Dragonsbane (Book 3) (3 page)

He was incredibly thin, with a lank mop of hair and eyes like pits. Angry waves of red and orange billowed up behind him. Screams rode the ash-thickened air, drifting in from the village below.

Gilderick smiled — as if he could feel the terror that gripped Kael’s chest. Hundreds of shadows gathered behind him. They were taller than men with eyes that burned white-hot. Their arms and chests glistened with the wet blood of the villagers.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Gilderick’s lips didn’t move, but Kael could hear his voice in the depths of his ears — as if it’d spoken from within him.

“Come with me,” Gilderick whispered. “And don’t worry about your friends … they can come, too.”

His pitiless gaze swept over Kael’s shoulder, and he saw his friends had gathered behind him. Their bodies were shadows; their eyes were white and lifeless. He screamed as their arms wrapped about him, but they didn’t stop.

Lysander and Thelred pulled down. Aerilyn kicked the legs out from under him. It was Kyleigh who grabbed him by the roots of his hair and jerked his head back — forcing him to lock eyes with Gilderick.

“This will only hurt a moment.” His gaze widened, coiling around Kael’s soul. “Yes, little Wright — with your strings in my hand, I’ll bring the Kingdom to its knees!”

*******

A loud gasp startled Kael from his sleep. He choked against the lingering panic of the dream. It took several moments of deep, steady breathing to calm the thudding of his heart.

The room was dark and still. The small fire had burned down to a few feeble coals. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the shadowy forms of the pirates scattered all around him. He watched their burly chests rise and fall with their snores. When he was certain they were all soundly asleep, he stood.

He’d packed his rucksack a few nights ago. The giants had given them so much food for the journey home that he was certain nobody had noticed his pilfering. He had enough food stashed to travel for a few weeks.

After that, he’d be on his own.

A common room littered with the bodies of sleeping pirates blocked his path to the front door. He had to pick his way across them, slipping between bedrolls and rucksacks as he crept towards the door. He was nearly there when he accidentally stepped on a creaky plank.

It squeaked loudly beneath his boot. He waited, breathless, listening to the grunts and snores. When he was certain nobody had heard, he eased his boot off the floor.

The plank creaked again.

Kael’s lips moved in silent swears as he skipped over the last of the pirates and went for the door — which moaned like a northern wind when he opened it. He shut it as quietly as he could, hoping to mercy that the pirates slept on.

A plat of mud and filth wrapped around the inn like a moat — a large pigsty that gave all of Frome’s Refuge a very distinct stench. Kael crossed the narrow planks of wood that hovered over the reeking mud and jogged for the cover of the trees.

He felt strange as he ran beneath the shadows … lighter and heavier all at once. He knew he was doing the right thing. In fact, he was certain of it. So why did his legs fall so heavily? Why did his boots scrape against the ground? It was strange how something right could still leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

“What in blazes are you doing?”

Kael was so startled that he leapt sideways into a tree. “Kyleigh!”

Her blackened armor hid her well in the shadows. But he could tell by the tone of her voice that she was glaring. “So I’m not allowed to leave
you
without telling, but you’re allowed to leave me. Is that how it works?”

There was no point in asking her how she’d known. No matter how careful he was, she always seemed to be at least two paces ahead of him. “I have to do this.”

She raised a brow. “Really? You
have
to sneak off in the dead of night and leave all your friends wondering what’s become of you?”

“Yes. They can’t know where I’ve gone.”

“I think they’ll be able to guess.”

“I killed one of the Countess’s agents,” Kael said through his teeth. “I think she knows what I am and even if she doesn’t, Gilderick
certainly
knows — he knows everything.” Anger bubbled up at the memory: Gilderick sitting inside his head, thumbing through the whole story of his life as if he’d had every right to it. Kael took a deep breath. “I don’t know what all he learned, but he could very well know what I plan to do next. And if that’s the case, he could easily follow —”

“Or he could be dead.”

He wasn’t. Kael knew in his heart that a snake like Gilderick wouldn’t die so easily. But he couldn’t explain this to Kyleigh. “Even if he’s dead, what about the Countess? How long before she sends her army after me? If she tells the King …” Kael ran a hand through his hair, fighting against all the many little worries that crawled up his stomach, trying to stuff them back into the depths. “We had a slim chance against Titus, but we can’t face Midlan. I won’t be the one who brings the rulers down upon us. The pirates will be safe in the Bay. The giants can take care of themselves. As for me,” he met her eyes, “I’m going home.”

“Kael —”

“I won’t change my mind. Scold me all you want, but you know this has to happen.”

After a moment, she looked away. She turned to stare up at the gaps of sky between the branches, her face unreadable. “I know,” she said heavily. She reached beside her and pulled a rucksack out of the brush. “That’s why I went ahead and packed.”

That was the absolute last thing he wanted. “You aren’t coming with me.”

“You can’t stop me.”

He glared at her. “If you come along, Shamus will follow. You know he will.”

“I’ve already taken care of it.”

Kael eyed her warily. “What did you tell him?”

“That you and I are running away together, of course,”
she said with a smirk.

He hoped the shadows would mask the sudden burn in his face. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well, it was the truth.”

“
Well
, now he thinks we’re —”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. That man would’ve followed me to the far corner of the Kingdom without a second thought. Now he won’t. I told him it was an absolute secret,” she added with a grin. “Which should give us a few months to gallivant around the Kingdom in private —”

“
Kyleigh
!”

“What?”

“This isn’t a game.” He dragged a hand down the side of his face, concentrating on the pressure of his fingertips to keep his voice even. “I left the mountains to find an army. That was my only task, and I’ve failed — I’ve failed Tinnark, and I’ve failed Amos and Roland. Now half the realm knows what I am and I’ve got no choice but to run, empty-handed, to the one place in the Kingdom where I won’t be followed. You came looking for me because you thought I could help you destroy the Five.” His hands fell away. “I’ve got nothing to offer you, Kyleigh. Not anymore.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Are you finished?”

“Finished with what?”

“All this moping and slumping about.”

“I’m not —”

“You are. And speaking as someone who’s been in trouble on more than one occasion: there’s always a way out. Don’t give up just yet.”

“How can I not? I’ve lost everything.”

“Not quite everything — you’ll always have me.”

Though he fought it fiercely, a reluctant smile bent his lips. “Yes, whether I want you or not.”

She laughed, and his face burned again … though this time for an entirely different reason.

Apparently, Kael hadn’t shut the inn’s door as well as he’d thought. He heard the far-off screech of its hinges and a loud
bang
as it slammed against the wall.

Kyleigh pulled him away before he could look back. “Let’s go.”

So he followed her into the night, leaving Frome’s Refuge and his friends behind him.

Chapter 3

Oakloft

The next few days passed by in relative calm. Kael found himself on a boat once more, surrounded by the quiet of the seas.

They traveled with a small fleet of merchants bound for the Grandforest. Crates filled with wares from the seas littered the deck, each one marked for trade. The sailors were pleasant enough, though they were far tamer than the pirates: there were no rowdy ballads, water was served alongside their salty dinners, and the lanterns went out obediently at nightfall. Still, Kael couldn’t complain.   

Once he’d proven that he knew his way around a ship, the merchants were happy for his help. The helmsman even gave him a few hours at night to steer … and these were the hours he dreaded most.

It was in the quiet watches of the night that Kael’s thoughts turned to Tinnark.

For so long he’d had to keep his village at the back of his mind. There’d always been something else at hand — a task he had to finish, an obstacle he had to overcome. He hadn’t allowed himself much time to worry over Amos
and Roland. He’d had to push his anger aside.

Now there was nothing in his way. Now when he looked up, the mountains loomed a few paces ahead. He could see their ice-crusted peaks, he could imagine that Titus and his army was hidden somewhere among them. He saw the shadows their ironclad bodies cast against the rocks …

But he couldn’t reach them.

It was such a horribly constant occurrence that he ought to have considered it a gift — for Kael was certain that no man in the history of bad luck had ever had a more endless streak than his. Only
he
could’ve stood so close to the thing he wanted and somehow have been further away than ever. Only
he
could’ve spent seasons gathering an army to have it ripped away at the last.

You’re doing the right thing
, he told himself.

But why did the right thing always have to rear its head in such a difficult place? Though it was comforting to know that his friends in the lowlands would be spared a battle for the mountains, it made his stomach churn to think that Titus would go on ruling simply because there wasn’t a force in the realm powerful enough to stand against him.

Kael supposed it was only in stories that good overcame evil. Perhaps in the real Kingdom, men had to choose between what they wanted and what was truly best. Had he known what was best, he would’ve gladly done it. But the future was as shrouded and quiet as the seas. For now, his heart was his only helm — his guide across the dark and to the distant hours ahead.

One of those hours would see the dawn break over his choice to leave his friends behind. Only then would he be able to see if he’d chosen well.

*******

One morning, just as the mist began to rise, Kael saw they were close to land. The helmsman emerged and sleepily waved him from the wheel. “This bit is tricky,” he muttered as he turned the ship towards the trees.

A vein of sea slipped between the shoreline and became a wide river. At the captain’s orders, the merchants drew oars from below deck and put their backs into paddling. The river’s waters flowed lazily, but the current still slowed them.

For an hour or so, the banks sat far enough apart that it was like being in the middle of a lake. But the further the boat cut into land, the narrower the river became.

Trees hemmed the water on either side. Their trunks were thick and their branches stretched across the river, meeting and twining together in its middle. The canopy of new leaves that sprouted from their skin blotted out the sky — only shreds of morning light made it through their wall. But as enormous as the trees were, their roots were the most dangerous part.

They stretched out from the walls of dirt at the river’s edge — knotted vines that were nearly as big around as Kael’s waist. They sank into the murky water and disappeared, only to pop up again a few feet later, their knots covered in moss.

Kael kept a wary eye on the roots as they snaked in and out of the river. He knew they would be every bit as unforgiving as sharp rocks. If the helmsman strayed too close to the shore, those knots would chew through the bottom of the boat and drag them into the murky depths.

“I hate this place,” the helmsman muttered. His knuckles were white about the wheel as his eyes shifted up to the trees. “Blasted cursed, it is. There’s no sky, it’s too quiet. We haven’t even made port yet and we’ve already picked up a ghost!”

Kael tried not to roll his eyes. The merchants had been going on for days about how their boat was haunted. A few lids had been pushed off some of the barrels; something had gotten into a cage of chickens. Every once in a while, they’d find bits of bone lying around. But instead of blaming it on the rats like any normal crew, they’d immediately claimed it was a ghost.

“The forest holds them back,” the helmsman went on. “When a man dies, his spirit’s supposed to float free. But they can’t float out of the forest. They get stuck — tangled up there.” He pointed to the thick canopy above them. “Sometimes its years before they pull themselves out. Sometimes its hundreds of years. And in the meantime, they haunt the living realm. Are you sleeping in the woods tonight?”

“I was considering it,” Kael said, his mouth suddenly dry.

The helmsman’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Well, I don’t have to tell you, then. You’ll hear it for yourself when night falls.”

Not surprisingly, that didn’t make Kael feel any better about the journey.

He looked away from the trees and saw that Kyleigh had emerged from below deck. Her rucksack lay in a heap upon the floor and she was slumped miserably over the railing, head buried in her arms.

“We’re nearly there, thank Fate,” she muttered when Kael stepped in beside her.   

Poor Kyleigh. He wished he had one of Amos’s tonics with him. It might’ve tasted foul, but it would’ve helped to calm her stomach. “How did you know we were close?”

She turned and pressed her back against the rails. Little sunspots drifted across her face and neck, igniting her eyes in a fiery green. He was sorry when she closed them.

“Those blasted waves had stopped knocking us about, so I knew we’d reached the river. And if we’ve found the river, then Oakloft can’t be far ahead,” she murmured, her voice a little rough. “Try not to think too much about that old helmsman’s tales. He’s just trying to get the better of you.”

Kael hadn’t realized she’d heard. “I wasn’t thinking about them.”

“Oh?”

“No. In fact, I’d already forgotten.”

She smirked, but didn’t reply.

They fought their way up the river for another hour or so, until the banks became treacherously narrow. Kael’s toes curled tightly and the merchants’ voices grew louder as they navigated their way around one final turn. At last, they popped free.

The current slowed considerably as the river widened. The banks stretched further apart, giving them plenty of room to steer. From above, Kael imagined it must’ve looked like a swollen lump inside a snake’s belly.

The trees drifted back and little houses cropped up along the shore. The houses were short and squat, their beams carved from the branches of enormous trees. Many of them looked to be rather old, as well: their walls were covered in leafy vines and thick carpets of moss blanketed their roofs.

There was a small clump of docks in the thickest part of the river. Several boats already bobbed at port, their decks either being emptied
or filled. A few of the merchants from the seas were dressed in blue tunics with a gold serpent etched upon their chests.

“Why are they still wearing Duke Reginald’s emblem?” Kael wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure. It’s probably just some sort of disguise. If news of the Duke’s death hasn’t reached the Grandforest yet, I imagine Chaucer wants to keep it that way.” Kyleigh watched them for a moment more before she casually drew up her hood. “Still … I think we ought to slip out of town quickly.”

Kael agreed.

They were taking the longer route to the mountains: through the Grandforest’s many winding roads and into a pass marked as King’s Cleft on his map. It would lead them closer to Midlan, but Kael would take his chances. He wasn’t going to risk going through Bartholomew’s Pass again.

“We’ll meet in the woods outside of town,” Kyleigh said, and he nodded absently.

They’d decided it would be best to separate rather than travel through Oakloft together. Of all the Sovereign Five, Countess D’Mere was the most mysterious. The others had all had some reputation of cruelty or greed. There’d been no doubting what they were. But the Countess was different.

She traveled freely through her region, usually in a carriage and with only a handful of guards. She spoke with her people directly. She stayed at inns and often invited common folk to dine at her table. Three of the merchants he sailed with claimed to have kissed her hand. Everywhere he turned, Kael got the same answer: Countess D’Mere was as just
as she was beautiful.

And yet, people had a nasty habit of disappearing in the Grandforest. Anyone who opposed the Countess would undoubtedly vanish — only to turn up a short while later, having died from some unfortunate accident. There was never any proof that she was responsible, of course. Most wrote the accidents off as bad luck, or blamed them on competing merchants. But Kael wasn’t so sure.

He remembered D’Mere’s icy gaze all too well — the cold indifference with which she’d watched him beaten. Her agent, Holthan, had stalked him for hours unseen. He’d been incredibly strong, as well: it was only by sheer luck that Kael had managed to escape his grasp.

Now Holthan’s body lay burned along with Gilderick’s army. The Countess had probably figured out what had become of him. There was no way Kael could hope to pass through her region unnoticed.

He expected her spies to be watching him — from the moment he stepped off the boat, until he ducked into the shadow of the mountains. Kael was counting on it. In fact, he wanted D’Mere to see him. If she knew he was in the Grandforest, she wouldn’t send her agents to the seas.

And his friends would be safe.

The sailors lowered the ramp and Kyleigh slipped past them without a word. Kael had gone to follow when the helmsman grabbed his arm.

“You’re headed north, aren’t you? You look like you’ve got a little mountain blood in you,” he muttered, his eyes flicking to the top of Kael’s head. “Listen closely now, lad: spirits aren’t the only trouble in these woods. Word is that merchants have been disappearing along the northern paths. There’s a swamp up that way — a cursed, festering mound of filth and sick. They chased all the barbarians into it a couple of decades back. Wanted to get them clear of decent folk —”

“I’ll be careful,” Kael said shortly. He knew if he stood there a moment longer, he was in real danger of knocking the helmsman’s teeth through his lip.

“Half of the caravans headed to the Valley don’t make it,” he called as Kael marched down the ramp. “They find the bodies later … all pale and torn to shreds, not a drop of blood left in them. If you ask me, it sounds like the barbarians are starting to leak out of the swamps. Everybody knows they can’t resist the taste of human flesh.”

It sounded to Kael as if
everybody
knew nothing. Heated words formed upon his tongue as the helmsman babbled on, but he managed to hold them back. He was relieved when the noise of the village finally drowned his voice.

The mossy houses swept by; the dirt moved quickly under his feet. He kept his head down and stayed on the widest path, the one he was certain would lead him into the woods. Kyleigh would be waiting for him there — in the shelter of the trees and away from the eyes of the village guard.

The walls around Oakloft were twice a man’s height and wrought from thick planks of wood. They were every bit as mossy as the houses. From a distance, it looked as if the town had been surrounded by a giant bush.

The wide gate was propped open. A few guards wandered back and forth across the creaking ramparts, spears propped against their shoulders. Kael planned to dart by them quickly. He would keep his head down and walk as if he had important business — exactly how Uncle Martin slipped past the kitchen maids.

His plan was a good one. Unfortunately, he made it to the gates just as a caravan pushed in from the other side.

Wagons and horses and hordes of men tromped through, blocking up the gates. The bulk of their party pushed Kael to the side. He knew he would have no choice but to wait his turn. He went to lean up against one of the bushy walls — and leapt back with a yelp.

A ragged man was tucked behind the leaves, sitting cross-legged with his back against the wall. The man’s skin was so dark with filth that Kael would’ve been less surprised to spot him crawling out of a chimney.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

The man didn’t reply.

His mane of scraggly hair ran directly into his scraggly beard. His head was bent as if he’d fallen asleep. Between the angle of his head and the severity of his hair, Kael couldn’t see his face.