Rise (6 page)

My palms throbbed with pain. “Isn’t this the Town Square?” I balled my hands into fists, willing them to stop hurting. Where were the
soldats
and all the people?

“You’re in a dream,” he explained. “When you wake up, where will you be? Are you in the capital somewhere?” He shook his head, frustrated. “I can’t feel your presence. You must have managed to get outside the capital’s walls.”

My hands flared with intense pain, as if they were on fire. Morlet reached toward me. When his gloved hand neared my face, a feeling rose inside of me that begged me not to tell the king about the cave or the assassin.

I jerked back. “Don’t touch me!”

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound, making my skin crawl. “I’ll get what I want from you,” he snarled.

My eyes flew open, and I gasped. My entire body shook, even though the dying fire burned right next to me. Anders tossed a log into the fire, his eyes dissecting my every move. The flames swayed around the wood, making it crackle.

“You don’t look good,” he observed, his voice rumbling off the walls of the cave.

Too bad there wasn’t a small rock to hurl at him. Of course my forehead must look bad, but that didn’t mean he had to point it out to me.

“Is it morning?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably. “I, uh, just went out to gather some food for breakfast. When I returned, you were tossing and mumbling something unintelligible. Were you dreaming?”

Trembling from the memory still fresh in my mind, I said, “It was more like a nightmare.” The thought of Morlet’s magic slithering around me made me recoil.

“Tell me about it,” Anders said, his words laced with a sense of urgency.

I scooted closer to the fire, and the growing flames warmed me. “I dreamed about Morlet. He wanted to know where I was.”

The assassin stilled. “You dreamed of the king?”

“As I said before, it wasn’t pleasant.” Wrapping my arms around my legs, I rested my head on my knees, gazing into the fire. Images of Morlet danced in the flames—the cloaked figure rising in the inferno, feeding off it, growing in strength. The image blurred and disappeared.

“Is there anything specific you recall?”

Closing my eyes, I remembered the figure standing on the platform and the fog swirling around me. “He told me I was dreaming, and he wanted to know where I would be when I woke up.”

Anders huffed. “I’m sure that’s all it was. Just a dream.” Turning, he grabbed a skinned squirrel lying behind him. He shoved a green stick through its body from its tail to its head and placed it over the fire to cook. “I’ve never heard of Morlet communicating with a Kriger through a dream.”

“I didn’t say he was communicating with me,” I snapped. Why did he automatically want to discredit me? “It was simply a nightmare.”

“This is going to be a long journey if you take everything so personally,” he mumbled, turning the squirrel over. “Fortunately, I haven’t had to deal with any other female Krigers, or I would have killed myself by now.”

If the assassin didn’t learn to keep his mouth shut, I’d end up murdering him while he slept. Looking directly at me, he raised his eyebrows as if sensing my thoughts. I focused on the fire, trying to ignore him.

We ate the squirrel in silence. When we finished, Anders kicked dirt on the fire, putting it out. The only light came from the cave’s small opening, and I headed toward it, eager to be outside in the fresh air.

I walked out of the cave and froze, stunned by the sight before me. There were hundreds and hundreds of trees so tall, the tops weren’t visible. I went over to the nearest one and ran my hand along the reddish-brown bark.

“You act as if you’ve never seen a tree before,” Anders said as he ducked out of the cave.

“I’ve never been outside of the capital,” I replied, surprised by the softness of the trunk. “Last night it had been too dark to appreciate the sheer size and coloring of the trees.”

The lines in Anders’s forehead creased. We stood in silence a minute before he said, “We’re heading this way.” He nodded to the left. “Follow my path and don’t deviate from it.” He started walking, not waiting for me to respond.

I hurried after him, tucking my hands inside my sleeves, trying to stay warm. “Are we two miles from the capital?” I asked, hoping Morlet couldn’t sense
me.

“We’re a good four miles out.” Anders moved between the trees as if he knew exactly where he was going even though there weren’t any visible paths.

We continued in silence for quite some time, which afforded me the opportunity to review the events from yesterday. My situation seemed surreal. I was one of twelve Krigers destined to save the kingdom of Nelebek. Right now, I would settle for just saving my father. However, even if he managed to overcome his illness, he’d still be a
soldat
working in the mines, and we’d still be living under the king’s oppression. If there was a chance to change that—no matter how small or dangerous that chance—I had to take it.

“Do you think you can attempt to be quiet?” Anders said, interrupting my thoughts.

“I haven’t spoken at all.”

“No,” he retorted, turning around to face me. “You walk as if you’re trying to announce our presence.”

“Do you think the King’s Army is nearby looking for me?”

Anders shook his head. “I meant animals. You’re moving through the forest like you’re trying to attract every single predator to us.”

“No, I’m not,” I said in a clipped tone. My father had taught me how to travel furtively. Granted, the assassin was an expert in stealth, but I wasn’t the fumbling idiot he implied.

Shaking his head, he turned and continued through the forest.

“So,” I whispered, “tell me about yourself.”

His shoulders stiffened. “You don’t need to know anything about me.”

Watching him kill those men yesterday was still fresh in my mind. The idea of not only traveling with, but also trusting a killer, made me uneasy. “How did you become an assassin?” He gave no indication he’d heard me. “Do you enjoy … your job?” I prodded.

Anders flinched, but kept walking. “Let me ask you a question,” he said, his voice barely audible. Quick as a rabbit, he jumped over a fallen tree, not even pausing. “Do you have a job?”

“Yes. I wash clothes.” I hoisted myself up onto the fallen trunk, climbed over, and then jogged to catch up.

“So you’re a laundress.” He gracefully ducked under a low branch. “Is that who you are and what defines your life?”

“No.” I barely had to lower my head to clear the branch.

“Exactly,” he replied.

Washing clothes didn’t harm other people. How could Anders justify murdering for money? Did he feel any sort of remorse for the lives he stole?

“What about the people you murdered yesterday?” I asked. “You weren’t hired to kill them, so why did you?”

“I did what needed to be done to escape from the capital,” he replied.

“You could have rendered them unconscious,” I offered. “You didn’t have to kill them.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Anders responded. “If they lived, they would have been able to identify us.”

“It’s still wrong to kill.”

“I hardly think you’re one to judge when you benefited from it.” He spun around to face me, his eyes alight with challenge.

Not wanting to make him any more upset, I held up my hands in surrender. “All I’m saying is that there are other options. You didn’t have to murder innocent people.”

“They were
soldats
!” he exclaimed, his face turning red.

“Maybe they were forced into that position.” Like my father, I silently added.

“You’re a naive sixteen-year-old girl.”

My temper flared. I didn’t have to be here with him—especially if he intended to belittle me. “Yes. I am only sixteen, and I am a girl. However, you need me, since I’m a Kriger.”

“I don’t need you,” he said, pointing at me. “The kingdom does. If it were up to me, I’d have left you back in the capital to fend for yourself. But I’m required to assist you.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Did the man you’re taking me to, Vidar, hire you to help me?”

“I’m not explaining anything to you right now.” He rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. “We have a long journey ahead of us. Let’s stop talking and get moving.”

There was only one way this was going to work. “I want you to promise me something.”

“No.”

“Please?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he remained there, staring at me.

I didn’t want him to berate me any longer, but there was only so far I could push him. “Promise me you won’t kill anyone else unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

He laughed and folded his arms across his chest. “So if a
soldat
comes running at you, you want me to let him capture you?”

“No.” This man was utterly infuriating. Why didn’t he understand what I was saying? “Just don’t kill unless it’s absolutely necessary. You can wound or injure instead.”

“You’re delusional,” he mumbled. “I don’t go around killing everyone I come into contact with. I only take a life when it’s unavoidable.” Leaning closer to me, his eyes pulled tight, making him look furious. “And just so you know, I don’t
enjoy
killing people.” He turned and stormed away, not looking back.

“Does that mean you won’t kill unless you have to?”

He threw his arms up in the air and kept walking. Chuckling, I bent down to retie my boot. Straightening up, I headed in the direction Anders had gone. Twenty feet in front of me, he stood still as a building, spooked by something.

My hands pulsed with severe pain. A heavy breathing came from my right. I slowly turned and scanned the area, looking for the source of the threat. Between the trees only fifteen feet away, an enormous
brunbjorn
was moving directly toward me. It walked on all fours, smelling the air as it neared. The bear-like creature was easily five times my size.

I gradually started to back up, trying to keep a good amount of space between us. It breathed out, making a strange grunting noise. All of a sudden, it charged at me. I turned and ran. The animal pounded on the forest flooring as it neared, swiftly gaining ground. Its hot breath skimmed my neck. It roared a deafening sound and swiped its paw, slamming me to the ground. I rolled over as the
brunbjorn
went up on its hind feet, smelling the air. It dropped to all four paws, the ground jolting under me from the impact. I lay there, motionless, trying to decide if I should kick the animal and run or play dead.

The
brunbjorn
stood over me and roared, the sound vibrating through my body. I shoved myself forward, between the animal’s legs, so it couldn’t see me. Trying not to make a sound, I scrambled to stand behind it. It huffed and turned around, foam clinging to its mouth. Its eyes were two black coals that promised death. My hands pulsed, and a sharp, stinging sensation shot through me. I fell to my knees, crying out in pain. The animal circled me, observing its prey.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anders noiselessly stalking up behind the
brunbjorn
. It raised its massive paw, its black nails longer than my foot. I leaned back as it viciously swung, narrowly missing my face.

Anders slid a long dagger from his sleeve, clutching the weapon in his hand as he moved to the side of the animal. When the
brunbjorn
swiped at me again, the assassin darted in and embedded the knife in the animal’s side.

It savagely roared in pain and staggered back. I crawled to the tree behind me, wanting something solid to cling to. The animal whipped its head in Anders’s direction. When it caught sight of him, it charged. Instead of running away, Anders stood his ground. The massive
brunbjorn
tackled him to the ground.

Anders grabbed the dagger sticking out of the animal and yanked it free. The
brunbjorn
stood above the assassin and swayed. Without hesitating, he thrust the knife into the animal’s stomach. It reared its head back, howling in agony. He grabbed the blade strapped to his thigh and with quick and lethal efficiency plunged it into the animal’s neck.

It wobbled and collapsed on top of Anders. The assassin shimmied his body out from under the
brunbjorn
and came to me.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, breathing heavily, fresh blood coating his clothes.

“No.” Besides a few scratches, I was unharmed.

He squatted next to me. “I hope you consider that an acceptable murder.”

“Yes,” I said. “That was definitely an appropriate time to kill.”

Standing, he pulled me up. “We need to leave before more
brunbjorns
come.”

I nodded and said, “Kaia.”

“What?”

“My name,” I replied. “It’s Kaia.”

Dropping to my knees alongside the stream, I scooped the frigid water with my hands, drinking it. After traveling hard all day, I was desperate to quench my thirst.

“How much farther?” I asked between gulps.

“At the rate you walk, it’ll take us another day to get there.”

Ignoring Anders’s jab, I rubbed water on my forehead, attempting to clean my wound. “Are you related to Vidar?” I stood and dried my hands on my pants.

“No,” he replied, rinsing his bloody hands in the water. “Although he is my closest friend.”

It was hard to believe Anders had any friends at all. Stretching my stiff back, I asked, “Is Vidar your age?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”

“Just curious to know something about the person you’re taking me to.” Was he a wise, elderly man? Or young and hotheaded like Anders?

“Let’s get moving.”

“It’s almost dark,” I pointed out, not wanting to run into another
brunbjorn
, especially at night. Every time the leaves rustled or a branch snapped, I tensed, anticipating another attack.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark, little girl,” Anders taunted.

It would feel so good to punch his jaw. “It’s not like you’re that much older than me. And no, I’m not scared of the dark. I’d just prefer not to be eaten by some predator I can’t see.”

He smiled sardonically before turning and walking away. “So if you can
see
the animal, you don’t mind being its supper?”