Scent of Magic (18 page)

“Someone needs to bring the survivors together. I’d thought I’d lend a hand.”

We asked Saul about his past, but he was reluctant to share anything besides the fact he was born in Tobory.

When it grew late, I stood, stretched and smoothed out my bedroll. “Should we set a watch?” I asked Thea.

“Yes. Take the first shift. Wake Saul in two hours, and I’ll go last,” Thea said.

“All right.” I checked my belt, making sure my knives were secured, then scanned the forest for a good spot.

“Why do you do that?” Saul asked.

“I’m looking for—”

“Not that.” He pointed at my hand. “Touching the leaves.”

Without thinking, I had grabbed a bush, hoping to feel Kerrick’s magic. How to explain it? “I’m seeking a connection.”

“To the forest?” Saul asked.

“Yes.”

He accepted it without asking further questions. Saul and Thea settled in for the night, and I made a sweep around our camp, checking for intruders before I found a location to watch and listen.

Once again I fingered a leaf. No tingle vibrated through my fingers. I hadn’t lied to Saul. To me, connecting to the forest meant linking to Kerrick. Loneliness etched a familiar groove into my heart. Worry for Kerrick flared along with the real possibility that I’d never see him again.

* * *

We found the first clump of Lilys the next day. Four giant white flowers grew between two massive oak trees. I sniffed the air. The scent of honey and lemons dominated. I wouldn’t pick up the slighter scents of anise or vanilla until I was closer.

I removed my pack and handed it to Saul. His queasy expression matched Thea’s. Even though I explained to them about my immunity to the Death Lily toxin, they hadn’t truly believed me. Approaching a Lily went against a lifetime of avoidance and fear.

“Relax,” I said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

I walked toward the flowers, and the clean smell of vanilla greeted me. All four were Peace Lilys. Perfect.

When I reached the base of the closest flower, I placed my hands on a thick petal, hoping it would recognize or remember me. The plants’ roots were all connected. But nothing happened. I tried the next one, then the other two. Same thing. Nothing.

“Now what?” Thea asked.

“We try another set,” I said.

We consulted Saul’s borrowed map and headed farther north to a clump. Again, it contained all Peace Lilys. Again, they refused to open or acknowledge me.

“Should we return?” Thea asked.

“No. We need to locate a Death Lily so I can find out what’s going on.”

Saul and Thea exchanged a glance. One of those she-lost-her-mind-and-should-we-humor-her? looks.

“You can go back,” I said. “There is one Death Lily for every hundred Peace Lilys, so it might take a while.”

They stayed with me. We found one the next day in a clump of Lilys northeast of Zabin. The Death Lily hissed when I approached. Its petals opened as its vines reached for me. Large seed pods hung below its fibrous leaves. Knives and swords couldn’t cut through any part of the plant, but I wondered if a weapon made of liquid metal could.

The speed of the Lily still surprised me, even after being snatched a number of times. Softness scooped me up, then instant blackness as the petals clamped shut. I braced for either pricks in my arms or for it to spit me out.

Last time I’d been in a Death Lily, it had rejected me, claiming I tasted bad. I’d been in the last stage of the plague and had hoped it would take away my pain.

However, this time two sharp thorns pierced my upper arms as the Lily shot its toxin into me. Peace flowed over me, and my consciousness floated from my body, along the plant’s roots and into its soul. Through this connection, not only was I able to see outside the Lily, but I felt its emotions and basic thoughts, as well.

Recognition and joy emanated from the plant. Also approval over my new taste. From my encounters with the Lilys, I sensed the Death Lilys and Peace Lilys were two separate beings spread over multiple plants.

I inquired about the Peace Lilys, asking why they wouldn’t open for me.
I need its sacks,
I thought.
It’s important
.

It didn’t know, but it showed me a cluster of Lilys west of our location, urging me to go there.

Why?

Find what you need.

And before it could expel me, I asked why the Peace Lily saved my life when I’d died from the plague.

No save.

Yes, it did. Why?

Instead of answering, the Lily removed the thorns. My awareness snapped back into my body as it dumped me onto the ground. Feeling heavy and awkward, I remained there for a minute. Once I recovered from the transition, I realized I held two orange sacks in my hands.

The Death Lily had given me its deadly toxin. I’d no idea why. The soft round casing of the sack was durable, and I could squeeze it without popping it. Tohon had used a metal needle to extract the poison. He had injected it into children, theorizing that the survivors of the toxin would become healers. His hypothesis had been accurate, but at the deplorable cost of dozens of young lives.

I felt a measure of satisfaction that I’d been able to kill Tohon’s Death Lilys, and to rescue the only survivors of Tohon’s experiments, Danny and Zila. At least they were safe and sound in Ryne’s castle.

I lumbered to my feet and joined Saul and Thea. They’d waited a safe distance away. Saul handed me my pack.

“Well?” Thea asked. “What happened?”

Tucking the sacks into a pocket of my bag, I debated how much to tell them. “It directed me to another cluster west of here. Saul, can I see the map?”

He handed it to me.

“Why there?” Thea asked.

“It believes I’d get a response from a Peace Lily there.” I unfolded the map, searching for the spot. There was a mark due west of our location, but it was a few miles over the border in Vyg.

“Did you find it?” Thea asked.

I showed her.

“No can do. Time to go back to camp.”

“It’s not that far into Vyg. We’ll be safe,” I said.

“Major Granvil ordered us to stay out of Vyg.”

“All right. When we get to the border, I’ll go in alone.”

“Are you disobeying a direct order, Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir.”

She glanced at Saul.

“I’ll go in with her,” he said.

I sensed her indecision and tried another tactic. “We don’t need to tell Major Granvil. I’m sure he’ll just be happy that the mission was a success.”

“And when we encounter one of Tohon’s patrols and are captured or killed?” Thea asked.

“Then violating a direct order won’t seem that bad in comparison,” I joked.

Saul laughed.

Thea scowled. “I don’t think you’re fully aware of the danger, Sergeant.”

My good humor disappeared. “I’m
well aware
of the consequences, Lieutenant. More than anyone. If this mission wasn’t vital, I wouldn’t risk our lives.”

She stared at me for a moment. “First sign of an enemy patrol—”

“We’re out of there,” I agreed.

“So you can sneak back?” Saul asked.

“Hush.” I slapped him on the arm. This wasn’t a good time for him to be chatty.

Thea didn’t look happy, but she grabbed the map and took point, heading west.

Once we reached the border with Vyg, we slowed and kept alert for Tohon’s troops. We encountered no one from either side. It took us two days to reach the cluster that the Death Lily had indicated. We found them in the late afternoon. There were a number of Lilys bunched together just like the vision the plant had shown me, but there was one Lily that stood apart. It grew between two tree trunks and seemed familiar.

Focusing on the ones I’d seen, I approached them. The scents of anise and vanilla filled the air, indicating three Peace Lilys and one Death. When I reached them, nothing happened. Not even the Death Lily twitched when I touched it. Frustrated, I pulled my stiletto. It had been made from liquid metal and might inflict damage. But I just couldn’t bring myself to harm the Lilys.

Instead, I tried the lone Lily. A faint scent of vanilla tickled my nose. Another Peace Lily. Expecting it to remain immobile, I was surprised when it dipped its petals toward me.

Finally! I waited for it to grab me, but it kept bending until the top of the flower brushed the ground. The petals opened and deposited a naked man.

I froze in shock for a moment before kneeling down next to the immobile figure.

Recognition pierced my heart, and I gasped.

Flea lay there. It appeared he’d been perfectly preserved except his clothes had dissolved. His skin was bone-white, and his open eyes were dull and lifeless. Still dead.

Fresh grief swelled. When I closed his eyes, a spark shot through my fingertips. A second later, an ice-cold hand grasped my wrist with surprising strength. I stared at Flea’s now open eyes. Had the movement been a reflex? Or had he been turned into one of Tohon’s dead? Fear rose as his grip turned painful.

KERRICK

Standing behind a leafy barberry bush, Kerrick watched the warriors. He counted men and noted weapons, seeking weaknesses. The four units of his army were moving into position—two to the south, one to the west and the other east. It had taken them six days, but they had been able to reach the forest in time to set up an ambush. Kerrick had used his forest magic to camouflage his skin and clothes to blend in with the lush foliage so he could spy on them. The living green was irritated by all the intruders—at least eleven hundred by his count.

The pale-skinned warriors wore white cotton sleeveless shirts and baggy white pants. Colorful sashes around their waists kept them from looking like ghosts against the greenery. Even their long hair braided down their backs was pale yellow.

They carried a thick short sword on their hips and had a dagger tucked into their sashes. The sword’s two-foot-long blade was oddly shaped. It started out straight but then widened and curved at the bottom. The end looked as if it had been chopped off. He guessed it was a dadao sword. Kerrick had heard about them but had never seen one.

Regardless of the name, it appeared deadly and ideal for close-quarter fighting. Which was surprising considering the tribesmen acted as if they were very uncomfortable with their location. They jumped at every little noise and kept craning their necks to peer up into the treetops.

The wildlands were flat and wide-open. And Kerrick remembered learning that the tribes followed the herds of snow ufas nicknamed snufas as they migrated. A distant cousin of the ufa, the snufa was the size of a bull with long deadly horns and white shaggy hair. The tribes hunted them with spears. Besides eating the meat, they also used their pelts for tents and clothing. Of course, those heavy garments would be useless in this warmer climate.

While the tribesmen had the advantage of numbers, Kerrick’s troops had experience with fighting in the woods. He hoped it would be enough.

Kerrick returned to their temporary headquarters near the edge of the forest to consult and coordinate with his four majors one last time. They had erected a small tent for their use.

“The tribesmen will be settling in soon,” Kerrick said. “The moon will be just bright enough tonight. When the leaves shake, that’ll be my signal to launch the attack. By the time they realize what’s going on, we should have the upper hand.”

“Uh, Kerrick,” Danny said from behind him.

He rounded on the boy. “Shouldn’t you be helping feed the soldiers?”

Standing just inside the tent’s flaps, Danny swallowed. “We’re done. Cold rations take half the time to serve.” He held up a handful of beef jerky. “I brought this for you.”

“Sorry.” Kerrick took the jerky and studied the boy.

Danny and Zila had been helping with the cooking in Major Sondra’s unit since they’d been discovered. Although Kerrick had wanted to send them back to Orel immediately, he couldn’t spare the men and horses at that time. However, tonight they would be sitting on a horse along with two guards at a safe distance away from the fighting. If Kerrick’s army failed, he would signal them and they would take off to warn Izak.

“What do you need?” Kerrick asked him when he didn’t leave. Despite disobeying him, Danny had proven useful these past six days. Danny reminded him of Avry—a good and bad thing.

“Shouldn’t you make sure the tribesmen plan to attack us? Maybe they’re not looking for war, but for food or warmth.”

Major Volker snorted with amusement. “The tribesmen are always looking for war, son.”

“But that was
before
the plague. Maybe they changed.”

Volker gave Kerrick a pointed glare. Kerrick didn’t like the stout man but did admire his military savvy. He was about to explain to Danny the reasons for the ambush, when he reconsidered.

Instead he asked, “What are you suggesting?”

“That we send in someone with a white flag of truce and find out what they’re doing here,” Danny said.

“Ridiculous,” Volker said.

“If they’re here to fight, then we lose the element of surprise. It’s our biggest advantage,” Kerrick said.

“So you’re just going to kill them without learning more? What if they’re here for another reason?” Danny asked.

“The tribes don’t travel south unless they’re on the warpath, son. Our history books are filled with their heinous acts,” Volker said in a condescending tone.

“Sometimes history books are wrong.” Danny appealed to Kerrick. “Look at what everyone said about the healers refusing to heal those with the plague, but it turned out to be all wrong.”

And that did it. Kerrick had been about to agree with Volker, but Danny made a valid point.

“If the army is already in the attack position, we can react right away if the response to our flag of truce is negative,” General Zamiel said.

Kerrick agreed, despite knowing the majors wouldn’t be happy at all.

* * *

Striding toward the warriors’ camp, Kerrick wasn’t happy about the situation either. If, by some miracle, Danny had been right and the tribes weren’t on the warpath, then this encounter would save many lives. It was worth the effort.