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Stitch remained in the cover of the woods for as long as possible. “Too bad we don’t have Tarek with us,” he mused mainly to himself since his companion still refused to speak to him. They’d circled the cursed city and moved northward toward the black mountains.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’d want Tare here with us?” Stitch glanced over his shoulder to find Ethan rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Aside from the fact that he’s a more pleasant traveling companion—” which was true, despite the disputes they’d had in the past, Tarek was generally up for anything Stitch would suggest. “Tare knew the mountains of Racah. He was a hunter, you know. For Darnel.” Why did that name always leave such a bitter taste in his mouth? He might as well drink the foul water of this land, it would leave the same distasteful bitterness on his tongue.
Stitch had given Ethan the choice to remain at their hiding spot and wait to be rescued. But something kept the youth from staying behind. He’d grumbled about Stitch’s idea, called it a horribly bad idea, and continued to list all the reasons his stupidly insane idea wouldn’t work. Finally, Stitch had ordered him to go back and wait for Issah. Ethan refused to leave him. Odd little Messenger man.
After several miles of listening to the Messenger running off his mouth, Stitch gave Ethan two options: either go back or keep his opinions to himself.
So, the lad had stopped speaking, yet continued to follow along, despite any reservations he might harbor. Perhaps oddness ran in the family. Little Miss had her own set of peculiarities.
After a few seconds, Ethan finally answered, his tone more subdued. “I recall him telling me about that.” He moved up to where they walked side-by-side. “Tarek was a good marksman and was always bringing in the game while we traveled to Drakensburg. He often wandered off on his own to hunt, despite my warnings to remain close to the path.”
Happy the lad was finally talking, Stitch decided to stay on safe topics for the time being. He didn’t have a solid plan for getting into Racah, which was another reason he wished his old buddy was there. There were rumors of s secret passage into the mountains, but he’d never been allowed near the city, being a creature. Which was why he’d been so glad that Ethan agreed to come with him, whatever his reason.
“Do you think we’ll come across any game in this part of the land?” Ethan asked. “We need to ration our supplies.” He shook his water bag. “I can’t get over this reservoir of water. But now that we’ve turned against what we were told to do, I’m not sure how long we’ll receive this provision.
Stitch’s hand went to his own nearly full bag that sloshed with the sweet liquid. He’d noticed the last time he’d taken a sip that it no longer topped the edge of the bag and spilled over when uncorked. He’d not wanted to mention that, fearing the Messenger would go off on another tirade.
He knew this would displease Issah, but something had to be done to help Katrina. Yes, Stitch knew the Prince and King both cared about her, but every day she had to remain in the cursed land was another day too long. She was so good. The best and most kindest out of the whole group, as far as he was concerned. Whenever he needed advice, she’d been there with her gentle, yet firm words. She’d never hesitated to set her work aside to help them out, and now she needed the help.
Something had to be done, and right now.
Whatever the costs. He only hoped it wouldn’t cost him a place in the good King’s kingdom. He didn’t think it would. Both King Shaydon and Issah were forgiving and kind. Stitch counted on their good graces and understanding. Hopefully, he wasn’t counting on it too much.
The trees thinned as the mountain loomed larger before them. Soon they reached the edge of the woods. Before them opened a wide patch of dry, grassy rolling land. The air was crisp with the coming of winter. If they continued in this direction, they’d be right out in the open.
Ethan let his pack slide off his back. “We need to camp here. I’ll go back into the woods and set some traps. While I’m at it, I’ll beg Shaydon to show us mercy, despite the fallacy of this endeavor. Maybe he’ll find it in his heart to grant us some favor. Though I’m not holding my breath.” From his pack, he removed a ball of string and a small ax. He motioned for Stitch’s bow and arrow. “May I? I’m a fair enough shot to possibly take something down for tonight’s dinner.”
Stitch handed him the quiver. Though his words were still jagged like broken glass, at least he was starting to form his plans. He liked Ethan’s practical nature. When it was aimed at helping and not trying to hinder, anyway. “When you get back, I’ll have a stew going. We still have enough to last us another few days.”
“No. Save it, centaur. We don’t know what we’ll face once we start making our way across to the mountains. I’d rather have a few lean days now than risk starving once we get there.” Ethan glanced around at their surroundings. “Why don’t you gather some of the wild grains growing in the clearing and see about making some of that bread you and Lotari are fond of.”
Stitch brightened. “Great idea. I’m really glad to have—”
“Save it, centaur. I’m not ready to take or give compliments. Not yet. Maybe not ever.” He strolled into the woods.
Fine then. Stitch did as the lad suggested and gathered enough of the wild grasses to make a good batch of cakes. He’d even found some roots and mushrooms, along with patches of mint to flavor the dough with.
A couple of hours passed as Stitch baked the flat biscuits on heated stones. Ethan didn’t return until near nightfall. When he did, he dropped a pheasant and squirrel down beside the fire.
“Nice. You even managed to get the squirrel through the head. Great shot.” Stitch made quick work of preparing the meat to cook over the low fire with his skinning knife.
Ethan dropped the quiver and bow beside him, then walked off a short distance and sat facing the mountain. “I saw signs of game. Hopefully, I’ll catch a rabbit or two by morning.”
“You don’t think we should get going and travel by night? The moon is almost full. That’ll help light our way.” Stitch saved the feathers for trading later on. Never knew when they might come in handy. Creatures loved wearing adornments, especially centaur females. He ignored the burning in his chest that the thought caused him. “Anyway, what do you think?”
Ethan leaned against an elm tree, pulling his knees up to his chest as he sipped at his water pouch. “I think we should stock up and start tomorrow night. We need a solid plan, centaur. I don’t wish to be traveling around aimlessly, hoping for the best.”
Stitch shrugged. “That’s always worked for me.”
Maybe it was a good thing the lad was facing away from him.
“Well, that’s not going to work for me.” He finally turned to face him. “I need to know your plan. How will we get into the city? I was thinking you might pretend to take me in as a prisoner. Like they brought my friend Dean into the city. That’s where he ended up running into my sister.”
Stitch hadn’t thought of that. He’d simply hoped to maybe find one of those rumored passages along the cliffs. But to travel right up to the gate? Would they recognize him anymore? “I don’t have the mark now. Shaydon removed it.”
Ethan’s shoulders slumped. “I forgot about that. They’ll want to mark us if we stay there. I wonder what they do to Messengers now that the dragon is gone?”
Would they kill Ethan the moment he stepped foot in the city? Stitch couldn’t let that happen. Trolls breath, but he’d not thought this through at all. The only thought he’d allowed in his mind was finding Kitten and getting her free. He’d not worked out the logistics of how to go about doing that. With a loud sigh, he turned the bird so the heat would cook the breast side. “It’s going to be a long night. We’ll need to draw out a map. Maybe Aly and Tare can help us.”
“Right,” Ethan chuckled. “Soon as my sister finds out what we plan to do, she’ll hop on one of those dragons and fly out here to beat us both senseless.”
Stitch rubbed at his forehead. There was that, too.
* * * *
Ethan woke to a bright morning. Blast! The sun was already high in the sky. How could the centaur allow him to sleep so late when they had so much to do?
The two of them had been up late into the night, working out a plan. At first, when Stitch wrote Alyra, she did threaten to have the dragon Crystal fly her back to Racah if they tried to step one toe in that cursed city. After a while, Tarek must have calmed her fears. He seemed to take their side on the matter, feeling the Curian needed to be rescued. Eventually, it was his handwriting that described with a map how to find the hidden passage the dwarves used to get into Racah. Bastion the dwarf, who had remained with Lotari, helped to clarify where exactly to find the entrance.
Ethan remembered the little man who’d recognized his sister as the Racan Princess and spread the rumor that she was royalty. Alyra had been furious, but it worked out in their favor as the faeries and pixies respected nobility. Their favor spread throughout the other creatures until everyone was at her beck and call.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ethan sat up to find the centaur fast asleep. What a lazy goat! His hand found a mound of dirt to hurl at the creature, pelting him on the shoulder. Stitch snapped awake, a dagger grasped in his hand, slashing left then right before he realized he wasn’t under attack.
“You shouldn’t scare a fellow out of sleep like that.”
Ethan hopped up, snatching his bedroll off the cold ground. “You shouldn’t be sleeping when I am, anyway, you daft mule-man.” He shook out the leaves and dirt, then rolled the blanket to fit in his pack. “You need to get that fire started. I’m going to go check my traps. It’s already late in the morning. We have a lot to do before we set out tonight.”
Stitch settled back against the tree. “We need more rest if we’re going to walk all night.”
Ethan shot him a furious glare. “We’ll take turns napping later this afternoon. Boil some water for tea. I’d like something to get the chill out of my bones soon as I return.”
Stitch muttered something, but all Ethan caught as he grabbed his gear and headed into the woods was something about bossy and bones breaking. He chose to ignore whatever mumblings the centaur had. No point in getting into any more arguments. From this point on, they either needed to work as a team or forget the whole deal. Stitch wasn’t going to turn back. And something in one of Tarek’s notes sealed the deal for Ethan, as well.
He’d admitted that he was supposed to be in charge of protecting the Curian, or Miss K, as he addressed her. But he’d run into the heat of battle, hoping to stop the onslaught of Racan soldiers. Katrina was captured. She gave herself up to protect the other women who were trying to hide her. Then when Alyra was running toward the portal to trade places with her, she once again sacrificed herself by destroying Darnel’s portal orb and going in Alyra’s place.
She’s as good and pure of heart as anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life. Tarek wrote. If there’s any way to save her from the hand of the Dark Lord, I beg you to go boldly and do what must be done. We’ll be along soon. I’ve heard that Issah is nearly ready to move. We’re gathering supplies for the march right now. Do your best and stay alive. We’re on our way. Tarek had written at the very last, followed by a short note from Alyra to not be stupid and wait for Issah.
Ethan told Stitch to write his sister back asking, “Like Dean was stupid to risk his life so you could escape?”
Eventually, she’d responded with, “Fine. Do what you must. Just be smart and stay alive.” She’d sent her love to them both before ending her final note.
Ethan strolled into the woods, keeping his ears tuned to every sound. The centaurs taught him a lot about living in the forest while he was in Wilderland. Every sound meant something, a warning of good or bad, the presence of game, or predator. They’d even taught him how to walk so he’d not make a racket with his thick boots. He could almost pass along the narrow footpath like a leaf on the wind. He checked the first two traps and came up with nothing. But the third held a rabbit, and the fourth had been tripped, though nothing was caught. He reset it. Before they left this evening, he’d check them again.
On the way back, he spotted a herd of deer but decided they would be too much to take care of in the short amount of time they had. He watched them a moment, mesmerized by their graceful beauty. Then one of the bucks, with a wide span of antlers rose his regal head with a snort. The others followed, each looking in the direction of Ethan’s camp. He listened harder, wishing his hearing was as sharp as theirs when he caught an odd sound. Laughter? The clicking of hooves and the clink of metal were followed by a piercing cry of pain.
The deer scattered. Ethan bolted for their camp, begging Shaydon that Stitch was all right. That the scream hadn’t come from the wily centaur. Before he reached their sheltered spot, a hand grabbed him by the back of his cloak and yanked him behind a tree.
“I could hear your pounding footsteps echoing through the woods.” Stitch hissed. “Now be quiet. I’ve taken down one, and intend to get rid of the rest before they realize what’s hit them.”
“What them?” Ethan whispered as Stitch aimed with his bow.
Through the thick growth of trees, he finally spotted the group of men dressed in dark leather and helmets of rusted metal. They were all out in the open, easy targets for Stitch who took down two more of the five before they started to retreat.
“Ready your sword,” Stitch grabbed his cloak at the shoulder and shoved him forward. “We cannot allow them to escape, no matter what. They’ll return and report us. Now go. There are only three left. We can take them.” Stitch bolted from his spot with a war cry.
Ethan unsheathed his sword and dagger and followed. Stitch managed to take down the retreating men. Ethan finished them off. He hated to ruthlessly take so many lives but knew if they’d had the upper hand, he would be the one bleeding on the ground.
Stitch soon returned, dragging one of the men whose black and silver uniform marked him as one of higher ranking.
“Maybe we do still have the King’s favor,” the centaur boasted, dropping the man at Ethan’s feet. “I have a new plan. Put on these clothes. You two are of the same build. I bet we can pass you off as a lieutenant. Perhaps that will be enough authority to keep people from asking too many questions.” He kicked at another man. “Good riddance, Herald, you back-stabbing tyrant. I warned you once you’d feel the steel of my arrow in your back someday. Today seems to be the day.”
Ethan stepped back, frightened over the centaur’s triumphant madness. The glint in the creature’s eyes disturbed him. Then he remembered that Stitch also had a tormented history in Racah, perhaps worse than his sister. Ethan swallowed down his trepidation and did as he was told.
Stitch grabbed two of the men by their feet. “I’ll hide this filth in the woods while you change. We need to hurry and get back to our hiding spot. Let’s hope their master isn’t watching their progress. The whole lot of them were from his special guard. I bet they were coming to collect Tarek from the city. Or make sure he was hung on the spot.” He spat on bodies. “Wait until ol’ Darnel realized Tare slipped from his grasp once again.”
His laughter followed him into the woods, leaving a trail of cold shivers running down Ethan’s back. What was he getting himself into? He sent up another plea to Shaydon, for protection and success, along with a plea to keep his companion safe, more from himself than from the enemy they were about to encounter.
