Broken Forest: Book One of the Daath Chronicles (5 page)

We made camp by a large stream. Silver specks darted around the rushing water.

“Glimmer fish!” For once, things were going our way. Glimmer fish were easy to catch because of their shiny scales and big schools.

Derrick and I made a bet that whoever caught the smallest fish would have first watch. I was the better hunter. It would be an easy win.

I watched Derrick take a net out of the pack. By the time he had that mass of string untangled, I’d have caught five fish already. I traded my sword for my bow and lined up a shot. For the past five years, I’d won every archery contest at the Puring Festival, and I never missed.

Ready, set…

“I got one!” Derrick shouted.

I jumped at Derrick’s girly shrill, my left foot slipping on the mossy stone. I flailed my arms, trying to catch myself, but failed and fell backwards into the water. The splash scared away all the fish except the measly one my arrow managed to pierce. I punched the water, getting wetter by the moment. I heard another howl, grabbed the shaft of my arrow and sulked back to camp.

Derrick smirked as he turned the fish over on the fire. I sat across from him, scowling and picking at a fish too pathetic to eat.

Derrick stifled a chuckle.

“Stop it.” I threw the fish into the fire and watched it turn to ash. My stomach grumbled and Derrick handed me one of his roasting sticks. Normally, I’d decline out of pure stubbornness, but the fresh scent of cooked glimmer was too tempting. I grabbed the stick and bit into the meat, burning the bottom of my lip.

“It was your fault I slipped,” I said in between bites. “You screamed like a little girl and distracted me. You never would’ve won if you played fair.”

“You’re one to talk,” Derrick said with a full mouth. “You’re the biggest cheater I know.”

I would’ve argued, but he wasn’t completely incorrect. Three summers ago, we were almost thrown in the river when I got caught cheating at knucklebones.

We sat by the fire, staring into the flames. Clouds covered the stars, surrounding us in a dreary black. Wind wheezed through the old pines, causing them to creak. I held my cape closer to my body, warming myself.

“How did this happen?” Derrick buried his head in his hands.

I perched my elbows on top of my thighs. I didn’t want to think about Jeslyn. We bickered non-stop. I’d spent a good portion of my day figuring out new pranks to play on her. Now it seemed such a waste of time. Losing Jimri was hard, but at least he knew I loved him. Jeslyn could die assuming I thought she was a royal pain. I couldn’t bear the thought of her in danger.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Things have been peaceful in the lands, especially with The Puring Festival only weeks away.”

There were five annual festivals in Tarrtainya, but the Puring was the most celebrated. It was the only festival when our family ate beef. Cows were needed more for their milk and cheese, and beef was a luxury only the rich could afford, but during the festival Lord Tyre had his own cows killed. Two browns. Father called the Puring a day of remembrance. A reminder of the Dark Wars and how The Order saved us all from the dark mages. Seemed like just another excuse to drink lots of ale and eat loads of meat.

I wanted to tell Derrick we’d find her and that she was all right, but I lost my voice. My thoughts drifted to Jimri then to Jeslyn. Childhood memories flooded my mind. I pushed the images away. Thinking about them only made it worse.

Derrick said goodnight, and I watched him fall asleep. I could never fully relax. Most nights I passed out from exhaustion. Raking manure all day under the suns not only tanned my skin but drained my every emotion. By nighttime, I’d fall onto my feathered cot and into a deep sleep. But sleep brought the nightmares. Visions of drowning. Screams of terror. And everything I deserved.

I rubbed the sides of my head, hoping the pain would dissolve and I could think clearly. It wasn’t working. How was I going to scout full of anxiety? Only one thing would help me focus. I slipped out the old leather book I had snuck in while packing. Inside the pages of this journal were laid the anguish and fear of the past two years. No one knew about it, and I’d die before anyone read it. Avikar the Poet is not the title I wanted.

Words flowed out, scripting all the guilt and sorrow I kept inside. The thin piece of red clay I used was shrinking. Once gone, it would be awhile before I could find more. Writing utensils were rare in my village and asking Mother to buy one wasn’t an option. With my head a bit clearer, I snuck the journal back in its hiding place.

The fire had trickled to a low pulsating glow. Warmth emanated from it, touching my cheeks and spreading across my body. I listened to the pops of the dying wood. The melodic symphony relaxed me, and I rubbed my eyes. I rolled out my shoulders and cracked my neck. Derrick lay flat on his back, mouth slightly open, snoring nasally. I decided I’d better start my rounds before the wolves decided to brave the fire.

The horses whinnied. A twig snapped in the distance.

Reaching for my bow, I slowly stood. To my left and right were yellow eyes and low growls.

“Derrick.”

The massive creatures stalked towards me. I strung my bow, raised it, and pointed it at the closest wolf. “Derrick!”

Derrick groaned. I hoped he was getting up, because in a few seconds we’d be surrounded.

The first wolf stepped forward. Two more wolves appeared on either side. The one in the center growled, revealing rows of pointy teeth. Winter wolves were bigger than the small brown bears that lived near our home. Their ears pointed straight up like a jack rabbit and their eyes glowed a sickly yellow. In a white flash, the center wolf sprang forward. I released the arrow and it sunk into furry flesh, but still the wolf came and fast. It pounced and I stumbled back, trying to switch to my sword. Before the beast’s teeth closed, Derrick’s claymore sliced into its side.

“Aren’t you supposed to have first watch?” he said, turning to face the other wolves.

“I was getting bored,” I shouted. “We need to drive them away from the horses.”

Derrick yelled out a war cry before charging ahead. Letting out my own war cry, hardly as menacing, I ran at the snowy white creature. I sidestepped to the left, sweeping my sword, hitting one in the chest. The wolf whimpered, then fell.

Derrick yelled again and I spun in his direction. The distraction almost cost me my arm. Claws raked against me as a wolf jumped, trying to knock me down. I backtracked to the fire and, using my sword as a poker, pulled out a flaming timber.

“Ya, ya!” I waved the torch back and forth, pushing the remaining animals away. When the last set of glowing eyes retreated into the dark, I exhaled. “That was close.” I expected Derrick to make another snide remark, but he didn’t. I turned around and saw him running straight for me with his sword drawn and eyes wild.

“Behind you!” he screamed.

I whirled with my sword out, thinking a ball of fur would be the last thing I’d ever see; instead, it was a man, about two hundred stones heavier than I.

With the flat of my blade, I barely managed to block the descending axe. Both arms shook as I tried to push the razor edge of his axe away from my face. Sweat dripped off the giant, splashing me and the blade. His foul breath showered over me and I kicked the brute in the kneecap while angling my blade to allow the weapon to harmlessly pass. The move did little to slow him, but it gave me enough time to regain my wits.

It was then I noticed Derrick fighting with another man. He’d have to make do as the man in front of me was more than I could handle. The axe swept in low. The brute had stayed in a crouch while swinging a backslash at my knees. A mistake. His back was open to a desperate counter, one that meant leaving my sword on the ground.

The same lighting reflexes that saved me before won again.

Driving the tip of my sword into the ground to parry the incoming attack, I spun along his massive weapon arm, leaving my blade in the dirt. Even though he was big, he couldn’t match my speed. As he tried to stand, I was on him. I jumped on his back, sliding my thumb and wrist across his throat and locking him in a deep choke hold. It would take all my strength to subdue someone of this size.

The behemoth wriggled and used his fat fingers to pry at mine. When tugging at me didn’t work, he slammed me against a tree. I don’t know how I held on, but I did. I squeezed again, harder, trying to take his last breaths. Bark rubbed against my back, shredding it. I clenched my jaw, holding in a scream. The man dropped to his knees, gasping and clawing. Then silence.

Jerking away from the body, every part of me trembled. My heart raced so fast, I thought I would die.

It dawned on me the fight wasn’t over.

Derrick.

I rushed to my feet. Derrick hunched over, his back facing me.

“Derrick!”

I ran over, thinking the worst. Closer, I could see he was only catching his breath. At his feet lay a man with a jagged scar on his face, surrounded by blood.

“Are you all right?” I grabbed Derrick’s shoulder, and he nodded.

He glanced back and his eyes widened. “You took that down by yourself?”

“I’m sure it was luck.”

“Impressive.” Derrick straightened and wiped his claymore on the grass.

I knelt next to the corpse, examining the body. Sweat slid down my neck and back. “Do you see it?”

“I do.”

We both looked at the scar on the man’s face. It had to be the one Calli described. But where was Jeslyn? Hadn’t Calli said there were three kidnappers?

I grabbed my head, breathing rapidly. I needed water and air, cool air. I stood.
Too fast
. Everything spun. My mouth tasted like metal.

“Avikar?”

Words were lost to me; instead, I responded with a stream of vomit.

How much time had passed? Was it night or day? I couldn’t tell. Dark fabric blocked the small window above the door, and I didn’t dare try and peek through it. I learned why the girl was terrified of the guards. When I’d screamed for help and they threatened me to be quiet, I chose poorly. They gave me a tainted drink, and for longer than I can remember, I couldn’t move. That was the last time I screamed for anything.

They never let us out. We had to urinate in the wagon. The smell permeated everything. When they opened the door to feed us, I noticed four other wagons. The same guards by each one. We resembled Roamers. No Tarrtainian would think twice about the caravan.

There must be a way to escape.

The wagon stopped, and I heard a loud commotion, a woman yelling. While trying to navigate the dark space, I listened as best I could. If fortune smiled upon me this day, I’d learn a detail about where we were, or where we were headed.

“What do you mean they haven’t returned? They have two of the firemares and one of them is an enforcer. This should have been a simple task.”

“They were due back this morning.”

I recognized the second voice. It belonged to the dark man who’d given me the paralyzing drink.

The woman grunted. “Lucino will be furious if we don’t stay on schedule. Pick up the next girl. I’ll make sure we are not being followed. Since your men are incapable of doing anything useful.”