Maylin's Gate (Book 3) (2 page)

He stared at the boy's disheveled hair, and his face went numb. A slow fog rolled over his thoughts. He wasn’t Elan or any other god, but if his presence gave these men hope, he wouldn’t dissuade them.

One by one, each soldier stood and rounded the campfire. In turn, they dropped to their knees and pressed their foreheads into the icy mud.

His mouth hung open, and his gaze tracked upward before settling on Knight Harold.

Harry dropped to a knee and the knight’s forehead touched the ground.

He gazed over the prostrate men. A year ago every one of these men thought him dead. Now they worshiped him? He never wanted this.

"Ronan." Connal's voice prodded from the shadows.

He turned his back on the knights and guardians. Men and women he once held on a pedestal. Untouchable. Those memories came from another man's life. He could no longer afford them.

Alec turned from the camp and continued forward slipping into the shadows.

He followed the squire across the frozen landscape.

Connal walked beside him holding silent.

The distant crash of the pounding surf and the sea’s briny air served notice that they'd reached the bluff. Far below, pinpoints of fire dotted Ripool's streets.

He heightened his vision and gazed past the city to the harbor.

Ships of every size and shape stretched from the dock to the harbor's open mouth.

The dull ache in his head returned.

"Staggering isn’t it?"

He jumped startled by the familiar voice.

Emerging from the shadows, Devery Tyrell paused beside him. Devery nodded toward Connal. "Mister Prime Guardian."

Connal offered a slight nod. "Commander Tyrell."

"How many?" His voice came out hollow and strained.

Devery handed him a pair of field glasses. "See for yourself."

He took the glasses and held them to his eyes.

Ripool's city streets crystallized as if he stood atop Bawold's outer wall.

Armored baerinese soldiers lined the dock. Each soldier held a six-foot longbow. Baerinese workers unloaded crates from a transport moored at the dock. With tails swaying, the workers moved along the pier pulling wagons designed for a team of horses.

A slight shudder rolled over him. Would he ever grow used to these scaled creatures? He adjusted the field glasses settling them on Bawold Stronghold.

Unnatural shadows spread across the courtyard and outer walls.

He heightened his vision and couldn’t penetrate the fort’s gloom. He nudged the glasses northward and settled them on a well-lit street corner.

A baerinese man bundled in a heavy woolen cloak strolled beside a second, shorter figure. The man held a child wrapped in layers of furs and blankets. The second figure clung to a baerinese child’s hand.

He tightened his grip on the field glasses and kept his attention locked on the tight-knit family.

The man pushed away the blankets. A baby girl’s head rested on the man’s shoulder. The man kissed the child’s forehead then adjusted the blankets.

The baerinese woman scooped up the child beside her and held the boy tight. The woman peered into the man's face and tipped her head back in laughter.

His head swam. He'd watched the same scene play out a hundred times in any one of a hundred Meranthian villages. He lowered the field glasses and faced Devery. "I see children among them. How am I supposed to slaughter women and children?" His voice trembled. "They've done nothing."

Devery gazed on Ripool grim-faced.

A silent whoosh sounded in the air above him before a low throaty roar raised the short hair on his neck.

He pitched his head skyward and tracked the sound.

A cluster of leather-skinned birds glided high over camp. Baerinese soldiers sat atop each beast guiding them toward the fort below.

Pinpricks of dread rolled along his spine. His gaze shifted to those seated behind the baerinese soldiers.

Human soldiers, wrists bound and shackled, sat strapped to the saddles. The birds descended in a slow arc across the foothills.

He tracked the bird's progress until they disappeared inside the fort.

A woman's desperate scream echoed from the darkness below. A human scream.

CHAPTER TWO

The Last Heartwood

Sunshine blazed through the royal solarium's glass rooftop. Floor to ceiling flowers and shrubs packed every inch of available space. The exotic scents of lemon grass, ginger, and an array of faraway spices laced the room's moist air.

Flowers, in a rainbow of colors, sprouted from lush moss and leafy ground cover. Intoxicating scents drifted from orchids, roses, and tulips. The carpet spread across the gravel floor.

At the room's center, Danielle huddled over a workbench.

Beside her, Kelwin Finn chopped a mint plant into fine bits and pieces. A tangle of vines crept up the table legs and threatened to overtake its smooth wooden surface. Copper scales, glass beakers, and ceramic jars filled the workspace.

Resting beneath her fingertips, Ronan's heartwood bow hummed. Red light tripped across the bow's surface casting a fevered glow across the solarium.

She drew on her nature magic and green light passed through her hand into a clump of hawkweed gathered in her fist. The hawkweed glowed and blue energy rose from the plant's thin leaves. Green and blue energy mingled and swirled around the bow's shaft.

Her mind stretched outward and clung to the living heartwood. She worked the hawkweed’s blue weaves into the heartwood. She opened her eyes and scanned the bow's surface searching for any sign that might lead her to its host.

No marked change appeared on the bow's surface or inside the heartwood.

She tossed aside a handful of hawkweed and pressed her hands against her lower back rubbing away the ache. She let go a heavy sigh and shook her head. "I'm not sure what's left to try." She peered around the solarium searching for a flower or herb she hadn't tried.

"Maybe there's nothing left to try," Kelwin said.

"Kelwin, you've seen Lora's research notes. She didn't come right out and say it, but she hinted at a connection."

Kelwin nodded. "A hint, yes. She said a piece of living heartwood forms a bond with its host, but she never said we could trace the bond like a map."

She rubbed the bow's surface. "There’s a way. We're just not looking hard enough."

Kelwin stared at her through bleary, bloodshot eyes. "You can't be serious. We've been at this for weeks. Have you slept at all?"

"How can I sleep?" Her shoulders sagged. "Kelwin, I let the Heartwood die. I can't let our culture die too. I owe every Ayralen my complete effort. I will bring the grove back to life. The world depends on my effort. How can you ask me to slow down?"

Kelwin's expression softened. "You saved Lora's Sphere," the warden said. "We'll find a way."

Tension wrung her shoulders. "What if the plague reaches Freehold?"

"We're immune," Kelwin said.

"Are we?" Anger flared behind her eyes. "How do you know? With the Heartwood destroyed, we've nothing left to protect us."

Kelwin's gaze drifted across the solarium. "Has Trace revealed anything? Any information would help."

She shook her head. "He's still refusing to talk."

"You need to press him harder for answers," Kelwin said. "He's probably sitting on an entire heartwood grove."

The thought had crossed her mind more than once. "Would you trust any information he gave us?"

"I don't know what to think, but this isn't working." Kelwin stepped away from the workbench. "You've tried every known plant in Meranthia." Kelwin reached inside his belt pouch and pulled free a handful of loose seeds. "And, you've tried the seeds that survived the burning." A look of defeat registered in the warden's eyes. "It's possible the answer died with the forest."

Kelwin's words knocked loose a rusty memory. One she'd never considered. She flashed a nervous smile and goose bumps raced along her arms and legs. "You're right about that, Kelwin Finn. We've tried every plant in Meranthia and what's left of the Heartwood." She pushed aside glass beakers and clay jars and tossed away bundles of ragweed and dried cattail. Her stomach spun as the object of her search came into view.

"What are you doing?" Kelwin's gaze locked on the workbench.

She spotted her worn leather belt pouch caked with waxen pollen. Her heart raced, and she reached for the pouch with a trembling hand. When had she last checked inside? Had she thrown them away? Panic gripped her thoughts, and her fingers tripped over the leather straps. She pried loose the knot on the pouch's front flap and flipped it open.

Inside, a blue piece of atter crystal reflected the heartwood bow's red light.

Her heart soared. She hadn't touched the pouch in a month. She pushed aside the atter crystal and Arber's journal. Resting in a crease, she found it.

With a shaking hand, she picked free a round black seed and held it high between her fingertips. "We haven't tried this seed. No warden ever has."

"What kind of seed is it?" Kelwin said.

"The seed came from Obsith. From a piece of fruit Keely found at an oasis."

Kelwin inched closer and squinted. "How do you know it won't damage the heartwood?"

"I don't," she said. How could she without trying? "But, we have to take the risk."

Kelwin gave a reluctant nod. "I suppose you're right. Let's try it."

She knelt and nestled the seed deep in the moss layering the solarium floor. She channeled flows of nature magic into the seed.

A purple stalk emerged from the moss and grew three feet tall before she closed off the flows of energy.

A dozen fist-sized pieces of waxen fruit hung from the tree's pliable limbs.

She tugged on the fruit. With a reluctant snap, the stem popped free of the shrub. She held the fruit to her nose and inhaled its sweet aroma.

"What's it called?" Kelwin said.

She shrugged. "I don't know, but it's delicious." She twisted the fruit, and it split open spilling clear juice from sweet pink pulp. She offered half to Kelwin. "Here, taste it."

Kelwin took the fruit and bit into its soft flesh. Clear, fragrant juice dribbled down the warden's chin. Kelwin chewed a moment before swallowing. "I've never tasted anything like it. Sweet but not overpowering. A hint of honey mixed with a light vanilla flavor."

"Let's hope the heartwood likes it as much as you do." She perched on the stool and held the fruit's pulpy mass over the living heartwood. With a gentle squeeze, she dribbled clear juice over the bow's upper riser.

The wood’s gold grains swirled around the juice. Nothing noticeable happened.

She closed her eyes and wove green flows of nature magic through the juice.

Phosphorescent light sparked to life. Shifting shades of gold and bronze roamed the bow's surface. The heartwood's grains swirled.

She opened her mind to the heartwood and gasped.

The wood hummed as if in pure joy. The heartwood pulled the glowing liquid deep into its core.

"Danielle!" Kelwin gripped her shoulders and laughed.

Her stomach seesawed and her jaw fell open.

The heartwood beneath her fingertips shifted and blurred. Her mind raced, and she pushed her thoughts deeper into the heartwood's core.

Golden light wove with red forming a deeper red grain speckled with pockets of golden pigment. Light burst from the bow's surface and rushed upward toward the glass ceiling.

She gasped and jerked backward. Beneath her, the stool legs wobbled and she grabbed hold of the workbench. She craned her neck upward tracing the light through the glass.

Kelwin gasped. "Danielle, look around you."

Golden flows of energy wrapped her body. At her waist, a rope of energy connected to the heartwood.

Red and gold light angled through the southwest section of the glass ceiling.

"It's pointing toward the desert," she said. "I'd bet anything we find a heartwood at the other end."

"We can follow the thread." Kelwin jumped up and flung the stool away. The warden grabbed hold of an apple tree's lowest limbs and clambered upward.

Her heart hammered, and she turned her gaze toward the bow. Her legs turned to mush.

The heartwood's surface dimmed, and the light wrapping her body faded.

She staggered toward the workbench and gripped its moss covered sides. She tried to force calm through her panicked mind, but found the chore impossible.

The bow's light faded retreating deep into its core like an ember snuffed out by a heavy downpour.

Her breathing labored and her hands trembled.

Kelwin appeared over her shoulder, and green energy swirled in his palm. The warden sent the flows toward the heartwood and wrapped it inside a cocoon of nature magic.

Her head spun, but she focused her mind into the heartwood. "No...." The word came out as a faint croak. She steadied herself against the workbench.