Awakening (Redeemer Chronicles Book 1) Page 2

  “When the time is right, he will come to us.”

  Katrina’s still staring deep into nothing. Though I don’t doubt my friend, I stifle the urge to kick her. Katrina is no Minder, but Saroth can be infuriatingly cryptic when they want to be, which happens to be most of the time. Sudden doubts grip me once again.

  “Are we crazy? Should we have stayed at the cabin?”

  “You are crazy-easy to sneak up on,” scolds Tellen, “but we definitely needed to leave your zombie-infested home.”

  “Hi, Tellen,” I greet him.

  “We knew exactly where you were,” Katrina insists calmly. “Your odor preceded you as usual.” She glances up to see if the insult will get a rise from Tellen.

  He grunts and tosses a mock scowl at Katrina.

  “And here I was going to share this grand treasure I found, but if you’d rather I keep the blueberries to myself—”

  “Blueberries!” I might have squeaked a little. They’re my favorite, and they never grow in the bushes around my home.

  “Are you sure they are not baydonberries again?” Katrina inquires. “It is not exactly the right season for blueberries.”

  The thought quenches some of my enthusiasm.

  “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?” Tellen groans.

  “Nope,” I answer, forcing a weak smile. My stomach clenches at the thought of the disastrous surprise he’d given us about a year ago. Baydonberries look almost exactly like blueberries, except that they have tiny white flecks in the fleshy part. They taste almost the same too. Unfortunately, they have amazingly thorough cleansing abilities. I think I puked up everything but my intestines and then had other unpleasant side effects for two days.

  “People tend to remember when you almost kill them,” Katrina points out.

  “These are the real thing,” Tellen insists. “Look.” He reaches into his pocket and draws forth a fat, luscious berry. “I’ll prove it.” With a flick of his wrist, Tellen flings the berry up into the air and moves to catch it in his mouth.

  Faster than I can track, Katrina turns into a snake, coils, and springs, intercepting the berry mid-flight. She spits it at the fire where it explodes with a force strong enough to knock Tellen back a step.

  “Whoa!” Even in the flickering firelight, Tellen’s skin looks paler now.

  Back in human form, Katrina frowns, looking both surprised and annoyed with herself for intervening.

  “You really should leave the berry hunting to Vic.”

  I agree, but I’m too stunned to speak. My mouth just opens and closes for a while. Normal baydonberries will briefly turn a flame a deep purple color, but I’ve never heard of one exploding.

  “Perhaps you should remove the rest from your pockets,” Katrina suggests.

  Tellen fumbles in his right pocket, only too eager to comply. In his haste, he drops another one into the fire. It bursts into flames, causing a shower of sparks to fly out at us. I duck instinctively, dunking my chin into my stew bowl. Setting the bowl aside, I brush my chin with the back of my hand, hoping nobody saw that.

  While I recover my dignity, Katrina assumes her snake form and curls into a defensive coil. She stays like that for three heartbeats beyond the last spark’s death before returning to normal.

  “Where did you find them?” I ask.

  “Just over there,” Tellen says, pointing back up the way we’d come this afternoon. “Behind that outcropping. There must be hundreds of them up there.”

  “Show me,” orders Katrina. The next instant she’s a dog on high alert. Her ears perk up and her muscles tense. She barks and nips at Tellen’s heels to let him know she means business.

  Tellen looks like he wants to protest, but the cold glint in Katrina’s eyes convinces him resistance would be futile—and possibly painful.

  “Stay here,” he orders me, before taking off at a sprint.

  Stay here by myself with a dying fire. Uh, no, not a chance.

  Weariness flees me as I leap to my feet, put out the fire, and race after my friends.

  Chapter 3:

  Tellen

  Katrina Polani

  Path to the Baydonberry Patch

  Is he dumb or devious or something else entirely? Tellen could hardly have meant us harm if he tried to eat the first berry himself. Did he know I would intercede? Part of me wishes I had not bothered intercepting that evil fruit. The baydonberries Vic and I ate last year certainly made us violently ill, but this would have been far worse. One may not have killed Tellen, but getting sick would serve him right.

  I do not mean that. I wish I did, but I cannot bring myself to hate him. I put up a good front so Vic will not know of my true feelings. As I have mentioned, if Vic knows something, the world knows it soon thereafter. Truthfully, I do not know if I understand my feelings toward Tellen.

  He is loyal to Vic, but he keeps to himself. Like all Arkonai huntsmen, he comes and goes as he pleases, though if trouble comes he will likely be present to lend aid. His people and mine share the loner status. Despite their flaws, the Arkonai always honor their contracts. The same cannot be said for my people, but then again, Saroth rarely hire out their services. We do as we like when we like. While a freeing philosophy, I can see where this attitude has gotten us into trouble in times past and how it may bring more trouble soon.

  A thick branch appears before me and I barely duck in time to avoid a serious headache. Master Talini always said to focus on the chase while in dog form. She rarely uses dog form, preferring to be a hawk for traveling purposes. I wish I could turn into a flying creature such as a hawk, but Master Talini refuses to teach me the skill. She thinks me unready for the unique challenges of true flight.

  In truth, I sense Father’s influence at work in the reluctance. He probably fears I’ll get myself shot by some ignorant Bereft hunter out to prove his prowess with a bow and arrow. While a legitimate fear, I do not subscribe to his logic. After all, Master Talini taught me how to become a beetle. I would wager my human form weight in gold that the danger of being maliciously squashed under a boot far exceeds the threat of a thrill hunter’s arrow.

  Tellen halts abruptly in front of me. I take my snake form because it has a quicker reaction time. Unable to halt my forward momentum, I throw my body upward and right, looping thrice around the tree next to Tellen.

  “We should—”

  An arrow zips toward Tellen, causing him to abandon the rest of his statement. He drops into a crouch and draws the twin daggers from the sheaths at his waist. Three more arrows slam into the tree I occupy. I turn myself into a beetle and tremble with suppressed rage. I could have been pinned to that tree for the rest of my short life had those arrows found their mark.

  Using the energy from the anger, I fly further up into the tree, turning back into a human only once I am perched high above the would-be battleground.

  Vic arrives belatedly and stares incredulously at the three arrows in the tree next to Tellen. Then, her eyes start glowing. She clamps her mouth shut to keep the light from her teeth inside, but the effort is wasted because her bracers do their magic thing. Normally, Vic’s bracers take on a thin form that looks like a pair of gaudy, silver bracelets, but if powerful magic approaches they consume her forearm from wrist to elbow and blaze with blinding light.

  “Get down!” Tellen hisses.

  Before Vic can move, two zombies appear with greedy arms outstretched as if to embrace my slight friend. I wince as Vic’s scream echoes down the mountainside. If there are other enemies in the area, they now know exactly where to find us.

  Tellen’s daggers flash several times in the light streaming off of Vic, quickly dispatching the zombie attackers. Decayed arms and legs thud to the ground.

  Four right fists pierce the ground simultaneously, surrounding Vic. Then, time slows as one after another of the new zombies drag their bodies from the disturbed soil and reach for Vic from every side. She ducks under swinging arms—and glowing swords—and weaves in and out of dange
r almost quicker than my eyes can track.

  The swords carried by the undead are not natural weapons. They can cut through flesh, bone, and spirit. Generally, zombies can be easily defeated, but their swords make them dangerous, for a small nick can sap one’s will to fight as surely as a sweeping, mortal wound.

  One particularly bold zombie launches himself at Vic, mouth open to tear into her. Instinctively, she whips her right forearm up to intercept the eager teeth. The zombie chomps down on Vic’s bracer then howls with pain. The desperate cry momentarily baffles the other attackers.

  The distraction is exactly what Tellen and I need to dispatch the remaining zombies. Tellen buries both daggers in the nearest zombie’s chest while I turn to my snake form.

  Dropping onto one attacker’s head, I wrap myself tightly around its neck before leaping toward the next one. As I reach the next zombie, I release the first’s head. The neck snaps with a satisfying crunch. In a similar manner, I wrap around the second zombie’s head then leap to the tree where I had first dropped down. As I prepare to dispatch the last zombie, I see further intervention is unnecessary. The zombie that bit Vic’s bracer stands like a statue, face twisted in agony and arms held wide as if he would hug her.

  Vic stares up at the creature invading her personal space. She looked even younger than one who has recently reached her teens.

  Tellen reaches out a cautious finger and touches the zombie in front of Vic. It crumbles into ash and blows away on unholy wind.

  For a long moment, nobody moves.

  “What just happened?” Tellen asks, voicing the thought that had jammed itself inside my head and refused to come out.

  In animal form, I can sometimes tap into extra senses. I felt more trouble the instant before another three arrows flew at Vic. A warning cry dies in my throat as Tellen’s eyes widened and he raises a hand toward Vic. Worry nearly crushes my lungs.

  Time slows again and Vic’s mysterious powers take over once more. This time, she stands firm, glowing from the bracers, mouth, and eyes. Calmly, she forms fists, holds them side by side in front of her face, and leans forward as if to rest her head on them. Then, she throws back her head, shuts her eyes, and makes three grabbing motions. Each grasp results in her plucking an arrow out of flight and flinging it back at its source.

  I know not what expression I wore, nor even what form I had at the time, but Tellen nearly dropped his precious daggers. Luckily for us, Vic’s aim was true, and the three zombie archers fell in a neat row with arrows in their foreheads. Their pale, gray skin stretches tight over gaunt, emaciated features which are locked in grimaces. Even in real death, they look angry with Fate. The three archers had the few scraps of tangled black hair tied back with leather cords, forming ponytails high on their otherwise smooth skulls.

  The light vanishes from Vic and she collapses in a heap, making me think another arrow had somehow breached her scary defenses. Dropping to the ground beside my friend, I reach out to touch her cheek.

  She wakes up in time to catch my hand then yawns mightily.

  “Did I miss something?”

  “Small brawl with zombies; nothing important,” Tellen assures her.

  Struggling to sit up, Vic glances around.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”

  I exchange a glance with Tellen then nod at Vic.

  “How come I always faint during combat?” Vic wonders.

  “This is only the second fight we’ve been in,” Tellen reminds her. He pauses to help Vic to her feet. “Give it time. I’m sure there will be plenty of fights ahead.”

  I pierce the idiot with a glare.

  “That issssssss sooooooo reasssssuring.”

  Vic turns to me, amused.

  “I didn’t know you could talk as a snake.”

  Returning to my human form, I say, “It takes more concentration than usual to speak while in an animal form. Most Shapeshifters do not bother, but this is hardly the time for idle chatter. We should leave. This place is evil.”

  By this time, the zombies had disintegrated.

  “I thought you wanted to check on the baydonberries.” Tellen waves around us. “Here’s your chance.”

  The area around us brims with baydonberry bushes.

  “No, that’s okay,” Vic says swiftly. “My curiosity’s satisfied.”

  Though we survived without a scratch, my interest is piqued. Why did Tellen lead us here? Certainly he killed some of the creatures, but he could also be complicit in summoning them in the first place. One would need a powerful artifact or a willing Saroth Conjurer to create that many zombies. What was the point?

  “Suit yourself, but I’m curious. I’m going to take some to study later.” Taking a small pouch from his belt, Tellen carefully gathers berries from several different bushes.

  “Hurry,” I say, “we should return to camp and rest. We will need to push hard if we want to reach Coldhaven by tomorrow evening.”

  With his task finished, Tellen starts down the path toward our camp.

  I sense someone—or something—watching us, but Vic already looks ill with unease so I keep the fact to myself.

  Chapter 4:

  Grander Games

  The Lady

  Ruins of the Earth Temple, Neutral Ground

  Tremendous power often carries an unexpected price.

  I cloak my presence from the hooded figure patiently awaiting the Supreme Huntmaster’s arrival. I do not need to see Jackson Castaloni’s face to know he resembles the dead more than the living. His pale skin bears more wrinkles than it ought to for a man his age, and his dark eyes appear perpetually tired.

  If he knew I could see into his dark heart, read his surface thoughts, and witness his secret meeting, he would take measures to neutralize my efforts. Though he can hardly hurt me directly, Jackson knows enough to hurt that which I deem most precious. I fear my efforts to curb his ambitions have proven quite futile.

  Though Jackson’s mind cannot be influenced, I am not without resources. The current resource—Alec Castaloni—hardly leaves his master’s side. As an inquisitive child and Jackson’s apprentice, Alec makes a lovely conduit for my questions.

  “Uncle Jack, why are we here? Why is the head huntsman coming?” The boy’s voice rings with crystal clear innocence.

  I feel the flash of anger burn deep within Jackson, but it dissipates quickly. As the son of Jackson’s dead younger brother, Alec may be the one person the Saroth Conjurer cannot stay angry with.

  To my disappointment, Jackson merely grunts, and says, “Quiet, boy, watch and learn, and when the Arkonai arrives, keep silent.”

  Despite my eagerness to press the point, I dare not risk arousing Jackson’s anger this early in the day. He loves the child to distraction, but he often takes discipline too far. I may not be above using a child to voice questions, but I will not become a cause for that child to be beaten.

  “If you’ll not answer the question for the boy, answer it for me,” says a voice from the shadows. Supreme Huntmaster Jordan Lekros calmly rises from a crouch and steps into the light of the lantern Jackson has set up in the center of the massive stone table. The table and the nine crumbling pillars arranged in a circle around it are the only remains of an ancient temple honoring Kailon for the fertile earth and abundant harvests.

  Surprise blossoms within Jackson but the hood hides his expression. He deepens his voice as he intones, “You are late.”

  “And you are wasting my valuable time,” returns Jordan Lekros. “State your business.”

  “I have a mutually beneficial proposition,” Jackson promises.

  “You have nothing I want.” The Supreme Huntmaster’s face is inscrutable, but I sense his impatience.

  “I know much about you that even you do not.” Jackson has no intention of revealing his knowledge right now, but the thought surfaces in his mind, allowing me access to it.

  My surprise at the revelation causes Alec to flinch, but the men are too intent on their verbal
dance to notice.

  “I am a simple man,” Jordan Lekros declares. “I have few secrets and fewer still to care if they’re revealed, so if it’s blackmail you—”

  “Far from it,” Jackson practically purrs. “For example, I know that you and I share a goal.” He pauses to give the Supreme Huntmaster a chance to inquire, but only silence answers him.

  “Tell him, Uncle Jack,” Alec urges at my prompting.

  The interruption earns Alec an icy glare, but Jackson complies.

  “You and I both want to punish the Saverons for the past.”

  The Supreme Huntmaster’s expression remains impassive, but for the first time his voice carries a hint of interest in the conversation.

  “Daniel Saveron is a good man. I do not wish him dead, and Victoria is an innocent.”

  He lies. He does wish Daniel Saveron’s death, though his surface thoughts do not reveal why.

  A mixture of revulsion and loathing sweeps through Jackson, but no trace of these emotions reaches his voice as he tries to set the Supreme Huntmaster’s mind at ease.

  “I bear the girl no ill will. She is my niece, after all. My sister, misguided though she was, carried the blood of my family within her.”

  “You had your sister murdered,” Jordan Lekros states flatly.

  “There’s no—”

  “There’s no need for proof when everybody knows the truth.” The Supreme Huntmaster levels a steely gaze at Jackson. “I have better things to do than hear you prattle about the past. Reports of undead attacks are increasing. If I find you’re responsible, I will kill you.”

  “I am but a humble Conjurer. It would take far more power than mine to raise so many undead. Indulge me a moment longer, and you will know how I can help both of our peoples.”

  The Supreme Huntmaster nods curtly and scoffs at Jackson’s false modesty. Lekros stands stiffly, his posture reflecting his reluctance to hear Jackson’s proposal.

  Undaunted, Jackson says, “You have a problem, my friend. You cannot kill Daniel Saveron without more than half of your people turning against you.”