Broken Forest: Book One of the Daath Chronicles (2 page)

Derrick would never get me to the lake. I’d avoided it for the past two years, but this was close, very close. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re entering the match during the festival,” Derrick replied.

I shook my head. I’d sworn off fighting. “No.”

Derrick folded his arms. “You can’t keep sulking around forever. It’s been two years.”

I glared at him. “I know how long it’s been.”

Derrick’s body shifted into a fighting stance.

“Forget it. I told you. I’m done fighting.” And it was true. Fighting was the reason I hadn’t been watching Jimri.

Before I could push my way past his stocky frame, he punched me in the chest. The shock of the hit dazed me, and he followed with a left jab. He grinned at me as if this were a friendly spar, like it was old times. But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t pretend.

He fired three more light jabs, hitting me in the chest and shoulder.

“I’m not fighting!” I pushed him away.

He smiled and slapped my right cheek. I took a deep breath. Adrenaline pumped through my body. “Don’t push me, Derrick.”

He winked and smacked my other cheek. It took every drop of self-control not to wallop him in the face.

I balled my fists. “You know I won’t.”

“Then I guess you’ll be my punching bag for the day.” He jabbed me once more and then came at me with a right hook.

I dodged the throw. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I have to.” He charged into my stomach.

Once we were on the grass, he spun around my side, wrapping me in a headlock. I slipped my palm underneath his arm, trying to break his hold.

“I don’t think so,” Derrick said, forcing me closer to the ground.

Dirt covered my mouth, and I spit it out. Using two fingers, I found a pressure point in his arm and dug in. It took a few agonizing seconds before he released me. Once free, I twisted his arm back, locking him in a move my father taught me. Derrick’s head butted me in the face, and I stumbled back. He jumped to his feet and waited.

This time I was ready.

Blood trickled from my nose. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my shirt. My gaze locked onto Derrick. Only one thought entered my mind—
hit him hard
. My arms pumped forward in quick thrusts to his chest. Each hit I scored released more tension. A mixture of sweat and blood stung my lips. Waves of emotion rolled through my body. I knocked Derrick in the face leaving a large welt. He dodged my next punch and wrapped me in a bear hug. I uttered something guttural and stomped on his foot, trying to dislodge him.

Derrick’s grip tightened. “It’s not your fault.”

Everything paused.

My body slacked as the memory of Jimri flashed in my mind. “Yes, it is…I should have been paying more attention. He was my little brother…”

Derrick dropped his arms and slowly backed away. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the ground. Pulling at the grass, I thought of every stupid mistake that led me to this point, and I wished I could do it all over.

Derrick knelt beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I was there too. It was an accident.”

I closed my eyes, imagining Jimri’s dimpled smile. I could hear his laugh whistle with the trees. Two years later and the pain still echoed through everything. Would it ever go away?

I picked myself off the ground, walked to the stream and dunked my head into the water. Every year since we were five, and even though we were too young to enter, Derrick and I had practiced for the annual tournament. I’d stopped fighting the day Jimri died, but I couldn’t ignore the life it sparked in my soul. I missed the rush.

Shaking the water off my head, I glanced at Derrick. “Nice shiner.”

He smiled. “I let you get that one in.”

I laced my fingers behind my head and looked up at the sky. “Thanks.”

“I’m here for you. Anytime you want to get beat up.”

“You do know you can’t beat me in a real fight?”

Derrick laughed and punched my shoulder. “Say you’ll enter.”

Jimri had loved watching us train. He used to pick up branches, pretending they were swords.

“Maybe,” I said, and then noticed the suns’ position.
No!
We were going to be late, and Jeslyn would torture me to death for ruining her precious plans.

“Come on,” I said, getting up. “We need to get back.”

We had more than enough berries. Derrick would be thrilled I made him his favorite triple-berry pie. I placed the baskets on the grass and studied my stained hands. It would take quite a bit of scrubbing to remove this mess.

Drops of water sprinkled my face. I turned to see Calli trying to catch a drifting leaf in the stream. While her attention stayed on the frail object, I cupped a handful of water and splashed her. She squealed and splashed me back until the front of my dress was soaked and I cried out, “Truce!”

Calli giggled and shook out her wet curls. I loved the way her springy locks bounced around her chubby cheeks. It made me wish I had curls. Although, Mother said my chestnut hair was like fine silk, and I shouldn’t complain.

Between the blades of grass, I spotted a lone dandelion. I plucked the little flower—or weed, as Mother would say—and twirled it, admiring the small petals.

“Want to see something special?” I said.

Calli bobbed her head up and down. I motioned her to come closer. I grabbed her arm and held the flower just an inch or two above it.

“Once upon a time there was a family, and they all drank too much cider. Poppa ran outside, Momma ran outside, the annoying brother ran outside, big sister ran outside, but poor little baby couldn’t and peed
all over
.” I rubbed the dandelion down Calli’s arm, leaving a faded stain.

Calli frowned and wiped the flower dust. “Now my arm is yellow.”

I gasped and dropped the dandelion, my hands clutching my chest. “Oh, no, how did that happen?”

Calli tilted her head at me. I stuck my tongue out at her.

Calli’s eyebrows straightened, giving me her mad face. “You did that on purpose!”

I puffed out my cheeks and crossed my eyes. She giggled, and I jumped to my feet and ran, taunting her to chase me. I could hear her high-pitched laughter catching up to me, and I turned around. There, creeping towards her, were three unfamiliar men.

Three men that should not have been this deep in the forest, so far from the local routes.

“Calli, come here, now,” I said in a stern voice, trying to hide my fear. A worried look crossed her face, and she hurried to me. I grabbed her as soon as she was close and wrapped my arms around her. No one was touching my sister.

These men were not from our land. Each one wore, what resembled, rags, but I knew what expensive fabric looked like. Every time I went to the market, I touched clothes I’d never have. These men appeared to be Roamers, but I knew better. Roamers couldn’t afford embroidered tunics.

“What do you want?” My grip tightened on Calli as they approached us.

“Can’t you guess, my lady?” the largest of the three said.

I leaned down and whispered into Calli’s ear.

“Tsk, tsk,” said a man with a garish scar across his right cheek. “No secrets between friends.” He took out a small dagger and with his shirt wiped off the blood on it.

“Go!” I yelled.

Calli and I dashed forward, kicking the closest two men in the groin as hard as we could. They both yelped and doubled over. We ran past them, heading towards the woods. I knew we were too far from home to make it, but we had to try. If anything, we could hide.

The third one ran after us. He was too fast.

“Run, Calli!” She was by my side. I grabbed her hand, half-pulling, half-running with her. I could hear the heavy steps behind us. We weren’t going to make it.

Fingers grabbed my hair, yanking me away from Calli. I screamed and twisted underneath the brute’s arm and stomped on his foot. He lifted a sword to my throat.

A voice rasped into my ear, “One wrong move and I’ll slit your neck.”

Calli stopped and stared at me in horror.

“Go, Calli!” I could see she was terrified, but instead of running away, she ran towards me. “No, Calli!”

Her little fists pounded my attacker’s side as hard as they could. When that didn’t work, she bit his arm.

“Will you two get up and get this one!” my captor said, swatting at Calli. She fell back, taking a piece of his sleeve with her.

The other two men groaned, stood with a slight limp, and closed in on my sister.

“Calli, please, run. Go get Poppa!”

At the mention of our father’s name, her teary eyes widened, and then she sprinted into the woods, the two men stumbling after her.

We’d just arrived home when Derrick pointed to the woods adjacent to the stables. “Is that Calli?”

“Yes,” I said, recognizing the running figure.

I ran to her. Her cheeks were flushed and stained with tears. She nearly collapsed in my arms when I reached her.

“Calli, what’s wrong?”

Her eyes shut.

“Calli?” I lifted her and carried her inside. Her face had a slight bruise, and she breathed heavy.

“Mother!” I called, bringing Calli into her room, where I carefully laid her on the bed.

My mother walked in, wiping her hands off on her apron. “Calli!” She rushed to my sister’s side, feeling her forehead. “Get some water Avikar. Quickly.”