The Silver Sphere (30 page)

Riley pulled at her blonde braid. "Yes, we should assume
this ability of Biskara's is something new, and go with what our contacts say. So
far, only you and Max have had success linking with your Kin. I feel an itch in
my head sometimes, even an image, but nothing otherwise."

Simon gazed up at them. "I can tell you from my history
texts that I do remember reading that Biskara can follow large military movements,
much more than fifty, so this is different—his ability to monitor smaller groups.
As far as your contacts go, from what I read, all Assembly members have certain
talents in which they excel. Making contact can be one of them." He stood up
straight.

Shelby nodded. "I'll be right back." She turned to
seek out Blunderbuss.

He was nearby, huddled with a few men. She told him about her
contact.

"That's good news. The boys will want to help. They all
hate the Nightlanders. But votes keep the group harmonious, and I'm not exactly
a ruthless dictator." He turned back to the men.

She returned to the Kin and Simon, and sat down. Glancing around
at their faces, she saw they all were deep in thought. A tired bunch, they looked
as dead as a group of students after pulling an all-nighter studying for exams.

Blunderbuss returned, his spindly shadow announcing his approach.
"We are ready to go. We will need a little bit of time to pack up and get the
camp situated. We also lifted Nightlander uniforms from their barracks a few days
back. I knew they would come in handy." He picked up a mug, filling it to the
brim from the jug of ale, and chugged the entire thing.

"So what is the plan?" asked Shelby.

"Ah, I'll be back in a few minutes. Be ready to go. Still
checking on some things. Then I will give it to you." He wiped his mouth and
sprinted off.

From a distance, the roar of the Manticore came once more, echoing
through the desolate, foggy woods. Shelby shivered. Dawn would be coming soon. Hopefully,
they'd have time to rest again before setting their plan in motion.

"Seems like the Manticore is following us. Do you get the
same sense?" Simon flashed a nervous smirk.

"Sure do. From what you told us, we shouldn't fear it. We're
traveling with a large group." Shelby hooked her thumbs in the straps of her
knapsack.

"I know, except the thing still sounds scary."

They all looked off in the direction of the roar, and patiently
waited for Blunderbuss. Shelby scanned the dark trees. Her eyes felt heavy, but
there was too much at stake. If what she'd seen at Wintress's place was correct,
if Azimuth fell, Earth would be next.

Both her homes would be gone.

Zach was tired. Anxiety swept over him. He stumbled a few steps,
and Morgana placed her hand around his arm.

"You okay?" she asked, the intensity of her green eyes
heightened as she arched her brow and fixed her gaze on him. Brown hair spilled
over her shoulders. She had tied most of her locks up in a ponytail, but some strands
had come loose.

"I'm okay. A little spent, I guess." He felt foolish
saying that after what she'd been through.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Spent?"
She shook her head.

"Uh, mentally tired. I'll be fine." He smiled, and
tugged her hand.

Ahead, Throg and Brodeur were engaged in conversation.

They walked for a couple hours, and Zach felt much stronger.
Night had fallen, but moving around was safer. Staying in one place so late might
be more than a little dangerous.

A deep roar emanated from the west of
them, and they all stopped to stare in the direction of the sound.

"Manticore. Not a good omen," Brodeur said, his expression
stolid. "They say they appear only when unnatural events occur. Rare to come
this close to a Manticore."

Morgana edged closer to Zach, gripping his hand through the moonlight.

Brodeur raised an eyebrow. "At least we aren't in the heart
of the Cark Woods. Battalions of men have disappeared searching for treasure. We
will be passing the edge of the Cark heading into the Canopus Hills. Not too dangerous
on the outskirts, yet more of a possibility to run into something. I've gone through
this part on numerous occasions and have never seen anything."

An hour passed as they hiked the woods. Often they were forced
to take a slower pace around the steeper areas. The darkness made the terrain hard
to read, but when the clouds drifted away from the moon, a chalky glow illuminated
the forest. They traveled for some time before reaching the edge of the Cark, which
they needed to pass.

Throg motioned to Zach and Morgana. "Better pause for a
breather now. We don't want to stop often until we are past, and a rest will give
us strength to hustle."

They went through the familiar routine of gathering dry wood
to make some brew for their respite.

They sat once again sipping tea, and a large multicolored owl
hooted next to them. The fire blazed, casting orange and red shadows across the
faces of the trees around them. Warmth flooded Zach as he sipped the hot liquid.

Brodeur eyed the nocturnal bird. "Another omen, although
I couldn't say good or bad. Owls are magical birds, the messengers of dead souls.
This one is trying to tell us something." He peered up into the dark trees.

The tea was soon finished, and the fire nearly burned out. Zach
helped extinguish the last flames, and he and Morgana fixed their packs to their
shoulders.

Once more, the four of them headed out. They continued for a
half-hour's length without any further roars or disturbances. Near midnight, they
stopped for a brief rest, as Morgana asked for a few minutes.

"Nature calls," she said, smiling coyly.

Throg dropped his gear. "Okay, but stay in shouting distance,
and bring your rapier."

Throg and Zach sat and listened to one of Brodeur's stories.
This one started with a dog, a wheel of cheese, and a harp.

Brodeur laughed and said, "You wouldn't
believe what the wench told me next. I thought for certain I was going to sleep
in the barn, but no! After the cheese mess, I ended up staying in the worst possible
place."

"Where was the worst place?" Zach asked.

He was about to reply, but was cut off by a deep, guttural roar.
The three of them sprang to their feet.

"That sounded way too close," said Throg. He scowled
out into the dark forest. His breath came in puffs of steam as they listened.

Morgana's screams followed a second roar. "Help!"

Without a word, they picked up their weapons and bolted.

Fleet as a gazelle, Zach arrived to the scene first. "Man
alive!"

Morgana was pinned against a tree, her rapier in front of her.
The Manticore circled her and gave a low growl. The moon's glow offered enough light
for Zach to make out the details. The beast's head was human, except larger and
with a red face. The creature reared toward Zach, its blue eyes fixed on him and
its vast mouth opened, revealing a triple row of teeth. An eerie cacophony of trumpets
and flutes emerged from the Manticore's gaping maw. The beast abandoned its pursuit
of Morgana and strode a few feet closer to Zach.

Throg arrived and stood still, his broad sword raised. "Don't
move, laddie."

The Manticore stared deep into Zach's eyes and held his gaze.
It roared into the sky with the distorted sound of fanfare. Seconds later, the monster
bounded off into the woods with exceptional speed, leaving them behind.

Throg looked at Zach and sighed. "Whatever made it leave,
let's be thankful. That beast was twice the size of a lion and quicker than I care
to fight."

Zach turned to Morgana, who stood petrified against the tree,
her rapier still raised.

"Are you okay?" He jogged up to her, his empty hand
out. The sword weighed a ton, but he refused to put it away until he knew they were
out of danger.

She snapped out of her paralyzed state and slid away from the
trunk. "The Manticore could've swallowed me whole. I thought I was done for."

Brodeur ran up, huffing, his arbalest loaded. "What happened?"

"The Manticore sized up Zach, and then took off," said
Throg.

"Good guy to travel with, eh? Next time something like this
happens, you need to grab my arbalest since you are quicker. Would be your only
chance against a Manticore, or any beast its size."

They walked back to their belongings and collected themselves.

Still shaking, Morgana sank to the ground. Zach offered her some
water from the canteen, but she refused. "I'll be okay. I need a minute to
get my wits back is all."

A tickle in Zach's brain announced a familiar voice:
"We...
transported from... the Canopus Hills at sundown tomorrow on... Gida Path. We will
be... large stagecoach and...."
The voice of his link cut out. He whirled
around to Throg and relayed the message.

"So they are in the Canopus Hills as we suspected, and they
are being moved. Something must have happened for the Nightlanders to take such
a risk."

"No doubt the Assembly members will be heavily guarded,
but it may be the only opportunity we have to act," said Zach.

Throg nodded. "Well, we should be out of the Cark in a half-hour.
We'll stop then and figure out a plan. Canopus is a few miles from here, and Gida
runs directly through it."

"Well, whatever you need, I'm game," Brodeur said at
once. "No reason to pretend. I suspected Zach was a Kin for a while now. Should
the Nightlanders take over, none of us will last, so count me in."

"You got the situation right about our chances," said
Throg.

Brodeur placed his arbalest on the side of his sack.

"Let's pick up the pace," Throg said. "No telling
what might migrate from the belly of the Cark to the outskirts. Things much worse
than the Manticore, I understand."

They drew closer to the edge of the Cark, and the temperature
dropped. Their thick and misty breaths floated up from their lips. The trees loomed
larger, warts grew on their gnarled branches, and some had enormous knots that appeared
as eyes.

Morgana wrapped her tunic tighter. "Brr. The temperature
has dropped twenty degrees in the last few minutes."

Throg stopped and stared straight ahead.

In the distance, three figures stood wearing gray cloaks. They
were tall and thin, their faces sitting in the darkness of their cowls. Each of
them had a walking stick, and black gloves covered their hands. They stood in place
as if statues.

"Demons of some sort, but a different type than I know,"
whispered Throg.

Brodeur walked forward a step. "I've heard about them—Gray
Cloaks. They reside deep in the Cark in all the stories. The tips of the sticks
got blades on them, and they reach a long way. Should we keep walking or try to
go wide?"

"No sense. Those who want trouble always follow. I'm surprised
they didn't ambush us. Makes me think they might leave us alone. Zach is with us.
They may simply crave a closer look at him."

They continued walking in the direction of the Gray Cloaks, and
several more emerged on the sides of them. They made no movement.

Morgana stared up at Throg. "There must be at least a dozen
now." She effortlessly strung an arrow on her bow.

"I see them. Morgana, you and Zach keep eyes on our rear.
Brodeur, watch the left flank. I will take the right."

Around them, the sound of whispers emanated from the woods, several
voices speaking in an unidentifiable language. The voices called out their names
simultaneously. Hair on Zach's neck prickled. The leaves on the ground began swirling,
and the temperature continued to drop. Throg was up front, and he and the others
grew closer to the three Gray Cloaks ahead. Behind them, snapping pierced the incessant
whispers. Morgana raised her bow as she whirled around.

Drake strolled toward them. He appeared exhausted. Moonlight
illuminated his blue skin and made his green hair seem dark as pitch.

Throg placed his hand on her arm. "You can put your bow
down, Morgana. This is Drake, a friend."

"Drake?" Her voice shook. She looked as if she wanted
to say something, but before she could, the Leshy spoke.

"Well, seems most of the fire is under control. I sensed
trouble among you, and brought a few friends."

"We seem to be in a pickle," said Throg, nodding his
head.

Three Leshy walked in the distance to their left, and likewise
to their right. They sauntered between the Gray Cloaks and their party, and stared
up at the demons.

"I told them the woods would be destroyed by Biskara if
we did not assist the Kin. We'll be able to walk you to the end of the Shattered
Woods. My fellow Leshy will want to return to their own forests to protect them,
once you're safe. A Leshy rarely leaves his domain. The Gray Cloaks will not follow
past the boundaries. They don't like it on the edges of these woods, much less past
them." Drake motioned them to keep walking.