The Golden Symbol (27 page)

Eachan ignored him and called to the last Lorkon. “Het?” He bit his lip, hoping he’d gotten the right name. He always had a hard time telling the Lorkon apart—they looked so very similar.

But the Lorkon stopped and whirled. “What?” he barked.

“What am I to do while you’re away?” He caught up with the Lorkon and peered down the hall, hoping to look curious. “Where are you heading?”

“To destroy that stupid man and his family.” Het glared at Eachan. “And I don’t care what you do—leave the city, if that is your wish. I’m sure Keitus no longer has need for you.”

Eachan nodded. “Very well.” He continued, speaking quickly before the Lorkon could storm off. They needed more distance between him and his father! “What happened to all the villagers? I don’t have anyone to work with anymore.”

Het sneered. “That never stopped you before, did it?” He glowered at Eachan. “And Keitus assumed you freed the maggots, just like you freed yourself.”

Eachan’s mouth popped open, pretense aside. “How—how did you know?”

“The room stank of betrayal, Eachan. We figured it out a long time ago.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything?”

Het folded his arms. “Do you really think you’re that important? You humans are replaceable.”

“Every human except Jacob.”

Het winced, then straightened to his full height, fists trembling at his sides. “Don’t ever—
ever
—mention his name to me again.”

Eachan nodded and stepped back, looking at the ground. “Sorry. I won’t.” Could it be that not all of the Lorkon wanted Jacob as badly as Keitus did? That was obviously the case. Surely King Dmitri and his followers could use this to their advantage. The Lorkon weren’t united. But how closely would they follow Keitus’s orders?

Not wanting to cause further problems, Eachan stepped to the side of the hallway and watched as Het stormed off. He held his breath, waiting for Sanso to do his part.

A stream of water shot past Eachan, hitting Het on the back of the neck right as he passed under the doorway. The Lorkon shivered and stared up at the doorframe, wiping his neck. He muttered something, then continued onward.

Eachan grinned. Sanso had timed it perfectly—Het probably thought he’d been the target of a bird relieving itself. Wonderful!

Sanso pocketed the squirt gun, stepping to Eachan’s side. “Now what?”

“We follow. Quietly.”

A wicked grin crossed Sanso’s face. “Fantastic.” He rubbed his hands together, then dashed down the hall, stepping behind the door and peering out. “It’s clear. Het is far behind Keitus—perhaps by a hundred yards—and they’re all heading toward Maivoryl City.”

Eachan looked out the door. “Are you sure there aren’t any Sindons?”

Sanso rolled his eyes. “Of course. I moved them into the city—the Lorkon will be forced to travel on foot. They won’t take the time to search for them.”

The two men followed the Lorkon through the forest. Eachan jumped at every noise, wondering when the Eetu fish would come. Too much time had passed. Had the water gone bad? Had they wasted all their hard work?

Eachan wasn’t surprised when Het turned and walked along the side of the great stone waterfall. For quite some time, Eachan had wondered how the Lorkon got out of Maivoryl City and gained access to the rest of Gevkan. Then he found a new, small trail that paralleled the wall. It stopped abruptly at the wall—seeming to disappear under it, or even possibly through, but without a passageway visible. It had taken Eachan an hour of observation to figure out that the stone where the new trail stopped was an illusion—there was a tunnel there. He’d never been able to get into it, though.

They’d almost reached that tunnel when something rustled in the trees behind him. He and Sanso met eyes, then jumped behind the large boulders that dotted the trail. Eachan had been wondering which direction the fish would come from—he’d figured it would come up out of the lake and through the tunnel, but perhaps the fish didn’t have access to it either. It must have used the tunnel he and the villagers had dug a long time ago.

The rustling sound increased, and Het stopped and turned. His father and the rest of the party were probably already on the other side of the wall, and Eachan breathed a sigh of relief—this would be just the Eetu and Het. The Eetu might have a chance against one Lorkon, but four? Impossible.

Het dismissed the sound and was turning back to the tunnel when suddenly, the Eetu fish burst from the forest and into the small clearing. Eachan and Sanso grinned at each other.

The Eetu didn’t waste any time. It lunged for Het, knocking him to the ground, and proceeded to try to chew off the Lorkon’s arm.

Eachan wasn’t surprised at Het’s first reaction. “Keitus!” Het called. “Help! Someone—” Then his voice grew shrill. “Father!”

When Het realized no one was coming, he growled in anger and threw the massive fish aside. Eachan’s mouth popped open—he’d known the Lorkon were strong, but strong enough to pick up and throw a twelve-foot fish?

Het tried to run into the tunnel, but the Eetu grabbed him and dragged him back out.

Eachan frowned. Why hadn’t that first attack completely dismembered the Lorkon? Then it dawned on him—the Lorkon weren’t human. Their bodies were not frail. He grinned. This was going to be a good fight.

Het scrambled to his feet, holding the Eetu fish back with gloved hands, staring at its snapping jaws just inches from his face. “How did you get here? Why are you chasing me?” Then he snarled, his glare turning even more dark. “
Eachan
.”

Eachan shrank behind the boulder, hiding his face. He’d hoped Het wouldn’t figure out his involvement. Of course the Lorkon would—he wasn’t stupid.

Sanso elbowed him. “Come on. He can’t see you. You’re going to miss the fight.”

Eachan nodded and peered over the boulder again.

The Eetu fish shrieked, twisting out of Het’s grasp. It slammed onto the ground, then whirled, whipping Het with its long tail.

The Lorkon flipped through the air, skidding to a stop near the wall. He ripped off his gloves. Before the Eetu had turned all the way, Het pounced on the fish, hugging it. He touched the scales with his hands.

Eachan’s eyes widened when the scales near Het’s touch turned from silver to red. The redness spread. Scales fell off. The Eetu screamed and Het laughed, not releasing the fish.

Eachan couldn’t believe it. Was nothing more powerful than a Lorkon?

But then, with a massive shudder, the Eetu’s body seemed to pull in strength again—probably from its magic source, whatever that was. The blue-green chased the red away, pushing it back to Het’s hands. He dropped the fish like it had burned him and backed away.

The Eetu took advantage of Het’s hesitation. It lunged for the Lorkon, grabbed him by his left arm, and swung him to the ground not far from where Eachan and Sanso were hiding. They ducked.

Had they been seen? Eachan didn’t know if it even mattered.

He heard a scream and risked a glance over the rock. The fish had clamped its mouth on Het’s head. Het struggled, kicking, thrashing. He finally got enough leverage and ripped the Eetu off himself and threw it aside.

While the Eetu was down, Het jumped on top of it, yanking his sleeves all the way up, exposing his muscular, red-chaffed skin. He bear-hugged the fish, screaming.

The fish shrieked as well, and its scales changed color. It seemed to pull into itself, then with a huge burst of energy, flipped around, knocking Het off.

Het slammed into the stone wall and fell to the ground, dazed. The Eetu coughed, choking up blood. It took longer for its scales to return to their normal color, but return they did.

The Lorkon was ready. He pulled out a long knife and ran at the fish, thrusting, stabbing at it. He seemed to realize his blood wouldn’t kill the fish, as it did all his other enemies.

The Eetu spun, whipping Het with its long tail and knocking the knife out of Het’s hands. Het scrambled, trying to get to the knife, but the Eetu pounced on him again. It started mauling Het’s arms.

Eachan watched in fascination as the Eetu’s jaws began turning red. The Lorkon was poisoning the fish without even attempting to. The redness flooded across the creature’s face and the fish dropped to the ground, unmoving.

Het stumbled, trying to get up. He didn’t seem able to use his left arm. Maybe he’d been injured after all? He crawled to his knife, cradling his arm to his chest.

As he was picking up the weapon, the fish shuddered, then scrambled to all fours. It jumped to Het, biting his leg. Het screamed and thrashed, stabbing at the Eetu with his knife.

The blade didn’t pierce the fish’s scales, though, and since the Eetu was biting through Het’s robes, it wasn’t getting poisoned, either.

Het dropped the knife and bent over, reaching for the Eetu. He grasped the creature by the gills and yanked on it hard, forcing it to release its hold of his leg. The fish struggled to get out of Het’s grasp, but Het held on tightly, squinting, squeezing off the Eetu’s air supply.

The fish fell limp.

Het looked down, surprised. “Finally.” He dropped the fish and crawled back to his knife. Het cleaned his knife—it hadn’t even gotten dirty—and put it away.

Eachan nearly called out in shock when the fish gasped and then opened its jaws, a huge smile crossing its ugly face. Eetu fish could smile?

The creature jumped up and scrambled across the distance toward Het. With a massive burst of energy, it stood on its front legs and whipped Het with its whole body, back legs included. Het was flung across the clearing to the tunnel. His head cracked against the stone, and he dropped to the ground.

The Eetu didn’t waste any time closing the distance between itself and its prey. In less than a second, it was on top of Het.

Eachan rubbed his hands together. The Lorkon was about to die!

But Het wasn’t done fighting. He squirmed out of his robes and out from under the fish, knife grasped in one hand. The Lorkon watched as the Eetu mangled his robes.

It took a moment for the fish to realize Het wasn’t there anymore, but when it did, it was too late.

Het slammed his knife into the fish’s throat. With a quick motion, he pulled back, using the hole as a starting point. Before the fish could recover, the Lorkon sliced off its head.

“Overcome
that
, you rotten fish.”

Het watched the fish for a moment. It didn’t move. Satisfied, he grabbed his robes and held them up—they were riddled with holes and tears. He growled, wiped his knife off with the fabric, then threw the robes over one shoulder and put his knife back into a sheath attached at his thigh. He limped back to the tunnel entrance, cradling his left arm.

Eachan grunted in disgust. “I can’t believe the Eetu didn’t win.”

“I’m not surprised,” Sanso said.

Eachan turned to Sanso, frowning. “Then why did you go along with this? Why did you let us waste our time?”

Sanso got to his feet, then helped Eachan up. “It wasn’t time wasted. The Lorkon is injured. The fish might not have been able to kill him, but it slowed him down.”

Sanso jumped over the rock and inspected the fish. “Interesting creatures, these Eetu.”

Eachan didn’t respond. He was annoyed that Sanso had predicted the end of the fight and he hadn’t.

Sanso looked back at Eachan, seeming to know he still wasn’t convinced. “Het is now separated from his father and the other Lorkon. He’s hurt. We’ve given your king as much of an advantage as possible. And when Het is no longer immortal, those injuries . . .”

Eachan smiled. “Will prove fatal.”

“Exactly.”

Sanso motioned for Eachan to step back. Then he lit the Eetu fish’s remains on fire, burning the creature to ashes. The Ember God waved good-bye to Eachan and quietly followed the Lorkon into the tunnel.

Eachan remembered that Sanso wouldn’t feel vindicated until he’d had his shot at killing a Lorkon. He hoped he’d get the chance. Eachan turned, heading back toward the city. Even though he was disappointed the fish hadn’t killed Het, he thought maybe the Ember God was right. Maybe those injuries really would help King Dmitri.

Eachan hoped so.

Chapter Eighteen: Trash-talking

Jacob stared out his bedroom window, marveling at the changes in the forest. They were subtle—so subtle that someone who was unfamiliar with his trees wouldn’t recognize them. Since he’d lived in this house as long as he could remember, he couldn’t get over how different things looked.

The trees seemed more confident, if that was possible. Their branches were thicker, stronger, pointing straighter. The bushes were also thicker, and there were more of them. The trees glowed a faint blue—compliments of the Makalos who now lived in them.

Speaking of the Makalos, they’d progressed leaps and bounds in their self-assurance and esteem since undergoing a few fighting lessons over the past three days. Jacob knew they hadn’t
really
improved, but their confidence came from sensing the change in themselves.

Physically, they hadn’t changed much. But magically? They were permanently altered, and it was really exciting. They could control things nearly as well as Akeno could before he trained with Onyev.

The link between Earth and Eklaron was much stronger now.

Jacob pressed his face against the window, trying to see where Akeno had gone. The Makalo glowed blue and usually wasn’t hard to find. But he’d disappeared into the forest, probably training some Makalo to do something.

He’d promised Jacob and the others that he and his people would be able to hold up their end of the fight. Everyone believed him.

Akeno also made sure the humans knew that while they were stronger, the Makalos would only be able to help for a couple hours.

Dad—and Jacob—hoped that would be enough.

The past few days had been insane. Following orders, everyone had run around, preparing for the Lorkon arrival. Jacob took in a deep breath, trying to calm his heart. He couldn’t believe they were almost here. By some stroke of luck—or bad planning on the part of the Lorkon—they weren’t using Sindons. If they had been, they would’ve arrived the day before.