The Storyspinner (27 page)

Chapter 80

Rafi

A hard slap brought Rafi back to consciousness. He blinked, trying to clear the haze from his vision, and pushed his palms to his ringing ears. An image appeared—a face streaked black like a demon from the lowest hell, its eyes swollen to narrow slits.

Rafi took a deep breath in surprise and choked on the smoke in the air.

Smoke.

He stood up too quickly and the world spun. Rafi staggered a few steps before regaining his balance and felt a small hand press against his side, as if to steady him.

“Michael.”

The memory rushed back. Joshua dead, Dom close to it. The sword in his hand. Johanna with her dagger. He searched the ground frantically, expecting her to be nearby.

“Where is she?” Rafi dropped to his knees in front of the boy, holding his small shoulders tightly. “Where did they take her?”

Michael’s mouth opened, but the only sound that came out was a sob.

Rafi’s stomach plummeted into his boots. “Is she hurt?” He was terrified to ask any other question.

“Don’t know,” the boy whispered, his voice rasping. His lips trembled, his body shook. “They took her away.”

Oh Mother Lua.
Rafi’s mind worked in reverse; soldiers appearing on the trail, Joshua and Dom under the tree, Alouette dead outside the camp. He’d been hurrying, praying that Dom would live long enough for help to arrive.

The sky was still dark, but dawn brightened the horizon with shades of purple and magenta. Too much time had passed, but maybe by some miracle his brother lived.

Rafi swung Michael into his arms, feeling the boy’s salty tears sting the gashes Johanna had inflicted on his neck.

The fires in the wagons had burned out. The first had collapsed completely, its axle resting on the ground. The second’s roof had fallen in, and smoke still poured around the cracked and splintered door. The bright paint had melted, leaving streaks of red and blue that dripped down the wagon’s walls like tears.

“Lord Rafi,” Michael whispered. “I think someone’s coming.”

Sure enough hoofbeats pounded up the trail. Rafi set Michael down. “Where did you hide?”

“Over there.” He pointed toward the tree that stood guard over the place where Joshua and Dom had fallen.

“Go. Climb it and be silent.”

The boy ran, his breath wheezing through burned lungs.

Rafi darted into the underbrush on the side of the trail and found a fallen tree. It afforded him a clear view of the road and of the mounted specter that rode into camp.

“Stop here!” Dom shouted to the stream of men who followed him, some in DeSilva livery and some in Inimigo’s. His shirt was filthy and bloodstained, and he held his left arm pressed against his side as he dismounted. “We don’t want to ride over any trail they left.”

Snout stood next to Dom, offering him a supporting hand, which was ignored. Raul, the weaponsmaster, drew both of his swords as if expecting an attack any moment.

“Search the forest to either side of the trail. There may have been a chance—” Dom stopped and cleared his throat. “They might have been able to make it into the woods.”

The soldiers followed his command, but Snout stuck close to Dom’s side.

“Can you tell me, my lord, where you were when you heard the first shout?” Snout asked, his voice gentle.

Dom’s face blanked; his eyes were haunted. “Alouette was in the lead with Michael behind him.”

Rafi stood up, drawing a startled gasp from the nearest soldier.

For a moment the brothers stared at each other, as if expecting the other to dissolve with the smoke.

“I thought you were dead,” Rafi said quietly as he stepped onto the trail.

“I’m fairly certain I was.” Dom fingered a tear in his shirt, the edges crusted and stiff with blood. “When I didn’t see you out here, I could only assume . . .” He couldn’t manage another word and the brothers embraced, pounding each other on the backs and swallowing tears.

“Did any of the others go with you? Did you see anyone on the trail?” Rafi hoped that Johanna would appear from among the searchers.

“No one.” They followed Snout into the camp, being careful to step where he stepped. “Alouette and Michael entered the clearing and then I heard a scream. Michael tumbled off the back of the horse, and I rode forward, unsure what had happened. Right into a trap.” He looked at the wagons and shook his head. “I’ve never seen something burn so quickly. They went up in flames the instant I crossed into the clearing. Michael ran between the wagons, and I rode after him, hoping I could make it through to the other side. But arrows were flying, and Nudger spooked.”

He covered his mouth with a fist and shook his head. “Joshua fell off and darted for the trees, but two men stepped out from behind the wagons. They cut him down. Blessed Keepers, he was just a boy.”

Dom filled in the rest of the details, how he tried to protect Joshua, but there were too many men. They pulled him from his saddle and stabbed him through the chest.

He pulled his shirt aside, showing Rafi the raw, puckered scar. “I felt myself dying,” he whispered, pressing his hand over the spot. “I felt the world fading away, and then there was so much heat. Like my blood was boiling in my veins. I thought perhaps I was on fire . . . or maybe the fire cauterized the wound.”

“That man fixed you,” a gruff little voice said from a tree. Michael swung down from the branches. “He made you better, but he didn’t save Mama or Thomas or Joshua, and he took Johanna away.”

Chapter 81

Johanna

Johanna regained consciousness one sense at a time. She heard the clop of hooves first, then she felt the pain. Her hands tingled from being tied together around a horse’s neck, and her back ached like she’d been in that position for a long time. A bruise was forming on her chest from the constant friction of the saddle horn.

She opened her eyes, taking in the forest that pressed close, the sun rising behind her, and the family of
bugios
racing through the treetops. The monkeys swung hand, foot, and tail, keeping pace easily with the trotting horses, howling their displeasure at having humans in their territory.

I’m still in Santiago,
she realized. The ground hadn’t turned marshy or hilly yet, and the forest was thick.
And I’m riding Breaker.
Tears welled in her eyes, knowing that Rafi wouldn’t have let the animal go willingly.

Joshua was certainly dead, and she held little hope for her mother, Thomas, or Michael. Adding Dom, Captain Alouette, and Rafi to the death toll made bile rise to her throat. Choking it down, she forced herself to stay in control, knowing without question someone would come hunting these murderers soon.

Not that Johanna intended to lie around playing the delicate captive. She’d escape, run back to the estate, and help lead the group that would bring her family and friends’ killers to justice.

The ropes binding her wrists around Breaker’s neck weren’t painfully tight, but the only way to get free herself would be to flip them over the horse’s head. There wasn’t enough length to make that happen.

“She’s awake, Jacaré,” a female voice said from behind her.

The man guiding her horse looked over his shoulder and met Johanna’s gaze. The sun glinted off the planes of his high cheekbones, kissing his face with morning light. “Pardon the accommodations, Princess. We’ll untie you in thirty minutes when we rest.”

“I’m not a princess,” Johanna said through gritted teeth. “You
slaughtered
my family and friends for no reason.”

“We had nothing to do with the deaths at your camp. We arrived just in time to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?”
she shouted loud enough to make Breaker’s ears twitch. “What kind of rescuers tie you to a horse and drag you away from your home?”

Johanna jerked on the rope, lashing it back and forth. Breaker shied and she used the movement to slide out of the saddle. She ran alongside the horse, trying to flip the tether over his head, but it was too tight.

The man appeared at Johanna’s side, hauling Breaker to a halt. “Calm down. We mean you no harm.” He sliced through the rope, grabbing Johanna’s elbow as she took one stumbling step forward.

“Then let me go.” She failed to yank her arm out of his iron grasp.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I—”

Johanna whipped her elbow toward his jaw. He dodged the blow, but his grip loosened enough for her to break free.

Praying the mass of trees would hide her, she darted for the forest. At the edge of the trail something caught her feet and sent her sprawling into the spiny branches of a
palo barracho
tree. The conical thorns raked her from arm to hip, leaving bloody gashes in her flesh.

Rough hands rolled her away from the trunk. The pain fueled her anger; she kicked and thrashed against her captor.

“Please don’t fight me,” he said. “I don’t want to keep you tied up or chase you down. If you understood how important our mission was, you’d come along without question.”

“I’ll never stop fighting,” Johanna growled, and redoubled her efforts.

“We don’t have time for this.” He knelt across her thighs and pinched her knees. Her skin burned at his touch, and then went cold like a million frozen pins had punctured her flesh. She couldn’t move her legs. They were dead.

“What did you do to me?” she shrieked, trying and failing to wiggle her toes. She’d once misjudged a trapeze release and smashed her thigh into the platform. It hurt and had been hard to move, but after a few moments she’d regained the feeling. This was different—the loss of sensation was complete.

He ignored her question. “Look around, Princess. The forest is unusually dry. Predators sneak into villages and attack people instead of livestock. Something is amiss in this land and the problems will only get worse.” He hefted her into his arms, unfazed by her weight. “You are the one person who can save Santarem.”

“You’re crazy. I’m just a Performer. My family was all Performers.”

“You’re wrong. Your name is Adriana Veado Von Wilhelm, and you are the heir to a power that will save your people.”

Johanna shook her head, denying his claim, but there was something deadly serious in his blue eyes.

“My name is Jacaré, and I am a Keeper.”

Chapter 82

Rafi

Servants scurried from the kitchen and barracks to the horses in a controlled panic. Everyone had an assignment they needed to fulfill, a job that needed to be done before the riders could pursue the attackers.

“They have a six-hour head start,” Rafi said as he strapped a bedroll behind the saddle of his borrowed horse, fingers fumbling in his rush. “They’ll probably stop at sundown to rest, especially if they’re unfamiliar with this area, and then we can press on. Our knowledge of the landscape will give us an advantage.”

Dom caught the roll before it hit the ground and handed it back to his brother. “She’s fine, Rafi. If they wanted her dead, we would have found her body already.”

“I know, but . . .” His voice faded as horsemen approached. Snout and a small group of soldiers entered the courtyard. Two packhorses carrying canvas-wrapped bundles trotted at the end of the line.

The tracker’s face was grim as he approached. “Lord Rafi, we recovered two bodies from the wagons. Marin and Thomas, sir.”

Rafi pressed his forehead against his horse’s flank, not caring who witnessed his moment of weakness.
I promised her I’d protect her family. I promised and I failed.
“Thank you,” he said, once he pulled himself together. “I know that couldn’t have been pleasant.”

Snout shifted, looking around the yard. “There’s one more thing, sir.” He held out a cloth-wrapped package. “I wouldn’t open it here. Marin was holding it when she died. I think that makes it something important.”

Underneath the canvas Rafi could feel a rectangular box, perhaps ten inches long and two deep. He tucked it into the saddlebag, hoping to give it to Johanna personally. Soon.

“I’ll be ready to ride shortly, my lord.”

As soon as the tracker walked away, Lord Inimigo approached.

“I’d like to offer you some assistance in your search,” he said, dispensing with all courtesy.

Rafi’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “I could use a man with campaign experience to ride with the other group.” It was a lie. Rafi didn’t want Inimigo anywhere on either trail. If Inimigo was involved—and despite Belem’s strange actions Rafi wasn’t convinced he’d acted alone—he’d likely hinder the group as much as help.

Inimigo gave a snort. “I have too many ducal duties to ride off after a group of brigands, though I do envy
your
youth and position.” He patted Rafi on the shoulder, as he would a small child. “However I’d like to lend you one of my best trackers and bowmen.”

Two linesmen, Rafi could accept. If they got in the way or caused problems, he could order them home.

What other choice did he have? Inimigo would likely send someone to trail after them. At least by accepting the soldiers into his group, he’d know where Inimigo’s people were.

“I’d appreciate your assistance. See that they’re outfitted with everything they need from my stores and are ready to leave in the next ten minutes.”

“I knew you’d agree. They’re ready.” Inimigo raised two fingers in the air and signaled for some people to join them.

Rafi gritted his teeth when he saw who approached.
Father said
Inimigo was a master schemer, and I stumbled right into his game.
“I can’t possibly accept your steward. I’m sure you can’t afford to lose Vibora’s assistance.”

Rather than a split skirt or breeches, Vibora was dressed head to foot in slim-fitting leathers. They looked accustomed to wear and were tailored like Rafi’s own. She approached with a long-legged stride her shorter, collared companion had difficulty keeping up with.

“Before she came to my service, Vibora was a tracker of some renown.”

Rafi scrambled for a way to rid himself of Inimigo’s aid. “Raul’s group could use another experienced—”

“No, no. She’ll be traveling with your group.” Inimigo leaned close to Rafi and lowered his voice to a whisper. “As will this servant, Lucas. He’s an excellent archer and completely obedient to Vibora. Their skills are my
gift
to you.”

Damn him.
Rafi couldn’t refuse a gift without slighting Inimigo.

The young man, perhaps five years older than Rafi, kept his head bowed, eyes focused on the ground. If not for the thick collar around his neck, Lucas’s chin would have rested on his chest.

“What was his crime?”

Vibora answered. “He was a pickpocket, Lord Rafael.” She put a finger under the servant’s chin and raised his face. Dark circles ringed eyes that matched the defeated slump of Lucas’s shoulders. “He’s completely reformed now. Subservient, quiet, and skilled.”

“And you trust him?” Rafi asked.

“Of course, my lord.” She released Lucas’s face, and it drifted down to his chest.

Excellent. A conspirator and a criminal riding at my back.
“If there is anything either of you need, please see to it immediately.”

Inimigo waved the two servants away.

“Your affection for the Performer hasn’t gone unnoticed, son.”

The hair on the back of Rafi’s neck stood. Even if some unforeseen disaster occurred, and Rafi was forced to marry Maribelle, this man would never be his father.

“I want you to find her and get her out of your mind.” He squeezed Rafi’s shoulder. “Marrying Maribelle is the quickest path to secure peace for our states and the rest of Santarem. I know you. I know this honor debt will hang over your head for the rest of your life. It would be a shame for you to spend weeks and weeks looking for this girl, when your estate so desperately needs your presence.”

Rafi wasn’t surprised that Inimigo knew about the obligation he had to Johanna. He wouldn’t be surprised if Inimigo knew all the details of the Punishment and the events that had led up to it.

“Search for these kidnappers. Bring them to justice, if you can, but don’t spend more than a month on this chase or Santiago could suffer from neglect,” he said, accenting his words with a nod. “Rafi, my son, think on my words. Do the right thing for you and your people.”

Four weeks. Search for Johanna, determine if she’s truly the heir, prepare for a war or a wedding. Rafi felt it then, the exhaustion, the strain, the responsibility.

“That’s reasonable.” He stepped away from Inimigo’s touch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have duties of my own to attend to before I leave.”

Rafi walked away, feeling Inimigo’s eyes following him, and decided he’d better get used to it.