King Of Souls (Book 2) (10 page)

“She’s not dead. Not yet anyway.”

Danielle quirked her eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘not yet’?”

“That atter’s attack is a lot more bark than bite. Sure, it looks bad, but he only wanted to put her to sleep.”

“It looked worse than that,” Danielle said.

“Well, yes. But, it’s the only way he has to escape. Atter’s aren’t exactly the fastest beast in the desert.” Fizzle scratched his forehead. “But, if a proper healer doesn’t treat the wound, it’ll fester. Make no mistake about that. I’ve seen folks linger for months from an atter attack. The atter poison scrambles their mind, and they never quite recover.”

“I can remedy that.” Danielle searched her pouch for the right seeds.

“Excuse me for being so forward, but you don’t look like any shaman I’ve ever seen,” Fizzle said. “You’re much prettier.” He cleared his throat, and a crimson blush spread across his cheeks.

“A shaman? What’s that?”

Fizzle stared at Danielle as if she’d declared the sky green. “Are you sure that atter didn’t hit you too?”

“I’m quite sure Mister Fizzle.”

“Not Mister Fizzle.” He smiled. “Just Fizzle, and a shaman fixes atter wounds and many other ailments besides.”

“I should be able to mend her wounds.” Danielle shuffled through the thick ground cover and knelt beside Keely.

Keely’s breathing sounded strong and steady, but, as Fizzle said, she appeared lost in a deep sleep.

Danielle placed her hand near the blackened wound on Keely’s hip and sent green weaves of magic over the atter strike.

Keely didn’t move, and the wound’s ghastly appearance remained unchanged.

Danielle’s brow furrowed, and she reached for the healing salve stashed in her belt pouch. She palmed a glass vial and pulled loose its cork stopper before spreading glowing green gel near the edges of Keely’s wound.

Keely’s skin glowed soaking in Danielle’s healing salve. As the salve sank deeper into Keely’s skin, the glow faded like a candle drained of wax, but the blackened wound persisted.

“I don’t know anything about that fancy green lotion of yours, but, unless you’re a shaman, I doubt it’ll help her.”

Danielle sighed, stood, and faced Fizzle. “Do you know where I might find one of these shaman? I don’t want to watch my friend die.”

Fizzle directed his gaze upward toward the fading storm and scratched his white bearded face. “There’s Zen, of course, but I don’t think your friend is in any condition to travel so far.” His gaze flickered toward Danielle in an appraising manner. “Besides, I’m not sure you’d find a friendly face in Zen.” He tapped his foot and rubbed his chin. “There’s a shaman that travels to the villages surrounding Zen on a regular schedule. Last I heard he was at Arossa, but he’d probably be to Misho by now.”

“How far away is Misho?”

Fizzle barked out a short laugh. “Are you just out here wandering around? The desert is a dangerous place. You’ve no Paka and, from what I can see, little water. Where are you from exactly?”

“I’ve traveled far from the north.”

“You’re from Calag? Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder as if someone might overhear. “But, I’d be careful mentioning that around here. Most folks in Alar don’t care much for Calagians,” his voice a whisper.

“I don’t think you understand… Fizzle. I’m from much further north.”

“North of Calag?” He stared at Danielle as if orange feathers sprouted from her head. “Miss, the only place further north than Calag is the forbidden desert and …” Fizzle’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. “I best be on my way miss.” He lifted his dusty cap off his head, revealing a shiny bald scalp and bowed. “I’m sorry about your friend. Be careful where you step, and you’ll be fine.” Fizzle turned from Danielle and started back the way he came.

Danielle’s stomach sank. “Wait! Please wait! She’ll die unless you help me.”

Fizzle paused, and his shoulders sagged. “Should’ve minded my own business….” He muttered under his breath as he turned and faced Danielle.

His face fell in defeat. “I don’t know where you’re from, and I don’t want to know. Okay?”

Danielle nodded wringing her hands.

“This is going to land me in trouble isn’t it?”

“No. It won’t I promise. Just lead me as far as Misho, and I’ll leave you be.”

He paused, staring at Danielle as if considering.

“Please Fizzle.”

“Danielle, I’ve a wife and a whole mess of grandkids besides. Without me, they’d be in a heap of trouble….”

Danielle nodded. “Lead me to Misho, and I’ll do the rest. I promise.”

Fizzle nodded once.

Danielle relaxed. “Thank you.”

Fizzle placed two fingers in his mouth and blew. A high-pitched whistle passed his lips. An animal’s snort preceded the ambling trot of a strange beast loping through the jungle undergrowth.

“This here is Karli. She’s my best friend so you treat her nice. Okay?”

The foul-smelling creature had a long snout and broad lips. She chewed on something in her mouth, and spread her lips into a lopsided grin. She had four long legs, and a single large hump on her back. Her mottled brown hair grew in clumps over her back, sides, and hind-end while her fur-less legs ended in thick broad hooves.

Danielle smiled and reached for Karli’s snout.

“Be careful Danielle,” Fizzle said. “She bites.”

Danielle stared into the beast’s eyes, and she bonded the Paka as she rubbed her smooth snout. She found a gentle, sturdy soul used to hard work and long hours of travel. Fizzle took good care of her, and Karli liked him a great deal. “No, she won’t. She’s sweet.”

Karli brayed and snorted. She nuzzled Danielle’s palm and drew closer to her touch.

Fizzle placed his hands on his hips and glared at Karli. “I see how it is. You women stick together. Is that it?”

Danielle laughed. “I guess you could say we understand each other.”

“You’ll have to help me with your friend,” Fizzle said. “We’ll strap her on Karli’s back. She’ll take good care of her.”

Danielle held the rancher’s gaze for a long moment. “Thank you Fizzle.”

The rancher’s expression softened, and he nodded. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get you to Misho.”

***

Ronan rounded the corner from the citadel’s curved hallway, and the stench of antiseptic curdled his nose. He paused inside the infirmary and scanned the room while Rika stopped beside him.

Two-dozen beds lined the clinic’s sparse walls, all empty except one.

Rika pointed toward the infirmary’s far end. “I see Sir Alcott.”

Ronan and Rika strode through the infirmary passing row after row of empty beds. They stopped before the bed holding the room's only occupant.

A wooden tray sat atop a neat bedside table. A congealing uneaten mass of roast lamb, gravy, and winter squash lay undisturbed on a porcelain plate. Near the foot of the bed, Sir Alcott sat in a broad wooden chair and staring with concern at Harbor Master Fitzgerald Montgomery.

Stretched flat on his back, Montgomery stared at the infirmary’s stone ceiling. Gray stubble covered his face, and swollen, dark pockets appeared beneath his bloodshot eyes.

Ronan caught Sir Alcott’s gaze, and the scholar tipped his head in acknowledgment. Sir Alcott had sent for Ronan a quarter hour earlier with news that Montgomery had awakened. Ronan pulled up two side chairs beside Sir Alcott near the foot of Montgomery’s bed.

Rika sat perched on the first chair, her eyes glued to Montgomery’s haggard face.

Ronan joined her in the second chair. He glanced at Sir Alcott waiting for some form of approval before starting his interrogation.

Sir Alcott nodded, and Ronan turned his attention to Montgomery pausing long enough to find the right words. He spoke, keeping his voice as calm and soothing as possible. “Mister Montgomery, can you hear me?”

Montgomery’s gaze shifted toward Ronan. He stared through bleak, empty eye sockets before offering the barest nod.

“I’m Ronan Latimer and this is Lady Rika Finn.” He gestured toward Rika keeping his voice calm and even.

“I know who you are, Your Majesty.” Montgomery’s voice came out dry and raspy.

Ronan stood moved to Montgomery's bedside table. He grabbed a smooth silver pitcher beading with condensation. He filled a pewter mug sitting on the dinner tray with cold water and offered it to Montgomery. “Please, drink. You sound parched.”

Montgomery pushed himself up and took the pewter mug from Ronan raising it to his dry lips. “Thank you Your Majesty.”

Ronan sat back in his chair. “Mister Montgomery, I understand you’ve been through a great deal during the last several weeks. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? The information might help us figure out what happened in Porthleven.”

“Yes, sir. I think I can manage, but can I ask about my family first? Did they come back to Freehold with you?”

Ronan’s eyes flickered to Rika, and she offered the barest shake of her head. “I’ll answer any questions I can, but might we start with your story instead?”

Montgomery nodded.

“What happened?”

Montgomery spent the next half hour outlining in detail the events that unfolded in Porthleven a month ago. He began with the Damocles arriving in Porthleven. He described all that happened, including the horrific events in the harbor master’s office.

“What happened after she killed the young man in the office?” Ronan said.

“The lady, Tara, disappeared for weeks after….” Montgomery swallowed hard gripping the pewter mug so hard his knuckles turned white. “Those — creatures watched over me. They never left me alone, nor let me leave the office. I still haven’t seen my family.”

“Did she say why she came to Meranthia? Or where she came from?” Ronan said.

Montgomery shook his head. “The first thing she asked me about was the statue of Elan in the town square.”

She could’ve asked anything, and she asked about Elan? Ronan exchanged a short glance with Sir Alcott. “What did she want to know about the statue?”

“I told her Elan was the Lord, and I don’t think she took the news too well.”

“Oh?” Ronan said.

“She turned a sickly shade of green, and I thought she might throw up.”

“What happened next?” Rika said.

“She asked about King Ronan, m’lady,” Montgomery said. “I told her he was a good man, but I think my answer angered her.”

“Why did she spare your life?” Sir Alcott said.

“She said she would allow my family to live if I helped chase away any visitors that came snooping around the village.” Montgomery’s gaze drifted down his bed sheets. “I never managed to keep my end of that bargain.”

“Did she hint at where she planned to go next?” Ronan said.

Montgomery shook his head not looking up. “They never spoke of their plans openly.”

“Mister Montgomery, do you know anything about a dragon statue?” Rika said.

Montgomery’s head snapped up, and he stared wide-eyed at Rika. “Dragon statue? Why would you ask me about that m‘lady?” His hand trembled as he took another long drink from the mug.

As she spoke, Rika’s gaze shifted to Ronan. “A woman in the village carried with her a dragon statue. It seemed important to her.”

“What did she look like?”

“A fair-haired woman,” Ronan said. “In her mid-thirties by my guess. Two children accompanied her.”

Montgomery sat bolt upright. “That’s my Molly. You saw my Molly?”

“We saw her.” Ronan couldn’t let Montgomery slip back into unconsciousness. He stood and picked up the silver pitcher. “Let me refill that for you.”

“Is my Molly here in the city?” Montgomery said.

“She seemed protective of the dragon statue,” Rika said. “Is it a family heirloom?”

Montgomery glanced between Rika and Ronan. “Yes, it is. My father gave it to me and my grandfather before that. For two centuries the statue has passed from hand to hand along Montgomery family lines.”

“I mean no offense, but it didn’t seem particularly grand,” Ronan said.

Montgomery shook his head. “It’s not especially. It carries great personal value for my family Your Majesty.”

Ronan paused, waiting for Montgomery to continue.

“The villagers believe the dragon statue helps ward off certain creatures,” Montgomery said.

Sir Alcott bit down on the stub of his unlit pipe. “What sort of creatures?”

Montgomery shook his head. “It’s foolish superstition.”

“Does Molly think it’s foolish?” Rika said.

Sadness crept into the corners of Montgomery’s bleary, bloodshot eyes. “No.”

“We don’t mean to press, but this information could be important,” Ronan said.

“Dragons,” Montgomery said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “The statue helps ward Porthleven from dragons.”

“Dragons?” Ronan said.

Montgomery nodded and pushed backward leaning against the headboard. “Perhaps if I explained Your Majesty.”