile.

“Better than juggling knives?” I asked him.

“I’d have to see you juggle the knives first,” he said.

“Gentlemen, your knives.” I held out my hands.

After a brief hesitation, Loren, Quain and Flea all provided me with a leather-handled dagger. Perfect.

“When Kerrick catches you, I’ll make sure to shed a few tears at your funerals,” Belen said. He shook his head as if distancing himself from the whole thing.

I tested the weight of each knife. My older brother, Criss, had taught me how to juggle. First with scarves, then balls, and then wooden sticks before he’d let me throw anything sharp. A pang of sadness touched my chest as I juggled the daggers. The firelight reflected off the silver blades as they twirled in the air. Flea enjoyed the show, laughing and begging to be taught when I finished.

“Not bad,” Loren said. “But most anyone can learn how to juggle. No one else can heal.”

Later that night we settled next to the fire. The men moved about in an easy routine, hardly speaking as they cooked the rabbits Loren had shot with his bow.

“Have you been doing this every night for two years?” I asked them.

Loren and Quain exchanged a glance with Belen.

“Not quite,” Belen said. “Kerrick and I started searching for a healer right after the magician encased our friend. Six months in, we encountered those two monkeys in Tobory.” He jabbed a thick finger at Loren and Quain. “Getting the snot beat out of them.” Belen chuckled. It was a deep rumbling sound.

Quain jumped to their defense. “We were outnumbered!”

“Didn’t stop you from rushing that whor—” Belen shot me a look. “That brothel.”

“It’s not a brothel when the girls are forced to be there,” Loren said with a quiet intensity.

Another reminder of our world gone mad. Not all survivors desired a return to normal. Some took full advantage of the depleted security and turned small towns into their own playgrounds.

“What happened?” I asked.

“We lent a hand,” Belen said. “Helped clean out that nest of nasties, got the town back on track and picked up those two for our trouble.”

“We’re returning the favor,” Loren said.

“Uh-huh.” Belen stretched out on his blankets, sighed and was soon snoring.

Considering how long he’d been awake, it was amazing he’d lasted that long.

My bedroll was close to Flea’s. He had been practicing the first step in learning how to juggle, tossing a stone from one hand to another. Flea mastered the motion of throwing the rock up to his eye level and letting it drop down to his other hand, making a path through the air like an inverted V while keeping both hands near his waist. I showed him the next step. Same motion, but using two rocks—trickier.

After a few tries, he started to get it. “That’s it, Flea. When the first stone is at the tip of the V, you throw the second.” I made encouraging noises.

He worked a while longer, then flopped back onto his blankets. “It’s too hard.”

Flea reminded me of my younger sister, Noelle. She would give up right away if a task proved too difficult. I wondered if she had gotten the plague and died just as quick.

No one who contracted the disease survived. Except those very first people the healers cured before they in turn died. Back when we hadn’t known it would become a plague. There had been enough sanity for the Healer’s Guild to send out notice to their members not to heal anyone who had those symptoms. Not even if there were a couple healers to share energy. It had been a logical decision. There were more sicknesses than healers. And it made sense to heal the ones we could. But that notice had been what condemned us all to death. Or rather, the wording of that missive. It hadn’t clearly stated that a healer would die if he helped a plague victim. It had said, “Success was unlikely at this time.”

I suppressed those dark thoughts, concentrating instead on the positive. Being with these men had renewed my interest in life. They’d been traveling throughout the Fifteen Realms, perhaps they’d heard of my family. Except Loren and Quain had also fallen asleep. Only Flea stared morosely at the cave’s ceiling.

“Don’t fret,” I said. “With more practice, you’ll be juggling in no time.”

He groaned. “That’s what those guys say all the time. Practice, practice, practice. It’s boring!”

I hid my smile. “You’re right.”

He sat up. “I am?”

“It’s very boring. Unfortunately, it’s necessary.”

Groaning, he plopped back onto his pillow. He waved a listless hand. “You can stop the lecture. I’ve got four fathers. I don’t need a mother.”

I gasped in mock horror. “You’re right. I’m sounding like my mother! I promise never to do it again.”

“Really?” Flea squinted at me.

“No. Sorry. An overdeveloped nurturing instinct comes with being a healer.”

He shrugged. “Oh, well. I guess everyone has their faults.”

“True.”

He pushed up to an elbow and looked at me for a moment. “Do you like being a healer? That cut you took from Belen had to hurt.”

“It does, but for less time than it would have hurt him.” Plus there was the satisfaction of helping another.

Flea huffed. “I don’t think Belen feels pain. I kicked him hard in the shins one time and he didn’t even blink.”

“Why did you kick him?”

“He wouldn’t let me go.” Flea’s eyelids drooped and he yawned.

I sensed a longer story, but I stifled my curiosity. Instead, I gently pushed him down and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

Flea gave me a sleepy half smile and said, “Belen won’t let you go, either.”

It was an odd statement and he noticed my concern.

“Not like that … Once you heal Prince Ryne, you won’t want to go.”

I jerked wide awake. “Prince Ryne of Ivdel Realm? He’s your friend? The one who’s sick?”

“Yeah, he—”

“Flea, go to sleep,” Kerrick said from behind me.

Flea grimaced an oops and turned onto his side.

Oops was putting it mildly. I gathered my belongings.

“What are you doing?” Kerrick asked. His voice low and deadly.

“Leaving.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking. I’m going.” I rolled up my thin mat and stuffed it into my knapsack.

“No, you’re not.”

Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I faced him. “There is no reason for me to stay. Go find another healer.”

“No.”

It was like talking to the rock wall. I raised my voice. “Let me make this perfectly clear. I will not heal Prince Ryne. Nothing you do or say will change my mind.”

The men stirred awake. Fury sparked in Kerrick’s eyes.

“Easy, Kerrick,” Belen said, sitting up.

“You will heal him.” Kerrick’s dangerous tone warned me not to argue, but I wouldn’t back down.

“Never.”

“That’s enough, Avry.” Belen stood. “We can discuss this in the morning.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” I said. “I’m not healing him. In fact, I’m glad he’s locked in stasis where he can’t hurt anyone ever again. The only thing that would make me happier is his death.”

I’d gone too far. With a strangled cry, Kerrick lost his temper. Belen lunged toward Kerrick and I raised an arm to block Kerrick’s strike, but we were both too slow. Kerrick backhanded me across my cheek. The force of the blow sent me to the ground.




CHAPTER 4


My cheek stung and throbbed. I remained on the floor of the cave. Belen stood between me and Kerrick.

“… temper in check. She’s a sweet girl,” Belen said.

“She’s a healer, Belen. And no longer a girl. Healing Ryne is all I care about. All you should care about, as well. You know—”

“Yes, I know what’s at stake.” Belen spat the words. “But if you raise your hand to her again, I’ll rip your arm from its socket.”

Wow. I tilted my head to catch Kerrick’s expression.

A flicker of surprise flashed across his flat gaze. “Make sure she keeps her opinions of Prince Ryne to herself and I won’t have to.” Kerrick glanced at me.

I met his cold gaze and realized I meant nothing to him. Unlike Belen, Kerrick must know I wouldn’t survive healing Ryne and he didn’t care.

“You will heal Ryne,” he said before turning away. “Loren, your watch.”

Loren shot to his feet. “Yes, sir.” He dashed from the cavern. And I wished I could follow him.

Belen knelt next to me. He pressed a wet cloth to my cheek. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize for him,” I said, leaning into the cool comfort of the cloth. I glanced around. By the rigid way they lay under their covers, I knew Flea and Quain pretended to be asleep. Kerrick shucked off his boots and settled into Loren’s spot, ignoring us.

Belen played nursemaid, fetching me a drink of water and setting up my bedroll. I liked him. Too bad, I wouldn’t be staying with them for long.

I waited for an opportunity to escape. It took two days. Two days of walking through the forests in silence and one night in yet another cave. A night I kept quiet and just listened to the men, nursing my bruised ego.

The second night’s stop was far from ideal since Kerrick stopped at a big echoey cavern. I suspected he knew the location of every single cavern in the forest. But I couldn’t stand being with him any longer.

“Remember when those three drunks challenged Belen to a fight?” Quain asked no one in particular during dinner and when Kerrick was out on watch.

“And Kerrick gave strict orders. No fighting or we wouldn’t be able to go near a tavern again,” Loren said.

Flea rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard this story a dozen times.”

“Only a dozen?” Belen asked. He had stretched out on his back by the fire and rested his head on his crossed arms. “For some reason those two monkeys—” he gestured to Loren and Quain “—think that story bears repeating over and over again. Perhaps it’s just an unfortunate manifestation of their low intelligence.”

Quain snorted. “Manifestation? Oh, boy, look who’s trying to impress the healer.”

“He doesn’t want us to finish the story. He’s afraid we’ll scare Avry,” Loren said, trying to draw me into the conversation.

All four of them had been overly solicitous as the bruise on my cheek swelled, turned red, and faded to a mere smudge of greenish black. I reminded myself that they hadn’t struck me. No need to hate them.

“I’m not that easy to scare,” I said. “What happened with the drunks?”

“He clapped all three of their heads together, knocking them out. Thus, no fight,” Quain said.

“Thus? Now look who’s flinging the fancy words around,” Loren said.

“Thus is not fancy,” Quain shot back.

Flea sighed elaborately. “Here we go … again.” He picked up his two rocks and practiced juggling them despite his claims of giving up the other night.

I had made sure my bedroll was close to Flea’s. While Quain and Loren launched into a debate about the fanciness of certain words, I asked Flea about his name.

Keeping his gaze on the stones, he pointed his chin over to the others. “They, ah, gave me the name. Seems it was nicer than being called a parasite.”

“What’s your given name?” I asked.

“I don’t have one. At least, not one I remember.” Flea missed a stone and muttered a curse. “I grew up on the streets, thieving to survive. I’ve been called boy, thief and other uncomplimentary words.” A flash of his lopsided smile. “How’s that for a fancy word? Uncomplimentary.”

“I’m suitably impressed,” I said.

He managed to keep the rhythm of the throws consistent for a number of exchanges before the rocks collided in midair. Another curse and he started again.

“How did you get involved with this group?” I asked.

“About a year ago, they came to my town, asking questions about healers. They were discreet, but still word gets around and the local muscle didn’t like them or me for selling information to Kerrick. Stealing secrets was one of my most lucrative abilities.”

“It almost got you killed,” Belen said.

“That time. I had a whole network of informers and these guys showed up and just blew it apart.”

“Funny, I remember it differently.” Belen tossed another log on the fire.

“You would. Your life and livelihood weren’t at stake.” Flea scratched his temple with the edge of one of his stones. “When things grew too hot, I helped them slip out of town and …” He glanced at Belen with affection, but masked it before the big man could see. “I just stayed.”

“Ha. We rescued him from the stockade before they could hang him as a traitor. And then we stopped the idiot from going back.”

Which would explain Flea’s comment about kicking Belen’s shins because he wouldn’t let go.

“So who gave him his name?” I asked.

“Kerrick,” Belen answered.

Not who I’d expect. “Why �Flea’?”

A full-out grin spread across Flea’s face. “�Cause I’m fast and hard to catch.”

“Because he’s a pest and hard to squash,” Belen said.

“Because he jumps about three feet in the air when you scare him,” Loren added.

“Because he’s annoying and makes us itch with impatience,” Quain said.

“Thanks, guys. I love you, too.” Flea made exaggerated kissing noises and patted his ass.

They threw pieces of bread and pillows at him, laughing. I realized they had formed into a tight family. Guilt at what I’d planned welled, but it shattered the moment Kerrick entered.

I bided my time, keeping awake while Loren woke Quain for his shift and Quain roused Flea for his. After Quain’s breathing settled into a deep rhythm, I crept from my covers. With one mournful look at my knapsack, I tugged my cloak around my shoulders and tiptoed away from the fire. If anyone woke, I hoped the presence of my knapsack would make them assume I had just gone to the privy—which was a stinky side cavern I hated to use.

Flea sat on the top of a large boulder a few feet away from the cave’s entrance. As soon as he spotted me, he immediately slid down the side.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in a whisper.

“Nothing. I just needed some fresh air.”

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

“Is there anyone around?” It would be a surprise if there were. Since I’d been with Kerrick and his men, I’d seen no one at all, yet they still carried their weapons at the ready.

“Not close, but there’s a group of merchants—we hope—about two miles due east of here. See the fire?” He pointed.

I squinted into the darkness. We stood on a slight rise. A tiny pinprick of orange-yellow dotted the mound of trees.

“How do you know they’re merchants?”

“Wagons loaded with goods, horses and armed guards. They could be mercenaries, but they have too much … stuff. Mercenaries usually travel lighter.”

“How do you know all this?”

Flea grinned. “Kerrick’s already checked them out and determined they’re probably harmless. We have to be more careful now. I’m sure the rumors about your rescue and our involvement have spread faster than the plague. Twenty golds is a huge sum. There are a few mercenary groups who would love to take you from us.”

Curious, I couldn’t help asking, “Can they?”

“Not many,” he said with pride. “But don’t worry, Avry. We’re too smart to walk into an ambush.”

My heart squeezed with guilt and I hesitated.

“You better get inside. If Kerrick finds you out here, I’m a goner.”

“All right.” I turned to go, but stopped. “Flea, don’t move.”

He froze. “What?”

“Kissing Spider. Hold still.” I touched the back of his neck with my hand. I found the small area between the vertebrae and shot my healing power into his spine. He arched back in silent surprise before collapsing.

Catching him, I laid him down. I arranged his limbs so he would be comfortable. My stomach twisted as I pushed a lock of hair from his eyes. Healers had a few ways to defend themselves, but we hated to use them. And some, like the one I used on Flea, needed to hit the precise location or it wouldn’t work.

I considered his size. He’d wake in two, maybe three hours. However, Belen’s watch shift would start within an hour. I needed to go. Now.

Should I head toward the merchants and hope they’d protect me?

No. Basic survival—trust no one. I ran west.

I discovered within minutes that running full speed through the forest at night wasn’t my best idea. After I wiped the dirt from my face and hands and regained my feet, I slowed my pace. It would be hard to follow my trail in the dark so I hoped Kerrick would wait until dawn.

If I was lucky, I’d have a three- or four-hour head start and wouldn’t stumble into a Death Lily. If I wasn’t, I’d have one hour at most or become plant food. I focused all my energy and concentration on putting as much distance between me and Kerrick as possible.

My luck held for once. When the sun’s rays diluted the darkness, I was able to see better and I increased my pace until I smelled smoke. Skidding to a stop, I turned in a slow circle, seeking the direction of the fire. When I found it, I crouched and crept toward the source.

It wouldn’t be good if I accidentally ran into a band of mercenaries. Better to know where they were and how many than try to guess. My progress through the underbrush was far from utter silence. However, aside from a few rustles, I managed to get close enough to see into a clearing.

I counted ten sleeping bodies around the dying fire. No horses. But one guard slumped against a tree trunk with his mouth hanging open—also asleep. Would they set two guards? I searched the surrounding woods, seeking movement. Nothing.

Satisfied, I backed away and bumped into someone. I froze as the edge of a sword touched my neck.

“Gotcha.”




CHAPTER 5


“Turn around slow,” the sword’s owner ordered me.

I obeyed. Perhaps he didn’t know who I was. Yeah, right. And perhaps this was all a dream and I would wake up in my house, surrounded by my family.

By the exultant smirk and greedy glint in his dark brown eyes, I had only the possibility that they wouldn’t kill me outright.

“Put your hands where I can see them,” he said. His sword still rested on my neck.

I held my hands out.

“Wake up!” he yelled. The shout roused the sleeping men in the clearing. “Today’s our lucky day!”

Voices and loud calls cut through the forest. Not good. As the sounds drew nearer, I stepped back in panic.

“Relax, sweetheart. The bounty for you is double if we bring you in alive.”

That stopped me. “Forty golds? Why?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. As long as Tohon pays us in full.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“There are other interested parties. I’m sure—”

Hands wrapped around the mercenary’s head and yanked. The sword’s blade nicked me as a loud snap vibrated through the air. The man fell, revealing Kerrick. A scarier sight by far.

Kerrick lunged toward me. Knocking me to the ground, we rolled through the underbrush with ease. But this time, I was aware enough to realize we shouldn’t be able to do that. When we stopped, Kerrick was once again on top, but this time he pressed his hand over my mouth.

After my head cleared from the spinning, I noticed Kerrick’s skin and clothes matched the colors of the forest floor. Exactly. Even his hair. Magic tingled inside me as he drew it from the earth, using it to camouflage us. Kerrick must be an earth magician. Which explained so much—like how we avoided all the Lilys.

We lay there for what seemed like ages. Men’s boots pounded past us. Voices called and anger over the dead mercenary rippled through the forest. My senses expanded and I felt a connection with the living essence of the forest.

To the forest, the men were invaders, a blight on a healthy organism. It knew where each irritant was located. When the men moved farther away, Kerrick yanked me to my feet. He used the forest’s aversion to keep track of the mercs and escape the area without being seen, dragging me with him.

When we were far enough away, he broke the magical connection with me. I staggered with the shock of being cut off from the soothing green. He let me fall.

I regained my feet with the intention of running away, but Kerrick grabbed my wrist. By this time, his skin and hair had returned to normal.

I said, “Thanks for the help, but you’re not going to change my mind about Prince Ryne.”

“You’d rather be handed over to Tohon of Sogra?” he asked as if I lost my senses.

“No. I’d rather be left alone.”

“Not going to happen.” He tugged me along behind him like a disobedient child.

Digging in my heels would be useless so I gathered magic and sent a blast of pain into his hand on my wrist.

Instead of dropping my arm like a normal person would, he squeezed harder and pulled me toward him. More skin contact meant more pain for him. What the hell was he doing? I increased the intensity. He dropped to his knees, but kept his hold on me.

Damn it. I focused all my strength and directed it at him. He pitched over to his side, bringing me with him. Kerrick’s muscles convulsed with the pain, but he still wouldn’t let go.

I stopped when I had exhausted my energy. We lay locked together, panting as if we both had run for miles.

“Is that all you have?” His voice rasped. “Because you’re not going to get another chance.”

I ignored his comment. “Your earth magic must have protected you or else you’d be unconscious and drooling right now.” Except I suspected that wasn’t quite true.

“I’m not letting you go. Do you understand?”

Unfortunately, I did. “You can’t force me to heal him.”

“True. However, I can make you so miserable that you’ll be happy to heal him in order to get away from me.”

Fear swirled in my heart. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me. Yet—”

“I did.” He stared at me a moment. “I’m sorry I hit you. I lost my temper. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do you really think I’d risk getting my arm torn off? Belen never makes an idle threat. And neither do I.”

Kerrick kept an iron grip on my wrist, towing me at a fast pace. I jogged to keep up and was soon winded. My failed escape attempt had drained me.

Loren joined us when we neared the cave. He shot me a hard glare. “Any trouble?” he asked Kerrick.

“Mercs—at least a dozen. She walked right into them.”

If I had the energy, I would have protested.

Loren glanced behind us. “Did they follow you?”

“Not yet, but they’ll find our trail soon.” Kerrick pulled me through the entrance and flung me down by the fire. “Get your stuff packed.”

As I gathered my things, I noticed Quain’s glowers and Flea’s hurt-puppy pouts. Belen, though, smiled, and would have come over except Kerrick intercepted him.

“No helping her,” Kerrick said.

“But—”

“That’s an order, Belen.”

Belen stared at him. “It won’t work.”

Kerrick didn’t back down. “Not your decision.”

The air thickened as the tension emanated from them. I stood and slung my knapsack over my shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, Belen. I’ll be fine.”

My bravado sounded good. Even boosted my energy a bit. But after Kerrick clamped his hand around my sore wrist, and I endured another endless quick march through the forest, I began to wonder if I had been overly optimistic.

We stopped … sometime. It took me a few moments to realize we had indeed halted for the night in a tiny clearing. Kerrick only allowed me to eat half rations before manacling my hands behind a tree. The cold metal cuffs cut deep into my wrists. I leaned against the rough bark just happy to be sitting.

The men’s voices surrounded me as I drifted into and out of sleep.

“… get sick.” Belen’s soft concern.

“… can’t, she’s a healer.” Kerrick’s dismissive bark.

I opened my mouth to educate him—healers sickened like everyone else. We just recovered faster. And if the injury was severe enough or the disease too quick, we’d die. But I pressed my lips together. Let him figure it out for himself.

The next morning, Kerrick shook my shoulders.

“I’m awake,” I said when he didn’t stop.

He rested his hands on my shoulders and gazed at me. “Will you heal Prince Ryne?”

“No.”

Kerrick didn’t say a word. He unlocked the manacles. After I gulped a few mouthfuls of bread, he reclaimed my wrist. And once again my world blurred to a smear of orange, red and yellow as I struggled to keep up with him.

That night he confiscated my cloak before securing me to a tree. Curled up on my side with my arms bent uncomfortably around the trunk, I shivered.

Voices worried over the mercenaries drawing nearer. I would have felt bad about alerting the mercs if I had the energy.

The next morning, Kerrick shook me awake. “Will you heal Prince Ryne?”

“No.”

And that was my life for … I’d no idea. Wake, answer Kerrick’s question, eat, hike all day, eat, doze, shiver and repeat.

Funny how a person’s body could adapt to the harshest of circumstances. Eventually, I wasn’t as exhausted at the end of the day. I kept up without being half dragged. But each night grew a bit cooler, and my teeth chattered a bit harder.

On the sixth—seventh?—night, I huddled close to the small fire, sucking in as much warmth as I could before Kerrick pulled me away. Flea sat next to me. He wouldn’t meet my gaze and hadn’t since I’d attempted to escape.

“Flea,” I said.

He poked the fire, refusing to acknowledge me. I touched his arm. He yelped and jerked it away.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He huffed, stabbing a stick deep into the embers. Bright orange sparks flew up.

“I didn’t hurt you before,” I tried. The neck zap didn’t cause pain, just unconsciousness. “I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Flea said. The firelight illuminated his profile. A few hairs sprang from his chin and small red pimples dotted his cheek. “You used me to escape. You pretended to like me and teach me to juggle. I was stupid to fall for it. But I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“Not listening.”

“If your friend had been anyone else …”

Flea turned his back to me, asking Belen a question. Belen lounged on the other side of him.

When Kerrick hauled me over to a tree for the night, I decided I’d heal anyone else, except Kerrick. He could die a slow and painful death—preferably while cold and shackled to a tree.

The next night, I tried again. But Flea refused to talk to me. I wondered why I bothered. Guilt, I supposed. I hadn’t deceived him, but I did use him to escape.

Belen had kept his distance all this time, but tonight he sat near me. “Why won’t you heal Prince Ryne?” he asked.

I sensed interest from everyone even though they acted casual. Kerrick stood watch, but when we camped out in the open, he stayed closer. In other words, he could hear me so I chose my words with care. “Before the plague, he … invaded Casis Realm and burned the city of Trenson to the ground, killing thousands and leaving the rest homeless.”

“That’s an ugly rumor,” Belen said. “Trenson’s priests planned to start sacrificing nonbelievers. Ryne sent his troops in to stop them and the priests started the fire.”

Hard to believe. Every major town in Casis had been ruled by a sect of priests. They wouldn’t destroy their own town or they’d have nowhere else to rule. Each sect had been very territorial.

“Give me another reason,” Belen said.

“He annexed the Nine Mountains. Stole all those natural resources from the Vyg Realm, which is his neighbor.”

“He bought the rights to the mines. Vyg’s operations were losing money so Ryne purchased the companies from the government and made them profitable. Vyg owned the land and they received twenty-five percent of the profits.”

“If that’s true, then he made them profitable by not spending any money on safety,” I said. “He lured workers from the other Realms with promises of high wages, except he sent them into dangerous mines without the proper equipment and he wouldn’t give them any time off. Hard to spend your wages when you’re not allowed to leave the mines. Not even to visit your family.”

Belen’s gaze turned inward as if he considered my words. “There was a horrible cave-in before the plague.” He took my hand. “Who did you lose?”

I jerked my hand back. “I didn’t lose anyone. I know right where they are. They can both be found under millions of pounds of rock.” I stood and planned to storm off into the woods for some privacy. But Kerrick blocked my way. I resisted the urge to punch him. Instead, I sat next to the nearest tree. He manacled my wrists.

Later that night as I curled up, I let the tears leak from my eyes. I didn’t make a sound. I wouldn’t give Kerrick the satisfaction. Or the hope.

On the tenth—twelfth?—night, something changed. Instead of one ladle, Kerrick filled my bowl with stew. He returned my cloak. The morning question remained, but he slowed his pace as we traveled through the forest. He stopped more often, listening, and he seemed distracted.

He had multiple whispered conversations with Belen, who kept glancing at me in concern.

Kerrick wouldn’t let Belen light a fire that evening. He paced. Not a good sign. Furrows creased Quain’s bald head and Flea was extra jumpy.

“What’s going on?” I asked Belen.

“Mercs closing in.”

“Sorry.”

He waved my apology away. “They would have caught up to us eventually. They started following us soon after we left Jaxton.”

I considered. “You’re trying to make me feel better.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We were overnighting in caves before I escaped, but since then, we’ve been out in the open so we don’t get trapped.”

Belen beamed with pride. “Smart girl.”

“Not smart enough to get away from Kerrick,” I mumbled.

His smile didn’t falter. “No one gets away from Kerrick in the woods.”

“Found that out already.” I glared at Kerrick, but he didn’t notice, which caused me quite a bit of alarm. Grudgingly, I admitted being Kerrick’s prisoner was my best option at this moment. Which said a lot about my life.

When Kerrick stopped pacing and crouched to place his palms on the ground, my concern increased.

“We won’t make it to the ravine in time,” Kerrick said to the others. “We can’t outrun them and they outnumber us, so we’ll have to outsmart them.” He issued orders.

We packed our belongings and headed north toward the ravine. After an hour or so, Kerrick stopped. When he let go of my wrist, I about fainted. He spoke with Belen in a low whisper and then thumped him on the back.

With a strange sense of doom, I watched Kerrick, Loren, Quain and Flea continue north, leaving Belen and me behind. Belen held out his arm. I hooked my hand around his elbow. We walked east.

Stopping hours later, Belen found a dent in a rocky hillside. I couldn’t call it a cave as it wasn’t deep enough, but it cut in just enough to protect both of us from rain or wind. However, it failed to protect us from mercenaries.

According to Belen, the plan had been for Kerrick and the others to lead the mercs north to the ravine. They could travel faster without dragging me along. Belen and I would go west and wait for them to loop back after losing the mercs.

Not a stellar plan, but one that had worked for them before. Belen filled me in on the details as we rested in the shallow shelter. It didn’t take long for the mercs to find us. A noise alerted Belen. He stood, pulled his sword and stepped in front of me, blocking me from view.

I peeked around him. Six men fanned out in front of him. All armed. The seventh hung back, and the way he crinkled his nose when he met my gaze told me why this time Kerrick’s plan hadn’t worked.

The mercs had a magic sniffer—a person who had no magic of his own, but could smell it in others. The stronger ones could track the scent, sometimes hours after, and these could also distinguish the types of magic by the aroma. Before the plague, magic sniffers had been employed to find children with magical powers.

There were eleven different types of magicians in the Fifteen Realms, and all but one of them were born with power. Young children and magic were a dangerous combination. The sooner a child started training, the better. Healing powers were the exception. It could lay dormant for years, undetectable by the sniffers. Mine hid until right after I had turned fifteen. My sister, Noelle, had cut her hand and this urge bloomed in my chest, tugging me to her as if I had been hooked by a fishing line. My mother had started searching for a teacher for me that day.

Belen waited for the mercs to make the first move. Even though they outnumbered him, they hesitated. Not surprising, considering he was a foot taller and two feet wider than their biggest man.

“Look,” the man with the red beard said to Belen. “Just give us the girl and we’ll be on our way.”

“No.”

I touched Belen’s elbow. “Take the offer. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

When he didn’t move, I stepped around him to give myself up. But Belen stopped me with his arm.

“Stay behind me,” he growled.

No arguing with him. As my heart did flips in my chest, I thought fast.

“She’s smarter than you,” Red Beard said. “Last chance.”

Belen tightened his grip on his broad sword—a two-handed weapon that he held easily with one hand.

“I don’t suppose you have a trio of knives hidden somewhere?” I asked him.

“It’s a little late for a distraction,” he said.

“Juggling isn’t the only thing I’ve learned to do with knives.”

He yanked his dagger from his belt, handed it to me, then pulled another from his boot. “That’s all I have.”

Better than none.

“I guess that’s your answer,” Red Beard said. “Don’t kill the girl,” he ordered his men.

Red Beard stepped forward to engage Belen. Two others also joined the fight. Because Belen kept me and the rocky hillside behind him, there wasn’t room for the other three, and they couldn’t grab me, either.

The fierce intensity and the speed of the fight surprised me. Belen’s calm demeanor remained, and for the first minute, it appeared he had the upper hand. Then the men switched places in one smooth move and now Belen faced three fresh opponents.

That was how they wore him down, by taking turns. I waited for an opportunity to throw my knives, thinking I’d hit their arm or shoulder, but no one would stand still long enough. I had always practiced with a stationary target. No reason not to; I’d never imagined I’d be in this situation in my lifetime.

When Belen’s swings slowed, I knew I had to help him. Even if it was accidental, killing a person went against my nature, so I aimed low and hoped for the best. My first knife pierced one man’s thigh. He yelled and staggered away from the fight. Beginner’s luck didn’t last as the second dagger sailed right by another man.

Then all I could do was watch as they harried Belen, tiring him out. I offered to surrender again, but he just growled.

Red Beard entered the fray again. He feinted left and dipped his thinner blade under Belen’s and straight into his stomach. Belen grunted as I yelled. But he kept swinging. Red Beard continued to snake past his defenses and stab his blade’s tip into Belen’s gut. Eventually, Belen collapsed.

With a cry, I knelt next to him.

Blood soaked his tunic. He thrust his sword into my hands. “Don’t give up.”

I staggered to my feet, holding the heavy blade. The men smirked until I charged, letting my fury over Belen’s injuries fuel my attack.




CHAPTER 6


The men sidestepped, avoiding the tip of Belen’s sword. I turned to charge again, but this time Red Beard knocked the heavy blade aside with his, redirecting my momentum. Belen’s weapon dragged me to the side. Red Beard moved in close and yanked the hilt from my hands.

Then he grabbed my upper arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

I resisted. “I have to heal—”

“No time. He …” Red Beard squeezed my biceps as he scanned the area.

I copied him. Glancing around, I counted five. The magic sniffer had disappeared.

“Where’s Conner?” Red Beard asked his men.

At first they exchanged confused glances, but then they realized the danger. Red Beard pulled me to where Belen lay, keeping his back to the rocks and me in front of him like a shield. His men fanned out in front of us, facing toward the woods. Red Beard sheathed his sword and drew a knife. He pressed it against my throat. Without thought, I grabbed his wrist, trying to pull the weapon away from my neck, but he rumbled a warning. Stopping my efforts, I left my hand on his arm.

“I have your girl. Come out now or I’ll slit her throat,” Red Beard called.

Nothing.

“I can collect the bounty whether she’s dead or alive.”

A rustle and then Kerrick emerged from the brush. The fabric of his tunic and pants blended in with the surrounding landscape, but his face, hands and hair remained normal. I was impressed with his level of control despite myself.

The knife cut into my skin and I hissed at the sharp sting.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Red Beard ordered.

Kerrick appeared to be unarmed. His gaze dropped to Belen’s prone form, then returned to Red Beard’s. “I have enough gold to pay you the bounty. Take it and go.”

Red Beard laughed. “She’s worth forty golds if brought in alive. I doubt—”

Moving slowly, Kerrick dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a black bag. Coins rattled within.

Red Beard sucked in a breath. “Axe, check it out.”

One of the men snatched the bag from Kerrick. He opened it and poured gold coins into his hand. The young man’s voice squeaked when he reported the count. Forty.

Red Beard tensed. “Where’s my sniffer?”

“Does it matter?” Kerrick asked.

A moment passed. “No.”

Just when I thought he would let me go, Red Beard tightened his hold on me. He laughed. “You’re a fool,” he said to Kerrick. “Now we’ll get eighty golds. Forty from you and forty from Tohon.”

Kerrick’s gaze flickered to my hand still resting on Red Beard’s—a warning. Magic grew inside me, pushing to be released, but I waited for Kerrick’s signal.

“That’s rather greedy,” he said in a conversational tone. Kerrick gestured to the young man drooling over the gold coins in his hand. “You’re not setting the proper example for your young friend here. I would never do that. Isn’t that right, Flea?”

“That’s right,” Flea called from above. We all glanced up. Flea, Quain and Loren stood on the rocks above.

“Now,” Kerrick ordered.

I sent a blast of pain into Red Beard as Flea and the monkeys jumped down. Red Beard swore. I twisted away from his knife and held on to his arm with both hands, sending in another intense wave of pain. Red Beard collapsed onto his knees. Sounds of fighting increased for a moment before dying down. By the time Red Beard slumped to the ground unconscious, the others had been … I wish I could say disarmed, but they had been killed.

I rounded on Kerrick in outrage. But he knelt next to Belen so I swallowed my accusations. All color had fled Belen’s face. His lips had turned a bluish-gray. I sank next to him and put my hand on his sweaty forehead.

“Is she safe?” he asked Kerrick.

“Yes.” As usual, Kerrick showed no emotion.

Belen sighed wetly.

“No,” I said. “I’m not safe, Belen. Who is going to tear Kerrick’s arm off if he hits me again? Come on,” I urged. “Stay with us.”

Kerrick met my gaze. “Can you heal him?”

“I don’t know. I need to examine the wounds.”

He shot to his feet. “Gentlemen, we need a litter. Now.”

The others had been hanging back, but they surged into action. I held Belen’s hand. My magic swelled and pressed to be released, but I kept it in check. If he was savable, I would need complete concentration.

Faster than I thought possible, they constructed a litter. Rolling Belen onto the lattice of branches, Loren and Quain pulled the big man. We didn’t go far. Kerrick knew of a cave system—of course.

The men made torches, but maneuvering the litter through the tight passages of the cave slowed our progress. I kept talking to Belen, encouraging him to keep awake and stay focused. When we reached a cavern that met Kerrick’s approval, I ordered the others to build a fire and heat water. I didn’t really need the water, but it gave them all something to do. Except Kerrick; he hovered over my shoulder, providing light.

I yanked Belen’s shirt up. His stomach resembled a ball after a dog chewed on it. It was amazing Belen had lasted this long. The rank odor of blood, stomach acid and feces wafted off of him. Kerrick stifled a cough.

Lightly rubbing my hand over the wounds, I let my power seek how deep his injuries were. Deep. His intestines had been damaged, his stomach torn. If I healed him, there was more than a good chance I wouldn’t live through it.

I settled back on my heels, considering.

“Well?” Kerrick asked.

I turned and looked at him. He might argue and disagree with Belen, but I knew Kerrick cared for his friend.

“Whose life is more important? Belen’s or Prince Ryne’s?”

His expression hardened. “Why are you asking?”

“Because if I heal Belen I may not survive and you’ll have to find another healer for Prince Ryne.”

Understanding brought pain. I stared at Kerrick, knowing I was being cruel to ask him to choose between them, but not caring.

“You might not survive? What are the odds?” he asked.

“I’d give myself a fifty percent chance of living.” More like ten percent, but I wanted Kerrick to choose.

I waited as a range of emotions flashed. He had such good control, no wonder he exploded when he lost his temper. While he weighed the risks, I sent my magic into Belen’s wounds, flooding them. Yet I kept my gaze on Kerrick.

His decision hurt him deeply. “Don’t heal Belen,” he said in a low voice. “It’s too risky.”

Wow. I hadn’t expected that. I thought for sure he’d choose Belen over Ryne. I drew my magic back inside me.

“Go,” Kerrick ordered. “I’ll stay with him until …” His voice broke.

I left quickly. Pain stabbed deep into my stomach, blood ran down, soaking my waistband. I made it to the small fire before I collapsed. My muscles felt as if they’d been shredded and I couldn’t breathe. Now I know why Tara never talked about the Realm wars, and when she healed the warriors near the border. It was an experience like no other.

The pain increased as acid leaked from my pierced stomach and burned my flesh. My magic fought to heal the damage, but it wasn’t fast enough. There would be no recovery from this one. I had no regrets. Belen deserved to live.

Shouts. Curses. A buzz of noise. Flea beside me. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear a word he said. The edges of my vision blurred. Black and white spots swirled, turning the world into a chaotic snowstorm. I reached out blindly, clasped a warm hand, faded from life and into peace.

Well, that was what was supposed to happen. Waking in the blissful afterlife, joining all my loved ones who had died before me. Except an annoying, distracting tug kept pulling and yanking. Pain lingered in that direction. Hurt and anger and harsh words waited on that side. I resisted, but damn it all to hell, I wasn’t strong enough.

When I woke, I thought I had overcome the pull and stayed in the afterlife. Whiteness billowed over me in soft waves. My body was cushioned and cocooned in warmth. I stretched my legs and then tried to raise my arms, but my left arm wouldn’t budge. Rolling over, I encountered a number of very unpleasant realities.

I was alive. I was in a room. I was naked except for a bloodstained bandage wrapped tight around my stomach. Kerrick lay beside me. And his hand trapped mine.

Kill. Me. Now.

The only saving grace—he was asleep. I glanced around, searching for my clothes. No luck. Figures. Hiding them was an excellent way to prevent me from running away.

I studied him, wondering if I would wake him if I tried to free my hand. Asleep, he looked four or five years younger—around twenty-five or twenty-six. The harsh lines were gone. His nose was a little too hawklike for my taste, but it worked well with his sharp chin. His eyebrows were on the thicker side, but at least they were smooth and not creased together, which they did every time he looked at me. Plus they matched his long eyelashes.

I remembered my little brother, Allyn, had appeared so innocent and angelic when he slept—similar to Kerrick. It must be a survival tactic. If Allyn hadn’t looked so sweet, we would have killed him while he slept. He had been pure evil when he was awake—similar to Kerrick.

Not pure evil, but close. At least as far as my brother was concerned. Kerrick, on the other hand—pure evil.

Thinking of my brother, I smiled. Allyn had a rare gift of talking his way out of trouble. I dearly hoped he had survived the plague along with Noelle and my mother. I wish I knew where they were. A wave of loneliness rolled through me. As I told Belen, I knew right where my older brother, Criss, and Father were—buried under a million pounds of rock. At least they died quick. Unlike the plague victims. Some of them took two weeks to succumb. Fourteen days of pain and the knowledge that their life would end.

Jerking my thoughts back to my present problems, I decided to extract my hand from Kerrick’s. He woke the instant I moved my fingers.

I froze, waiting for his anger. I had disobeyed his order. I almost died healing Belen.

He studied me and I wanted to pull the covers over my head. After all, someone had to remove my clothing. When he moved, I flinched, causing him to pause for a moment.

Why wasn’t he yelling at me? The anticipation was worse than his fury.

But he sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me. He didn’t have a shirt on or an ounce of fat—just lean, hard muscles. At least he wore pants.

Without saying a word, he left my room. I stared at the closed door in shock. I expected a lecture. I expected punishment for my actions.

Not one to let an opportunity pass me by, I slid out of bed and searched for my clothes or any piece of clothing. At this point I’d wear whatever I could find. Nothing. I wrapped the sheet around me and tested the window. The shutters had been latched, but they opened without trouble. My room was on the second floor, facing a forest. Perfect, I could climb down the drainpipe. In a sheet? I laughed. It could be worse.

Someone knocked on my door. I closed the shutters and dove into bed just as a woman with pure white hair bustled into my room.

“Glory be. Mr. Kerrick was right. So happy to see you awake. Oh, you had us all so worried, you did.” She carried a bundle in her arms. Dropping it on the bed she hustled over to the windows and flung open the shutters. “Get dressed and I’ll fetch you some vittles. You must be starved. A skinny little thing like you, going days without food.” She tsked, heading for the door.

“Days?” I squeaked. “How many?”

“Four or five. The boys brought you in.”

“Where am I?”

“In Mengels, dearie.” With a wave she disappeared as fast as she had arrived.

From the amount of time we’d spent traveling, I’d thought we’d gone farther than Mengels. Oh, well. Not my problem. I fingered the clothing the woman had left. A long dark green skirt with a thin pattern of tiny light yellow flowers, growing as if on a vine. A light yellow tunic, some undergarments and black wool leggings. With no other options, I dressed, hoping my own clothes would show up soon.

Catching my reflection in the mirror, I stared at the strange woman on the other side of the glass. My hair had grown to my shoulders. The dark auburn roots a stark comparison to my dyed-blond strands. It stuck up on one side and was matted flat on the other. I combed my fingers through and realized my hair was clean. Who had washed it?

Curious, I lifted my tunic and pulled the bandage down, inspecting my stomach. Ugly reddish-purple circular scars peppered the skin along with burn marks from the acid. I remembered when Tara had shown me her scars, noting each one was a source of pride and not censure. Since I had been an apprentice, I only had one scar from when I healed Noelle. Now, I had the ones from Belen.

The woman returned with a tray. I hurried to cover myself. She exclaimed over my clothes. “Yours were ruined. That nasty boar tore it to shreds. The boys did a nice job picking out the right size for you. Your boots are below.” She set the tray down and pulled a chair over. “I’ll bring them up, but a nice girl like you should wear something more … feminine. I can send Melina out?”

“No. Thank you, Ms… .”

“Call me Mom. Everyone does. When you stay at the Lamp Post Inn, I take care of you, just like your own mother.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m so glad you lived. Frankly, when Mr. Kerrick brought you in, I was about to call the undertaker. It’s a miracle you survived.” Mom shooed me into the chair.

At least she didn’t suspect I was a healer. My stomach grumbled as I smelled the food. The tray held a bowl of steaming soup and a hunk of bread and cheese.

“Don’t wolf it down or it’ll come up just as quick.” Mom hovered until I started eating. “I’ll be back in a bit. We’ll do something about your hair.”

I tucked a lock behind my ear. “What’s wrong …?” But she had left. Other questions came to mind, but I enjoyed the meal and the solitude. I’d been on my own for three years, and grown used to quiet. Now I’d been with Kerrick’s men for the past twenty-five days at least. Probably more.

Mom returned with my boots, two bottles, towels, scissors and a helper carrying a washbasin and large pitcher. Mom called the young girl Melina and she looked to be around Flea’s age. She filled the basin with water, and waited for orders.

I stood. “You don’t need—”

“Mr. Kerrick wants your hair one color so you don’t stand out so much.”

Mr. Kerrick could kiss my ass. I tried to be stubborn, but Mom didn’t bat an eye. She handled me as easily as a pouting two-year-old. Before I could even protest, she had me just where she wanted with my head in the basin.

“Auburn or blond?” she asked me.

“No orders from Mr. Kerrick?”

She ignored my sarcasm. “He said he preferred your natural color, but you could decide.”

Gee, what a swell guy.

“The reddish brown sets off your beautiful sea-green eyes better,” Mom said. “But if you choose blond, I’ll give you the dye so you can do your roots.”

I imagined trying to touch up my hair while camping in the Nine Mountains and almost laughed aloud. “My natural color is fine.”

It was sort of nice to be fussed over. After Mom dyed my hair to match my roots, Melina trimmed the ends with the scissors. My hack job had grown in uneven.

When they were finished, Mom stepped back. “Much, much better, my dear. You look lovely. The boys won’t recognize you.”

Good. Maybe I could escape for real this time.

“I’ll fetch them,” Mom said, dashing any hope. “They’ve been pestering to visit, but I wouldn’t let them until you were decent.”

Her comment reminded me of one of my questions. “Was it you, er … did you …?”

“Not to worry. Me and Melina took off those bloody clothes and did what we could for you. There were a few scary nights where I swore we would lose you, but Mr. Kerrick stayed by your side all night.”

That explained the annoying tug. Kerrick couldn’t even let me rest in peace. But as much as I would like to blame him for keeping me from the afterlife, earth magicians didn’t have any healing magic.

“Thank you, Mom, and thank you, too, Melina.”

Melina blushed prettily. After they left, I shoved my feet into my boots and strode to the window. My cloak and knapsack were still missing, but I could—

The door banged open and Loren, Flea and Quain charged me. I backed away until I realized they wore smiles and appeared to be happy to see me.

“Told you she’d live,” Loren said. “You owe me fifteen silvers.”

“You said �in no time.’ I believe it took her five days to recover. That’s not �in no time,’” Quain protested.

Flea beamed at me. “Wow, you look like … a girl!”

Belen plowed through them all, knocking them aside. He wrapped me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground.

“Easy, Belen. My ribs …”

He set me gently down. “Avry, why did you risk your life for me? Kerrick ordered you not to heal me. You suffered for days! You shouldn’t have done it.”

The room grew quiet. I spotted Kerrick near the doorway.

“Belen, I decide who I heal. Me. Not Kerrick. Not you. Not anyone. It’s my decision. The only one I have left.” I put my hand on his cheek. “You deserved to be saved. I had no doubts.”

He covered my hand with his own, pressing it against his face. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” And I meant it.

Mom entered. “You’ve visited. Now shoo! We don’t want her to have a relapse.”

Everyone filed out except Kerrick. Mom crossed her arms, waiting. Kerrick didn’t move. She sighed with such exasperation, I couldn’t keep from smiling. But after warning Kerrick not to tire me, Mom left, taking my good humor with her. Kerrick closed the door behind her and faced me.

Here we go. Time for the lecture. I braced for his recriminations.

“Did I see you actually smile?” he asked.

Thrown, I stared at him.

“I know you can smile,” he said, as if we were having a pleasant conversation. “You gave that little girl one even after her family turned you in to the town watch. Why?”

I stammered a moment before I collected my wits. “It wasn’t her fault her father turned me in. She’s a delightful child and I was glad to see her well.”

“Even though it almost led to your execution?”

“The two aren’t connected. I decided to heal her. I took the risk of being captured. It was my fault.”

“I see.”

I didn’t. What game was Kerrick playing now?

“We’re leaving Mengels a few hours before dawn.” He gestured to the bed. “I suggest you enjoy the comforts while you can. We won’t be overnighting at an inn again.”

“You’re still planning on taking me to Prince Ryne?”

“Yes.”

“Can you?” I asked.

He bristled. “You haven’t escaped.”

Not yet. “That isn’t what I meant. Mercs and bounty hunters are searching for me. They almost succeeded and Belen almost died. Can you really escort me to your prince without losing more of your men or me? Forty golds is a fortune to these people.”

“Almost succeeded isn’t succeeding. If you remember, we rescued you. Again.”

“And killed all those men. Even the magic sniffer, he’s—”

“Working for the enemy. If I didn’t kill them, they would attack us another time.”

“But there are more to take their place. You haven’t neutralized the source. As long as Tohon of Sogra dangles those forty golds, they’ll just keep chasing us like ufas after fresh meat. Eventually, someone’s going to succeed.”

Kerrick’s gaze turned contemplative. “What are you suggesting?”

I hadn’t realized I was. But as I chased the logic, I knew what should be done. “That we find out why Tohon wants me. Maybe if you turn me in—”

“That’s insane. I don’t need—”

“Not for the money. If you turn me in, then there’s no reason for the mercs or hunters to chase us anymore. We can learn why Tohon wants me alive. Maybe he’s like you, and wishes me to heal a sick friend or loved one. I could heal that person and then we won’t be bothered.”

“And if there’s another reason he wants you alive?”

“Then we escape. You have your earth magic.”

“Won’t work. I’m a forest mage not an earth magician. It’s a common mistake. My magic is a gift from the living essence of the forest. Tohon lives in the Sogra castle. I can’t do a thing surrounded by stone and dirt. Besides, I doubt Tohon cares enough for another to offer forty golds to save his or her life.”

“You know him?” I asked.

“Unfortunately. Why do you think he’s put a bounty on the healers?”

“I figured he lost someone to the plague and held a grudge against us.”

“No. He knows Ryne is sick and only a healer can save him. He wants the prince to die.”

So did I, but I wouldn’t go to such extremes. “Why?”

“Ryne is the only one who can stop Tohon.”




CHAPTER 7


“Stop Tohon from what?” I asked Kerrick.

“From turning the Fifteen Realms into his own personal kingdom.”

Not what I expected. “First, one man can’t change or stop anything. And second, why would Tohon’s attempt be bad? In case you missed it, our world has fallen apart. Peace throughout the Realms would be a step in the right direction.”

Kerrick shook his head. “You’ve been in hiding so long, you’ve no idea what’s really going on. Tohon is not trying to help the plague survivors. He’s gathering them into an army so he can invade all those towns that have managed to reform. Towns like Jaxton. All so his army can grow. And if his forces encounter anyone who refuses to join, they kill him or her. Tohon is … mentally unstable, and for him to be king of all … would be a living nightmare.”

“Why do you think only Ryne can stop him? Why not raise your own army?” I asked.

“Because Ryne is a brilliant strategist, and has outsmarted Tohon before.”

I huffed in disbelief. “Probably because Ryne and Tohon are both megalomaniacs.” I realized my mistake when Kerrick’s entire body stiffened. Expecting him to lose his temper, I stepped back.

Instead, he said in a flat monotone, “We’re going to cross the Nine Mountains. I suggest you get some rest while you can.”

I tried again. “We’ve been traveling for over twenty-five days and we’ve only reached Mengels. Do you really think we can get to the Nine Mountains?”

Annoyance creased his brow. “Dodging mercs, keeping off the main roads and dragging along an unwilling healer has slowed us down. However, I’ve no doubt we will reach Prince Ryne.” He opened the door, then paused. “And don’t worry about anyone disturbing you. My men will take turns staying with you.”

I bit back a sarcastic reply. After he left, I went to the window. I drew in the cool air and gauged the distance to the ground. Would the drainpipe hold my weight?

Even if I escaped, how long would I be free before Kerrick tracked me down? Or before the mercs found me? If I turned myself in to Tohon, would he give me the forty golds? A ridiculous prospect, but interesting to contemplate nonetheless.

“Avry?” Loren stood in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Taking in the view.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s the matter, Loren? Afraid I’m going to jump out the window?”

“Something like that.”

I sighed. As much as I would love to part company with Kerrick, I was smart enough to know he was better than being dragged to Tohon by a group of mercenaries. I shuffled over to my bed, kicked off my boots and squirmed under the covers.

Loren closed and locked the shutters before settling into a nearby chair. I enjoyed the warmth and comfort of the bed, but couldn’t fall asleep.

“Why did we come to Mengels?” I asked Loren.

“Do you want the ugly truth or for me to sum it up nice and neat?” His words were punctuated with anger.

I propped up on my elbow and studied Loren’s expression. “Did you want Belen to die?”

“No … yes … no.” He rubbed his face. “It wasn’t my decision.”

“That’s right. It was mine and it was easy. I’m sorry it caused you such … trouble. And don’t expect me to promise not to do it again.”

Loren laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you that. Wouldn’t want you to make our lives easier or anything.”

“You’d be bored.” I flopped back onto the pillows. “Although I’m not too sorry. I ended up in this lovely bed.”

“You can thank Kerrick for that.”

“Ugh. I’d rather not.”

“He probably saved your life.”

“Oh?”

“He packed leaves and mud into the holes in your stomach and wrapped a bandage tight around your waist. We used Belen’s litter and ran here. Mom’s famous for her healing herbal remedies and she forced spoonful after spoonful down your throat.”

“Should I thank Mom, then?”

“Not funny.”

Kerrick only worked so hard to save my life so I could save Ryne’s. He didn’t care about me. “You’re right, it isn’t.”

“Get some sleep, Avry.”

Despite Kerrick’s promise of a peaceful rest, a commotion outside my door woke me in the middle of the night. The lantern had been turned down low, and Quain had replaced Loren. He stood near the door with his dagger in hand.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He shushed me, and cracked the door open. Mom’s frantic voice pierced the darkness. Pounding steps drummed past my room. Other voices joined Mom’s. Unable to wait any longer, I slid from the bed and crept beside Quain. He shot me a dark look before returning his attention to the hallway.

“Well?” I whispered.

Quain pointed his dagger at me. “Go back to bed.”

After being on Kerrick’s bad side, Quain’s attempt to intimidate me didn’t work. It fact, it had the opposite effect. “No.”

He jerked in surprise. Opening his mouth, he paused, then shut it.

The noises from the hall died down. Then Kerrick pushed into my room with the others behind him. Their expressions told an interesting story. Belen concerned, Loren uneasy, Flea angry and Kerrick impassive as usual.

“Since we’re all awake, we’ll leave now,” Kerrick said.

Flea swallowed his squawk of protest when Kerrick glared at him.

“Why’s Mom so upset?” I asked.

“It’s not our concern,” Kerrick said. “Belen, do you have her cloak?”

Belen nodded.

“Belen, tell me,” I said.

“Melina’s missing,” Flea answered. “Over the past six weeks, someone’s been kidnapping girls and disappearing into the woods. None of the town watch has been able to find them.” He stared at Kerrick.

“It’s not our concern,” Kerrick repeated. “We don’t have time for this.”

I rounded on him. “You’re a cold, heartless bastard.”

He remained calm, but I sensed his fury simmering. It would soon boil. Too bad.

“Of course it’s our concern! Mom took us in, she helped me. You can find them.”

“In case you haven’t been paying attention, if Ryne is more important to me than Belen’s life, then he’s certainly a higher priority than some girl.”

“Girls, Kerrick. Not girl. The beast has done it before and will do it again. You hold your prince in such high esteem, what would he think about you abandoning Melina and Mom for him?”

Anger twitched on his face, but Kerrick held his temper.

Belen answered for him. “Ryne would be appalled.”

That was the first good thing I’d heard about Ryne. Unfortunately, the argument had no effect on Kerrick.

Time to make a concession. “Find Melina, and I won’t make any more escape attempts. We’ll be able to travel faster if I cooperate,” I said.

“And you’ll heal Ryne?” Kerrick asked.

“No, but I’ll give you until we reach him to change my mind. How’s that?”

“Will you swear to it?” he asked.

“I, Avry of Kazan Realm, give you my word.”

“Agreed.” He held out his hand.

When I clasped it, a strange tingle of magic zipped up my arm. I let go quickly.

“Okay, gentlemen, looks like we’re going hunting,” Kerrick said.

Everyone rushed to get ready. Before Flea hustled from my room, he touched my shoulder. “Thanks, Avry.”

“Are we friends again?” I asked.

“Yep.” He flashed his lopsided grin and ran after Quain.

I stopped Belen. “Do you have my knapsack? I need to change into my travel clothes before we leave.”

“You’re staying here,” Kerrick said.

“No. Melina might need me.”

“We’ll bring her back here.”

“If she goes with you. She might be traumatized and not trusting a bunch of men. Forcing her will only make it worse.”

He considered.

I added more incentive. “The town watch is combing the woods—there’ll be no one here to protect me if the mercenaries catch up to us.”

Belen hid his smile as Kerrick’s shoulders drooped just a smidge. “Fine.”

When Kerrick left, Belen shook his head. “Flea argued and begged Kerrick to help Melina. I tried and so did Loren. No luck. But you changed his mind.”

“Only because I gave up my freedom.”

“I don’t think so. You can really get under his skin. This has been a most interesting trip. I can’t wait to see what else happens.”

“I can.”

When Belen returned with my knapsack, I asked him why Kerrick was the one in charge. Belen was a few years older, stronger and more personable.

“Prince Ryne asked him to find a healer.” Belen turned his back so I could change into my extra set of black travel clothes. Which were now my only set. I folded the tunic and skirt, tucking them into my pack just in case.

Belen handed me his two daggers. “Keep them with you just in case.”

“Won’t Kerrick be upset?”

“He never ordered us not to give you a weapon.”

I smiled, thinking how he and Kerrick acted like brothers. “Kerrick and you are both from Alga Realm. So how did you meet Ryne?” I asked.

“Long story. Let’s find Melina first.”

Easier said than done. Despite Kerrick’s magical connection, we couldn’t find the man who had taken Melina. When dawn woke the colors of the forest, I hoped we’d find a trail to follow. No luck.

I worried that Kerrick would give up the search, seeing it all as a colossal waste of time. When we encountered yet another large group of people, I remembered how the forest reacted to intruders. Finding two people among all these searchers would be almost impossible.

“We need to talk to Mom,” I said to Kerrick during one of our breaks.

He sharpened his sword with a stone. “Why?” he asked without looking up.

“Only she can empty the woods for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know.” I gestured at the surrounding trees. “How the intruders feel to the forest, like an infection or pox on a sick patient.”

Kerrick stopped in midstroke, glancing at me with suspicion. “How do you know that?”

“From you.”

“I didn’t tell—”

I huffed. “When you grabbed me from the mercs. Remember? Your skin and hair turned the colors of the forest, and—”

“I know what I did. I just didn’t know you could … feel it, as well. I never could explain the experience to anyone.” He considered. “You’re right. We should ask Mom to empty the forest of searchers.”

Shocked that he admitted I was right, I almost missed the next thing he said.

“But Mom doesn’t know,” Kerrick said.

“Doesn’t know what?” Belen asked. He had returned from scouting and sat down next to me.

Kerrick stared at me with a hint of amusement as I realized Belen didn’t know about his forest magic, either. And Kerrick wasn’t inclined to tell him. Though he didn’t seem worried I’d tell Belen. Hell.

Magicians tended to be skittish, as well. When a family discovered their child was gifted with powers, they kept it quiet until the child learned control of his magic and could protect himself. Kidnapping of young mages had been an unfortunate problem before the plague. Children with magic could be sold for a thousand gold pieces to the northern tribes living in the wildlands.

“Mom doesn’t know I’m a healer, so if we find Melina and she’s injured it would be better not to have anyone around.” I don’t know why I covered for Kerrick. Perhaps I could use it to my advantage someday.

“Oh.”

We sat in silence for a while. I thought about the problem.

“The kidnapper has gone to ground,” I said. “We’ll tell Mom we know where, but he won’t emerge until everyone has given up. Mom will understand and order everyone but us out.”

“And what if we still don’t find them?” Kerrick asked.

“Do you have another idea?”

“No.”

Kerrick followed my plan, asking Mom to bring in the searchers. Since there had been no signs of Melina, she was happy for any bit of good news. Guilt churned in my stomach over our little deception. Little—how was that for trying to make myself feel better?

After all the watchmen and volunteers returned to the Lamp Post Inn, Kerrick ordered his men to stay behind, as well. “We will go alone,” he said, gesturing to me.

They protested and I wondered what Kerrick was up to. He didn’t change his mind. As we headed out, I tucked one of the daggers Belen gave me into my belt and the other into my boot. Kerrick noticed the action, but didn’t say a word.

When we reached the door, Belen stepped in the way. “If any harm—”

“Comes to her, you’ll rip out my arms. Got it,” Kerrick said.

“I’m serious,” Belen said.

“I know. Do you really think I’d put her in danger?”

“Not on purpose, but things happen that are beyond even your control.”

Kerrick gave him a tight smile. “You mean I’m not omnipotent?”

“You’re not even semipotent.”

“Is that even a word?” Kerrick asked.

“He probably meant you’re impotent,” I offered.

It was worth Kerrick’s glare to hear Belen’s deep chuckle. He pushed Belen aside. The big man’s laughter followed us as we left the inn.

Kerrick paused just after entering the forest. “We don’t have much light left. We’ll need to move quickly. How committed are you to finding Melina?”

An odd question. “Very.”

He held out his hand. “Two is better than one.”

Understanding rolled through me. I really didn’t want to touch him, but this wasn’t about me. When his fingers wrapped around mine, magic zipped along my skin, connecting me with the forest.

My awareness expanded into the trees and along the ground. The living green rustled with unease. Unwelcome irritants had trampled its young shoots. It pulsed with pain from broken branches and cut foliage. Deep in its heart, a splinter throbbed. A sore spot the forest wished to remove.

United through the forest’s essence, we searched for that thorn without saying a word. No need. I was no longer Avry, but an extension of green.

Together we found the path of a dangerous intruder. Light at first, it darkened as if rotting with excessive moisture. The smell of decay hung in the air.

And then it loomed before us. An infection oozing with an unnatural bile. Kerrick released my hand. I sank to my knees as the living essence retreated and Avry returned.

I sucked in deep breaths to clear my head, letting my eyes adjust to once again being an observer and not a part of the forest. I mourned the loss of the forest’s state of being, and I wondered how Kerrick could be so grumpy and mean when he had that ability to sink into the living green at will.

He crouched next to me, pointing to a hillside. “See that?”

“The hill?” I squinted in the semidarkness. The shape had an odd … bump.

“That’s how he’s managed to avoid capture. He built a cabin into the hillside and camouflaged it with moss, grass and dirt. Stay here.” Kerrick crept through the woods, keeping well away from the hidden cabin. No sound marked his passage. Soon he disappeared from my sight.

I waited as the air cooled and darkened. My concern about Melina grew with each minute I spent doing nothing. We should storm the cabin before that bastard could harm her. What if she was dead?

Kerrick returned after full dark. A satisfied smirk twisted his lips.

“Where have you been?” I whispered.

“Did you miss me?”

“Not possible. However, there’s a girl—”

“I looped around the cabin. There isn’t another entrance or any windows. But I found a chimney of sorts. He’s using a small metal pipe to vent the smoke from a fire.”

“And this helps us how?”

“Think about it. There is only one way to get inside. If we try to go through that door, he’ll be waiting for us. He has the advantage.”

But if he came outside, we would have the upper hand. What would force him to leave? “You blocked the pipe?”

“Yep. We’ll smoke him out.”

Clever. But I wouldn’t admit I was impressed.

“When he emerges, I’ll take care of him. You find Melina and help her. Understand?”

“Yes.”

Kerrick positioned himself near the entrance while I crouched a few feet behind him. It didn’t take long for the moss-covered door to swing open. A shaft of firelight pierced the darkness as white smoke billowed out. A tall man waved his arms to clear the haze. He coughed once before Kerrick pounced, wrapping his hands around the man’s neck.

I straightened. Intent on telling Kerrick not to kill the guy, I stepped closer but froze as three more men ran from the cabin.




CHAPTER 8


The three men rushed Kerrick, knocking him and the tall guy to the ground. Even surprised by them, Kerrick managed to land a few blows before he was overpowered. Two men sat on him, while the third took his sword. They questioned him, but Kerrick remained silent.

I stood in the open, unnoticed for now and afraid to call attention to myself. I stepped back into the shadows, but I caught the tall guy’s attention. Recovered from his near strangulation, he dashed forward and clamped a hand on my arm, hauling me into the firelight streaming from the cabin.

“What do we have here?” he asked.

I was getting tired of being manhandled all the time. My fear transformed into anger. “Are you blind?” I asked. “Oh, that’s right. You’ve been playing with girls so long, you’ve no idea what a woman looks like.”

Instantly angry, he backhanded me. Expecting the attack, I leaned away and caught a glancing blow. The force knocked me to the ground. While there, I pulled the dagger from my belt and held it close to my body. Tall Guy pulled me to my feet by my hair.

I pressed his fist against my head, trapping his hand. Not only did the move stop the pain, but I now touched him. Skin to skin. Magic exploded from my core. I channeled it into him. He screamed, but I held on.

The man with Kerrick’s sword charged. I spun, putting Tall Guy between us. He dropped to his knees still yelling, which made it easier for me to press the tip of my knife against his throat. Sword Man stopped in midcharge. I reduced the amount of pain, quieting Tall Guy.

Nice to have everyone’s undivided attention. “Release the girl, or I’ll slit your buddy’s throat.”

The two squatters on Kerrick jumped off and yanked him to his feet. Sword Man aimed the blade’s tip at Kerrick’s neck. “I can play that game, too,” he said.

“You’re assuming I care about him.” I laughed. “Go ahead. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

By their stunned silence, I guessed they hadn’t been expecting that response. Kerrick kept his expression neutral, but I felt his glower. His gaze flicked to the ground for a second before he resumed looking bored. Turning the dark gray color of the forest, Kerrick’s boots and legs seemed to disappear. Vines twisted around the squatter’s ankles as Kerrick used his forest magic.

I zapped my captive. He jerked and cried out. “Go get Melina or he dies,” I said.

As far as distractions go, it wasn’t the best, but it worked. Kerrick faded into the surrounding woods. When the squatters realized he had gone, they moved to chase after him, tripping over the vines. As they rolled on the ground in panic, the ivy twined around their legs, tightened their hold. Sword Man tried to cut them free with the blade.

The scene would have been comical except Kerrick appeared behind Sword Man and grabbed his head the way he had trapped the merc’s.

“Don’t kill him!” I yelled.

Instead of snapping Sword Man’s neck, Kerrick squeezed until the man stopped struggling and slumped to the ground. I released the pressure on Tall Guy’s fist. His hand dropped. I pushed his head forward, exposing the back of his neck. Quickly finding the sweet spot, I knocked him out.

I checked on Kerrick’s victim. He still had a pulse.

“Take care of the others,” Kerrick said. Strain tightened his voice. He leaned against a tree with his eyes closed.

I hurried to the two squatters. The vines had trapped their arms. I touched that sensitive spot on each of their necks, rendering them both unconscious.

“How long?” Kerrick asked.

“They’ll be out three hours at least.”

“Good.” He collapsed.

I knelt beside him. “What’s wrong?”

He batted my hand away. “Go check on Melina.” But when I wouldn’t move, he added, “Vines are stubborn in autumn.”

“Oh.” I glanced at the two prone forms. The leaves had already turned brown and the vines looked brittle. Kerrick had sapped his energy.

“Go,” Kerrick ordered.

I rushed to the cabin’s entrance and paused for a second, dreading what I might find inside. She had been alone with four men for almost a day. I entered into an open sitting area. A fire burned inside a stone hearth built into the left wall. A row of cots lined up near the right wall. Smoke rolled along the ceiling and spilled out the door. Along the back wall was another door. Running across the sitting area, I fumbled to unlock it. I yanked it open, revealing blackness. I hesitated in the threshold, afraid of what I might find. “Melina?” I called.

“In here,” she said with a sob.

I sagged with relief. “Hold on, I’ll get a lantern.”

I rushed to light one. Holding it in front of me, I entered the dark room. Melina flinched as the yellow glow illuminated her bleeding and battered face. Her left wrist was chained to a cot and she wasn’t alone. Two other girls sat on other beds. They were similarly shackled. One of them also sported bruises, but otherwise they appeared to be unharmed. They stared at me in surprise.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

Melina touched her cheek. “Not bad.”

“Did they …” I couldn’t finish.

“No,” the girl with the bruised face said. “We’re to be sold. But if you give them trouble, then …” She slammed a fist into her palm.

“Sold for what?” I asked horrified.

She looked at me as if she couldn’t believe how naive I was. “Wives if we’re lucky. Slaves or prostitutes if we aren’t.”

The other girl gestured toward the door. “Are they gone?”

“They’ve been, uh, neutralized. Do you know where the key to the cuffs is?” I asked.

“One of them carried it with him,” Melina said.

I placed the lantern on a nearby table. “I’ll be back.”

Outside, the men remained where I’d left them. Kerrick appeared to be asleep, but when I neared, he asked, “Is she …?”

“She’s alive, but injured, and there are two others.” I explained what I learned while I searched the men’s pockets for the key.

“Unfortunately, selling women is not limited to this area.

The plague has left many places with an uneven population. There’re gangs who will find wives for survivors for a price.”

I glanced at the men. Bastards. Maybe I’d let Kerrick kill them, after all.

“Did you heal Melina?”

“Not yet.” This earned me an appraising glance. I dug my hand into Tall Guy’s back pocket and finally found the key.

“Good. Release them and take them to Mom’s right now.” Kerrick pushed up on one elbow with obvious effort.

“Why?”

He huffed. “Can’t you just follow orders for once?”

“Do you really want an answer?”

“Only if it’s, �Yes, sir.’”

“Not going to happen.”

He paused as if summoning the willpower not to bark at me. “There’s a group of people—seven men and two women—heading this way. I can’t tell if they’re friendly or not, so you and the girls need to leave well before they arrive.”

“What about you?”

“I can handle myself.”

I pushed on his shoulder. He fell back onto the ground.

“Uh-huh. Want to try that again?” I asked.

“No one’s after me,” he said. “You’re the one in danger. Plus you’ll be risking the others.”

“What happens when these four wake up?”

“I thought you didn’t care. They’ll be doing you a favor.”

“I’d love to leave you. Believe me. But I gave my word. Come on.” I helped him to his feet.

Even though Kerrick was taller than me, my shoulder ended up being the perfect height for supporting him.

“Now what?” he asked.

“We’ll hide inside the cabin until the others pass us by.”

“What about the prior occupants?”

“I’ll drag them inside.”

“Your plan—”

I pulled him along. He was too weak to resist. Fun. I dumped him onto one of the cots in the sitting room before releasing Melina and the other girls. They rubbed their wrists and followed me out to the main room. They froze when they spotted Kerrick.

“You remember Kerrick from the inn, don’t you?” I asked Melina.

“Yes.”

“He’s part of the rescue team.”

She glanced around. “Are there others?”

“Ah … No. We had been expecting one man. Not four.”

Melina shuddered.

“And we have a bit of a problem.” I explained our situation to the three of them.

They offered to help.

“Where’s the chimney?” I asked Kerrick.

Although dubious of my plan, he explained how I could find the metal pipe in the dark. It took me longer to locate the chimney than I had hoped. Kerrick had shoved a clump of muddy leaves to block it. I cleared it and hurried back.

While I was gone, Bianca—the girl with the fading bruises—Peni and Melina had dragged the unconscious men into the hideout. They’d shackled the men to the cots in the back room and locked the door. Nice.

Empowered, they discussed what they’d like to do to the men in great detail. Kerrick muffled a horrified croak. He had one foot resting on the dirt floor. “If you ladies are done plotting revenge, you might want to cover our tracks outside before the others reach us.”

“How long do we have?” I asked him.

“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes max.”

Damn. I rushed outside and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Between the scuff marks from the fight and the drag marks, even I could figure out which way we went. They would discover the hidden cabin in no time.

Melina relayed instructions from Kerrick as I smoothed the ground with my hands and …”Are you sure he said to sprinkle the leaves?” I asked her.

“Yes.”

I worked as fast as I could to hide the marks, backing up until I reached the cabin. Standing in the threshold, I studied my efforts. We were in big trouble.

Nothing more to do, I closed and latched the door. I gave Bianca my knife before picking up Kerrick’s sword. Both Melina and Peni armed themselves with kitchen knives.

“Give me your other knife,” Kerrick said.

I had forgotten about the one in my boot. But he hadn’t.

When I handed it to him, he said, “Help me stand.”

“But you’re too—”

“They don’t know that.”

Good point. I grabbed his wrists, pulling him to his feet. A weak pulse of magic traveled up my arm. I had a brief sense of the travelers close by before I let him go. He wobbled, but steadied himself with a hand against the dirt wall.

Bianca and I positioned ourselves on each side of the door. Ready for … I wasn’t entirely sure. I strained, listening for any sounds, but I watched Kerrick’s expression.

A few minutes passed without incident. Then Kerrick straightened.

“They’re suspicious,” he whispered.

“What are you doing?” I asked, pitching my voice low.

“Increasing the camouflage around the door.”

All color drained from his face. “I …” He swayed and reached for the cot. “They’re …”

I debated for a second before abandoning my post. Kerrick sat on the edge. Taking his hand in mine, I released my healing power, sending it into him. Energy flowed through him as it drained from me. Through Kerrick, I learned the moss on the door had thickened and grown over the bare spots that would have given us away.

Magic surrounded two of the nine people searching outside. Kerrick’s awareness stretched farther into the forest. Finding what he searched for, Kerrick shook a tree about a mile away. A dead limb crashed to the ground. I felt the impact through Kerrick. The noise drew the others away.

He released my hand.

“But I can—”

“No. Save your strength.” His voice rasped.

Melina came over. “Are they …?”

“Gone.” Keeping one foot on the ground, Kerrick lay back on the cot and fell asleep in an instant.

I stood on unsteady legs.

Melina twisted the bottom of her tunic. “Can we leave now?”

“No. We have to wait for Kerrick to regain his strength. Sorry.”

“He’s a magician, isn’t he?” she asked in a low voice.

“Yes. Although I don’t think it’s common knowledge.”

She nodded as if she understood. “I don’t blame him. With ten golds being offered for information on the whereabouts of magicians, I’d keep quiet, too.”

“Ten golds? Why?”

“Mom told me that since many of the Realms’ legitimate leaders have died, the remaining powerful people are all scrambling to amass armies, grab Realms and stockpile resources, including magicians.”

“I thought that was just one of those paranoid rumors.”

“Where have you been?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “We had a customer from Grzebien who told us his town was in the middle of reorganizing when a large army arrived to help. Except they set up their own town watch and declared the city an official member of the Ozero Realm, and under the protection of the High Priestess’s holy army.”

“Was there any resistance?”

“I doubt it. If Grzebien is anything like Mengels, there’s not enough people or energy to put up much of a fight.” She glanced at the back door. “If the High Priestess’s army can stop bastards like them and bring peace back, I’m more than happy to wear one of those red robes and give thanks to their creator.”

Which, from what I’d learned from Tara, Melina would be forced to do. The High Priestess, also known as Estrid of Ozero was intolerant of other faiths, and required her subjects to be members of her cultlike religion. Was she better or worse than Tohon? I mulled it over as I rummaged for food. Bianca and Peni helped me cook a simple vegetable soup. Melina’s pale face worried me. She sat nearby, holding a wet cloth to her bleeding cheek. I asked her who the other powerful survivors were to distract her from the pain.

“Tohon of Sogra and Prince Ryne of Ivdel until he disappeared. I’ve also heard a couple Algan princes, President Lyady’s daughter and a few other minor nobles lived, but they’re not looking to rule, just survive like the rest of us. Oh, and some guy claiming he’s the Skeleton King has a small army in Ryazan Realm.”

“That’s it?” Now Kerrick’s comment about Tohon wanting Ryne dead made more sense. As I thought about the problem, I wondered how greedy Tohon could be? Fifteen Realms split three ways would give each leader five Realms. But who would decide which five? Each Realm had its own assets and drawbacks. The richest ones would be the most desirable.

I found a loaf of bread and a wedge of goat’s cheese to go with the soup. Melina picked listlessly at her portion while I tore into mine. I saved a hunk of both for Kerrick.

When I suggested we get a few hours of sleep, Melina shot to her feet. “No. I’m not … I can’t … I want to go home.” Her body shook.

I embraced her as she broke down. She had been so strong earlier and hadn’t complained at all that I had forgotten how young she was—at least three years younger than Bianca and Peni. Guiding her over to a cot, I lay down next to her. Magic pulsed under my ribs and I released it. Melina had been punched repeatedly in the face. While I could heal her wounds, I couldn’t erase her memories. At least she’d have Mom to comfort her.

A hand shook my shoulder. I jerked awake. Kerrick leaned over me. Annoyance creased his brow. Melina stood behind him. She covered her mouth with her hand, staring at me with wide eyes as she put the clues together. She felt great and I had bruises covering my face. I wondered if Melina or the other girls would turn me in, but I couldn’t produce the energy to care.

“My men will be here soon,” Kerrick said, straightening.

“The ones you ordered to stay at the inn?” I asked, suppressing a grin.

“Yes. They’re leading Mom and half the town watch straight here. Quain is tracking our trail—which should be impossible to follow.” Disgruntled, he glanced at the door. “I taught him too well. Either that or Quain is half eagle.”

“A bald eagle?” I quipped.

Kerrick smiled a genuine smile. One that reached his eyes. Good thing I was already lying down or I would have fainted in surprise. It faded as he studied me.

“Will you be able to travel?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He strode to the door and unlocked it. With his hand on the knob, he paused and looked at me. “My men had never disobeyed an order before we found you.”

Even though his comment was meant to be a complaint, I said, “Thank you,” just to annoy him.

It worked. He decided to wait for his men outside. Sunlight streamed in from the open door. I blinked in the brightness. Morning already?

“Avry, what happened?” Melina asked. “Your face … Are you …?”

I sat up and made room for her to sit next to me. “Yes, I’m a healer.” I spoke in a low voice so the others didn’t overhear, not that it would matter once they saw me.

“Is that why those people from last night are after you?” she asked.

“Unfortunately.”

“Is Kerrick protecting you so he can turn you in for the bounty?”

She had a quick intelligence, and, out of curiosity, I asked, “What do you think?”

Tugging on the hem of her tunic, Melina considered my question for a few minutes. “He’s protecting you, but not for the gold.” She put her hand on my cheek. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” The truth.

“Did it hurt?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.”

“No, Melina, it doesn’t.” How to explain it? I searched for the right words. “Your pain was a reminder of what happened to you. But the pain I felt was connected to you—a bright young lady. By healing your injuries, I was helping you and that transforms how I perceive the pain, making it bearable.”

She still looked unconvinced.

I tried again. “It’s like when I held my newborn sister. Noelle was heavy and my muscles ached, but the discomfort paled in comparison to my awe over her presence in my arms. I would have been content to hold her… .” Sudden grief choked off my words. I had been six, but I’d never forget the intense desire to hold and protect her forever. As she grew, she had been full of impish curiosity. And she’d follow me so much that I’d called her my little shadow.

“They’re here,” Kerrick said behind me.

I startled and turned, but he had already left. He needed to wear a bell or something, I grumbled as voices called. In no time, Mom barreled past everyone and gathered Melina in her arms.

The town watch took the four men into custody. Mom squinted hard at me, and I immediately felt guilty. But she didn’t comment on my bruises. As Melina and the others told their tales, no one mentioned my healing powers.

Belen and the others waited outside. They had brought all our travel gear. We could leave from the cabin and not have to backtrack to the Lamp Post Inn first, which made Kerrick a bit happier.

When I joined them, the guys appeared to be glad to see me. Belen inspected my face.

“Good thing I wasn’t here,” Belen said in a low growl. “I would have ripped the four of them apart and scattered the pieces for the scavengers to eat.”

Quain scanned the ground at our feet. “It looked like quite a fight. What happened here?” He pointed to a long scuff mark.

“That’s where she made good use of Belen’s—or should I say her—knife,” Kerrick said. He turned to me. “You can keep them if you promise not to use them against us.”

I copied his flat expression. “First, it’s not your decision if I can keep them or not, it’s Belen’s. Second, I am not going to promise—”

“The knives are yours,” Belen said. “And we should teach you how to swing a sword.”

Kerrick coughed. “No, we shouldn’t. She’s dangerous enough.” He ended the discussion by ordering us to gather our packs.

We said goodbye to Bianca, Peni, Melina and Mom.

“You’re welcome to come back anytime,” Mom said to me. “We’ll always have a room for you. No charge. I know what you must have done for my daughter, but don’t you worry, we won’t say a word.”

I hugged her in thanks. It felt good to be embraced even if it was for only a moment.

We headed north. No clouds marred the bright blue sky. The air held a cool crisp scent of leaves and earth—gorgeous weather that was perfect for hiking. Kerrick led, and for the first time since I’d been rescued from Jaxton’s jail, I felt … not quite content since anxiety, worry and fear still shadowed me. But more alive.

When I used my magic to heal others, I had a purpose and felt satisfaction over helping another. I was needed. Even if this “adventure” didn’t last long, it had roused me from the nothingness that my life had been before. Three wasted years.




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