Rebellion E-Book

Katelyn Costello

• Herausgeber: Katelyn Costello
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: The Frituals Saga
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 440

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Shauna Flynn grew up wanting to meet a Fritual.

She never thought she would be a Fritual, but now she isn’t alone. She has found three of the other Frituals, and like her, they are all trying to understand what they can do in a world that doesn’t want their magick to be shared.

Taytra Flynn wanted a purpose.

But she never thought her purpose would take her away from her family, away from her home. She never thought she would be branded a Rebel and the leader of an uprising.

But with the Dark One’s power closing in on them both sisters are left with the same question. Will I be strong enough to fight them again?

Leseprobe

Katelyn Costello

Rebellion

First published by Katelyn Costello 2019

Copyright © 2019 by Katelyn Costello

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Katelyn Costello asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

First edition

ISBN: 978-1-7335293-3-4

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com

This book is dedicated to my “kids” thank you for pushing me to be fun and creative both on and off stage. You inspire me every day.

“The more you are in the room working, experimenting, banging away at your objective, the more luck has a chance of biting you on the nose.”

Twyla Tharp

Contents

Acknowledgement

Taytra

Shauna

Shauna

Paulo

Nurzan

Barin

Barin

Lyra

Barin

Paulo

Barin

Lyra

Philippe

Taytra

Shauna

Ward

Taytra

Sam

Ward

Shauna

Jamie

Sam

Taytra

Paulo

Ward

Jamie

Philippe

Taytra

Taytra

Shauna

Barin

Lyra

Barin

Shauna

Barin

Paulo

Philippe

Taytra

Philippe

Philippe

Shauna

Philippe

Barin

Ward

Shauna

Barin

Sam

Taytra

Ward

Barin

Shauna

Coming Soon

About the Author

Also by Katelyn Costello

Acknowledgement

Thank you to Ethan for always keeping me on my stuffs, putting up with the wide range of my motivation and for taking me to the hospital the day I restarted this project… heh. Memories right?

To my theater kids, you don’t realize how much you telling me you had read the book, or asking me to sign your copy meant to me. I love you all.

To my beta’s Regina, Rebekah, and Caroline thank you for your insight and edits in early drafts it helped to make this book what it is.

Melanie, thank you for your clean editing.

Thank you, Jane, for helping to create the beautiful cover, and alllll the marketing materials. You da best.

1

Taytra

Taytra hisses into the pillow as the bandage comes off her back. The layer of healing herbs releases with a slight ripping sound.

“This is looking so much better, Taytra,” the healer says.

Taytra grunts in reply as the healer grabs a sponge and begins cleaning the bruises and cuts left over from the belt marks Ward had been forced to leave on her back. “I don’t think we need to put any more bandages on today. You’ll have to take it easy, and let your body get back to moving like normal.”

“Thank you. I appreciate all that you’ve done to help me,” Taytra says, waiting for the woman to leave.

“Of course, Lady Taytra,” the healer says with a bow.

Taytra sits up, clutching a blanket to her chest. “Jean.”

“Yes, Miss?” Jean asks.

“Remember, just Taytra or Tay. I am not a lady,” Taytra says with a smile.

“Right, sorry miss, uh Taytra,” Jean says before ducking out of the tent.

Taytra slides off the bed and moves across the floor to a mirror, turning to see her back. Some of the bruises are turning a disgusting greenish yellow, while some are still a dark purple. The swelling has all but disappeared, and as Jean said, the cuts have healed over. She opens a trunk of clothes and pulls out a loose linen shirt, a skirt, and a corset Jean had brought her with flexible leather boning to support her cuts. She pulls the clothes on and bends and stretches, feeling how her body reacts to the movement.

The knock on her tent’s pole is muffled by the fabric, but the fabric’s bounce alerts her to what she’s been waiting all day for – news. “Who is it?” she asks.

“It’s me,” Ward says. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, tugging at the edges of the corset.

It still surprises Taytra how much it comforts her to see him out of the black Dark One’s uniform. He’d even gone as far as to start to grow out a beard.

Ward ducks into the tent. “How are you doing?” he asks, sitting down on the only chair in the tent.

“Well, I don’t have to wear any more bandages,” she says, doing a little twirl.

“How bad are the bruises?” he asks quietly.

“Ward, it wasn’t your choice. It was what they wanted. We used it to our advantage,” she tells him for the umpteenth time. She waits until he looks up from his hands before she continues. “They’re coming along. Most of the bruises are green and yellow now. I should be fine in the next week or so,” Taytra says, sitting down on the bed. “I feel a lot better than before, I feel more mobile. It’s nice not to feel like I am going to die anymore.” He makes a face at her choice of words. “Stop it,” she says, punching him. “There’s no need for that.”

“I am going to keep making faces whenever you talk about how much pain you’re in until every bruise and mark is gone.”

“What if I said they were all gone tomorrow?” she retaliates.

“I- fine, you win. I would still make faces.”

Taytra sighs and flops back on the bed. She instantly regrets that and has to try not to make a face. Ward leans over to see how she will react. “Oh, stop that,” she says as she swats him back. “What did you come by for?” she asks.

“I need you to come over to the big tent. We had some new reports come in,” Ward replies.

“Really? Why didn’t you say so? Let’s go.” She jumps up and runs to the corner to pull her boots on.

“That’s a good look,” Ward says with a smirk.

She replies by grabbing a knife, eying him and the blade before sliding it into her boot. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she asks, already halfway out of the tent. She’s been waiting for new reports to come in for days. She starts into the little tent village they have set up on the edge of the woods. Each tent is created in a dark green and brown mottled fabric, so they would blend into the woods around them. There is a strict campfire rule. The only fire allowed to be going most days is the cook fire. There are too many Dark Ones swarming the area to risk being caught.

Sam’s tent is right next door to Taytra’s; he is sitting outside on a little stool with a few swords in front of him waiting to be sharpened. Since escaping the castle the little boy was never far from her side. He always wanted to be her little guard, and Taytra was fine with that. She wanted to keep an eye on him to make sure he was okay.

“Good morning Tay,” he says. “I just saw Miss Jean leave – is your back getting better?”

“Much better, thanks,” she says, pausing by his pile of swords. “Getting a lot of business, I see.” She glances over and sees Ward waiting for her just a few feet away.

“Oh, yeah! Each guard or soldier that needs something sharpened, comes to me to sharpen their swords. I even had an ax this morning. He already came back and got that back. But he said that I did a great job with that. He was going to tell his friends.” The pride on the boy’s face is contagious.

“That’s great Sam! I might need my knife sharpened soon. You know you’ll have my business as well. I have to go to a meeting, but I’ll see you later,” she says in farewell.

“Bye, Tay.” The slow and rhythmic sound of the whetstone sliding over the blade resumes.

“Any word on his family?” she whispers to Ward when they are a bit farther down the tent line.

He shakes his head. “All we know is that they were seen leaving the palace. It’s not certain if they found refuge in the city somewhere or if they made it out around the lake.” He glances over his shoulder at the boy. “He showed me yesterday what he’s made already. He wants to save as much coin as he can, so he can buy a sword and go into the city looking for them.”

Taytra stops in the middle of the path and grabs Ward’s arm. “You can’t let him. That boy is not leaving this camp,” she says fiercely.

“Tay, don’t worry. I’m not going to let him go. Miss Jean is going to keep an eye on him. He’s too young to be alone yet; we can’t have him getting hurt. Nurzan knows who he is. There is no way they would let him live if he stepped back into that city with the Dark Ones still in control.” He pats her hand as he talks and pulls her on. “Come on; we can talk more about what’s going on when we get to the big tent.”

The big tent fits its name as not only the biggest tent in the camp, but also the center of camp life, serving as the mess hall during meal shifts and a planning room for those in charge. Taytra doesn’t feel like she is in charge of anything but she, Ward, and Andrew are considered the head of the rebellion. At least, that was what was put out in the Dark Ones’ bounties for their return. The rabble that has gathered with them seem to think that this was enough. They named the two men generals and her a lady. It made no sense to her how she went from a farm girl to a lady, simply because she helped orchestrate a revolt. Andrew is already in the tent poring over a selection of paper, including a map of the kingdoms. “Good morning,” he says without looking up. He slides his hand along the table looking for a glass. He nearly tips it over before getting a grasp on it and lifting it to his lips.

“Hello, Andrew. What’s captured your attention?” she asks as she sits on the stool beside him.

He doesn’t respond at first, his eyes staying glued to the page and lips shaping the words. “Huh, oh right sorry, uh it’s a report about Nurzan. He left. He went back to Bulandon. Or at least the Dark One fort near there. The report doesn’t say how he got there so fast, but he’s gone from our lands.” He continues to scan the page. “It seems before he left he ordered everyone on the plain to come here looking for us, so we have the whole of this quadrant on our tail.” He points to a large dark smudge on the map.

“Well, wasn’t that a lovely parting gift,” Ward says, picking up another report. “These are our member info and numbers.” He scanned the list of digits. “We seem to have slowed down. We’ve only had one or two people come in the last day and a half.” He glances at Taytra. “Most are women and children. We can’t protect many more; we need more men, more fighters.”

“We have to try to protect them. We’ve talked about this. Their names are now on their list just as sure as Sam’s is. We can’t just leave them behind. We might as well be the ones who put the blade in their back,” she says vehemently.

Andrew nods. “She’s right. They don’t have any way to protect themselves.”

“And what are we going to do about that?” Ward asks. He scans the list again. “We have fifty children under the age of ten in the city, some sixty women and a dozen elders.” Andrew and Taytra are silent. “We can’t ensure they are any safer here with us.”

“So we teach them how to protect themselves,” Taytra says.

“Tay, there is no way I am putting a knife in the hand of a five-year-old. Do you honestly think their mothers would allow that?”

“Not a knife. As you said we don’t have the means to ensure their safety, but we can teach them how to make little things – traps and slingshots. Nothing is stopping them from throwing rocks at the Dark Ones. They wouldn’t have to be anywhere near them.” She tries to make it sound a bit more convincing than it does in her head.

“Okay that’s the kids, but the mothers?” Ward says skeptically.

“You’d be surprised.” Andrew laughs. “You tell a worried mother her child is in danger and she will come up with some pretty interesting ways to attack you. I’m sure some of these mothers would be more than willing to learn how to pick up a blade, even if it was just a dagger.”

“Besides, who said women can’t fight?” Taytra asks, letting the irony of his suggestion become very clear.

Ward sighs and paces the tent, staring deep into the flame of a candle like it can give him the answers he needs. “Tay, have you heard anything from your sister? Not a single word, or random thought?”

“Not a thing. It’s starting to worry me. Are you sure that the Dark Ones said that was a way that they can communicate?” Taytra asks, staring at the table. “She would have reached out to me by now if she was okay, right?” Taytra tries not to let the fear of what could have happened to her sister reach her voice.

Ward puts a hand on her shoulder. “She might not know she can talk to you that way. There is nothing in the reports that says she’s been hurt. Here.” He picks up one and starts reading. “Damian is dead. His body was found on the plateau. The taint of black magic had burned through his veins.”

“Wait, how did his body get there? I stabbed him. He died the night of the ceremony.” Andrew and Ward share a glance. “What? What don’t I know?”

“Tay, uh, they reanimated him. He held your sister and Philippe hostage for a few days,” Andrew says. “We just found out. You know we wouldn’t keep it from you.”

“What?? Was he like some walking corpse rotting away?” she squeaks. She pictures the man she stabbed with green decaying flesh hanging off his body. “Does that make me a killer still?” she asks in a small voice.

“You are not a murderer. You are a liberator, Taytra. He tried to kill your sister and a queen. You acted correctly; you had better reflexes than the Elvin High Guard. That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Andrew says.

“Honestly, I thought you were pretty magickal yourself,” Ward says with a laugh. “Do we need to have you tested too?” He starts stacking the papers in a pile. “I’ve gone through most of these, so I will go check on the guards. If you need anything, I’ll be back in a few.”

Taytra and Andrew nod. She picks up a random document — their money. Everyone has been doing what they can to help. They have an almost self-sustaining community here. Their biggest issue, like one would expect with any revolution, is acquiring food and weapons. They have just over two hundred, maybe closer to three hundred people hiding out in these woods. They all need to be fed and protected in some way. Luckily, most of the runaways from the Dark Ones were able to take their weapons with them as they ran, so they have an odd assortment of spears, quarterstaffs, swords, and a few axes at their disposal. But it won’t be nearly enough if the Dark Ones find them. What Taytra was hoping for was that some of the elves that came with them would be skilled. That they will be able to control some form of Magick or have weaponry skills they can teach to other elves and maybe even the humans.

“Tay, what do you think we’ll get out of this?” Andrew asks, putting down another report.

“What, this revolt?” He nods at her. “Hopefully a passage back to our old lives. I just want to make our home safe enough for my sister to come back. If that happens, I would pack this whole camp up by myself and leave.”

2

Shauna

I glance up from the elven text I’m reading when Lyra scrapes a chair across the floor. She’s getting ready to sit down and talk with Amicus. She has been trying to get him to meet with her for a few days now, so I won’t interrupt this meeting for anything. I peek over the edge of my book to see them sitting in the corner by the window. Lyra has a bit of parchment in her hand with questions the four of us had agreed upon. Questions about my health, Philippe’s and my former home of Cabineral, and many questions about the Dark Ones, their Magick, and – if Amicus can tell us – why it is different from our own.

My thoughts are conflicted on many things lately. But one thing I keep thinking is that if Damian is dead, truly dead, then maybe we can all start to be a little safer.

Damian had been Queen Moraine’s head of the high guard, but he was also an officer of the Dark Ones. He led the attack on my home of Cabineral Lake and was the reason I had to flee after being named the Aka Fritual. He took Philippe from me, twisted his mind, and used him as a weapon – one of the things Moraine had warned me would happen if I didn’t go into hiding. What she didn’t know was that I wouldn’t even get a chance to decide if her guidance was right.

Philippe looks up from his chess game like he can sense my thoughts. Instead of returning his gaze, I focus on the looping elven text. Paulo thinks I can trust Philippe again, but I’m still not sure. I had a lot of faith in him once. But once a button hole loses its shape, it’s hard to fit a peg back in.

“Do you feel it’s safe to leave now?” Lyra asks Amicus.

“I think so. The elves I sent out say that the camp has dispersed.” He lowers his voice a bit more. I lean in their direction ever so slightly so I can hear his next words. “My scouts say the Dark Ones have gone back to Cabineral Lake.”

Concern flashes over Lyra’s face. “Why? What would draw them back there?”

“I don’t know. Something must have happened at the city, but I don’t want to send the elves too close. I’m sorry but that’s all the information I can give you. Just know you can leave now. I would go soon while your exit east is still open.”

Lyra nods and pushes herself away from the table. “And you agree we should go towards Bulandon and Hollens – even if the Dark Ones are there?”

He steeples his hands. “I do. In the time before the wars, the only elves that had spirit Magick were royals. That still seems to hold true. However, Moraine has no heir, and it’s clear she’s not the Fritual. It’s possible the Fritual is a descendant of her sister, or the Goddess could have chosen another entirely. I believe that if the Goddess has chosen to bless someone with spirit Magick, they would be from Bulandon, the city that studied it.”

“Thank you Amicus.” Lyra bows and then walks over to my table. “How much of that did you hear?” She gets right to the point.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, closing my book.

“You’ve been on the same two pages for ten minutes now; you were listening in.” She crosses her arms. Lyra’s face falls into a knowing, mother-like smile. “Well?”

“Fine, yes, I was curious. We haven’t heard anything from home.” I take a sip of the juice I left neglected on the table. “I know, I miss home and my family too, and we know nothing about Philippe’s father. We don’t even know if he’s alive or if he knows what happened to his son. I don’t remember seeing him at the ceremony in the castle.”

“For now, that’s going to have to stay in the realm of the unknown. Maybe it’s something we can work on finding out but for now, we need to leave. We can’t afford to become pinned here again.”

“Checkmate,” Paulo exclaims, placing a piece down and removing another.

Philippe leans close and examines the board. “Fine, you win.” He pushes his chair back and comes to the table where Lyra and I sit. “What are you two talking about?” he asks, pulling up a chair and flipping it around so he straddles it, leaning forward on the back of the chair.

“Have you talked to Amicus?” Paulo asks, following him over.

“Did you not see me just talking to him over there?” Lyra replies. Her laugh is like tinkling icicles.

“No, my back was to you. So, what did Amicus say?”

“He said that we can leave. He and his scouts don’t know why yet but the Dark Ones have dispersed. They could be back though, so we should leave before that happens.”

The boys both look concerned. “So now that we’re safe to leave, we need to decide what we should do next.” Paulo takes the last chair.

“Well one thing is fairly obvious I think,” Philippe says, gesturing to his face. “I need to get to Fuegaste Peak, take the test, and do my ceremony.”

“I don’t know if that would be wise right now,” Paulo counters. “The Dark Ones know you didn’t make it there, so they’ll be waiting for you.”

“But he does need to get marked as a Fritual,” Lyra says. “Amicus agrees we need to head to Bulandon and Hollens too.”

“Right now you are a bit safer,” I say to Philippe. “We can’t hide. But you can. You do need to go soon, but maybe putting it off a bit longer would be a good idea.”

Lyra jumps up. “Oh, hang on.” She runs out of the room and returns with a jar. “I was given this before my city fell. It’s a special cream that covers your markings.”

I pick up the jar and open it up to examine the white creamy contents. “Makeup?”

“Sort of. There is a special herb in it so it can adapt to everyone’s skin and hide your marks. Do something small, just so your markings appear.”

I cast out a touch of Magick to the dirt beneath the building and wiggle a few droplets of water from the earth.

“May I?” she asks when the familiar blue glow appears across my skin. I nod, and she scoops out a tiny amount of the white cream and brushes it across my cheek. Her fingers are cool against my skin as she gently rubs in the product. “There. It will take a few minutes to take effect, but you get the idea.” She hands me a mirror. I’m still shocked by the blue designs that slide down my skin after I cast, but I can already see where they are fading away under Lyra’s Magick cream.

“Whoa,” I whisper.

Lyra grins from ear to ear. “I have a second jar, so I’ll stay on the lookout for more, especially since we need to cover up all four of us. I think there’s no reason to delay getting Philippe tested with this in our possession. We can easily hide the markings, and the cream lasts a few hours.” Everyone nods, content for the moment with this temporary solution. Which brings us to the next thing – we need to find the fifth of our circle. “We need to find the Spirit Fritual before the Dark Ones do,” she says.

“Have we even heard anything about whether or not he or she has revealed themselves?” Paulo asks.

“No, at least not that Amicus has heard,” Lyra says, “but this is something we need to do. Maybe we can spread the news that we’re looking, but in a subtle way, so we don’t get caught ourselves.”

“I agree,” I say. “We need to get to them before something like what happened to Philippe and me happens to them. We don’t want the Dark Ones to have control over them. Philippe was dangerous; the Spirit Fritual would be even worse.”

“So, what should we do? We can’t go to Fuegaste Peak and Bulandon at the same time. They are in opposite directions,” Paulo points out. “One is in the mountains, the other on the edge of the desert.”

“Well, which is closer?” Philippe asks. “Maybe we could do one then the other or split and meet up.”

“Fuegaste Peak is closer. I feel like it is going to take much longer to try to find any sign of the Spirit Fritual, let alone get to Bulandon.” Paulo pauses. “Splitting up might be our best bet because of that.” He glances around. “I’m not super keen on that, but I’m not opposed to it either. Thoughts?”

I can’t help the feeling of dread forming in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know how I feel about splitting up.” I glance at them each in turn. They are all I have now that my family’s been captured. “I would be so scared for each of you.”

“There could be other benefits to separating. Whenever we’ve traveled alone, the Dark Ones have found it harder to track us. We are safer alone, but we need the power we have together,” Lyra says.

“So what should we do?” Philippe asks.

I take another sip of my juice. I don’t want to be the one to choose. I know where I want to go. I want to head home and find my family, but that isn’t an option for any of us.

“I think Paulo might be right. Separating is the best plan. Two of us can head to Bulandon, and two of us can go to Fuegaste Peak. Then we all meet up in Hollens,” Lyra suggests. “What do you think?” she asks, turning to us.

“I just want to do whatever will be safest. If that means splitting up, I agree. Let’s do it,” Philippe says. “I understand you may not all trust me yet, but maybe if you go with me you can see that I’m okay now. I won’t let anything happen to you. I will do my best.”

Lyra nods. “Thank you, Philippe. I agree that would a good way to grow trust. I feel like I should head the duo going toward Bulandon because we have to pass through my home kingdom.”

Paulo glances at me. “I- uh, it doesn’t matter where I go. Shauna, do you have a preference?”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter to me.” I glance at Philippe. I can tell he wants me to go with him, to grow that trust back between the two of us, but he won’t object to Paulo either. “Maybe I should go with Philippe,” I say, and he perks up a bit. “I don’t know how elven culture looks at men and women traveling, but more attention would come to two women traveling without a man. But if we went with a man and woman, especially since we’ll be hiding our markings, we could be better off.”

“That’s very true. What I have found is that when I do have the cream over my skin, my skin doesn’t look as ‘elven’ if that makes sense.”

“That is good; people won’t pay attention to you,” I say. “So are we in agreement then? Lyra and Paulo are going to Bulandon, and Philippe and I are going to Fuegaste Peak.” I scan the group, and each one of them nods in turn. “So then what happens? As you said, it won’t take as long to get to Fuegaste Peak as Bulandon. Once we’re finished with Philippe’s ceremony, should we try to come to meet you in Hollens? How will we communicate with you? Paulo and I used our mental taps before being captured, but that was a fairly short distance.”

“I don’t know. That’s something we have to either ask Amicus before we leave or test somehow. In all honesty, we might want to avoid using it altogether. If the Dark Ones figure out how to tap the connections, it leaves us vulnerable. We may just have to go by word of mouth when we get to the city,” Lyra says.

A silence falls over our group as we realize we’ve planned everything out that we can as a group. Now we have to divide up and decide what we want to do from there. I look over at Philippe; this will be the longest we’ve been alone together since the ceremony. He gives me a little smile.

“Have you decided how you wish to go forth?” Amicus asks, striding into the room.

“We have. There’s a bit more planning to do, but we know where each of us needs to go from here,” Lyra says.

“Good. Feel free to take whatever supplies you need for your journey, horses included. You will be safer if you travel faster.”

I glance over at Philippe, who is trying to look eager at the idea of riding another elven horse, but I can tell he is also thinking of all the issues he has with riding. “Thank you, Amicus. A horse would be wonderful,” I say, hiding my grin behind my cup.

3

Shauna

“Food, check. Books, check. Few spare clothes, check, Double check for the extra socks,” I say, going over the end of the supplies on the list Philippe and I had made. Things are scattered around the kitchen in mounds. I turn to Philippe, who is lazily peeling an apple with the edge of his knife. “Anything I missed?” I begin putting the items into the two packs that Amicus gave us for our journey.

He takes a bite of his apple. “Do you have a whetstone? We might need to sharpen blades. And what about some oil for your bow?”

“Check, and check,” I say, picking up the items and placing them in his bag. “Oh, Paulo gave me some of this puff from a cattail, and flint and steel.” I show him the cotton-like substance before shoving it in the pocket with the flint and steel. “He said that it’s a good fire starter – could come in handy.”

Philippe rolls his eyes at me and makes one of his fingers catch on fire with a small pop. He grins and, rotating his apple above the flame, begins roasting it.

“Or have your companion be able to control fire. I guess that’s helpful too,” I concede. But I leave the fire starter supplies in the pack. “You never know though.”

He huffs and puts the fire out. “I still don’t get why we have to take horses. I would feel much more comfortable walking.”

I sigh and pull up a chair. “You know exactly why we need to ride. It would take us months to get there.” I search his eyes, but they are as stubborn as always. “I asked Amicus for his sweetest horses. I even went down with him earlier to meet the ones he picked out for us. If you would only come down and meet the horses, I’m sure-”

“I knew Rose since I was a child, that didn’t stop her from throwing me,” he says, sounding like a child still.

“Philippe, that was an accident. We both know that. How were you to know that Rose had thrown her shoe?” I ask, taking his hand.

He pulls his hand away slowly, leaving me with the feeling of air and the passage of his calloused hand over mine. I try to keep my face blank. I don’t want him to see how my heart jumped, feeling his skin on mine.

“I should have known. I was the one who put those shoes on her. But I was too busy getting all doe-eyed at you. And what did I get for it? A bruised butt and a lashing from my father’s tongue,” he grumbles. “I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to plan a way for us to get there quickly.” He looks down at his hands as the flames dance across his knuckles. “Besides, I did get to watch you chase after a horse that day. You’re cute when you get frustrated.” He lets the flames die out on his hand and tries to take back my hands, but I smack him away, a grin forming on my lips.

“Come on; you’ll feel better once you meet them.”

He takes another bite of his apple. “These apples might make them like me a bit more than my personality ever will.”

I sigh at this but don’t respond as we both head to the stables.

The horses that Amicus selected are sweet; one is a mare, the other a gelding. I like the gelding, Maple, a bit more. He’s a chestnut with a star on his face that looks almost like the leaf he was named after. He likes to nuzzle against my dress, searching for hidden sweets. We’ll have to watch him with the food bags; we won’t have any apples by the time we leave if he finds them. The other horse Amicus picked for us is named Poppy. She’s a sweet little dark bay, with enough of a forelock for both horses. She prances up when she sees us approaching and gives a little whinny. “See, she just wants to get to know you.”

Philippe jumps a bit when Poppy nickers at him but he continues forward with his hand out, palm up.

“Her name is Poppy,” I whisper from behind him. “Go on.” I nudge him forward.

“Uh- good girl Poppy, hello,” he says, letting Poppy nuzzle his hand. Her ears prick forward, and she begins nipping at his hand with her lips.

Philippe pulls back, and Poppy stretches her neck out to reach over the fence and get to him. “She smells the apple you ate, that’s all,” I say, laughing a bit when he jumps. “She wants some for herself.”

Philippe looks down at the apple in his other hand, then holds it out to Poppy. The horse eagerly licks up the apple and chomps away on the sweet core. When she’s finished, she comes back to sniff around his chest and pockets for more snacks. “I’m sorry,” Philippe says, scratching her cheek. “I don’t have anything else for you today.” The horse brings her head up and turns to look at him. “I’m sorry,” he says again, laughing at her pleading brown eyes.

“Amicus said they both have a bit of a sweet tooth; we’ll have to watch that. We won’t have any apples for us.” As I lean up against the wooden beam, the other horse comes up beside me. “This is Maple.” Philippe stretches his hand out to pet him. “Want to groom them? Then you can get to know Poppy before we leave.”

Philippe is about to answer when Poppy head-butts him, rubbing her head on his chest. “I think someone wants me to do just that,” he says with an uneasy laugh.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the grooming stuff is.”

4

Paulo

Paulo cinches up his bag and looks over the pile of things he and Lyra have gathered to take with them. They both woke up with the dawn this morning so they could have a full day of traveling. Lyra spent most of last night pouring over the maps, trying to decide the best way to get to Bulandon. The problem was, there wasn’t a best way to travel; there’s hard and harder. They chose the path that leads through the forest to the edge of the vast winter plains of Lyra’s people.

“You shouldn’t need too much of it at a time,” Lyra says to Shauna, holding out a jar of the cream. “But if you need any more, ask for Jocelin’s Apothecary. She has a couple of shops set up across the kingdoms run by her apprentices. I think it cost two gold stones. If she gives you any trouble, say you know me. We go back quite a way. All the apprentices know to help a Fritual though, so you shouldn’t have any issues. Word has to have gotten out by now that we are being found.”

“Thank you,” Shauna says, taking the proffered jar. Paulo already has an identical jar in his bag. It’s no bigger than an apple, made of glass with a wooden lid, with a bit of cork on the bottom to keep it airtight. Aside from the distinctive cobalt blue color, the jar gives no indications about what lies within it. Paulo pulls the bag over his chest and starts carrying things to where the horses are tied up outside the house.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Shauna asks, following him out onto the porch.

“To the horses,” he says, gesturing to the animals.

“Well obviously,” she replies, a smile playing across her lips, “but did you really think that you could sneak out without saying goodbye?” She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down her nose at him. He knows she’s making fun of him, but she looks ridiculous angling her head like that so she can attempt looking down at him from her perch on the porch.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he insists. “I have to come back in to get a few other bags, so I was going to come back.” He throws one of the bags up behind his saddle and ties it off.

“Sure you were going to come back in, but that doesn’t mean you were going to say goodbye.” She pokes him. “You might not think I’ve gotten to know you like that yet, Master Paulo, but I have you figured out.” She laughs. She can’t even take herself seriously.

“Fine, you caught me,” he admits, a mirror of her contagious smile splitting his face, “but only because I really don’t like saying goodbye to people.”

“Come on, you’re going to see us in maybe a week. We’re going to meet you in Hollens. It will be a two days’ ride for each of us. So if it’s really bad, we can get to you soon, maybe in an extra day.” She’s trying to be encouraging.

Paulo finishes tying off the bags and lets out a slow sigh. “Uh, Shauna, that isn’t quite what I am worried about. I know that we’ll all have a way to get to each other soon and that we all can take care of ourselves. It’s just – no, you know what? It doesn’t matter.” He turns to focus on measuring out his stirrups.

“No, it does.” She steps forward and places a hand on his arm. Her eyes are nothing but serious. “Something is bugging you, and I’m sorry I joked around about it. What’s wrong?”

He pats her hand. “Really, I’m okay.”

She gives him a look with those piercing gray eyes, and he relents. “Okay, okay, I don’t like leaving and saying goodbye and stuff, because well, the last person I said goodbye to was my brother. I told him I would see him again soon, and then he was kidnapped.” Shauna’s shoulders slump. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. I just didn’t want other people to feel how I was feeling.”

“No, it’s okay Paulo.” She looks up at him. “I appreciate when you share these things with me. Not because I enjoy hearing about your pain, but because I know a little bit more about you each time. We get a bit closer.” She watches him continue to adjust the straps on his saddle before making him stop. “You best stay safe.”

“I’ll be okay, you silly human girl.” He grins, but he doesn’t mean the words. This girl is so much more than just a silly girl. “You be careful yourself.” He glances in the window and sees Philippe looking out at them. “Please, watch yourself with him. I still don’t know where his loyalties lie.”

Shauna glances over at the window and smiles at Philippe. “I know. I think I can trust him. But I don’t know if that’s my heart or my brain talking to me. He’d better use this time to show me that he can be trusted.” She turns back to Paulo. “Besides, it will only be for a little over a week, and then we’ll be in Hollens waiting for you.”

Paulo nods as Lyra comes out of the house, carrying the rest of their supplies. “All set?” she asks, quickly tying her things up onto her saddle.

“I think so. Just let me do one final sweep of the house,” Paulo says, moving back into the house as Lyra and Shauna say their goodbyes. He quickly scans the lightly furnished rooms for anything that might have escaped his pack. He pauses to look at the table where many games were played and discussions had over the last week. When he finds himself back at the door empty handed, he pauses. The image of Philippe standing and watching them from the window flashes in his mind’s eye. Paulo turns back into the house to find Philippe still standing by the window.

“You don’t need to say it,” the boy says, not looking away from the window. His body is tense, like he’s been waiting for this discussion.

Paulo watches him for a second. Philippe shifts his weight from foot to foot, glancing at Paulo and waiting for his response. Paulo knows deep down that he can’t leave without talking to Philippe. Part of the reason he had gone outside was to try to avoid saying goodbye, but the other part was to give Philippe the benefit of the doubt. “We both knew that this conversation was coming. I don’t want to badger you about it but-”

“If you didn’t want to badger me, then you wouldn’t bring it up. The whole point is to try to trust me,” Philippe says in a low voice.

“This is me saying I trust you, Philippe. That I trust you will keep her safe,” Paulo says, waving to the window. “She’s like my little sister, the only family I have left now. Please don’t make me lose her too. That is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Philippe turns away from the window. “So you didn’t want to give me a lecture about not letting the Dark Ones take me over again and brainwash me? About not getting kidnapped again?”

“I take it Lyra did that already?” The only answer Paulo receives is a low huff. “No, you won’t get that from me. I know you regret what happened. Show me that you are the better man. Bring her back in one piece.” He puts a hand on Philippe’s shoulder. “Bring back the proof that I can call you my Fritual Brother.”

Philippe nods his thanks and puts out his hand to shake. “Thank you for having faith in me, Paulo. You are a good man - or should I say elf?”

Paulo shrugs and heads out to his horse, where he steps into the stirrup and swings his other leg over with a grace that, by the look of envy on the boy’s face, Philippe wished he could have. “See you in Hollens,” Paulo says over his shoulder. Then, with a squeeze of his horse’s side, he starts their journey. Lyra rides just behind as they hurry into the woods, following a trail that will lead them north, along the base of the mountain ranges.

* * *

They start at a brisk trot, putting as much distance as they can between them and the house, thus them and the Dark Ones. The faster they get away from the Dark Ones, the less they need to worry about the trail being traced back. To be safe and make sure they can’t be followed, they double back through the woods a few times and overlap their own trails. The trees hang low, heavy with leaves and fruit. Paulo reaches up as they pass under a tree and picks off a pear. “I didn’t know pears were in season this early in the year,” he comments.

“I didn’t think they were either; maybe it’s just the area or they are a special kind.” They pause at a fork in the road. “Do you remember which way we turn?” she asks, turning to dig around in her bag for the map.

Paulo shakes his head. “I thought that the Y in the road was later on, but I guess not. Amicus said to go to the left for that one. So if this is it, I guess that’s our course.” The two direct their horses and keep walking.

Paulo notices that his horse side steps and stops, growing a bit skittish. He bends and pats its neck. The horse probably isn’t used to being away from the farm like this. It certainly wasn’t very often that someone came to the house. He notices that Lyra’s horse is getting edgy too, flicking his tail back and forth even though there isn’t a fly in sight. “You feel it too?” he asks quietly. It isn’t so much that he feels something – it’s more what he doesn’t feel. The forest around them is dead. It isn’t silent – the sounds of birds chirping and bugs humming still fill the air, but it feels hollow in Paulo’s ears.

“Yes, I don’t like it,” Lyra replies, placing one hand lightly on the handle of her knife. They have to be feeling paranoid, right? They haven’t been away from the cottage for more than an hour. It doesn’t seem likely that something would ambush them that quickly. Paulo reaches out with his senses, feeling for any alarming reactions in the birds and critters on the earth. None of them react adversely to his touch, accepting him and letting him in. What is going on? he asks them. Why do we feel strange? His green markings flutter down his olive skin, pulsing a brighter green with each thought.

The woods answer in a chorus of voices that chime in their many languages in his mind. We feel the darkness even in the light. It lays heavy in this land. Beware Earth Brother.

Is the danger near? Should we fear to travel on in this direction? he probes them. Lyra turns when Paulo stops his horse in the middle of the road, his face skyward and eyes closed.

“Paulo, what are you doing?”

He puts up a hand, cutting off the rest of her words lest she drown out the forest.

They lurk in the shadows of night, but if you walk in the sun, you should be safe, Earth Brother. Travel quickly from this forest.

Thank you. He opens his eyes to see Lyra looking at him, a question waiting on her lips. “I was speaking with the forest,” he says simply. “They say that we should be safe to travel through here as long as we travel quickly.”

She nods in agreement while holding back her many questions. “Then what are we waiting on? Let’s get going.” She nudges her horse down the path, keeping his movements quick. Paulo follows, eyes ever watching the forest around them, ready for whatever might change.

About midday, with the sun high above, they come upon a clearing. The sun’s light filtering weakly through the leaves casts spots of light on their skin. Paulo and Lyra dismount, removing their horses’ bridles so they can graze freely.

“How much longer should we be in this forest?” Paulo asks, looking over Lyra’s shoulder at the map she’s examining again.

“I’m not sure. I could have sworn we should have left the forest by now.” She looks up, walking around the tree line and scanning the distance, but there is no break in the trees. “Can you ask your friends?”

“The forest?” he asks. “Yeah, I can ask them how to get out.” He closes his eyes again reaching out with soft tendrils of thought to the forest animals. Hello friend, he says, brushing the consciousness of a little squirrel in the tree above their heads. I am looking for the way from this forest. It is not my home. Do you know the way?

You look for no trees? the squirrel chitters in his ear. No trees? Why? Why would you want no trees? Danger? Danger lurks in the no trees. The squirrel skitters from tree to tree in its fear.

For me, these forests are dangerous. I need to find my friend. They are in the land of no trees, Paulo explains. He feels a smile come to his lips. Who would’ve thought that he would have to ask a squirrel for directions?

Lyra looks at him expectantly, and he shrugs in response waiting for the squirrel to answer.

Sun. Follow the sun. Go to where the sun goes dark.

“West,” Paulo says, opening his eyes. “We have to go west. ‘Go to where the sun goes dark.’”

“West? That doesn’t lead out of the forest; we need to go east. Your friends must be wrong,” she insists, looking over the map again.

“We are lost Lyra; we probably overshot our turning point. My squirrel said to go where the sun goes dark.”

She turns to him with a look of disdain. “A squirrel. We are trusting the word of a squirrel.”

There is a sudden burst of chittering in his ear that Paulo chooses to ignore. “He lives here in the forest; he knows how to get out a lot better than we do. I told you what he said. If we go west and get out, then we can go around the edge of the forest line. Then we can see what’s around us a lot easier and we won’t have to worry about something creeping up on us.”

She sighs. “Fine, we will listen to your squirrel and go west. But mind you, if we get more lost, I am blaming you.” She grabs her bridle and starts slipping the bit back into her horse’s mouth. “Well come on, I still want to get out of this forest by nightfall. I don’t want to lose too much time here.”

Paulo glances up at the trees and sees his squirrel, Come on buddy, let’s show her you’re a smart little guy. He picks up his bridle and slip it over his bay’s nose. The squirrel scampers down the tree and sits before him, waiting for the two of them to leave. Paulo dies laughing at Lyra’s shocked face when the squirrel scampers up her leg and sits on her shoulder like a parrot. “I told you he was smart.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that.” She shrugs her shoulders vigorously in an attempt to dislodge the squirrel. He leaps from Lyra’s shoulder to Paulo’s, where he sits waiting for his next question.

5

Nurzan