Taste Of Darkness. Maria Snyder V.
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the boys, I didn’t need to say a word. Flea and the monkeys’ expressions of sad acknowledgment spoke volumes. We huddled together around the communal campfire and exchanged information. I told them about my adventures at HQ.
“I’m not surprised she’s being aggressive,” Loren said. “I think Cellina’s been planning to take control of Tohon’s army from the beginning. Tohon didn’t know about her sister, did he?”
“No, and Wynn claimed she hated him, and Cellina did sic her pack of dead ufas on Tohon,” I said.
Talking until midnight, we batted a few ideas around, but no one had any more insight into Cellina’s plans. Tired from seven days on the road, I spread my bedroll near Flea’s.
“Can I talk to you in private?” Flea asked in a whisper.
“Sure.” We moved away from the fire.
“There’s a patient I’ve separated from the rest,” he said.
“Why?” Flea’s serious tone scared me more than the secrecy.
“There’s something wrong with him.”
“You should have told me right away. Where is he?” I demanded.
“He’s not critical. He’s in another cavern. It’s just...”
“What? Flea, spit it out.”
“I think he has the plague.”
KERRICK
Kerrick didn’t know how long he lay on the forest floor. Energy returned to him in small frustrating increments. He’d only been gone from the forest for a few minutes and it had sapped all his strength and magic. Which was the opposite of how his magic worked before he’d gotten sick. Now he needed to use his power to leave the forest and to turn his skin back to its original tan color.
You are of the forest, the living green had said to him. Alive like trees and plants.
Those words scared him. Did they mean he was confined to the forest, rooted there like the trees? Was that the price for his life? He hoped not. Perhaps he just needed to regain his strength. After all, he’d been unconscious for weeks.
When he felt better, he pushed to his feet. Flea’s message had been terse. Bag in sticky pine. Kerrick smiled, remembering how Flea hated to get sap on his hands. Quain had teased him, saying that as an ex-thief Flea should be used to sticky fingers. The boy had stared at Quain through his long bangs and replied, “Who said I’m retired?”
Kerrick found his pack shoved into the bushy branches of a white pine tree. Needles stuck to the material, and a squirrel had chewed on the leather straps. Most of his clothing, along with his weapons, money pouch, and boots had been stuffed inside. Only one shirt was missing. His dadao sword had been wrapped in oiled skins and hung from a branch.
The setting sun had cooled the air. He dressed quickly, wrapping his short black cape around his shoulders. His clothes turned the colors of the forest as soon as he donned them. Handy. A quick check confirmed his lock picks remained in place. Flea had also included jerky, travel rations, and a note. Kerrick built a small fire. Gnawing on a piece of jerky, he read Flea’s letter.
Kerrick,
If you’re reading this, then me and the monkeys are wrong and, boy oh, boy, I’m going to be so happy to be wrong! We all believe you’re dead (again—you really need to communicate better if you’re not), so does Prince Ryne, but Avry refuses to accept it and I guess she’s right if you are indeed reading this.
A warmth spread throughout his chest. Avry had faith in him. Kerrick hoped she held on to it and hadn’t changed her mind. He hated to think he’d caused her any more pain.
Avry asked me to write this note. She’s gone with Sergeant Odd to Prince Ryne’s new HQ. I’ll write the location below in our old signals just in case this gets into enemy hands. Those raccoons can be devious when they want—ha-ha. Me and the monkeys are headed with the rest of the infirmary staff and patients to our new location (written below) where we’re supposed to meet up with Avry sometime.
I say ‘supposed to’ because you know Avry. She already disobeyed orders by searching for you after Prince Ryne called it off. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to keep searching and not join us until she’s done. Plus Prince Ryne was really keen on her going to HQ so he might have a special mission for her there. She was all pissed off about it so he’ll have his hands full—ha-ha.
I really really hope you are reading this letter! I have this magic now and it’s awful. I don’t want it. Have you ever felt that way? Probably not since your forest magic is useful. There’s nothing useful about death.
Flea
Kerrick reread the letter. This time picking up on what Flea didn’t write. A friction between Ryne and Avry? Or an attraction? Jealousy flared for a moment before he squashed it. Avry refused to believe he died. That meant a lot. He returned to the note.
Was Flea a death magician now? Too many questions without answers. He read the locations and debated his next move. Travel to HQ or south to Grzebien? Ryne wouldn’t separate Avry from her patients if he didn’t have a good reason.
What would be the quickest route to Avry?
Through Ryne.
He finished his jerky and doused the fire. With his deeper connection to the forest, traveling in the dark wouldn’t require as much energy as before. One benefit to his new...what? Situation? Magic? Existence? Prison? Better than the alternative—death. And as Flea said: There’s nothing useful about death.
* * *
Two days later, Kerrick crouched at the edge of the forest, studying the activity around the town of Victibus. At first glance, the town resembled any other small town struggling to recover from the plague years. Yet small clues hinted that not all was as it seemed. No children ran through the streets. Everyone walked with a purpose and didn’t amble or gather in groups to chat.
A large factory attracted the most activity. Ryne’s HQ, no doubt, and it explained why he couldn’t detect either Ryne or Avry in the surrounding forest. During the last couple of days, he’d experimented with his range and discovered his ability to sense living creatures reached about five miles.
But right now Kerrick had to figure out how to reach Ryne. He didn’t have enough energy to go that far from the forest. But would Ryne believe him if he sent a note? No. Frustration boiled. Kerrick needed to find someone who recognized him and would take a message to Ryne.
It sounded easy enough, but only after checking every single patrol for three days did he see a familiar face around midafternoon. Too bad he couldn’t remember the guy’s name— just that he was a sergeant and had helped Avry escape from Tohon in Zabin. A prince in Kerrick’s opinion.
Kerrick rushed to intercept the squad. Not hard to do, but he scared them when he appeared without any warning. They yanked their swords out and formed ranks. At least he remembered to pull enough power to turn his skin, hair, and clothes normal.
He held his hands out, showing them he was unarmed. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I’m in need of assistance and don’t have time for niceties. I need you to take a message to Prince Ryne and Healer Avry.”
“And I need a vacation and a purse full of gold coins, but that ain’t gonna happen,” one of the men quipped.
Turning to the sergeant, he asked, “Surely you recognize me? I’m Prince Kerrick.” Ugh, he hated using his title. “I believe you were in the infirmary cave when I arrived with Avry, Loren, Quain, and Flea. Remember?”
“I also remember you disappeared and the major ruckus it caused. Why can’t you take the message to them yourself?” the sergeant asked.
Good question and one he’d prepared for. “I’m a forest mage