Forest of Demons (27 page)

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Authors: Debbie Cassidy

BOOK: Forest of Demons
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“You eaten?” Darius asked.

Aryan nodded.

Darius looked about. “Interesting place, these buildings. The whole set up makes me think that there must have been a civilization here at some point. Probably wiped out by the savages.”

“Or maybe the civilians became savages?” Bojan suggested.

Darius stick out his bottom lip, considering. “Maybe. We’ll never know.”

Aryan pressed his lips together, fixing his gaze on the flames.

“So we’ve had our assignments. How do you feel about it?” He addressed his question to Aryan.

Aryan went cold. Frack! He certainly hadn’t heard anything said, so it must have been communicated silently. He tipped the last dregs of his brew down his throat, buying time.

Darius waited, they all waited, watching him with curiously knowing eyes.

Aryan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It doesn’t matter what I feel, this is about maximizing the attack. I will happily go where I am put.”

Darius’s face broke into a toothy grin. He slapped Fen’s back, almost toppling him. “That’s what I like to hear!”

The warriors laughed.

“I think he thought you’d find it awkward, taking orders from him,” Bojan said.

Darius had been put in charge of a whole troop? Aryan quickly masked his surprise with a chuckle. “It would be an honor to be in your charge, Chief.” He winked.

The shadows behind Darius shifted. Silence descended over the troops.

“Darius.” It was the commander, her voice low and smooth.

Darius turned to her.

She inclined her head and walked away.

“Duty calls.” Darius drained his mug and slapped it on the ground. “May we meet again.”

He followed the commander into her blanket tent.

Aryan waited till he was out of sight, then stood.

The warriors looked up at him inquiringly.

“I’m going to stretch my legs. Save me some brew.” He didn’t wait for a response, striding away quickly. He needed space to think unguardedly, to not have to consciously adjust his features into acceptable expressions.

Leaving the boisterousness of the camp behind, he ventured further into the building, into the shadows where, surrounded by thick stone walls, he finally allowed his muscles to unknot.

He was trapped in a nightmare. Everything he had known, everything he had believed in and held dear, everything that made him who he was, had been a lie. A terrible lie, and now his hands were stained with innocent blood. He couldn’t do this any longer. He couldn’t simply continue to pretend. There had to be another way, a way out or a way to stop it. Ama’s face flashed through his mind, and he faltered in his new convictions. His city was dying. That he knew to be a fact, so despite his moral issues, didn’t the ends justify the means?

He waited for the inner voice to interject, to feed him a solution, but instead of the dulcet dark tones that he had been accustomed to, he heard tinny wails.

He wandered down a corridor and came to a flight of steps leading down. Hesitating at the top, he waited.

There it was again. He strained but couldn’t make out what it said.

He slowly descended the steps, finding nothing but a smooth stone wall at the bottom.

Why lead stairs to a dead end? It made no sense, unless . . . he ran his hands over the stone and found what his eyes could not see in the darkness; grooves and patterns and deliberately carved recesses.

It was a door. A secret door, which meant there would be some special trick to open it. His heart sank. He had never been good at puzzles.

The wail came again. And this time he recognized it as the cry of a child.

There was a child trapped in there!

Another voice joined the first.

Two children!

He had to help. He had to get them out.

Screwing his face up in concentration he began to test the strange lock.

Middle finger, index and thumb then twist.

How did it know this?

Predictable.

He licked his lips, positioning his fingers accordingly. He twisted, and something scraped.

Push.

He braced his shoulder against the stone and pushed, expecting resistance, but it moved smoothly. He stumbled inside, catching himself before he could fall.

His eyes adjusted to the gloom, lit only by a single, almost burned-out lamp. They swept the space, seeing glittering gems, chalices, and plates, and finally skimming over five tiny frightened faces.

They stared at him with eyes as large as the tea plates Ama used to put out for special meals, and then the smallest of the group opened her mouth and screamed.

5
PRIYA

She awoke with a start, her arms thrashing.

“Shhh, it’s all right, you’re safe.”

Ravi’s soothing tone melted over her limbs, and they dropped to her sides on the pallet.

“Better.” Ravi’s large calloused hands caressed her forehead, and she closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.

The events of the night before flickered through her mind. She flinched, her hands grabbing at her chest. It had cut her, the talons, so sharp, and the pain!

“No, it’s all right. Your coat protected you, although it’s nothing but shreds now.”

She shook her head. She could have sworn she had felt the bite of those talons on her flesh, accompanied by white-hot needles of pain. But there was no pain now.

“You were lucky, Priya. That thing . . . it could have killed you.”

“What was that thing?”

Ravi was silent for so long that if it hadn’t been for the pressure of his hand on her head, she would have suspected he’d left the room. She opened her eyes and shifted her head under his palm to look at him.

His throat worked for a moment, and then he shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard you scream, and I came running. I didn’t really see it very well. Before I could stop and examine it, you’d run off. I had little choice but to chase you. I suppose now we’ll never know what it was.”

He was lying, she could feel it. “What were you doing out there?”

“I heard a strange noise and went to investigate.” He removed his hand from her forehead. “If you’re feeling better, we should leave. We’ve a lot of ground to cover.”

He was hiding something! She propped herself up on her elbows, glaring at him. “What aren’t you telling me, Ravi? I know you’re brave, but you’re not stupid, and if you heard a strange noise outside in the middle of the night, in the middle of these beast-infested woods, the last thing you’d do is leave to go ‘investigate.’”

Ravi’s face flushed, the darkness in his eyes expanding. He leaned in close, so his breath fanned across her cheeks. “Don’t ever presume to know me, Priya. Don’t try and second-guess my actions or motivations. Trust me, you’ll be wrong every time.”

There was no anger in his words, just simple resignation. It confused her, and made her question everything about their relationship thus far.

He pushed to his feet, moving to the hearth to put out the fire. “Get up. You’ll find clothes in the chest under the pallet. I’ll be outside when you’re done.”

She watched him leave, a delicate frown etched between her brows.

Swinging her legs off the pallet, she slipped to the floor, kneeling to retrieve the chest. After untying the straps that held it closed, she pushed up the lid and stared at the furry items within. Rummaging around she found a tunic that might fit her and a pair of britches that were clearly too large but could be rolled up and tucked in to fit her slender frame. She grabbed the smallest coat, quickly undressed, and put them on.

Her hand went to her chest again. Smooth and unmarred. She was lucky that the thickness of her coat had protected her so thoroughly. It was strange what the mind conjured under duress.

 

“We should reach the capital by red sun. We’ve made good time,” Ravi said.

Daylight, the sound of birdsong, and the scuffle of tiny animals softened the forest’s ominous edge so it could almost be called pleasant.

“Are you all right? Do you wish to stop for a while?” Ravi asked for the tenth time.

“No, let’s keep moving.” Priya didn’t try to curb the curt tone that crept into her voice.

She was sick of his evasions, his secrets. She could have been killed chasing after him last night, and the only excuse he had was that he had heard a strange noise and left to investigate.

“Is the coat warm enough?” Ravi asked tentatively.

“Yes, thank you.”

In fact it was the warmest thing she’d ever worn. It was much too large, the cuffs dangling past her knuckles, but it kept out the cold.

There was too much Ravi wasn’t telling her. She realized she must have sensed his secrets from the start, and these secrets had contributed to her conflicting emotions toward him.

Ravi brushed back some spindly branches, snapping a few in the process, and led them out of the forest and onto the edge of a riverbank. The river rushed under a thick layer of ice.

Priya looked at it skeptically. “Is it safe to walk across?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” He stepped onto the ice.

Priya held her breath.

The ice held.

“Come.” Ravi held out his hand. She took it, stepping gingerly onto the ice beside him. They walked slowly across the river, careful not to step too hard.

It was only when her feet touched real ground that she realized that her lungs were burning from holding her breath.

The forest on this side was filled with light. The trees had space to grow, and she could see birds chirping high up in their branches. The snow blanketed everything like a thousand diamonds. She allowed herself a moment to appreciate winter’s beauty. The stark, dark branches against a clear blue sky were like spindly fingers reaching up to caress the azure horizon.

Ravi’s fingers slipped through hers, and she realized she was no longer annoyed with him. How could she begrudge him his secrets when she had held her own close to her heart for so long? She would rather he keep secrets than lie to her. Everyone had secrets, and if she were lucky, maybe one day he would share his with her and she would finally understand what brought sorrow to his eyes when he thought no one saw.

“The capital lies beyond these trees,” Ravi said. “Are you ready?”

She didn’t know if anyone of note would listen or believe their story. But she knew she had to try, because if she didn’t, she was certain that all her future held was death.

Was she ready?

“I’ll have to be.”

6
ARYAN

The child screamed again. Aryan leaped forward to cover his mouth with a large hand.

The others, two girls and a boy battered at his thighs with ineffectual fists.

“Hush, hush, I won’t harm you. Please.” He spoke urgently trying to soften his tone.

The little boy in his arms wriggled trying to wrench free. Aryan crouched before him, wanting to make eye contact, wanting him to see there was no threat, hoping that he would read the good intentions in his eyes.

He suffered several blows to the back of his head and shoulders for his effort, but after a moment the boy went still. The other children, confused by his compliance paused in their assault.

“I’m going to take my hand away. Do not scream.” The boy’s brows met in a frown. Aryan opened his mouth in a parody of a scream. “No scream, okay?”

The frown cleared and he nodded.

Aryan slowly removed his hand, prepared to slap it back in place if need be.

Once released the boy stepped back into the older girl’s embrace. They stared at him with frightened eyes, studying him as if he were some odd creature. To them he probably looked monstrous. Even if they had not seen the slaughter in the village earlier they would have looked upon him as a beast, a giant.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but my people will, so you must be quiet.” He knew they couldn’t understand him, but he spoke to them regardless, hoping that something in his tone or body language would get through.

He glanced about, looking for inspiration. There was no way he could get them out of the village with the troops milling about, but if he could find a way to wedge the door open slightly they may be able to escape once the troops moved on at dawn. The only problem would be explaining the plan to them.

He moved toward the table and shelves filled with shiny items. Something strong yet slim. He turned over and discarded golden goblets and silver plates, heavy gold ornamental chains and shiny thick bracelets. He was beginning to believe he would find nothing suitable when he came across a long, thin staff studded with tiny gems. He measured its weight with his hands, testing its solidity. It would not bend or snap easily. Yes, it would do.

He turned to the children, huddled together in a corner, intending to attempt to explain his plan by demonstration when the thud of boots on stone threw him into panic.

“Quick, someone is coming,” he whispered.

He waved them further into the shadows, pushing them behind a large armoire.

“Aryan?” Fen stepped into the room. Aryan spun to face him, quickly tucking the staff into the back of his britches.

“Fen. Can you believe this?” He waved his arm in an arc, plastering an expression of wonder on his face. “It must have belonged to the civilization that used to inhabit this isle. The savages must have taken it all and hoarded it here.”

Fen moved further into the vault, his eyes scanning the shadows and falling on the flickering lamp. His brow crinkled.

Aryan sighed. “I know, the oil has almost burned out. I found it outside the vault. We should probably tell the commander what we’ve found.”

The plan was ruined. Once the commander knew about the vault she would undoubtedly send men to empty it. He needed to buy enough time to get the children out now.

Fen picked up one of the heavy bracelets and took it to the lamp. He held it close to the light turning it over, his eyes glowing with astonishment. “Is it real?”

“I think so.” They did not have much gold in Borea, only the items the Discovery ships sometimes brought back. It was not a common precious metal on his home Isle.

Fen clutched it tighter, his eyes taking on a glazed look.

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