The Restorer's Son, page 8
part #2 of The Sword of Lyric Series
“Kieran’s here? Half of Lyric is hunting for him. Are you crazy?”
“Shhh. They’ve already been here looking.”
I stepped forward. “Jameth, I don’t want to cause your family trouble. I was hoping to borrow some supplies, but I’ll leave if you’d rather.” It wouldn’t be a surprise if he tossed me out the door. Or ran to get the Council guards.
He sighed and looked me up and down. “When did you last sleep?”
I ran a hand across the rough stubble on my jaw. “A couple days, I think.”
Jameth nodded. “You look it. Stay here tonight and I’ll get the supplies you need. You can leave at first light.”
I studied his expression, unsure that he meant it.
“Kieran, I may not be happy about it, but you are family. You can rest here tonight.” He strode past me into the kitchen.
I followed him, stepping around Luc’s toys. “No need. If you can help us restock, we’ll leave before nightfall.” I didn’t want to put Jameth and Tag in danger. Or maybe I wasn’t completely sure I could trust them.
Tag spoke up. “You are not dragging this boy out into the forest after dark. Poor thing.”
Jake had settled back at the table and was busy stuffing fruit into his mouth as fast as he could. The “poor thing” looked thrilled to be offered a soft bed for the night.
Maybe they were right. Maybe we should risk a little rest. My reflexes were slow from too many nights without sleep.
Jameth saw my hesitation. “You’ll both be under my protection here,” he said formally.
“No one can know we’ve been here.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t want anyone to suspect we helped you. I understand the danger.”
I relaxed a little. We were a threat to each other, and that made me feel as safe as I’d been in many days. While Jameth ate, we talked over the supplies I needed, although I was careful to remain vague about my plans. Jake warmed up to Tag and began drilling her with questions about every mundane item in her kitchen, his eyes bright with curiosity. After Jameth headed back out to work, I interrupted Tag’s explanation of clavo and Jake’s dissertation about his favorite drinks on his world.
“Jake, enough.” He had no caution. Who knew what he might let slip?
His animated gestures stopped immediately, and he pulled into himself, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Tag glared at me. “I’ve been thinking. Jake should stay here with us when you leave. It doesn’t look like you’ve done a great job taking care of him.” Her eyes tracked the blood on his tunic and turned back to me.
I should have jumped at the chance to get rid of the gangly adolescent nuisance. Instead, I bristled. “No. He’s coming with me.”
An expression flitted across Jake’s down-turned face, but I couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment. He hid it quickly and looked at Tag. “Thanks for showing me all this stuff. And it’s really nice of you to let us stay here.”
Tag beamed. “My pleasure.” Then she turned back to me. “So Kieran, will you take a message to Tristan for me?”
I glared at her. “You don’t know where we’re heading.”
“Right. So will you take a message?”
“I will,” Jake chimed in. “Just write him a note, and I’ll take it to him.”
Tag and I exchanged a bewildered look. “Do what?” she asked.
“Write a note.” Jake took a swallow of water from his mug. “Words on paper? You know?” When Jake saw our confusion, his eyes widened. “You mean you don’t write? How do you remember what’s important? How do you send messages?”
“We have messengers,” Tag said slowly.
“This just gets weirder and weirder.” Jake turned back to his plate.
He had that right. And my resistance was so low from fatigue that I relented and let Tag recite a message for me to take to Tristan in Braide Wood—even while reminding her that I had no intention of heading that way.
I’d been running two steps ahead of danger for several days, so I didn’t expect to sleep well that night. But apparently even Restorers need rest; exhaustion claimed me right after supper, and when I opened my eyes again, it was morning. I woke with the vague unease caused by nightmares that I couldn’t completely remember. Something about being bound—struggling against ropes—and running. Lots of running. But it wasn’t the Lyric guardians who had been chasing me.
I pushed aside the images along with the blanket and rubbed my neck. Past time to leave Lyric.
I offered sincere thanks to both Jameth and Tag, along with a reminder to tell no one we had been in Lyric. Then Jake and I set out through the dim, near-empty streets toward the city wall. Jake had his own pack now, and mine was restocked with enough rations to enable us to travel quickly and independently for several days. We edged our way through little-used alleys, staying pressed against buildings wherever possible. I desperately wanted to try once more to reconnoiter the Council and guardian towers for any news about the Kahlareans, but it was too risky. We’d have to set out for Braide Wood assuming the assassins were still out there and that the odds were high they would pick up our trail.
When we reached the curving scallop of the white wall, I pulled out my scrambler.
“Could I try?” Jake asked.
He’d been quiet all morning, and I hadn’t known what to make of his silence. I assumed he was still struggling to accept his new circumstances, but I had too much to worry about to waste time reassuring him. Still, it was a relief to see him liven up about something . . . even if it was illegal lock scrambling.
I showed him how to depolarize the magnetic locking system and explained some of the uses of the tool. After a few tries, he got the door open and grinned widely. I had to snatch the tool out of his hands, or he would have kept playing all morning.
We jogged over several gray, moss-covered hills before reaching the shelter of the forest. Once we’d covered a couple miles, I stopped to give Jake a rest. We sat down on a fallen tree, and I pulled out a gourd of juice and tossed it to him. He drank some and his face puckered. “So you really knew my parents?” Jake asked suddenly.
I studied him without answering. He looked better today. A couple of good meals went a long way toward putting color back into his face. Tag had replaced Jake’s strange and bloodied shirt with a woven earth-toned tunic that would fit right in when we reached Braide Wood. His long hair fell across his brow, and he pushed it back, giving me another glimpse of the metal studs he wore.
“When did that happen?” I grimaced at the wounds in the upper cartilage of his ear.
He took a moment to figure out what I meant and then grinned. “My eighteenth birthday. Mom wouldn’t let me get any piercings until then.”
“You chose to have metal attached to your head?”
“Don’t people here have piercings?”
“The Hazorites use them to mark the slaves from conquered nations. At first I figured you were an escaped slave from one of the villages on the far side of Sidian.”
Jake laughed, a rich, light-hearted sound. I’d watched him in a variety of circumstances, and there was no cynicism or bitterness in him. He seemed as forthright as Tristan, but without the weight of guilt and responsibility that Tristan wore like a cloak. He was a resilient young man.
I gave another grudging mental nod toward Markkel and Susan. They’d done well with him. Had they already discovered Jake was missing? What would they do? Could they return to Lyric through the portal? I didn’t know enough about how it worked. If so, would they soon be roaming Lyric looking for Jake? What if the Kahlareans learned that Susan the Restorer was back and continued their quest to kill her? I scrubbed at my forehead, suddenly tired.
For a moment I almost wished for Linette’s easy ability to ask the One for help. This situation was dangerously complicated, and I had a bad feeling that I could be making things worse by leaving Lyric. But waiting to be grabbed by either the Council Guard or the Kahlareans wasn’t an option either.
I looped the gourd’s tie around one of the straps on my pack and levered myself back to my feet, deciding to answer his earlier question. “Yes, I knew your parents. I crossed swords with your mother a few times.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he eyed the sheath that rested against my hip. “Unbelievable.” Then he pushed himself to his feet and fell in beside me as we continued striding through the woods. “So who won?”
A short bark of laughter burst from my chest. The first time we’d sparred was by the caves overlooking Braide Wood. She barely had the strength to swing her sword, and I left her covered with small cuts. They healed rapidly. No harm done. Still, I didn’t feel like explaining that to Jake. Then came the fight with her and Markkel in the guardians’ training tower. I ended up on the floor with Markkel’s foot on my chest and his sword tip under my chin. I had a fever, and it was two against one. Hardly a fair fight. I could have beaten her easily. But that was before she had fully developed her Restorer powers. The way she fought during the battle on Morsal Plains, I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the wrong side of her sword that day.
“I guess we’re about even.” I picked up the pace so he’d be too out of breath to keep asking questions.
Late in the afternoon, when the rains began to ease, we arrived at a large grove of bitum trees. Clusters of these wide-leaved giants grew in almost every area of clan territories. Here they presented a challenge. Their trunks were covered with overlapping runnels of black, sticky sap, and grew so close together that it took effort to weave between them without touching any. This grove was also unique because it was tucked in the narrow gap between two ridgelines.
Jake walked straight toward one of the trees, his hand outstretched. “Wow! I’ve never seen trees like this before.”
I grabbed the back collar of his tunic and jerked him away. “Don’t touch it.”
He coughed and straightened the shirt so it no longer cut into his neck. “Why?” He glared at me.
“Fine. Go ahead and get yourself covered with sap. But I’m not slowing down to help you.”
His eyes narrowed.
I pulled my boot knife from its sheath and cut a long gouge into the trunk of the closest tree. Viscous fluid poured from the slit and pooled on the ground around the tree. Jake stood and watched me. I jerked my head. “Go on. Straight through there. I’ll be right behind you.”
He opened his mouth to ask me what I was doing, but then shook his head and started winding his way forward between the tall trunks. His slim build helped him in the effort to slip between the trees without brushing against them. I followed, weaving side-to-side and cutting deeply into each trunk with my knife. The tar-like pools at the base of each tree grew and began to crawl toward each other. When we left the grove, I paused to wipe the worst of the sap off my blade and sheathed it. We picked up our pace.
“What was that all about?” Jake asked.
I ignored him and glanced at the sky. There wasn’t much time left to find a defensible shelter for the night. I plowed ahead, keeping my ears attuned to the clumsy rustling of Jake’s progress behind me, but also focusing outward for the subtle hint of any skilled trackers. Another mile bought us to a natural opening halfway up the ridgeline. With scrambling we were able to climb up to it. The difficult access would give us some warning of enemies approaching, and we’d be under cover. Jake hunched over to enter the cave and collapsed onto the ground with a sigh of relief. He had lost some of the color in his face again. I suppose I should have taken into account that he’d had several rough days, but he had managed.
“Jake, do you have skills with any weapons?”
Light filtered through some branches in front of the cave entrance and scattered a strange pattern across his face. He shook his head, closing his eyes.
I nudged him with my boot. “I have to take care of something. You’ll need to be able to defend yourself if anything happens before I get back.”
“Okay. You can leave me your sword,” he mumbled, lids still closed.
I rolled my eyes. His chest was already beginning to move in slow, deep breaths. How had Tristan ever put up with training first-year guardians all those years? I moved closer, and when Jake didn’t move, I slapped him hard across the face. That worked.
“Hey!” He skittered back and rubbed his cheek, looking up at me in panic.
I pulled the knife from my boot sheath. His eyes flared with fear.
Good. A little adrenaline would help him stay awake. “Are you listening now? Stay on guard until I’m back. I should be here before it’s totally dark.” I tossed the dagger lightly in my hand and grasped the blade, offering it to him handle first. “Use this if you need it.”
He swallowed and nodded. “And if you don’t come back?”
“It means I’m dead. Follow this valley until you get to the pine forest near Braide Wood. Or go back to Lyric and ask Jameth and Tag for help.” I rubbed the back of my neck. His odds of surviving were equally bad either way, but I didn’t need to tell him that.
I stepped out of the cave and clambered the rest of the way up the rock face to the high ridgeline. I stretched, shoulders released from the weight of a pack, and started running. I stayed on the balls of my feet, but didn’t move as silently as I could have if speed were not such an issue. Twining branches reached out to grab me, and the rough terrain made my ankles buckle and recover several times as I landed on uneven roots. It didn’t take long to return to the grove of bitum trees. I circled around them from the high ground and then down to the valley again. The sky was fading from gray to slate as night approached, and it was already hard to see when I approached the place where I had first begun cutting open the trees. My eyes were keen enough to spot what I was looking for and hoped not to find.
On the tar that had covered the ground, two sets of footprints cast semi-hardened impressions. They weren’t the distinctive boot prints of Council guards, either. These were the light treads of Kahlareans.
We were being tracked.
Chapter
9
Kieran
Night crept inexorably forward while death slipped toward our hiding place on silent Kahlarean feet. I could backtrack and return to the cave from the upper ridgeline, but that would take too long. Instead, I wove between the dark trees and watched the soft marks in the sap. As soon as I was clear of the grove, I ran full out. The dim light masked their trail, but I assumed they were heading toward the shallow cave. Jake’s only hope was for me to reach the assassins before they found him.
Without slowing, I drew my sword, expecting to stumble across the Kahlareans at any moment. Leaves blurred past me as I ran, and my breathing settled into a steady rhythm. Sucking in air for four strides, blowing out for the next four strides as my feet pounded the earth. I looked for any sign of gray figures, but dusk turned the whole world gray. Tall bunches of underbrush could be sheltering an army of assassins. Slim boulders tricked the eye and resembled the cloaked figures of Kahlareans. Everything looked harmless and lethal at the same time. So I kept running.
When I reached the cliff face where Jake and I had climbed, I slowed and turned a complete circle. No sign of them. I tossed a stone upward, letting it clatter against the rocks above the cave. If Jake were still alive, he could peer out and give me a clue of how to proceed. Unless they were with him. I wanted to call out to him, but that would only attract the assassins if they hadn’t already found him.
I sheathed my sword so I could climb and wished I hadn’t left my dagger with Jake. I could have carried it in my teeth while climbing and had a weapon more readily accessible. No time for regrets now. I tossed one more rock and frowned as it clacked loudly against the rocks over the cave. There was no sign of movement, so I started climbing.
When I hoisted myself up to the small ridge of level ground in front of the cave, I drew my sword, relieved I’d made it that far. Still no sounds and no movement. I quickly searched the area around our hiding place, nerves wound tight as I waited for a Kahlarean to spring out. When that didn’t happen, I took a deep breath and stepped into the cave.
As expected, I found Jake’s body sprawled facedown on the ground, unmoving. My skin prickled with an awareness of danger. He clutched my dagger in one hand, but there was no sheen of blood on the blade. He hadn’t even managed a defense. I rummaged in my pack for a light cube and risked dialing up a small amount of light. Dark pools around his body that I had assumed were blood were simply variations in the stone floor. I rolled him over to look for wounds. A deep moan sounded from his chest. I jumped back a pace. I’d heard dead bodies make sounds before, but it was never a comfortable sensation. Chiding myself for my jumpiness, I stepped close again just as Jake’s eyes popped open.
We gasped in unison. His startled reaction turned to tired bewilderment. My own surprise transformed into rage.
“If you’re still alive, why weren’t you keeping watch?” I pushed the words through clenched teeth. For a moment his face flashed annoyance at being disturbed, but then his eyes traveled to the sword in my hand and back to my face.
“What happened?” he asked muzzily. He pushed himself up to sit and looked in surprise at the dagger in his hand, as if he’d forgotten it was there.
My knuckles popped as my fingers tightened to a stranglehold on the grip of my sword. My arm shook with the effort it took to sheathe my sword. I turned my back on Jake and left the cave. Everything in me wanted to pound his lazy, careless, annoying body to a pulp. His presence put me at extra risk, and he didn’t have the decency to obey the simplest of instructions. Didn’t he understand the danger we were in?
