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Jerin gripped his wife’s hand as they walked to the main assembly room in the Halls of Knowledge. Issah had sent his messenger bird to Denovo with a long letter describing the task he wished them to undertake. At first, Jerin thought it was a big joke.
“I still don’t understand why Issah wants me, of all people, to go...there. He knows how I...feel... you know...”
Carah shifted her pack so it hung over her left shoulder. “You’ve gotten better, Jerin. I’m sure Lotari requested you. Or maybe—” she shook her head, “—well, I’m not sure why either. But I’m eager to see Wilderland. I’ve heard so much about the ancient forest. I’m kind of excited.”
“Really?” Jerin tried not to roll his eyes. Evidently, his wife hadn’t heard everything about that place. “So you know about the sprites that weave webs to trap innocent travelers? If they catch you, it’s said they’ll suck out your soul.”
Carah’s grin widened as if he’d just told a hilarious joke. “Jerin, I’m sure—”
“Or about the giant ogres that smell like rotten meat? Trolls are living there, too. Have you ever seen what a troll can do in a battle?”
She stopped walking, jerking on his hand until he had to stop, too. “Of course, I have. The difference, my husband, is that we’ll be fighting with them, not against them. I like those odds so much better. And I’m honored they’ve agreed to allow us to enter their woods. I’m pleased to march into battle with them. We certainly do not deserve this honor.”
His snort was full of contempt. “Your sense of honor and mine differ on this matter, Carah.”
She stomped along beside him, her brows furrowing as she glared straight ahead. “I don’t understand you, Jerin of Yarholm. Here you are, finally promoted to Colonel, and you’re acting like you’ve been sent to the dungeons.”
“That’s another thing I don’t understand. Will Issah set me in charge of the creatures that will go with us to Wilderland? DezPierre will never consent to follow my orders.”
“Dez is with Alyra and Tarek. He left two days ago. I bet you didn’t even notice.”
Was that why he’d not had to dump dirt from his boots the past couple of days? That explained so much.
They reached the staircase that would lead them to the other side of the mountain. Jerin never cared for this part of the trek to the assembly hall. He still hadn’t forgotten that mysterious... thing... he and Tarek had encountered in the pitch-dark tunnel. At least now the gas lights worked. He hoped Tarek’s luminance had chased whatever it was away for good.
All the same, as they traveled through the arched passage, he kept one hand on the hilt of his sword, even if a metal weapon might not be effective against such a... thing. What had that shadowy thing been, anyway? A shudder ran down his back, and he decided there were some things that he was better off not knowing.
Carah had grown quiet. They reached the door that now remained closed and locked. Lately, nobody was allowed entrance without an invite.
He rapped on the thick wood.
The clank of the lock turning preceded the opening of the thick door. Jerin stepped back, keeping his hold on his wife with one hand, his sword in the other.
Most of the Curians were small, pale, and timid. But a handful of them stood above the rest. They were stronger, slightly larger than their kin, and fierce looking.
“State your business.” Captain Sirth said, his dark eyes flickering in the lamplight.
“We’ve been summoned by Issah, Prince of Alburnium.”
“Ah, very well. Enter.” He stepped aside and gestured for them to pass.
Carah went first. Jerin lingered a moment. “Is this really necessary?”
Sirth closed and locked the door. “We’ve discovered many of our most precious texts are still missing. Texts that contain some of our most protected secrets. I’m surprised these books were not brought along with those who escaped, but I suppose there wasn’t time to gather everything. Needless to say, we are endeavoring to estimate the possible damage those missing texts might cause.” He shook his head. “Well, we hope she’ll not completely betray us. But she is an outsider. What does she know about guarding our sacred books?”
“She...who?”
Sirth waved a gloved hand. He wore a broadsword and quiver on his back. Unlike the other Curians, the captain had been out in the sunlight more than his kindred. His face was a little darker and more worn than the others. “That... girl. The one who occupied the halls first. Katerina, I believe her name is.”
“Wait.” Jerin’s step faltered. “You mean Katrina?”
“I suppose that is the name she went by. She was born to a family of Clerics of the Supreme Words.” Sirth strolled along beside Jerin, while Carah silently walked a couple of steps ahead.
Jerin had no idea what that was, but from his tone, it sounded important.
Sirth continued. “They would have been the keepers of these sacred texts. Yet, the texts are gone, and so is the family. It’s assumed they were killed in the battle. Of course, we have Katerina, who should have been one of the casualties, and now we know she is not.”
Jerin’s steps slowed. “What are you saying? Kat’s parents are dead. I can find some townsfolk who helped take care of the remains of your fallen people.”
“Yet, one may question, if they had the foresight to send their daughter away, would they not have taken care of themselves, too? How are we to know who the remains belonged to?”
“Because,” Carah finally spoke up, spinning around to face the guard with a furious glare on her usually sweet face.
Uh oh, Jerin knew that look, though, and was glad it wasn’t directed at him.
“The Imagi-scope showed where her parents lay.” She took a step closer to Sirth, shaking her finger in his face. “I know what you all are thinking, and Katrina is not a traitor. There is not a traitorous bone in her body, I don’t care what it looks like.”
“What what looks like?” Jerin stammered, realizing this discussion just took a trip into the atmosphere, and he had no wings to keep up.
Carah’s hands perched on her hips as she continued to glare at the guard. “They are under the delusion that Katrina is turning against Shaydon because they’ve spotted her in Darnel’s study.”
“And dining with him,” Sirth added. “On several occasions.”
“Wait,” Jerin’s hands rested on his head. This was insane. “Wait... are you telling me they’ve been spying on her?”
“Spying?” Sirth spat. “We are monitoring the situation around the land, good sir. Because of our Imagi-scopes, we have been able to monitor what the leaders of the other cities are up to. Who they might be serving. And I might add, we used to have two of the scopes. One for the Northern Halls and one for the Southern Halls, but the other now sits on Darsiderus’ tower where he is also watching the goings on in this land.”
“Dar...who?”
Carah’s hand rested on his arm. “That is Darnel’s given name.”
Captain Sirth narrowed his gaze back on Carah. “And interestingly enough, one of the books missing is about his heritage. He won’t be able to read it, but Katerina will.”
He continued down the corridor toward the assembly hall, the implied accusation left hanging between them. “I fear the situation does not look good for your friend. If the evidence proves she is a traitor....” He let the sentence drop, but Jerin had no problem finishing the thought.
Katrina would be in deep trouble with her people. She might be ostracized and forbidden to ever return if they suspect her of helping the Dark One. Would they even need solid proof to banish her? Suspicion alone might be enough to cause them to act. And after everything she’d done to restore this place, to put her deceased clansmen to rest and to bring the remnant home. None of that would matter, would it?
Jerin’s fist clenched at his sides. Maybe Aly and Tare should have left them in that hole they were hiding in. Didn’t seem they’d learned their lesson at all. He glanced over at his wife who seemed as flustered as he felt. She gave a slight exasperated shake of her head.
Once they reached the massive meeting room, Sirth excused himself. Issah stood with Marcel and three Logorian men dressed in battle attire. Carah greeted the prince with a kiss on the cheek. Jerin shook his hand, then found himself pulled into a back-pounding hug.
“So happy to see the two of you again,” Issah’s arm draped across Carah’s shoulders. “Thank you so much for your willingness to help my friends in Wilderland. I know Lotari, especially, will appreciate your help since his most fierce fighter is away at the moment. You will ease his burden tremendously, Jerin.”
“Our pleasure, Sire,” Carah said. “We are packed and ready. I’m excited to see the ancient forest. Will any more of our warriors be coming along, or is it only us?”
“There is a band of Greenmen who wish help. And I will be sending more troops very soon. I need the two of you to travel ahead and prepare a place where they can stay until it’s time for everyone to move. Somewhere that will not disrupt the delicate structure of the woodland creatures.”
“I understand, Sire.” Carah gave a nod.
Jerin wished he understood. Maybe later, he’d get his wife to explain. Lotari had built a Meeting Hall. Why couldn’t the troops stay there?
Issah broke into his thoughts. “When you arrive, report to Lotari first. I suggest you go directly to him.” His hand rested on Jerin’s shoulder. “Will you send him a note letting him know you are about to enter the portal?”
With a quick nod, Jerin pulled his journal from his jacket pocket.
“You’ll need to find a place that will accommodate about five hundred warriors. I’m sending a few of my men with you. I want you to stay near them. Although Lotari has somewhat improved his people’s view of humans, the amount I’m sending might unsettle some of the inhabitants. Do not engage any resistance, Jerin. Allow Lotari or my men to take care of it.
“All I wish for you two to concentrate on is finding a safe place where your warriors can camp. Once the troops begin arriving, I’ll expect you to continue training and preparing them to march. There will be plenty of provisions to be gathered and stored in Wilderland.”
So, the creatures were just as distrustful of them as he was of them. At least the feelings were mutual. He’d do his best to avoid them, so long as they left him and his men alone.
“Sir,” Jerin asked. “Are you sure they will allow us to march with them?”
Issah nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.” Turning fully to Jerin he now placed both hands on his shoulders, so they were eye-to-eye. “Son, treat them in the same manner you would wish to be treated. You will be a guest in their land.
“I’m not going to tell you the Fae will welcome you with open arms. They will try you to see what you are made of. If you are as untrustworthy as they expect you to be. Don’t fall for their games, Jerin. Remember you are a Son of King Shaydon. You are in my service. You are a Colonel of your unit. Your men and the Wilderland Creatures will need to look upon you with respect, as you’ve looked upon your commander, General Marcel.”
Marcel was such a gentle leader. Quiet and reserved and never quick to judge. Even still, he was fierce and sure of who he was and what his mission was. Jerin’s back straightened, and he gave Issah a salute. “Yes Sir, I completely understand.”
Issah’s face broke into a smile that lit up his earthy brown eyes. “Very good. I have complete faith in you, Son. I know you will bring your troops safely through the woods and we’ll meet again soon before the gates of Racah.”
A quivering sensation went off in his chest. This was it. They were finally heading toward Racah to end the tyrant’s rule and hopefully save Katrina, Stitch, and Ethan. Still, Jerin hoped that rambunctious mule-headed centaur would escape before they reached the cursed mountains. He and Ethan had written a week ago that they’d made contact with Katrina, but nobody had heard any more news since then.
Focus. You have to keep your head on what’s ahead of you, not what the others are doing.
“Are you ready?” Issah asked, waving his hand over the fountain. A plume of water rose, creating an arched doorway.
“Wait! Issah wait!” All three of them turned to find Elder Rowel running toward them with a stack of books balanced in his hands. “For the good centaur, Lotari’s library. I did promise him.” The elder dumped the stack into Jerin’s arms. “I’ve been waiting until he returned to his Meeting Hall. Alas, his hooves have taken him elsewhere. So I’ve waited and hoped to catch someone heading his way.”
The ancient man had a mane of white hair that trailed over his rusty brown robes and a smooth beard that hung down to his stomach. “I have collected more, but I think that’s enough to get started with. These are extras that we have about the Fae, and maps of his forest, though they are quite old. Hopefully someday, when times grow quieter, perhaps the creatures will be good enough to update our information for us.”
Issah turned to Elder Rowel with a smile. “Lotari will greatly appreciate this kind gift. I appreciate your gesture at extending kindness to his clan.”
Elder Rowel seemed flustered under Issah’s praise. With a dismissive wave of his wrinkled hands, he wished them a safe journey, then returned to his quarters.
“Are you ready now?” Issah asked again.
“Please, Sir,” Jerin shifted the heavy weight of the books in his arms. “Before someone else shows up.”
With a hearty laugh, Issah moved his hands in an outward sweeping motion, as if pushing open a door. The waters parted. All Jerin could see over the books was green. Deep, dark green. As he followed his wife into the portal, the green sharpened and he noticed stone along the ground and tall walls made of vines reaching up on each side of them.
When they reached the other side, Carah took a few of the books from his hands, lightening his load and making it possible for him to better take in his surroundings.
The scent of rich earth mingled with a sweet scent he related to that of the White Tree. As he stepped from the low walled fountain and looked around, he spotted the large, blooming white-barked tree standing outside of what appeared to be a courtyard. Autumn leaves littered the ground, and the orange-hued carpet poured outside into the surrounding woods that hemmed them in like a protective barrier against the sky.
Never in all his travels had he seen such dense woods. Where would he ever find a spot for five hundred men?
The sound of clomping hooves drew Jerin’s attention. A small cry of excitement burst from his wife as she ran to Lotari and threw her free arm around his waist in a friendly hug. “We brought you a gift from the Elder. He says he has more, but this should get you started.”
“Books!” Lotari exclaimed, taking her burden. “How wonderful. Baycho! Esdra, they’re here,” he called over his shoulder.
Soon more centaurs, more than Jerin had ever seen, young, old, some looking like toddlers with a colt’s body, all surrounded them. The Logorians remained behind Jerin and Carah, like a protective barrier, but the centaurs seemed mostly curious and a few even somewhat friendly.
Lotari passed the books around to his clan, finally removing Jerin’s burden. Once Jerin’s hands were free, his old friend pulled him into a brotherly embrace. “So good to see you again, Jerin, my friend. I can’t tell you what a relief having you here is to me. I have the patience of the changing seasons to teach from a book, but none whatsoever when it comes to battle training. And we have so many recruits that wish to follow us to Racah. I feel the responsibility of training them as much as possible, and the weight has become crushing.”
Relief flooded Jerin. At least he had some experience training creatures of late. Some of his trainees, such as those from Jolly Orchard were to be the next to arrive. Issah planned to send men and creatures together so the Wilderland peoples wouldn’t feel they were being invaded by a hoard of human invaders. “I’m happy to help, Lot.” Patting the medallion resting against his chest, he added, “That’s what I do.”
Lotari’s hand remained on his shoulder. “And I hear congratulations are in order, Colonel Jerin.” He patted the new pin attached to the lapel of his uniform. “Nice. Should I salute, or are we good?”
Jerin shoved him away, finding it was like trying to roll a large boulder. “Hush mule.”
Lotari sobered as his voice lowered. “How many will Issah send?”
Jerin relayed the numbers he’d been given. The brown centaur’s eyes widened a moment. “I think I have a place where we can take them. But for tonight, you are my guests. You can sleep in the Greenmen’s camp. Come, let me show you around and you’ll dine with Esdra and me this evening.”
Jerin caught a flash of pure white, and for a moment he wondered if there were unicorns that dwelt at the Meeting Hall. But as the creature pushed his way through the crowd, Jerin’s heart stopped.
He almost grabbed for his sword before Carah quickly stilled his movements. “That is their leader. Do not move. Act casually and slowly drop your hand. We don’t wish to frighten any of them.”
Frighten them? Jerin’s heart raced. Those red eyes reminded him of the demented beast that had killed, no, slaughtered his soldier companions. Their large hands broke necks and ripped limbs from the men’s bodies. Their eyes burned as if fueled by coals. But as he got a better look at the clan’s leader, he realized his eyes were not the result of some potion, but rather because he was an albino.
Breathing out a calming breath, Jerin shot his wife a grateful look, glad she had sharp wits and knew him so well. What would he do without her? His helpmate and the other half of his heart.
“Talos,” Lotari said, positioning himself between them. The Logorians moved a little closer as well but did not move to reach for their weapons. “The first of our help has arrived. I’d like to introduce you to one of my dearest friends, Jerin, and his wife, Carah. Both of you, please come meet Talos, Esdra’s father, and our clan leader.”
Carah placed her hand on her chest as she bowed. Jerin did the same. Issah had said to treat them as he would like to be treated. “We are honored to be able to work beside you, Talos of Wilderland. I’ve heard so much about all the good you have done here. We come as humble friends to you and the other creatures of the forest.”
“Creature, huh?” Talos spat. “I see.”
Jerin glanced at his wife, then Lotari, fearing he’d already blundered and said something wrong. If only he knew what.
Talos glared at Lotari and jabbed a finger at his chest. “You keep them away from me and out of our affairs. Understand? You keep pushing the line, son. We don’t need a bunch of humans bumbling about and ruining all we’ve built here. I know the Meeting Hall is for everyone, but I heard the numbers you are expecting.” With each word, the leader’s voice rose. Esdra tried to interrupt. She patted her father’s arm, trying to calm him, but he seemed to ignore her.
“I’ve been quite generous. More than generous. I’ve agreed that we will march forth and join Issah’s battle against Racah. We must do this to preserve our lands and our people. But I do not understand why you insist on plaguing our pristine lands with... with...” His gaze traveled over Jerin and Carah but stopped at the sight of the stern-faced Logorians. “Well, just keep them away from my canyon and my clan. That is all.” Talos turned and galloped from the gathering.
Lotari grinned at his mate. “Well, that went better than I thought it would.”
Esdra reached over and squeezed his upper arm. “Yes, they are both still alive. This is good, my heart. Very good.”
