All Things Impossible: Heartstealer, page 10
"Yes, I suppose."
He tried not to stare, and ran a sweaty palm through his hair. "I wonder where Der is. Hopefully alright."
She reached out and touched his arm. "But, you're worried about her."
His goofy smile retreated. "Aye, I am. However, I know that she can handle herself. Usually. Sometimes. If she's lucky." He ran a hand through his curls. "Well, I'd worry about you much more than her."
This time, Mora's face flushed. "I thought I could handle myself. On my own, in the world. I don't want to admit it, but I was wrong." Her shoulders slumped. "I guess I'm lucky you're here." Her hand brushed over his arm.
Kelin licked his lips. He wasn't sure what to say.
"After my parents died, I had to care for myself. I even tried to learn magic, as I told you before. I used to dream of soaring over mountains and unicorns as a little girl."
"So you said. That's amazing." He frowned. "But, I didn't think there were any magic schools anywhere in the kingdoms. The closest is in Tenmar and that's nowhere near here."
"Well... you're right. But, there are those willing to teach." She twisted her fingers together and dropped her eyes to the ground.
"Well, I guess that makes sense."
She nodded but kept her face away from him. "But, they're not all good teachers."
Kelin murmured in agreement. "I've met blacksmiths in Duelingar that knew what they were doing, but completely failed to explain it."
She pushed her thick, black hair behind her shoulders. "That's not what I meant."
"Oh." He forced another grin. "I don't know anything about magic. I was a blacksmith from a farming village. Being able to read is a blessing, so I've still got a fairly country uncomplicated mind." Immediately, he fought from slapping his own forehead. What an imbecilic thing to say!
"Oh." She glanced at him from the corner of her dark eyes. "I guess I can explain. If you want to hear?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"I heard once that magic and its use was very similar to using a weapon."
"What?"
"I know, I know, not what I expected to hear. But, you can either spend years studying it or bash your way through pretending to learn and then dying horrifically." She knotted her hands together. "You can use it to protect people - or to rob them or serve yourself."
He nodded. "I think I see what you're saying. So, like a weapon, it can scare people who don't know how to use it. I know because it scares me."
Mora shook her head. "I'd never hurt you. You saved me."
Once again, the sun glowed a little too warmly. "Uh. So, when can I see you use some?"
She shrugged. "Well, you can't just use it whenever you want."
"Why not?"
"You know, you can't use just magic without spiritual rewards and punishments, like."
"Alright, that's not like a weapon."
She held up her hands. "It's like what you do gets written on your soul, and they say that if you do good, good things will come back to you and if do evil, greater evils will happen to you."
He frowned and leaned away from her for the first time. "Uh, of course. Then why would people do evil at all?"
She shrugged. "Because they don't believe it. Look, it's what we're told. It might just be a story to scare us so-called students straight, or then again, it might be real. I guess I haven't lived long enough to find out."
"What?" He tried to hide his flinch. "Have you done something bad? Are you waiting to find out?"
"Oh! No, of course not. I just was saying. We should try to find something out about Der. We're here for her, after all." Then, she smiled. She shook her hair out in the sunlight and actually smiled. It was the first time he'd seen her since they'd met with a real smile, and not just the polite, shy gesture. Her raven hair glowed with a small halo in the light and the sun reflected from her dark eyes brightly.
He stared, and he knew he was staring, but he didn't care.
* * *
Meanwhile, inside the Mad Frog, Jakkobb sipped his horrible ale while the noise of many conversations danced around him. Most voices vibrated with a tremor of excitement. He took another sip and listened.
"Strangers come through here all the time, Elbriel!"
"I know, but how are we sure it wasn't someone in Hughling? I mean they were all folk we knew!"
"Maybe it was an avatar of Zine, they fight evils like these all the time," a third and much younger voice chirped.
"It wasn't," said the first voice. "I mean, they always announce themselves, and one of them wouldn't show up here, not for us!"
Elbriel's voice shivered. "I can't believe Allis was one of them. She was always sweet to me."
"And now she's dead," the first voice sneered.
"But, Sennha? Here!"
They all wound down into silence for a moment. Jakkobb heard at least two people slurping their ales.
"Who killed them?" the third voice asked.
"And who ran away from it?" Elbriel demanded. "Why did they run? Answer me that. Someone who runs away is also up to no good."
"They couldn't have gotten far," the first voice mused. "The bodies were still warm when Sheen found them."
The thud of a tankard slamming against the table echoed like a small thunderclap. "But, it's been two days! Whoever did this has disappeared too, and that reeks of evil."
The knight-captain smiled widely, but it lacked humor. "Tom may be able to hide himself, but no one, not even the god Mask can disguise Der." He turned to look at the speakers.
The old man shifted anxiously. Beside him was a red-headed freckled man in his middle teens and a small child with identical freckles and an explosion of the same red hair. The old man coughed into his hand. "I don't know. What happened in the stables doesn't mean anything."
"But you haven't told anyone, Grandfather?" The red-headed teen, Elbriel, glanced conspiratorially around the inn's tavern. "I mean this is important, you should at least tell the mayor."
He waved his hand. "Bah. 'Tis only a coincidence."
"But they found hoofprints!"
The old man shook his head resolutely. "I don't think it's anything."
"They were killed by strangers, and they were people we knew too!"
"We didn't know them," the grandfather spat darkly. "Besides, I don't think it's important."
"You sold a horse mere minutes before that fight!"
"Aha," the knight whispered to himself. "He'd need to get her a horse."
The man continued, "I didn't see nothing foul!"
Jakkobb stood and crossed the few steps to the table. "Bought the last horse you said?" The stablehand stared up and up at the mountain of red armor. The knight smiled through his visor. "Young lass, about this tall with dark brown hair and just seemed incredibly eager in general?"
"Uh..." the man trailed off. His grandsons shrunk in his chair.
"Was she with a man as well? Dirty blond hair, unusually bright green eyes?"
The stablehand shook his head dumbly. "Don't remember anyone like him."
"But you remember the girl?"
"Uh." His face wrinkled in thought. "I think so."
"But not the man?"
He shook his head. "No, no one like that."
Jakkobb frowned. "Alright. Your astute grandson mentioned this happened immediately before this slaughter everyone's talking about."
"Aye, sir."
"I thought so."
"Amazing coincidence, eh?" The old man lifted his mug in a small salute.
"Probably not." The knight pivoted a chair toward the table and sat down in one motion. "I've been hearing these far-fetched stories flying in this town about the fight."
The old man stared at the tiny portion of Jakkobb's face visible through his red visor. "Well, now, young man-"
Jakkobb coughed.
"Something the matter?"
He waved his hand. "No, no, carry on, please."
"I wouldn't even believe this if I hadn't seen the bodies and the temple for itself."
The captain raised his eyebrows. "Temple?"
The man dropped his shoulders. "Not in fact, 'cause the dark gods all move underground, but they had a hidden altar!"
"Alright, alright. Start from the beginning, please."
The old man nodded to his youngest grandson. "Go fetch us some more drinks, lad." While the child hopped out of his seat, the old man turned back to the knight. "What are you, sir?"
"Dragoon knight."
"Are you investigating this now? You arrived quickly."
"I am now. So, what happened, please."
"Fair enough, fair enough. Sheen - he's the miller's oldest - found the bodies, all decked out in their wicked robes."
"How many bodies? Where did he find them?"
The grandson returned wordlessly with the flagons. The grandfather took a long drink before answering. "Seven, and all folk we knew from this town too. None of us ever suspected. He found them just out of sight of town to the northwest. Looked like they were in an awful hurry too."
"How old were they?"
"What do you mean by that?"
Jakkobb sighed. "All I'm asking is if they were old or young."
"Most of them were, like Allis, under twenty summers, but Joris was forty." The old man took another swig. "He must've been the leader. You know, stranger, most of this town doesn't want to believe this happened. They honestly don't."
"I buy that. Who killed them?"
"No one knows. That's the mystery. Someone said that the hand of Carenth and Zine extended down from heaven."
"And left sword wounds?" the knight asked dryly. He glanced up to see Mora and Kelin entering the doorway. While they approached the table, he looked back to the old stablehand. "What you're saying is, the bodies were found dead and no one knows who did it." He pulled some coins out of his belt pouch and pushed them across the table. "Thank you for your time, sir. I'm going to search where it took place." He nodded to Mora and Kelin. "Let's go."
Kelin rubbed his hands. "I hope Der was able to leave some sign. If it was her."
Jakkobb exhaled. "Could you name someone else?"
"Good point."
They met with curious glares from the townsfolk as they slipped through the town's gates. Bent and broken glass marked the way to the skirmish. The whole town must have gone to see it, two or three times apiece by the look of it. The old man was right though, the fight happened barely out of town.
Kelin waved his hand around the forest. "Now, Mora, you'll notice that there are hundreds of footprints around here. Most of them are actually quite damaging to the original tracks, and we'll be hard pressed to find anything useful in this mess." His eyes scanned the ground quickly. "Ah. There." He pointed and puffed up his chest. "That's where the townsfolk piled the bodies up. You can tell by the way the grass is flattened and there are no actual proper footprints." He'd never even attempted to explain what these signs meant to someone. Thistle and Thalon always just knew.
"How do you know they were piled up there?" Mora demanded. "They could've died there."
He shook his head. "I don't think they all died in one spot. There were seven cultists and only Tom and Der. Two people cannot kill seven without moving around themselves."
"How do you know they weren't killed?"
"Those people they were talking about in town - the townsfolk knew them. We would have heard about a dead stranger, believe me."
"Well, alright."
Further up ahead, Jakkobb surveyed the ground. He looked meticulously at where the grass had been smashed. Splotches of faded brown stained little patches of grass all over the place. He walked along their general pattern.
So, it had been a running fight. They'd stopped for actual combat here, and then run ahead further. His eyes scoured the ground. There were also hoofprints, but the horse had been cantering, not galloping. Why had it only been cantering? His eyes drifted back to the blood trail.
And, the fight ended here. Ahead, there was no more blood on the grass. He knelt to inspect the ground. "Kelin, get over here! I found a proper trail."
The young man jogged over. Mora gathered up her robes and regally stepped around the dried blood as best as she could. Kelin ran a hand through his hair. "Where does it go?"
Jakkobb shrugged. "Why don't we find out? It doesn't look like the villagers found it either." They followed it to a small, swift stream. The rocks on the bank had been washed in blood. The knight's eyes cringed just a little bit as he surveyed the bank. "Someone licked their wounds here."
"Der?" Kelin knelt by the water. "There's been only one person here too. The tracks on the shore haven't faded. Thank the gods for mud."
Jakkobb frowned again. "Or someone else can walk very lightly. It looks like someone fell and sprawled out over here."
Mora glued her hands to her mouth. "What happened? Was someone trying to escape? I've never seen..."
"No, someone tended to a wound."
She lifted her robe's hem away from the ground. "But, there's blood, everywhere."
The knight nodded slowly. "Yes. There is. Wounds tend to bleed."
She looked down and retreated a couple of steps. "I didn't mean..."
"Doesn't matter," Jakkobb growled.
Kelin stepped into the water and picked up an object. He held it up to the sky. "Look at this!" A sapphire played with the sunlight.
Mora clapped. "Out of the stream! We should search for more."
Jakkobb shook his head. "That's the cleanest cut gem I've ever seen come out of water. And in an alluvial stream no less."
She twisted her fingers together. "That's not what I meant, sir!"
"I know, I know."
Kelin patted Mora's arm. "It's alright. Here, you can have this." He handed the gem over.
"Oh, you don't have to give it to me."
He closed her fingers around the jewel. "Please."
Jakkobb frowned. "I know Der doesn't carry gems like that. Tom must've been here too."
Kelin shook his head. "But we didn't see tracks, sir. Someone else could've dropped it upstream."
"I don't think so. It was right here and on top of all the other rocks and dirt."
Kelin nodded. "That does make a sort of suspicious sense."
"Right. Tom didn't leave tracks at the tree stump either. Well, we know we're two days behind them. However, they're in the forest now."
"Is that good or bad, sir?" Kelin asked.
The captain shrugged. "Tom's the wild card, could be either. Does he know woodcraft, and is he a magic user?"
"We never did find tracks the first night, or right here."
"I know. That's why I'm thinking this is bad for us." He held up a finger. "He also has a horse now, probably for her. We'll have to ride hard."
Kelin's eyes glanced back to the footprints. He looked around the stream. "Here's something else."
"Anything of Der's?" Mora asked.
He moved over to investigate. He splayed out a hand over the new tracks. "They're bear prints, very large bear prints."
* * *
Der flinched awake as the wolves howled at the low hanging moon. She shook herself and pretended she had been awake the whole time. She had been fighting it, but apparently her exhausted body played its hand well and she had drifted off. Sleep also dulled the pain, or at least, she didn't have to feel it when she was out.
"Go back to sleep," Tom said quietly. He led the drowsy horse around the forest trees. The mare's head was drooping, but she still occasionally sidestepped him.
She idly watched the large bear tracks as they crossed paths. Bears weren't unknown in Thealith, but she'd never seen so many fresh ones in one place before. She stretched in the saddle. "We should camp."
"Soon enough, but I want more distance, and I'm wide awake."
For once, she didn't argue, and instead watched the moonlight reflect off his hair. His face was pale; and that was because he always wore his hood. He said that he had to cover his face because of an eye illness, but she'd noticed that he didn't have troubles with seeing anything.
She wet her lips. "The horse is still shying away from you. She doesn't like you very much."
"She'll have to get over it."
"I don't like you very much."
"Good."
She leaned against the saddle and stretched her back. Pain spurted throughout her body, and she wished she could see how awesome of a bruise had blossomed on her back.
Tom glanced over his shoulder. He almost smiled to himself. "So, why were those cultists trying to kill you? I know for a fact that you're not one of them."
"I was looking for a place to hide from you. I saw this hidden door, so I decided to use it. They were too."
He chuckled to himself. "What makes you think I wouldn't have found it?"
"I don't know." She shrugged. "It was better than any of the other choices."
"This means you ran into them by mistake. I was worried the cult had a marker on you."
"And hunting me? By rights, they should, but I don't think they know who I am."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Early winter last year, Sennha's influence in this kingdom was nearly broken," she recounted.
"I know about that. They went mad in Second Acron and the king set about routing them out of his domain."
"Oh. Well, do you know why they went mad?"
"Yes, actually. The cult leader in Thealith, who was in Duelingar for some unknown reason, got killed by some children and the rest of them didn't know what to do so they panicked. Dark snowflakes, the lot of them."
"How do you know that?" she queried, and then frowned. "Dark snowflakes?"
"Never you mind how I know. I call them that because they're about as harmful as a snowflake." He continued, "So, what did you do to cause the cult to reveal themselves?"
"My friend Ed- my friend and I killed him." The memory washed over her; they'd been ambushed in the middle of a public street, and they'd won through the cult's attack on Edillon. She tried very hard not to think about the priest's dying words. But, they played in her mind as if he'd spoken them yesterday. The sword of Sennha will cut you down. She fought against a shiver. It didn't mean anything.
Tom slowed his pace. "Oh. They don't know it was you though."
