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“We need to find a place to hide our belongings,” Stitch removed his shoulder satchel where he carried the Ledge-o-graph and King’s Book of Letters. If he were caught with them in his possession here, they’d kill him on the spot. He couldn’t even keep his beautiful quiver and bow.
Ethan sat cross-legged on the ground, sorting through his pack and the one they’d taken from the Racans they’d killed. He wore the Dark One’s armor, so he looked the part. All except one thing, Stitch’s hand rested on his medallion. “That includes these.”
The lad’s eyes widened, much like his sisters did when Stitch suggested a new prank to play on one of their friends. But instead of laughing over the idea, Ethan hopped to his feet, fury reddening his cheeks. “Over my dead body. I’ll not part with Shaydon’s gift to me. How can you even suggest such a thing?”
Stitch’s hoof stomped against the hard earth. “We can’t very well waltz in there with the mark of Alburnium on us, any more than... oh, you don’t have a Racan mark. We’ll need to fix that too. Get my ink and quill, I’ll draw—”
“This is lunacy!” Ethan paced, pulling at his wild hair until it stuck up on each side of his face. “How did I allow you to talk me into this insane plan?”
Neither of them had bathed, or stopped more than a few hours for rest since they’d met with the band of Racans.
“You keep asking me that, but you keep following me, too. I’ve told you, at any time, you can turn your little self around and head back home if you don’t like my plan.”
Ethan’s hands fell to his sides. “Right. Every time I was about turn back, you’d swear you had figured out a way to get to the Curian. And if I was too much of a nelly, whatever that is, then you’d do it by yourself.” He shook a finger at Stitch’s nose. “You should join a performing troupe. You’re a very good actor.”
“Thanks.” Stitch beamed a wide smile. “If we live through this, I’ll keep that in mind.” His smile faded along with his last bit of humor. “Now are you with me or not? For the last time. If we’re going to fade into the people here, we have to look the part.”
With an annoyed huff, Ethan plopped back down on the ground and returned to his work of sorting. “Very well, centaur. But I’m not taking off my medallion. I’ll hide it, as my sister did hers. But I’ll not allow it to part from my body.” He set the leather book of the King’s letters into the satchel, along with a few items with his family name on them.
Stitch decided it was pointless to argue with the Messenger. He grasped his own medallion to remove it and found the task more difficult than he first anticipated. Moving a few steps away, he stared up at the dark gray castle towering over the woods where they hid. Tarek had been right about the secret dwarf passage. It had to be ancient from the way the stone steps were so worn and crumbly under his hooves. But they’d made the first trek which led them to a lake basin, filled by a cascading waterfall.
They decided to stop in this secluded area, hidden in the trees. Could this be the very waterfall that Little Miss went over with the dragon? The hide on his lower body trembled with the thought. How had she survived the fall, and managed to overtake Crystal?
He’d been born in Racah, though his mother was an outsider. They’d killed her for telling him about the King of the White City. His fist tightened around the medallion. Alyra had one when she fell over that waterfall. Had the token given her unknown protection?
How many close calls had he experienced himself since receiving this gift? His vision blurred. “I’m sorry. I hope you’ll understand. Please?” He blinked until the castle came back into focus. “They killed my... just because she believed in you. Our Katrina will not deny her beliefs. I love her, too. So much, I can’t... I just can’t.”
His heart raced as he pulled at the chain. Why was this so hard? “Please don’t turn your back on me. I’m doing this for her. We need her, Shaydon. We... I can’t.” The words burned his throat until he feared he might breathe fire like a dragon. “Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I’m...I’ll put it back on soon as this... I will. Promise. I... you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Well, aside from Lotari being taken prisoner in Denovo. And Kitten demanding they let me escape with them. She was the first to accept me. Don’t you see? I have to find her. I have...to.” He yanked the chain from around his head.
A cool breeze chilled the streams of tears flowing down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away before turning to Ethan and dropping the medallion into the bag without a second look. “We better get going. Should we hide the bag down here?”
Ethan stood, slinging the Racan pack over his back. He tucked his medallion into a pocket of his trousers.
If only Stitch was allowed to have something with pockets. But soon as Ethan turned him over to the guards, they’d strip him down, which was why he didn’t want anything of value on his body. Stock were only allowed a belt to strap their weapons onto. No pouches unless authorized and no packs unless they were carrying it for one of the human soldiers.
He tried desperately to ignore the feeling of hollowness that engulfed him as if he stood alone on a precipice with a bitterly cold wind blowing at him. It’ll go away, once your mind is occupied with other things.
“Wait,” Ethan halted him. “What about that cursed mark? And I’m out of water. What will we do about that?”
Stitch pointed toward the lake. “We’ll fill up there.” He folded his long legs and took the inkpot the lad had set out along with a narrow twig. He’d do his best to recreate the dark mark. If only his hands would stop their trembling. “Bare your right arm.”
“But the water—”
“Is still drinkable. Though it’s like swallowing...” He shook his head, searching for the right word, and eventually came up with, “bitterness. It’s like drinking bitter tears. You’ll get used to it. Just try to ignore the negative feelings. You know, think happy thoughts. Something.”
Ethan bent onto his knee, with his right side facing Stitch. “I’ll only drink a few sips when absolutely necessary.”
Stitch decided to not tell his little friend that everything here was tainted. The food, water, air... and the people.
It’ll be worth it. If we find her, all this will be worth it.
* * * *
The door to Katrina’s cell opened as Brie brought in a breakfast tray. Katrina set the book about Darnel on the bed next to where she sat.
“I’ve got good news.” Brie beamed a smile.
Katrina tried to hide her cringe. Was this the day Darnel would call for her to meet him? She wasn’t ready. She’d read through both books once, disgusted at his so-called twisted history book. But she’d returned to the one her people had written about Darsiderus the Halfling, with increasing fascination.
Such a sad story. His mother hid what he was when she gave him to a family of humans to raise. He looked more like his Logorian father and blended in well with regular people.
“What good news do you have, dear Brie? Do I get something besides the lumpy oatmeal today?”
Brie lifted the lid off the bowl with a slight frown. “Afraid not. But, you do get to go outside with me this morning. And it’s a nice sunny day without the normal gray haze.” Her smile returned. “Ol’ Ben said he received orders from his boss to allow you to get some sunshine. I’m to accompany you, of course, and I’m afraid you’ll have to be chained.” She glanced down at her own shackled feet. “But just while you’re out. When we return, Ben will take them off.”
Katrina considered the offer. It would be nice to break out of her little box. She’d been allowed to move around inside the jail, but Ben kept her tethered so she couldn’t run off.
“Where will we go?” Katrina moved to the stool and sat. The oatmeal was mildly warm. Someone had added a few blueberries, which was a pleasant surprise.
“Oh, just around here. And maybe....” She glanced over her shoulder and said in a quieter voice, “I’d like to go to my old home. Maybe pick up a few belongings I left behind.” Her gaze focused on other things in the room beside Katrina.
Should she ask her about her family? Admit she knew Tarek? Katrina was absolutely sure this was his mother. They resembled each other so much. But admitting... would it bring trouble? To Brie? Or herself?
If it were me, I’d want to know my son was well. But what about her husband? For the moment, Katrina ate her meal in silence while Brie rummaged through Alyra’s few dresses and brought out a comfortable pale green cotton frock.
“This will do well for our outing,” Brie said. “I’d suggest that you wrap a scarf around your head. Those strange markings are fading, but if someone gets up close,” Her head gave a slight shake, “Though I don’t reckon they will. Most avoid me to stay out of trouble.”
Alyra had the same story. People refused to speak to her or acknowledge her presence out of fear they might bring trouble to themselves. Even Ben complained that he’d had nothing but trouble from “that girl.”
“I think a walk will do me some good. It is rather stuffy in here, yes?”
Brie left her to finish breakfast and change. The dress looked like the ones the townswomen of Denovo wore. The skirt brushed the ground, the sleeves billowed to her wrists, and the neckline covered most of her neck. With her hair loose under a cream-colored scarf, she looked nothing like a Curian, but rather a young servant girl. The chains she’d have to wear would make her appear to be a trouble-making servant.
“Well, it’s not like I care to blend in here, or be accepted.” She tried not to ponder on the thought that once Darnel was done with her, he’d probably kill her as he’d done so many others of her kind.
Katrina drew in a long breath and straightened her back as she waited for Brie to return. She was ready to meet Shaydon in the Land of Everlasting. Whether she lived or died, she would be absolutely fine. She hoped that if her path lead to death, it wouldn’t be long or drawn out. “Let it be quick, yes?” she whispered.
Ben opened the cell door and motioned for her to follow him. A length of chain hung from his hand. “I best not regret this, little lady. You’ll be shackled to Ol’ Brie. I’ll warn you now if the two of you get any notions to make a run for it, you will be found. You’ll not get very far. His Majesty has guards camped all along the mountain trails. The old dragon’s haunt? It’s filled with soldiers and vicious creatures who will rip you apart for trespassing through their area.”
Katrina looked down as Ben locked the shackle to her ankle. They’d only have about two feet of chain separating them. Even if she wanted to, they’d not get far.
He stood, his dark wizened face inches from hers. “An’ iffen Brie tries one more time to escape, she’ll be killed. The king will make you watch, too. So, keep that in mind while you’re out on your little stroll.” Ben turned to Brie. “You make sure the two of you are back for the noonday meal. If I have to serve that ragged lot myself, it’ll cost you twenty lashes. Understand?” He shouted in her ear.
She cringed, nodding. “I’ll take her by the gardens. And I’ll stop by the vineyards, and see if any of my old friends are still there. Perhaps they’ll show me a bit of kindness, which I can pass on to you.”
Ben’s glare softened a little. “You do that. I been dry coupla days now.”
When he turned to storm away, Brie muttered, “I can tell.” She rolled her eyes, then hooked her hand around Katrina’s elbow. “Let’s try to walk together, so the chain won’t trip us. If we stay close, it’ll be harder to tell it’s there under our skirts.”
They fell in step, and by the time they were several feet from the prison door, they’d found a rhythm to their steps. Brie spoke little, except to point in the direction they were to take. She often walked with her eyes closed and face tilted up toward the sky, allowing Katrina to watch for any obstacles along the well-worn path which led them behind the towering castle into a sloping valley.
From their perspective, Katrina had a clear view of the servant’s homes, such as they were. Tiny huts, some no more than sticks tied together and covered with pine branches. Lower in the valley sparse gardens grew, the only green in an otherwise brownish world. Even the trees seemed on the verge of dying. The sight caused Katrina to miss her beautiful mountains even more. “Oh... it’s worse than I...”
“This place...” Brie shook her head. “It was better than the last town we’d lived in. Our last home lay on the edge of the desert and we were practically starving. My husband and children thought we were much better here. Well, at first, anyway. Then ... things started to happen.”
Katrina turned to the woman, her face was lined with worry perhaps? Concern? Her green eyes were downcast and faded along with the color in her hair. She was almost like a ghost. Katrina wondered what she’d been like before life wrung her dry.
“Your son fell in love with the princess, yes?” Katrina whispered.
Brie’s eyes flew open as she gasped and turned to her. Her mouth formed an O, but no words managed to flow out.
Katrina continued. “He fell in love and urged you all to leave. Did he not? But I suppose, when your stomachs are full, and you have shelter, it’s hard—”
“Olden didn’t think we could do any better than here. We managed, though having full bellies only happened on occasion. How do you know—?”
Yes, the woman needed to know. “I’ve had the honor of meeting your son, Tarek. He was a tremendous help to me. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but he’s extremely gifted, in many aspects.” She stared at the woman pointedly.
A tear slid down Brie’s wrinkled cheek. “I was sure that would get him killed if anyone found out.” Her face crumpled as she buried her cries in the palms of her hands. “He’s still alive? Is he?”
“Yes.” Katrina hugged the woman in her arms. “He is pledged to King Shaydon now. And Alyra, whom I suppose you would know as the princess, found her real family. They both serve Shaydon. They are a mighty force together, yes! But you mustn’t let anyone know, Brie. No?”
She wiped the edge of her scarf over her damp face and nodded. “That girl, she’s like him, isn’t she? I know’d she had a medallion, too. The medallion offers certain protections, it does.”
“Interesting how exceptionally knowledgeable you are about the White Tree people.” Katrina threaded her arm around Brie’s, and they continued to walk.
Brie glanced over her shoulder again and finding they were still alone on the road, admitted. “I was born to the White Tree folks. But I... well, I’ve made some foolish choices in my life. Paid for them, too.”
Katrina patted her hand. “King Shaydon is a forgiving ruler. When Issah comes to—”
“What?”
They stopped walking again. Katrina realized she still needed to be careful about what she spoke of here. To tell Brie about her family was one thing. To speak of Issah’s plans, another.
“My apologies. I forgot for a moment where we were. Being outside again, after so long, feels so freeing, yes? It loosened my tongue. I should not put you at risk by telling you more than necessary. I only wished to let you know that your son is alive and safe. He’s a kind gentleman. You raised him well.”
The tears flooded her eyes again but didn’t spill down as they did before. “Tarek was a good’un. My younger one, Vesia, was more stubborn like her daddy. Sassy and full of spit and fire. I’m glad she escaped with Olden. I hope they made it. I don’t even know.” Her voice broke as she pressed the scarf to her mouth.
“They did, Brie. I’m not sure where your daughter is. I know Tarek had an idea of her location. But... there is some unpleasant news I have. Can you bear it?”
For a couple of minutes, Brie remained silent. Finally, her resolve seemed to turn to stone as she gave a quick nod. “The only one who you haven’t said is safe would be my husband. In the back of my mind, I’d always thought I would lose him in a bar brawl, or someone he owed a debt to would kill him. Is that about the gist of it? Not sure I can stand any grim details.”
“I don’t have specific details. I only know that when Tarek helped the creatures of Wilderland fight against Darnel’s henchmen, your husband was there with him. Sometime during the battle, he was killed. Tarek buried him.”
Katrina hugged Brie’s arm as they walked along in silence. The woman kept the cloth pressed hard against her mouth. Her shoulders trembled, but no words or sounds escaped. Brie’s intense gaze stayed focused on the road ahead. Katrina’s heart broke for her new friend. She wanted to cry for her but didn’t. Instead, she walked close beside the woman while a torrent of emotions battled just under Brie’s steel facade.
They came to a row of wooden cottages. This group was better than some she’d seen earlier. Brie dabbed once more at her face as she stopped before the corner home but made no move to approach the door. A cluster of children ran around outside. They froze in place, gaping at them before the oldest shouted, “Papa!”
The door swung open as a thick-set man barreled out. “What are you doing here? Traitor to the King! Begone with—”
“Hush, Gerald,” ordered a quieter voice from within. “She only comes for this.” The woman ran out, a cloth bag in her hands. “I’ve saved what I found. I hope it is everything, you poor dear.” The woman offered Brie a quick hug, then gripping her shoulder, said, “Stay safe. Perhaps someday he’ll find forgiveness and desire your wonderful tarts and desserts again. We miss you.”
Brie draped the strap of the bag over her shoulder. “As I do you. Thank you.”
The woman turned to Katrina. “Is this your Vesia? I don’t recall—”
“No.” Brie quickly answered. Grasping Katrina’s wrist with her free hand, she pulled her along after her. “Thank you, Masal.”
They seemed to have some sort of silent dialog between them as Masal offered a nod and then walked to her house without another glance toward them. By the time they reached the end of the row of houses, the children returned to their game, and the man no longer stood on the front stoop, glaring at them.
“Let us go get Ben his mead,” Brie suggested. “If we return a little early, with a gift, he’ll be more willing to allow another outing again soon. The best way to earn favor here is to work hard doing what they tell you. Without complaint or arguing. So long as you don’t cause mischief, they prefer to just forget you exist. Then you’re more free to do as you please.”
So that’s how she’d survived here all these years? By being as invisible as possible.
Katrina feared that wouldn’t be an option for her.
