Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) (65 page)

Sabine’s fingers tightened on Kenders’ shoulder, her eyes wide and intense.

“Forget that you said the Cabal killed your parents? Sorry, but I can’t do that. Tell me what that means.”

Kenders sighed, lifted her head, and stared at her friend.

“I can’t, Sabine. Truly, I can’t.”

Sabine took a step back and stared at her for a long, quiet moment. Her stare grew chilly.

“Are Helene and I in danger by being with you?”

Kenders winced before muttering, “Perhaps. We don’t know. But, I think Nik and Broedi are right. You are safer with us than without.”

“I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”

Kenders dropped her head to stare at the dusk-lit grass. “No, I don’t suppose I would, either.” She wavered for a moment, poised to tell Sabine everything, but managed to hold firm. Hoping to cause a drastic change in subject, she forced herself to smile and looked up. “Actually, there’s one thing I can tell you.”

“What?”

Leaning closer to Sabine, she murmured, “I think my brothers are both taken with you.”

For a moment, Sabine gave no indication she had even heard what Kenders said, her face remaining blank. Kenders had knocked the young woman off balance, which was exactly what she had hoped to do. Finally, Sabine sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I have enough to worry about. I will not add men to the list.”

“I’m simply warning you. They would never admit it, but I’ve seen the way they stare at you when they think no one is looking.”

Shaking her head, Sabine said, “Were I interested—and I’m not—I would not know where to begin. I’ve never been around anyone near my own age.”

“Understood. But you should know they are both good souls. And I’m not just saying that because—” She stopped speaking as she caught a flicker of a movement amongst the ruins.

Sabine turned, following Kenders’ gaze, and asked, “What? Did you see something?”

“I’m…not sure. See that opening up there, in the tower?”

“Yes.”

“I swore something moved past it.”

They both stood motionless on the hill, watching the ruins. Bathed in dusk’s light, the fort seemed almost sinister now, whereas before it had been majestic.

As the moments passed and neither of them saw anything unusual, Kenders began to doubt herself. With her eyes still fixed on the ancient stronghold, she mumbled, “Let’s go get the water and hurry back before it gets dark.”

“No bath?”

“I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Sabine turned and resumed walking down the slope. Kenders remained in place a moment longer, staring at the fort. Something about the ruins made her uneasy, something she could not name. She let out a tiny sigh and turned to follow Sabine when she felt a small, white crackling. A moment later, she heard Broedi’s voice, urgent and firm, right beside her.

“Uora. Both of you must hurry back. Now.”

Kenders spun to her left, expecting the hillman to be there while wondering how he had managed to sneak up on her. The only being there, however, was Smoke. The horse stared at her and nickered.

“I am up the hill, uora.”

Looking up the slope, she saw Broedi staring down at her. Jak was at his side, waving his arms anxiously. Answering her unasked question, the hilllman said, “It is a Weave of Air, uora. One to send one’s words. Now, hurry back. Quietly.” He sounded as worried as Jak looked.

Kenders did not bother wondering why he wanted them to return. If Broedi was upset, his reason was good. Turning around, she called in a hushed shout, “Sabine!” Two dozen paces down the hill, Sabine stopped and looked back. Keeping her voice low, Kenders said, “We need to go back.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Broedi told us to come back—now.”

Sabine’s gaze drifted up the hill.

“How did he—?”

“The Strands. Let’s go. It sounded important.”

Understanding lit up Sabine’s face like a flash of lightning at night, and she started scrambling up the hill. Kenders waited for her then turned and hurried up the slope, tugging Smoke’s reins behind her.

Halfway up, Kenders felt the crackling of magic again, pure green this time. Strands of Life. As she looked up, wondering what Broedi was doing, the bright white sensation of Air filled her a second time. A Weave quickly came together before the hillman. The moment it seemed complete, it faded from sight. A stiff wind blew past the girls, staggering them as it rushed to the river below, flattening a swath of prairie grass as it went.

Kenders and Sabine were both out of breath by the time they reached the hill’s crest. When they had left, Broedi and her brothers had been preparing camp, but now the area looked pristine. Not a single blade of grass was bent. In fact, the moment someone lifted their foot, the grass below would stand straight, any creases straightening in an instant.

Jak, Nikalys, and Broedi were all facing northwest, staring at the grassy horizon. Helene had both arms wrapped tightly around Nikalys’ leg.

Hurrying to stand with them, Kenders asked between ragged breaths, “What’s happening?”

Broedi looked over and said, “We must go. Quickly and quietly. Lead the horses—no one rides.” Pulling the reins of the spare horse and Sabine’s mare, he began to move toward the fort.

Staring at Broedi’s back, Kenders asked, “Go where?” When the hillman did not respond, she looked to her brothers. “What’s going on?”

Nikalys scooped up Helene, held her in the crook of his arm, and hurried after Broedi, his expression grim. He glanced at the girls as he passed but said nothing to them as he was murmuring words of comfort to a visibly afraid Helene.

Looking to her other brother, Kenders said, “Jak?”

He stood, holding the leads to Hal and Goshen. Looking over, he held out Hal’s reins to Sabine and said, “Here. We can talk while we walk.” After Sabine took the leather straps, the three of them began hurrying after Broedi and Nikalys. Keeping his voice low, Jak said, “We were making camp when Broedi suddenly stands up, straight as a wagon pole, and looks back that direction.” He motioned with his head behind them to the northeast. “Then he looks at Nik and me and says in that bizarrely calm way of his, ‘Horses are coming.’”

Panic rushed through Kenders, shocking her like a leap into cold water. “Bandits? Or…something else?” She was being vague on purpose.

After shooting a wary glance at Sabine, Jak said, “Broedi’s not sure. But he wants to avoid whoever it is. As soon as we picked up camp, he did something that made the grass grow again, smoothing it all over. Then there was a big gust of wind that blew all the way down to the river.”

“Why?” asked Kenders.

Jak shook his head.

“He didn’t say. He was too busy telling us to stay quiet.”

Sabine spoke, her tone cool and poised.

“It’s a false trail.”

Kenders looked over at Sabine. They young woman seemed infinitely less rattled than she was or Jak sounded.

“You’re probably right,” said Jak. “Didn’t think of that.”

“Why use magic, though?” asked Sabine. “I thought he wanted to avoid doing that.”

Kenders was in the midst of wondering the same thing. If agents of the Cabal were pursuing them, the chances were good that they had mages with them. If any of them could touch Air or Life, Broedi had just set off a small burst of light in a very dark room.

“Perhaps he hopes they’re bandits?” suggested Jak. ”If so, they’ll probably follow the false trail and think we crossed the river.”

Kenders glanced down at the wide, swift-moving Erona River. She doubted even the most brainless brigand would believe they had forded the water here. Looking back to Jak, she asked, “And if they’re not bandits?”

Jak shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

“Why are we running to the fort?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are we going inside?”

“I don’t know!” hissed Jak, clearly exasperated. “Broedi didn’t exactly share his plan. As always, he tells us what to do, we nod our heads, and then off we go.”

She stopped pestering Jak. He had no better idea what was happening than she did. Looking ahead, she found Broedi and Nikalys far ahead of them, the pair moving much faster than the rest of them could manage.

Feeling Sabine’s eyes on her, Kenders looked over. The young woman seemed to be on the verge of asking something, but instead pressed her lips together and turned faced forward, her expression calm and determined. Kenders breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

As they rushed, Kenders repeatedly glanced over her shoulder, looking for any movement on the horizon, but fading daylight thwarted her. Mu’s orb was gone for the day, and the reds and purples of dusk were already turning into warm grays. Night was near.

Soon, the stronghold loomed over them. A greenish-black moss covered parts of the stone walls giving the fort a strange, mottled look. The wall facing them was hundreds of paces wide and mostly intact except for a single, wide opening where the blocks had crumbled completely to the ground. It looked as if a giant axe had slammed down, almost cutting the fort in two.

Nikalys and Broedi had stopped near the gash in the wall to wait for them, both staring past Kenders’ group to the northwest horizon. Once everyone was together, they resumed walking, scuttling along the wall’s base, heading toward the northern tower. After they rounded the corner, the old fort blocked any remaining daylight, draping them in shadows.

Kenders glanced at Broedi and muttered, “Are you sure you heard someone coming?” Other than her own heavy breathing and the sounds of the group hurrying along, she had heard nothing.

“Yes, uora,” replied Broedi. “I am sure.” While he sounded calm, there was a definite undertone of urgency in his voice. “And they are getting closer. Keep moving.”

Kenders frowned and continued running along the wall. A couple dozen steps later, for just a moment, she felt a soft, muted burst of silver as if someone were weaving. Looking at Broedi and seeing nothing, she dismissed the flicker as her imagination gone awry. A moment later, she felt the tiny surge again. This time, she sensed the source was within the fort.

“Broedi? I’m not sure we should go in here.”

Without breaking stride, Broedi looked at her and asked, “Why is that, uora?”

She eyed the stronghold’s walls, her gaze traveling upwards as she ran. The towering walls were close enough for her to reach out and touch, but she did not want to. Frowning, she looked back to the hillman.

“Something does not feel right in there.”

Broedi stared at her, shaking his head as though he were having a difficult time understanding what he saw. He had yet to respond when, moments later, they came across an opening. Then, he rumbled, “Stop, please.”

Their group came to a halt, standing before a great archway nearly twenty feet tall that led into a dimly lit, grass-filled courtyard. Shadows swarmed the fort, uneven and misshapen shapes shrouding the interior. Crumbled stone structures littered the yard inside, once buildings but now nothing more than piles of rubble.

Kenders’ unease grew as she stared at the courtyard. Others apparently shared her disquiet.

Jak mumbled, “Now I wish we could wait for morning.”

“As do I,” rumbled Broedi.

Even the horses stomped their feet. Hal and Goshen tossed their heads, Smoke let out a low nicker.

The hillman took a few steps forward, peering into the yard. His nostrils flared, and he took two quick sniffs of evening air. A slight frown crossed his face. Glancing at Nikalys, he said, “Give the little one to her iskoa.”

Without questioning why, Nikalys moved over and handed a frightened Helene to Sabine. The toddler was sniffling, barely holding back tears. As she buried her face into Sabine’s neck, Nikalys moved back to Broedi’s side. The moment he did, the hillman whispered an unexpected order.

“Draw your sword, uori.”

Nikalys stared at Broedi, eyebrows arched.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Nikalys reached for the Blade of Horum’s hilt and drew the shimmering sword from its scabbard. The combination of White Moon’s reflected light paired with the Weave within the metal gave the blade a soft, white glow. Sabine let out a short gasp, staring at the sword. Nikalys had wisely kept the blade sheathed since meeting the Moiléne sisters. Glowing swords prompted questions.

With Nikalys holding the blade before him, Broedi took a single step forward and called—softly—through the archway.

“We mean you no harm if you mean us none.”

Kenders tensed. Perhaps her eyes had not been playing tricks on her earlier.

The White Lion took another step forward. “This place can be quite dangerous at night. I can offer you protection if you would like.” He tilted his head back and glanced at the sky. “Decide quickly, though. You do not have much time.”

Nothing stirred inside.

A moment later, Kenders heard a low rumbling, almost like distant thunder. Spinning around, she spotted a mass of tiny lights on the northeast horizon.

“Broedi?”

“I know, uora,” murmured the hillman. Raising his voice, he called back into the courtyard. “If you do not come forward by the time I count to three, I will send my master swordsman in to force you out.”

Nikalys’ head whipped around to face Broedi, his eyes opened a fraction wider than normal.

“One. Two. Thr—”

A man stepped from behind a stone pile and into a puddle of moonlight, a long wooden staff slung over his shoulder. Kenders stared, surprised. She had never seen a man with such dark skin.

“Come closer, please,” ordered Broedi.

The man stood in place for a moment before approaching the entranceway, leading a pale horse behind him. Stopping a few dozen paces away, he asked, “Who are you? And who are those men following you?” His speech was odd. His words seemed to flow together, each one connected to the other without a break in between.

“I promise I will explain,” rumbled Broedi. “Later.” He paused a moment, studying the man. “You are from the Borderlands, yes?”

The stranger’s gaze danced over each of them while he nodded slowly.

“I am.”

Kenders was stunned. She could not imagine what a Borderlander would be doing this far east.