The Onyx Vial (Shadows of The Nine Book 1) (30 page)

A love letter? How did a love letter turn into anything about the Onyx Vial?

I can only hope that this war, which makes no promise to end, will not last beyond my ability to return to you. I fear, however, that the chances of that dream are dwindling. I wake so often now in wonder at surviving another day.

She flipped impatiently to the next page, this one containing the illustration of the Onyx Vial.

They found us again. Two nights past. This time we had such little warning of their attack that we were forced to set the records aflame. Master Artemis wailed something frightening at the sight of his life’s work reduced to ashes. I, too, felt their loss—as deeply as I feel your absence.

But if we are to make a stand against our enemy, we cannot allow him even the slightest advantage. In that regard, we cannot allow ourselves to lose the footing we’ve worked so diligently, and risked our lives these many years, to gain.

The mention of the enemy made thoughts of Killian burn, unwelcome, in the back of Ariana’s mind.

So, my dear Edyson, in the hope that the records will not be lost forever in the memories of its keepers, my knowledge shall come to you, preserved, through your safekeeping, on the pages I now write.

First is the matter of the Onyx Vial.

Ariana turned the page.

Yes, my love, it does exist. And it is as lethal as the legends say.

But the truth of it is: the Onyx Vial can be destroyed.

The illustration on the previous page is as accurate a representation of the Vial as can be expected, given the descriptions in so many of the now ruined accounts. But it serves its purpose. You will recognize it, should you ever have the misfortune of finding it.

The following is my account, to the best of my memory, of the records that were lost:

She turned the page again.

To destroy the Onyx Vial, one must have the strength to overcome it. This is not something one can do alone.

Every elemental essence must be represented. Given that no single element can survive a touch, it falls on the Tieren to get hold of the Onyx Vial.

Of Tieren it is known that there are few. To compound the odds, it seems, these races are scattered thoroughly across the Nine.

It was true. Until she came here, Ariana had never knowingly met another Tieren. The fact that she, Harold, Jace, Oren, and Killian had been grouped together in one city was beyond her imagination.

But then… if Harold had any connection to earth, what the woman was suggesting was possible. Between the three of them, they could’ve already destroyed it. There would’ve been no need to go to Ionia without her, or to give the Vial over to Hunter, and risk the brothers overturning it to their father.

Anger rising, Ariana returned to reading, willing herself to calm down.

Furthermore, there is a strongly supported theory among the records that not just any Tieren will do. This is based on a small passage that appears in the margins of a book owned by the High Proficient of the Great Unraveling. The passage acknowledges that the Onyx Vial may weaken, after an undetermined period of time, only under the combined powers of those races connected to air.

Ariana inhaled sharply. Lawks.

If this was true, destroying the Vial would require a Tierenmar, a...

She flipped to the next page. A terrifyingly exhilarating idea swept through her mind: She was Tieren
mar
. Based on what Killian had done to her at the Stratton's, he was Tieren
var
. And according to George, Hunter was Tieren
dar
.

This
was how the Shadows would destroy the Onyx Vial. Through the three of them.

…considering the improbability of attaining the feathers. Completing the Death’s Mistress Arrow is impossible without procuring an arrowhead that has pierced a beating heart but has never killed.   

“What?” she hissed, pulling out of her thoughts and flipping back to the previous page. She read the last line again.

…require a Tierenmar, a…
flip
…considering the improbability…

“No,” she moaned.

It was out of order. And it was the last page.

She looked around, thinking she’d missed one. But she hadn’t.

She scanned the edges of the pages. Nothing. She turned them over and sought out a tiny mark on the swath of blank page. There: In the top left corner on the back of each page was a number. She counted through them. One… Two… Three… Four… Six.

And suddenly she remembered: Rockwood Pass. The Huntsman they’d called Commander. He’d taken a page from Hunter's satchel and dismissed it as useless because he couldn’t read it. He'd burned it.

Page five.

Without that page, it didn’t matter who could overcome the power of the Vial. They couldn’t destroy it. Not unless…

She searched for the passage again.

…the Onyx Vial may weaken, after an undetermined period of time, only under the combined powers of those races connected to air.

They had the means to destroy it. They had a clue to the process of destroying it. Maybe all they needed was time.

But Hunter already had the Vial.
Was
there any time? He could be handing it over to his father as she read these words.

No. Not with Harold around. As long as Harold stayed with Hunter, the Vial would not fall into King Fyrenn’s hands.

But as long as Harold stayed with Hunter, the portal book stayed in Ionia, Ariana and Killian stayed in Helede, and the Vial stayed intact.

They couldn’t bring Hunter to Bolengard. Not without knowing how long it would take to destroy the Vial. The only option left was to bring themselves to Hunter.

She had to tell the Strattons.
And hope these documents were right.

Chapter 25

Night drew near and Hunter grew tired. Tired of the cold. Tired of snow-dusted fields of winter wheat that stretched for miles in every direction.
And tired of walking. His new boots hadn’t been broken in. The weight of the weapon on his hip felt as if he’d roped a felled tree and dragged it behind him like an ox.

"Yellow and grey are much nicer colors than green and brown. And besides, wouldn't you rather have a Gyrfalcon as a mascot than a bear?" Finn, one of Hunter's companions on the afternoon section of the trip, had been speaking since they switched partners at the border of Vane Province, reminding Hunter that he was also t
ired of hearing about the Aeriel Order, and how much better it would be for Hunter than the Eerden Order. As a Tieren, Hunter would be able to choose which Tower to live in at Ruekridge, and which group of students to take classes, eat meals, and play sports with as well. Finn and Perry had been going back and forth about this the entire time. Finn actually made a stronger case than Perry, but he never stood a chance. Tehya was Eerden. That's the Order where Hunter wanted to go.

The thought of Tehya made him even unhappier about his current situation. The first leg of the trip was a major disappointment because, as it turned out, it was spent in what Tehya called a Roller—a spherical stagecoach with a stationary center that was basically a glorified metal hamster ball. How the horse and driver were latched to the Roller was beyond him. Etâme, no doubt. And while it could hold them both—not
comfortably
—Tehya had been expressly instructed to ride separately from Hunter.     

He understood why. And he was glad not to have to walk the entire day—especially since the nearer to Ruekridge they travelled, the more cautious they had to be about strangers seeing or remembering them, and the more they’d have to rely on themselves. But still. He hated that he’d missed his chance to be alone with her. Since then, at least one of the boys had been grouped with him.

Perry stopped and spoke over his shoulder. “I’m thinking this whole Rite-of-Passage-Means-Learning-to-Take-on-Responsibility-by-Experience thing is overrated.” He rubbed his gloved hands together.

Hunter and Finn caught up and they fell in step with each other.

Finn huffed, his breath shooting into the air in icy swirls. “It’s not about that, Perry.”

Perry chuckled. “I know. caught what they threw at me. It’s about our safety, and our parents’ safety and yap, yap, yap.”

Finn grumbled something about Perry not taking things seriously, but Hunter wasn’t listening. As he crested the hill, his eyes trailed over the tall field grasses, the ground between the stalks lightly dusted with white, that swept toward a thick tree line in the distance. Above the trees a dark mass loomed.

Hunter’s footsteps faltered. He ground to a halt.

The green storm-cloud was actually the foliage of giant trees. Hunter's mind filled with images of Southern Oaks as tall as Sequoias and he choked on his excitement. “Whoa,” he breathed. “It's even bigger than I imagined.”

"I think I see Dilyn and Tehya down the road there," Perry said, his voice eager.
His
words triggered something in Hunter—Finn and Perry, too, it seemed—for they all took off running at once. They flew down the hill and through the stand of normal-sized trees, stopping only when they reached another half mile of thick, chest-high grasses that spread like a lake between them and the first massive tree. It stood proudly, looking more like a wall or city building than any kind of structure made in nature.

The trunk was three times as wide as Tehya’s house was tall. The first and lowest branches were too high to see in the dusky shade of the billions of elephant-ear-sized leaves.

“Treddian Forest,” Perry whispered reverently, echoing Hunter's feelings exactly.

Somewhere within was a city his Grandpa had described so many times, in such great detail, it was nearly as real to him as beholding the very forest where it hid.

“None of the pictures do it justice,” Finn murmured.

Hunter squinted into the canopy, imagining he could see the City In The Sky even now.

“I already want to live there,” Perry said.

Hunter turned to see them both gaping, as taken by the sight as he was.
So, I’m not the only one seeing this for the first time
. The thought was satisfying.

“Drastic, isn’t it?” Tehya asked.

Tehya.

Hunter whipped around.

There she was—Dilyn at her side—standing in the middle of the path, her autumnal hair captured in a braid, her verdant eyes practically glowing with excitement.

“Drastic?”

Tehya smiled. “You know, amazing. Incredible.
Drastic
.”

“Oh.” Hunter smiled back. He hoped he looked charming. Probably not. 

“It’s been
H
elede
waiting for you here,” Dilyn said. “I almost convinced her to go on without you.”

Tehya elbowed Dilyn in the shoulder and shook her head. “Did not.” She turned her eyes to Perry. “Our maps end here, but I can’t imagine us going any other direction than into the forest.”

“Either way,” Finn said, “it isn’t far. We could always go over, have a look, then come back.”

Tehya arched a brow. “True.” She looked across the fields at the sun sinking out of sight. “We’re early anyway. The next section of the map isn’t due to arrive yet.”

Dilyn clapped his gloved hands together. “Then what are we waiting for?”

No one bothered to reply. Hunter faced the mountainous trees, and the five of them simply gravitated forward.

For the entire half-mile stretch, the group walked with their heads tilted back, their eyes on the sprawling branches, arms of wooden giants. And when they finally passed beneath it, their gazes fell to find that there were miles more.

There was no order to the placement of the trees, but the forest had a grove-like quality. The underbrush appeared halfway maintained, as though someone took care to sweep the newly fallen leaves from the pathways and collect fallen branches from the forest floor. Yet it was still like stepping into an ancient world. As if the moss and vines that hung from the first row of trees had, in some way, created a barrier that kept the sounds of open air—and the progress of time—at bay.

They walked slowly, taking in every detail.

Dilyn pointed to a few saplings, slightly taller than Finn, at the bases of the wooden towers. “I wonder how many years it’ll take them to get like this,” he said, pointing up.

“Ai, look!” Perry pointed to their right.

Hunter followed his finger and caught sight of a raised bit of root from the nearest tree, with two low-hanging vines that draped like hammocks some ten feet above the top of another sapling.

“Let’s wait for our maps over there where we can see farther without walking,” Finn suggested.

They scrambled up the ten-foot-tall mound of solid tree root, using the sturdier pieces of the sapling branches for footholds. Tehya, Hunter and Perry reached the top first, perhaps because of their Eerden nature. Finn and Dilyn clambered over the edge a minute after. But they’d barely gotten to their feet when three bubbles appeared above their heads.

“Aw, gorse,” Perry muttered. “We
just
started exploring.” He reached for the bubble nearest him, but it ducked away from him, floating toward Hunter.

Timidly, Hunter stuck a finger out. The bubble impaled itself and morphed into a small packet of paper.

“That's odd,” Tehya said. She didn't have to elaborate. The plan had specifically excluded Hunter from being map-holder for any leg of the journey, since he was new to the world. “There are three.”

Hunter had started to unfold the pages, but stopped. She was right. That
was
odd. There should only have been two bubbles. Two sets of instructions. That way no one would travel alone.

His heart plummeted.
No
. No way. Had Harold found a way around the agreement and forced his hand?

Before he could open the pages to find out, the sapling they had just climbed to the root morphed into a man and hopped onto the giant root beside them.

All five of them jumped back in surprise.

The man grinned. His ashen-brown face, the color of the bark, was framed by unevenly cropped white-blond hair. His pale green eyes were wide with excitement. His clothes, Hunter noticed, were the colors of the darkest leaves. Around his waist was a thick leather belt laden with sharp weapons—all made of bone and wood.

Hunter's shock changed to glee.
A Sentree! A Guardian of Treddian, just like in the stories.

“Names,” the Sentree said, his voice surprisingly heavy, like timber creaking in a harsh storm.

“Hunter Woodworth,” he said, without hesitation—without thinking.

Whether the others had planned to speak or they were just following his lead, they gave their names as well.

“You are not where we were told you would arrive,” the Sentree said.

“You've been waiting for us?” Tehya asked.

“We were all alerted to be on lookout for you.”

“We weren't sure we were going to get to see the city, so we came exploring,” Perry explained. “Sorry.”

“Of course you would see the city,” the Sentree said. “We would not leave you in the grasslands overnight.”

Hunter's heart leaped with excitement. It was an unexpected perk. Fulfilling a dream to see the great city he had heard so many stories about. “When do we get to see it?”

The Sentree's eyes alighted on Hunter. “Very soon. The way up will not be as kind to newcomers here, but it can't be helped.”

“What do you mean?” Tehya seemed wary.

“You've found yourselves near a Sentreeway. We Sentrees are used to the quickness of the coming and going, but it may be unpleasant for you. Our guest entrance is much slower and much less likely to make you sick.”

“You may wait here, if you prefer, to be escorted by another Sentree to the guest entrance.”

Hunter shook his head, but he could see that Tehya and Dilyn both were considering the offer. Hunter didn't want to wait. He wanted to see it now.

“We can handle it,” Perry answered, just as Tehya said, “I think we should wait.”

Tehya laughed shakily, catching Perry's eye.

“I can go with Perry,” Hunter quickly put in. As much as he would like to stay with Tehya, the anticipation of seeing the city was winning out.

“And the two of you?” asked the Sentree.

Finn shrugged, ambivalent. “I can wait.”

“I'd prefer it,” Dilyn said.

“Well then.” The Sentree pulled a small tube from a weapon-laden belt and blew into it. The sound was like wind through the trees; a whistling rattle. “Another Sentree will be along shortly,” he said. “Hunter. Perry. Come with me.” He turned, and headed toward one of the large looping vines that hung toward the far end of the root. Hunter tucked the letter in his pocket and followed. When they reached it, the Sentree hopped nimbly on.

Hunter and Perry grabbed hold of the vine—too large for them to fit both hands around—and pulled themselves up on either side of the Sentree. The vine had wide, smooth grooves that made it easier to get a hand-hold. Hunter had just discovered this when the Sentree said, “Hold on.”

“To wha—“ Perry's words were left on the ground as they surged upward.

Hunter clung to the vine and braced his feet. The force of gravity against his shoulders made him have to work to stand. Acidic talons clawed his throat. He had to close his eyes to avoid seeing the world rushing down around him. After a moment, his chest began to ache, and he realized he'd forgotten to breathe. He inhaled, slow and shaky, though he wanted to suck down the air in gulps. When he couldn't inhale any further, he exhaled hard, willing the nausea to subside.

To his surprise, it worked. It also didn't feel as though they were going quite so fast anymore. With caution, he braved a view. “Whoa,” he uttered, once again breathless.

Before him was a view unlike any he could even have dreamed. Elaborate stairways coiled around branches as wide as major highways. Hanging bridges draped like mossy strips of lace. Hundreds of hornet-nest-shaped buildings clung to the bark at every angle. They passed the first of the primary branches. In comparison, the other branches were like twigs. The hundred or so buildings he'd glimpsed below were nothing more than an island amongst the oceans of boughs. But as they continued upward, the city grew.

An immense network of stairs and ladders, planks and walkways, and hanging bridges created an intricate lacework between the buildings. There were so many of the strange round buildings, he couldn't help but think of bubble paper. The scene continued farther than he could see in every direction. He looked up. They were still so far down the enormous trunk. Far, far above, large, glowing spheres hung within the mossy vines and elephant ear leaves, lighting the city with a warm, summer-evening glow.

The vine halted, jerking to a stop with a bounce that threw all three of them off balance.

“What's going on?” Hunter asked, just as a familiar rattling whistle echoed through the trees. This tune, however, was sharper and shorter.