The Book of Shadow, page 13
part #1 of The Curse of the Unnamed Series
Viden Misk shuffled off toward the merchant and his men. Part of her wondered what they might talk about—was it her? Would they criticize the work done so far? She fought the urge to guess what they’d likely say and think. From her earliest days at the guild, her teachers and elders had endeavored to instill in her the realization that people did not harbor an appreciation for their kind. To many, handlers of the Unnamed caused as much fear as the creatures themselves. Llyris peered at the purple cylinder lying on her palm, her size diminished by the energy she’d expended.
“Why is anyone afraid of us?” she whispered.
“Don’t let them catch you talking to your jick.”
The words startled her, making her jump. She hadn’t noticed the young woman’s approach, yet she stood not three paces away. She squinted up at her. The green cloak she wore blended in with the greenery behind her. If she didn’t know of her presence, she wondered if she’d notice her at all.
“Can you not call her that?”
She shrugged and surveyed the rest of the gathering, observing them through slitted eyes before squatting in front of her. She bounced twice at the bottom of the crouch before settling.
“I’ll be going in the next group,” she said. “My name is Hinter. Hinter Panne.”
“Nice to meet you,” Llyris said. She wasn’t sure she meant it. “I’m—”
“Llyris Fildarae. I know who you are.” She nodded toward her open palm and the creature lying on it. “And you call that thing Flayre. Funny, labeling an Unnamed.”
“How would you enjoy not having a name?”
“I spent years without one.” She made it sound as though being nameless wasn’t unusual. “Sometimes I’d prefer not to have one.”
Llyris opened her mouth to speak but words failed her. Why wouldn’t somebody want a name? It struck her as a silly thing to say.
“I’ll be going in the next group,” Hinter repeated. She gestured over her shoulder with her chin. “With them.”
Two men dressed in modest armor with swords at their hips stood near the merchant, both of them glancing toward Llyris and her new companion every few seconds. One shifted from foot to foot in a nervous dance, the other appeared slightly more relaxed.
“Why are you on this expedition?” she asked, then felt rude for being so direct. Her cheeks flushed, and she opened her mouth to retract the question.
“I owe Carpera,” Hinter said, relieving her of the need for retraction. She stood, gazed across the gathering at the merchant. “He requested I accompany you as repayment of a debt.” She shook her head and chuckled. “Asked.”
Llyris raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this young woman. She wondered what she brought to a journey like this, but decided against asking.
“We should be ready to go soon,” she said instead. Flayre had expanded again, a spark of energy spilling from the creature across her palm.
“Take your time. I’m in no rush.” She turned to leave. With her back to Llyris, the green cloak made her practically invisible against the bushy backdrop. “I’ll know when you’re ready.”
She walked away, leaving the handler alone with Flayre. She curled her fingers around the tiny creature, held her hand against her chest, and resisted the urge to whisper calming words to her. No need to attract more disapproving looks, more disgusted whispers. She dared a glance about the gathering and found all eyes already lay upon her.
Llyris closed her eyelids to escape their scrutiny and eke out a little more rest.
Kove and Mikol were the merchant’s men making the trip with them. They gathered together with Hinter as Llyris whispered to Flayre, coaxing her power to the surface. The air shimmered, energy collected, and the pathway opened. The two fellows exchanged words, beginning a conversation to decide who should go first. Before they approached a decision, the young woman who had been wearing a green cloak—and now wore a white one which made her near invisible against the tunnel’s hazy color—stepped in ahead of them.
Hinter showed no hesitation as she walked with purpose down the path, leaving the merchant’s men practically falling over each other to hurry after her. Llyris might have laughed if she didn’t need to concentrate on holding their passageway stable. Were it shorter, she’d have relied on Flayre to do it on her own. Because it traversed a longer distance than she’d seen before, she decided it best to use her own attention to keep the Unnamed’s focus trained.
Llyris remained focused and undisturbed until the trio reached the halfway point and Caedric Carpera sidled up beside her.
“Will you follow them?” he asked. “Or do you need to rest again?”
She didn’t face him but imagined the sneer on his countenance. It made her jaw clench. Flayre vibrated against her palm. Llyris inhaled a deep breath to calm the tightness his question brought to her chest, then let it out between taut lips and answered without directing her attention toward him.
“I’ll go after them,” she said. “It should be fine.”
“Leave her be.”
She heard Viden Misk’s words but was unsure where he stood. She didn’t sense his presence. The merchant grumbled something unintelligible—about how long the process was taking, she assumed—then shuffled away, his boots scraping against the ground.
“Take your time, Llyris,” he said.
She nodded in response, choosing to keep her attention on the three figures making their way to the distant end of the passage. They’d gone far enough, they’d shrunk to almost nothing. Not much longer, then she’d get away from Carpera and Misk and their bickering over the best course of action.
One day, maybe she’d decide what was best for herself.
Five more minutes passed before she sensed their weight leave the magical tunnel. Flayre became lighter on her palm, the ache in her arm eased. She breathed a relieved sigh, allowing herself a minute to relax, but no more; the day’s work was yet unfinished.
No point in delaying.
She stepped toward the entrance to the gauzy white path but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. The suddenness of it surprised her, and her body jolted. Flayre teetered. It took the fiercest of concentration on Llyris’ part to keep the Unnamed from toppling and the pathway slamming closed.
“Rest if you need to,” Misk said, the familiar yet still surprising energy of his touch invigorating her.
Llyris looked toward him without moving her head. “I’ll go now.”
She pulled herself away, the fatigue she’d experienced before he laid his hand on her returning. It might not prove the best decision but she needed to get away from him, from them all. Her new companions on the other end may not treat her any better but her job would be done for the moment, giving her the opportunity to rest and allow Flayre to recuperate. Part of her worried the old man might follow her. Surely he knew not to. At his age, he’d never make it past halfway.
Llyris lifted her foot and stepped across the threshold onto the misty white path, whispering a prayer to herself to reach the other end.
Chapter 11
S weat beaded on Llyris’ brow, droplets running from her temple and along her cheek to her chin. Flayre trembled against her palm, the purple cylinder wobbling if she removed her focus for even a second. Each step she took felt as though someone tied another stone to her foot.
“I can do this,” she said between gritted teeth before glancing at the Unnamed balanced precariously on her hand. “We can do this.”
She saw the end ahead. What started out as a pinprick of light had expanded enough to see the rocky landscape beyond—chunks of rock interspersed with low scrub and stunted trees with crooked trunks. The entire panorama appeared gray, and she suspected rain at the other side of their journey. She spied none of the members of the expedition she’d sent before her.
Where did they go?
As she slogged forward, she remembered how traveling had weighed on her when she transported the horses, men, and wagon the last time. She recalled the dimming path, blackness surrounding her, pulling her down. Then, the distance had been shorter but the load greater. Her lungs filled with a shuddering breath.
“Almost,” she said as she released her air.
Though it appeared five paces or fewer remained until she reached the passage’s terminus, it took her over twenty. Such was the character of the path—distances rarely proved what one perceived them to be. She split her concentration between guiding Flayre and maintaining rhythmic breathing, forcing herself to ignore the knots in her thighs, the pain emanating from her shoulder all the way along her arm to her hand. When gray crept in at the edge of her vision, she squinted, narrowing her view to keep it at bay.
A minute later, she stumbled out of the tunnel at it slammed shut behind her with an eardrum-quaking pop. She tumbled, elbow scraping in the gritty dirt. Despite her attempt to close her fingers around the purple cylinder on her palm, Flayre toppled and spilled to the ground, rolling away as Llyris floundered to retain control.
She knew she should scramble after the tiny creature, find her and keep her safe, but the effort of escaping the tunnel had depleted her energy completely. A groan escaped her throat as she lay face down, the dust she inhaled tickling the inside of her nostrils, threatening to encourage a sneeze.
As she suspected, raindrops pattered the soil, bounced off her clothing, dampened her hair. The next time she breathed, her nose filled with petrichor. Under other circumstances, she might have found it refreshing. She lowered her head, rested her cheek against the rocky ground, waited for her heartbeat to slow and her limbs to unknot. The sound of boots crunching in gravel pulled her from the rest she needed, making her pull herself from the dirt and raise her eyes.
Hinter Panne stood over her, the once green then white cloak now a gray matching their surroundings. The young woman extended her arm. Llyris thought her offering help to get to her feet; she prepared to thank her for the offer but pass in favor of rest before realizing she held something between her fingers.
“I think you dropped this,” Hinter said.
Despite the discomfort and exhaustion filling her, Llyris drew her legs up beneath her and pushed herself to stand. With her back bent and her face pulled into a scowl by the pain gripping her as she unfolded, she realized how she must resemble the old man who’d sent them on this mission. She rocked side to side, finding her balance, before extending her arm, palm flat in front of her to receive what she’d dropped. Hinter set Flayre on her hand, then, to Llyris’ surprise, took her by the elbow.
“You best come with me,” she said. “I think you’re needed.”
As the young woman led her away, Llyris glanced over her shoulder at the spot where she’d stepped out of the passage. No trace of the tunnel lingered. Gray rocks and brown dirt, stunted trees with dusty leaves and curved trunks remained, nothing more. Her boot soles scraped against the ground as they made their way around a large boulder and past a tree larger and more crooked than the rest. On the other side of its twisted trunk, she encountered the wagon, and the other members of her party gathered together beside it.
“What’s going on?” she said, breathless.
“Something went wrong. One of Carpera’s lads.”
The cleric and his acolyte spied them first and stepped aside to create room. When they’d moved, Llyris glimpsed the lower half of the fellow lying on the ground. She scanned the others, picking out Rein and Jai, then the merchant’s man named Cirril, and the one called Kove, leaving two men unaccounted for.
Ilkari!
She wanted to pull away from the young woman’s grip and hurry to them but the sudden movement made her head spin. She needed to reach out and grab Hinter before she found herself laid out in the dirt.
“I got you,” she said, guiding Llyris forward.
When more of their party moved aside, she noticed Ilkari kneeling beside the prone man and breathed a sigh of relief. Mikol lay on the rocky ground, eyes closed, his cheeks white as the squire attended to him, dabbing his forehead with a cloth he’d wet from a skin.
“What happened?” she asked, lowering herself to her knees.
Rather than respond, he looked past her at Hinter, and Kove, standing a few strides from her. They peered at each other for a few seconds before the merchant’s hired man answered.
“We made it halfway before he started complaining. Cramps first, nausea next.” He brushed hair away from his eyes. “We thought it might pass, but it kept getting worse. We tried to turn around and take him back but couldn’t.”
Llyris nodded. “The path flows one direction,” she said. “To protect the users.”
“Didn’t protect him so much, did it?” Cirril quipped, accusation dripping from his tone.
She squinted up at the fighter, the sneer on his face, and considered defending herself and Flayre, but nothing came to mind. Sometimes people reacted adversely to traveling—rarely, and not usually more than a touch of nausea—but she knew of worse. She’d heard of some dying. Instead of engaging with the merchant’s man, she returned her attention to Mikol. Blue tinged his lips and his chest rose and fell with quick, short breaths.
“It’s not good,” Ilkari said. “I don’t know if he will survive.”
Llyris swallowed hard, wrapped her fingers around Flayre’s shrunken form, and leaned in to touch Mikol’s forehead with her other hand. Cold like the dead.
“You must return him to the estate,” Cirril said, stepping forward. “We’ve lost enough men already.”
She opened her mouth to respond, to tell him Flayre needed rest before traveling again. The words never left her tongue as Rein spoke over her.
“What do you mean ‘we’ve lost enough men already’?” he asked.
Cirril scoffed. “Are you so foolish as to think a man of Caedric Carpera’s stature stupid enough to waste his money on the likes of you if he hadn’t exhausted his other possibilities? We are the fourth expedition to go in search of this godforsaken book. None have returned so far.”
The knight looked aghast. His expression turned to anger. “Why weren’t we told this?”
“You wouldn’t have come, no matter the price. The great Rein Shriken interrupting his social life for real danger? Preposterous. You’re a champion by birth, not by accomplishment.”
“Why, you—”
Rein stepped forward, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword, but Ilkari leaped to his feet, inserting himself between the two men.
“Enough,” he said, voice stern. “If we do nothing, we will already have lost someone before we’ve begun.”
As if in response to the squire’s statement, Mikol shivered, teeth chattering. Llyris leaned forward and wiped rain from his cheeks, sensing the eyes of her companions on her as she did. They all seemed to hold their breath. The merchant’s man quaked again, and she opened her clenched hand, peered at Flayre lying against her palm.
The Unnamed’s dark purple had faded to mauve, her girth shrunken from its usual size by the width of a finger. Llyris concentrated on her, doing anything possible to communicate with the creature. Its hide glowed warm against her skin but lacked energy.
“I’ll take him,” she said, voice nothing more than a whisper. Though it might kill us both, she thought.
As she shuffled herself to stand, Ilkari caught her under the armpit, assisting her.
“Are you going to carry him?” the cleric, Emeryn, asked. He may have slurred his words, but the swirling in her head caused by the effort of standing made it difficult to be sure. “Doesn’t seem he’ll be walking anywhere for a while.”
“She’ll need a horse,” Hinter said.
“We require the horses to draw the wagon,” Jai protested. He’d stepped up to stand beside Rein, facing Cirril Feron.
“One can pull it,” Ilkari said. “It’ll mean more time getting wherever we’re going is all.”
They stood frozen in silence, the tension palpable as rain drizzled on them. Llyris looked from one to the other, waiting for them to decide her fate.
“We’ll get along without a horse,” Hinter finally said, breaking the quiet. “Can we without a traveler?”
“A good point.” Rein turned his attention away from Cirril. “How long do you need to recover?”
Llyris closed her fingers around Flayre, hiding the shrunken creature from view. She understood the disdain with which most of her companions considered her. How much worse if she gave the wrong answer?
“A few hours,” she said, shrugging.
“If this is true,” Cirril said, “we must send them back.”
“What if it’s not?” Emeryn’s voice sounded panicky. “What if she takes longer?”
Llyris expected one of the merchant’s men to pipe up with some reason they needn’t worry. Instead, Rein spoke next.
“We’ll be fine. You are all currently protected by the two greatest fighters in the land.” He paused, looked sideways at Cirril and Kove. “And there're these fellows, as well.”
Cirril Feron tensed but chose not to respond. He broke away from the others and made his way to the front of the wagon, where he began unhitching one horse. With the threat of violence between him and Rein diminished for the time being, Ilkari followed him, gave a hand with releasing the animal. Llyris’ chest tightened around her heart as Flayre throbbed against her clenched fingers. The muscles in her arms and legs grew heavy at the thought of traveling again so soon, as if someone filled her limbs with wet sand. Her shoulders sagged, and she peered at the ground.
Raindrops plopped in growing puddles, each droplet striking dirt or rock or tree and splashing the world around it. They struck her head and face. Water dripped from her hair and the end of her nose, the way sweat had in the tunnel. Given time to recover, she might have found the coolness of it refreshing. Instead, anxiety and worry—for Mikol’s life, as well as her own—filled her, transforming the rain to drips of blame and punishment tormenting her.
