The Last Enchanter (5 page)

“What is it?” Clovis mouthed.

Marcus leaned close and whispered in his ear. “We're not alone.”

Twelve

B
y the time Jayson reached the edge of the village, darkness had fallen, and the wide, grass huts stood guard in the moonlight. He slowed his pace a little and listened. Once more, the voice called for him by name. He went toward it and found Nathar waiting for him.

“I came as quickly as I could,” said Jayson. “What is it?”

Nathar was one of the pureblood Agorans Jayson freed from the Celestine mines. He was tall and proud, though the web of scars on his back showed what he had endured there. Jayson recalled the anger that had burned in Nathar's eyes upon their first meeting. That anger served Nathar well in the battle with the Hestorians. Nathar had been Jayson's closest friend ever since.

“The elders have called for you,” Nathar said.

“The elders? But why?”

Nathar pressed his eyelids shut. “I can't believe this. Not really,” he whispered more to himself than aloud.

“What has happened?” Jayson asked.

“A messenger just arrived from Dokur. It's Fredric . . .” The Agoran's voice broke off, but he quickly regained control of himself. “He is dead.”

The words struck Jayson to his core. It was true that he had never liked Fredric. Rather, he had more than ample cause to hate him, but hate him he did not. Despite Fredric's past crimes, the king had been one of the few links Jayson had to Ivanore.

Jayson clenched his jaw, his heart filling with sorrow, not for himself but for his sons who had lost their grandfather. Jayson wished he could be with them to comfort them.

“You said the elders want to talk to me?” Jayson asked.

Nathar nodded again. “They plan to send you to Dokur.”

“Of course,” replied Jayson, “but I am still needed here. We are to return to our lands soon. There is still much to do to prepare.”

“As it stands, there may be no return.”

“What are you saying, Nathar?”

“This is what I dread telling you, my friend. Fredric's order to return the Agorans to our homelands has been revoked.”

“Revoked?” cried Jayson with growing fury. “But he swore an oath, signed a binding agreement! What right does anyone have to change that? Who is responsible?”

Nathar bowed his head, reluctant to continue. Jayson took a deep breath to calm himself. “Tell me,” he said, “by whose authority has this happened? I must know so that I may plead our case before him.”

Nathar's shoulder began to tremble. “I saw the name on the document for only a moment, but there is no doubt,” he said. “It was Kelvin Archer, your son and heir to the throne of Dokur.”

Thirteen

D
id you hear that?” asked Marcus, crouching low behind the fire. Beside him, Clovis knelt in the dirt, readying his bow. Marcus noticed the tip of Clovis's arrow trembling slightly.

From the edge of the firelight came a slight stirring of leaves. Marcus crept toward a large stone. As he approached, he was sure the sound of his heart beating was as loud as thunder. Summoning his courage, he leapt behind the stone, hoping to surprise whatever was hiding there. From the corner of his eye, Marcus saw Clovis trying to hold his bow steady. Sounds cut through the silence—scuffling, grunting, someone crying out in pain.

A moment later, Marcus had it by the hair and dragged it, kicking and squirming, into the light. Marcus pulled
back its hair and looked at the face, red and out of breath.

“You!” Marcus shouted, letting go. “You've been following us all along!”

Clovis lowered his arrow. A smile crept onto his face, and he covered his mouth with his hand to keep from chuckling.

Lael angrily brushed the dust from her tunic.

“Why?” Marcus demanded.

“Why do you think?” Lael scowled at him. “I want to come with you to Dokur.”

A laugh burst from Clovis's mouth, but he quickly swallowed it. Marcus clenched his teeth. He had been afraid, and for what? To be humiliated by Lael once again. All he wanted was to be rid of her once and for all.

“You can't come,” said Marcus. He scooped up a handful of kindling and pitched it into the fire.

“Who are you to tell me where I can and cannot go?” answered Lael. “I've as much right as you to travel these woods.”

“Lael, look at you!” said Marcus, waving his hand up and down the length of her. “You're not ready for this sort of journey.”

“Not ready? I'm more ready than you were when you went on your quest. You know as well as I that I'm just as strong as you and better with any weapon. In fact,” she added, “from what I hear, you two could use someone like me along for protection.”

The kindling ignited, the flames rising higher. Marcus felt the heat on his face. Or was the heat coming from inside him?

“Go home, Lael. Your papa is calling.”

From the look in her eyes, Marcus saw how deeply his words had stung her. Why did he always say the wrong thing?

Stepping closer to the fire, Lael held out a small, leather pouch in her fist. She shook it. The coins inside jingled like tiny bells.

“I'll pay you,” she said. “Be my guide, and I'll make it worth your while.”

“Are those
silver
coins?” Clovis asked, swallowing hard.

Lael emptied the bag into her palm. The firelight reflected off the shiny coins.

“That's at least a year's pay!” said Clovis.

“More,” replied Lael. She held up a single coin and returned the rest to her pouch. “And I will gladly share it all if you will take me with you.”

“I don't mind,” said Clovis, reaching for the coin.

Marcus grabbed his hand. “We don't want your money, Lael.”

“We don't?” asked Clovis. “No, right. Of course. We don't want your money, Lael.”

“Where did you get all that, anyway? Did you steal it?” asked Marcus.

Lael ignored his question with a defiant glare. “Will you take me or not?”

Marcus stared at Lael over the tip of the flame. Behind her, the Black Forest seemed vast and endless. Marcus noticed, too, that Lael's eyes were almost as dark as the forest.

“All right,” Marcus replied finally. “You can go to Dokur.”

Lael's shoulders relaxed.

Marcus couldn't help but grin. “But,” he continued, turning from the fire, “you'll be traveling there alone.”

“Marcus Frye!” shouted Lael. “You're a tyrant! That's what you are!” She pulled back her arm and chucked her coin at him. It hit him on the shoulder and fell soundlessly to the earth.

Marcus bent over and plucked it up. “Thanks!”

“That's mine!”

“You just threw it at me, so I believe the coin now belongs to me.”

“Give it back, Marcus!”

“No.”

Lael paced between the stone and the fire. She reminded Marcus of Agnes in her pen.

Finally, Lael stopped and faced Marcus. A mischievous grin spread across her face, her nose tilting to the air. “Fine,” she said, “keep the coin, but I am going to Dokur. And what's more, I'm going to camp right here tonight—with you.”

“Here?” asked Clovis, casting a wary glance at Marcus.

“Yes, here. So if you two don't mind,” she added, unrolling her blanket and smoothing it out on the ground beside the fire.

A stunned Clovis politely moved his blanket over several inches. Lael lay down on hers. “Good night, boys.”

“Good night, Lael,” said Clovis, a second before Marcus stuck an elbow into his ribs.

Once they were all settled, Marcus held up Lael's coin and studied first one side and then the other. As much as he felt justified in keeping it, he tossed it onto Lael's blanket instead.

Lael looked at the shiny disk for a moment before closing her fingers around it. She looked up only briefly, her expression still hard. Then Lael rolled away from Marcus onto her side, choosing to face the darkness rather than him.

Fourteen

T
he next morning, Marcus was already tying up his belongings when Clovis awoke with a yawn.

“Why does it have to be so cold?” Clovis asked, pulling his cloak tightly around him. He got to his feet and stretched. “Where's Lael?”

“She wasn't here when I woke up,” answered Marcus. He handed Clovis a biscuit from his pack.

“Oh,” said Clovis, disappointed.

“Don't tell me you wanted her to come with us.” Marcus was still angry at her from the night before and was glad she had gone.

“What if something happens to her?” Clovis said. “What if she gets hurt?”

“Lael get hurt?” said Marcus, finishing his biscuit and starting another.

“She might meet a wild animal.”

“Then it's the animal I'll worry about,” Marcus scoffed. “She probably had a rough night and decided to head for home. That's what I'd do if I were her.”

“But you're not me,” said Lael, stepping through the trees. She held up a dead rabbit by its legs, a triumphant grin on her face. “Breakfast!”

It was good of Lael to share her morning's catch, considering the way Marcus had treated her the night before. After they cooked and ate their meal, he mumbled his thanks. Then he put out the fire and started off toward the edge of the Black Forest. Lael tagged along, keeping far enough behind the boys to not be bothersome. A few hours later, they emerged from the forest and found themselves at the foot of a rock mountain split by a tall, narrow opening.

“Vrystal Canyon,” Marcus announced before drinking from his water skin.

Clovis paused beside Marcus and let his gaze travel up to the cliffs above. “Do you think we'll meet any more of them in there?” he asked nervously.

Lael marched past them into the canyon, but Marcus grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Let go of me,” she said, but the serious look in Marcus's eyes silenced her.

“Last time I was here I was attacked by a groc,” he told her.

“That's right,” added Clovis, “shape-shifters. Monsters that parade around in human form waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”

Lael pulled her arm free. “I know what a groc is. I heard you talk about him in the village. Name was Bread, wasn't it?”

“Bryn,” said Marcus. “His name was Bryn.”

“Bryn ended up saving you from King Fredric's soldiers, didn't he? Well,” added Lael, “if all grocs are as noble as Bryn, then we haven't anything to worry about, have we?”

As Lael disappeared into the mouth of the canyon, Clovis and Marcus gave each other a worried glance. Marcus drew his knife, and Clovis readied an arrow. Only then did they follow.

Fifteen

T
he canyon was even colder and darker than Marcus remembered. The air rushing through the winding passages moaned as if the mountain were in pain. Marcus brushed his hand against the smooth, stone walls coated with a thick layer of damp moss. He had once believed the canyon was the remains of a dried-up river or the scar left behind from an ancient earthquake. But Kelvin had said that behind these walls was an underground lake. Marcus wondered if there was some way into the rock itself so that he could find out.

Marcus kept Lael in his sights as best he could. It was obvious by the way she now marched ahead that she didn't think she needed protection, and maybe she was right. She was dead on with her sling and could down any
prey with ease. However, as the pathway narrowed and twisted, Marcus doubted there would be space or time enough to use her weapon.

Nearly an hour passed without a problem, but Marcus's dread did not let up. Rather, each step made his heart beat faster. Several times Lael disappeared around a curve, and Marcus would hurry to catch up with her, but then he would lose sight of Clovis.

Lael had once again gone out of his sight while Marcus struggled to keep up. He finally found her leaning back against the canyon wall.

“Why did you stop?” asked Marcus, grateful for a moment to rest.

Lael closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. “Guess I've tried so hard to get away from you that I finally wore myself out.”

“Get away from me?”

“You made it very clear last night that you don't want me along. So I figured I'd do my best to put some distance between us.”

“This isn't the place to travel alone, Lael.”

“I can take care of myself, apprentice.”

“Really?” replied Marcus. “Then why did you offer to pay me to be your guide?”

“I just thought it would be nice to have some company.”

“That's a high price to pay for company.”