Gateway to Fourline (The Fourline Trilogy Book 1) (23 page)

Sister Camden pursed her thin lips and glared at Nat. “They must be a pair. By the time we had him unbound and on his feet, he was shouting and yelling, ‘Where’s the Sister, where’s the Sister?’” She quietly mimicked Soris’ voice and waved her arms. Despite her haggard appearance, she sounded forceful. “He was thoroughly uncooperative and a risk to us all. So I knocked him out, and then Pauler helped me bring him here. We should have left him to the guards. Pauler was in no condition to lug someone through the forest.”

Sister Pauler pushed the bushes on the riverbank quietly to the side and joined the four of them at the base of the tree. She held her arm tightly against her ribcage. “Good to see you, Rory. It took us longer than expected to get here, and I’m sorry to say we weren’t able to get any information from him before Camden knocked him out.” She handed a water flask to Camden.

“Any sign of approach?” Sister Rory asked. Nat listened carefully to the exchange while she examined Soris.

“No,” Pauler replied. “But the rain is letting up. They’ll be on us again soon.”

Soris rolled over and groaned. He pushed against the muck and found himself staring into Nat’s face. “What happened?” he asked.

“We were rescued, I think.” Nat gave Sister Camden a nasty look and addressed Sister Rory. “We need to be on our way. Thank you for your . . . help.” She tugged at Soris’ arm, dragging him to his feet.

He wobbled and slapped a hand against the trunk to gain balance. “This has not been my day,” he muttered.

“You’re forgetting something, Sister.” Rory took a step to the side, so the Sisters created a line in front of them. “You never told me what business you had with Mudug. No Sister is foolish enough to travel through Rustbrook, let alone work a deal with Mudug with that on her arm.” She pointed to Nat’s markings. Pauler and Camden leaned in for a closer look, and Nat instinctively pressed her arm to her side.

“He never found out I was a Sister. We needed something from his Chemist and brought riven in exchange.”

“What did you need from the Chemist? Think before you say medicine or healing services.” She pointed to her leg. “You aren’t lacking access to either.”

Nat took a deep breath and looked at Soris. He nodded slightly. A bug landed on her lip, and she brushed it away, giving herself a moment to figure out what to say. “The Chemist had created a way to track my friends. I adjusted it slightly. We used Soris as a ruse to get to the Chemist by claiming he’d been bitten by a snake.”

Rory and Pauler exchanged glances, and Pauler silently disappeared into the brush. “You said a way to track your friends. Do you know if he was tracking others?” Rory asked.

“If he was, it will be difficult or impossible for him to do it now,” Nat replied. “It should take him a while to figure out what happened.” She thought of the crazed woman smashing vials, and the glass raining down like a sleet storm. “There was a disruption that allowed us to get away, and I believe we ruined his ability to track.”

Camden adjusted her sword and disappeared in Pauler’s direction. Rory, her face still half-covered with dirt, glared at Nat and Soris. The sound of the river punctuated the silence. Nat glanced up toward the trees, half expecting to see Pauler or Camden with bows trained on them.

Finally, Rory exhaled and pointed upriver. “Mudug’s using the Nala to control the trade routes from the coast. He has guards scattered from Rim Town to Rustbrook who serve as protection for the merchants, but he’s got some kind of agreement with the Nala to let them move through the corridor undisturbed. Without a Warrior Sister in tow, the band could be taken out by the Nala in minutes, Rustbrook Guards or not. I’d avoid that area for now.”

She faced Soris. “You look a little like your brother Gordon, Soris.” His eyes widened. “I am amazed you made it through Rustbrook with no one noticing the resemblance. I was an apprentice when Emilia attended our Warrior House, and I met Gordon on more than one occasion. Their loss was . . . felt by us all.” Rory placed a gentle hand on Soris’ shoulder, then turned to Nat.

“When you meet up with your Sisters, let them know there are a band of us in the North. I’ve heard of a House deep in the forest between the Meldon Plain and the coast, but other than that, Mudug has been true to his word and destroyed any of us that he could find. The Nala have had free rein on those from any House. I know of only a handful still in this area. Travel safely. Travel free.”

She was near the brush when Soris called out, “Sister, there is refuge south of the copper mines in the canyons.”

“Thank you.” Rory paused and looked at Nat. “You have an obligation that comes with those markings, even in these times. Don’t forget it.” She disappeared through the brush.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The fire crackled and popped. Soris stirred the black pot and ladled stew into a wooden bowl. He nodded at a woman straddling a log next to the fire. Her eyes flickered in his direction as she scraped with a knife one of the rabbit hides Soris had exchanged for the meal and the earlier ride on her wagon.

He skirted the collection of fires and rough-looking merchants speaking in low tones. The free travelers’ wagons formed a semicircle around the camp. A few travelers were already banking the fires, choking the flames with dirt. The grass brushed Soris’ calves as he passed the long poles penning the shaggy horses. He ran up a small hill toward Nat. “It’ll be cool enough by now,” he said and handed her the wooden bowl. “You’d have thought she’d give me two bowls after all the rabbits I dropped at her feet.” She scooted over, making room for him on a bedroll tucked against a slab of pale rock. He pressed close to Nat and wrapped the bedroll around his side.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she said and brought the bowl to her lips. The stew tasted gamey. She bit into a sweet root and passed the bowl to Soris.

“That’s an odd expression.” He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Odd, but true. They didn’t offer the most comfortable ride, did they?” He smiled at her and she laughed.

“If I’m ever that close to geese again, it’ll be too soon,” she said. They’d come across the band of free travelers a day after parting with the Sisters. A member of the caravan had reluctantly agreed to let them ride in her wagon. They’d spent the day surrounded by irate caged geese. Nat was still picking feathers out of her clothes.

“We were fortunate they let us ride at all. I’ve been forced to walk behind wagons a time or two when I’ve latched onto a band of free travelers.”

“They don’t strike me as the most trusting people.” She took another sip and inched closer to Soris, enjoying the warmth of his body. “I think the wool merchant riding with his son saw my dagger. I caught him glancing at me and heard him muttering about Sisters. I kept waiting for him to grab my forearm.” She thought back to what Rory had said to her—that she had an obligation that came with her markings.
Except for seeing Soris to the safety of Benedict’s house, I’m done with obligations,
she thought. Her brow furrowed when she realized how soon she’d be leaving him.

“He has more to hide than you do.” Soris interrupted her thoughts and she looked at him. His chin was now covered with reddish-blond stubble. She suppressed an urge to run her hand over his new beard. “Did you get a good look at his son?” he asked. Nat shook her head. “Pointed hand. His face looked regular enough, but I’m sure there’s blue skin under that high-necked tunic of his.”

“A duozi?”

Soris nodded. “Probably more than one in this group. The travelers have to tolerate a duozi’s presence, and there aren’t many traveling groups that would. Most would just send the duozi away, or worse. I think this band wants to avoid Mudug’s guards for reasons other than evading the transport tax. From the looks of them, it wouldn’t surprise me if some of these merchants move year round.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The only safe place for a duozi is on the run.”

They’d given Nat and Soris a ride, but they weren’t willing to let them stay within the protective ring of wagons after nightfall. If some of the travelers were duozi, it made sense to her now. She thought of Annin and wondered what her life had been like when she lived in Fourline. If the images of imprisonment in Benedict’s house were any indication, she was better off in Nat’s world.

The stars were faint glimmers in the fading twilight. Nat and Soris passed the bowl back and forth and watched the day fade. Fire after fire disappeared in the field before them. Six burly travelers took their positions around the perimeters of the camp.

Nat watched them pace. “Are they that worried about Mudug’s men finding them?” She gestured to the guards. “How much trouble can they get into for refusing to pay a tax or use his escort?”

Soris gave her a curious look. “You fringers really are out of touch.”

She blushed, realizing she’d made yet another misstep. “You have no idea,” she said quietly. How many times had she stuck her foot in her mouth since she’d met him? She heard the horses nervously whinny in the distance.

“It’s okay,” he said, taking her hand. “I didn’t mean to imply you were ignorant. How are you supposed to know everything that’s happened or how to react when you lived and trained so far away?” He looked at her apologetically.

She let out a little laugh, then shivered. “Will you promise me something?” she asked. Soris leaned over her, pulled the edge of the bedroll tight across her chest, then curled his arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head back, resting on his arm. She relaxed her shoulders and melted into him. For the first time in weeks, she felt completely at ease.

“After what you pulled off, I’d promise you anything,” he said with sincerity.

“When you see Estos and Andris again, will you tell them what you just told me?” She tried to imagine both their faces when they heard what she and Soris had accomplished. She felt his warm breath on her cheek. Thoughts of Estos and Andris disappeared when she turned and looked at him. Warmth poured from his eyes. He gave her a questioning look. She brought her hand to his face. “Thank you for . . .”

A million thoughts raced through her mind when he brushed his lips against her forehead. His cheek felt rough under her hand, but his lips were soft and full. He kissed her slowly and entwined his fingers in her hair, loosening her messy braid. She momentarily lost herself in the sensation of his kiss, forgetting where they were and who he was. She pulled away, slowly, and smiled. His breathing sounded labored, but he gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She opened her mouth to tell him the truth, to tell him everything. A muffled cry sounded behind her. He shifted his gaze from her eyes past her shoulder toward the caravan.

“Natalie.”

She tensed at the tone of his voice. She looked down at the field and saw a flash of movement. “I see them,” she whispered.

One of the travelers guarding the camp bellowed. Nala poured over the camp. Their blue bodies crawled over wagons and flew through the air, landing on top of fleeing travelers. A few travelers formed a circle, slashing outward with long blades. But the Nala sprang over them and landed in the center of the ring.

Soris yanked her arm, pulling her away from the nightmare playing out below them. He shoved her satchel into her hands and pushed her behind the rocks. The wooden bowl clattered to the ground. Nat peered over the narrow lip of the rock and recognized the wool merchant in the fighting. He slashed at an approaching Nala with a curved blade. The tip sliced through one of its pointed arms, and blue blood spurted across his tunic. The wool merchant’s son stood motionless next to his father with a dazed look on his face.
Why isn’t he helping him?
Nat thought, watching in horror as the wounded Nala stuck one of its pointed limbs into the wool merchant and brought him crashing to his knees. She drew her dagger and moved toward the edge of the rock, but Soris clamped a hand down on her shoulder.

“We can’t help. There are too many of them.” He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her away toward the cover of the long grass. More cries erupted from below. Nat spun around and saw a dozen faint figures on horseback watching the Nala attacking the merchants. Even in the early evening light, she could make out the blazing white circle on the arm of a few of the riders.

Soris stopped in his tracks. “Mudug’s guards.” His face contorted in anger.

“Why aren’t they doing anything?”

“They’re letting the Nala do their dirty work for them and take away the duozi.”

Nat glanced back at the soldiers. A blur of light hovering above one of the dancing horses caught her attention.
An orb?
Soris pulled her into the grass and she stumbled after him, shaking her head in disbelief. She’d seen a Sister in the midst of Mudug’s soldiers.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

After three nights of skirting through forests, scanning treetops, and wading through grass as high as Nat’s shoulders, the open valley that spread below was paradise to her eyes. Orange flowers, coaxed open by the sunrise, were sprinkled over the rocky ground that flowed into the valley. A dozen sheep grazed on the patches of grass that sprang around the rocks. Soris joined Nat in breathing in the sweet morning air. The memory of the Nala attack was still fresh in Nat’s mind, but the calm surroundings settled her nerves.

“Better than the muck we came through last night.” Soris settled into the grass. “I’m famished. What’s left?” He flipped open the top of his satchel. Nat glanced at the dark forest behind them, looking for any movement. Soris tugged at her sleeve. “You need to eat something.” He handed her the last bit of dried meat, and she dropped into the grass next to him.

“Benedict’s house isn’t far from here. I recognize those cliffs.” She pointed to the distance. Home was so close. “Maybe a day or two walking till we get there.” How many days or weeks had she been gone? The urge to run down the hill was overwhelming, but after nights of traveling with her neck craned to watch the treetops, she was exhausted. They both needed rest before moving on to Benedict’s. She handed her water flask to Soris. He took a quick drink, then capped the flask.

“I can’t stop thinking about them, Soris.” The images of the Nala pouncing on the merchants played over and over in her mind.

“There wasn’t a thing either of us could’ve done to help the merchants,” he said with a grim expression.

She shook her head. They’d had this same conversation in hushed tones many times since they’d fled the massacre. She knew he was right, but that didn’t make her feel any less guilty for leaving them.

“Mudug’s guard could have helped,” she said, remembering how passively they’d watched the slaughter.

“Mudug doesn’t care what happens to them, especially since the caravan contained duozi. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s happy there was a massacre. He can use it to scare more people into accepting his transports and paying his tax. He has the merchants in a choke hold, and fear will only tighten that hold.”

“Do you think Estos really can stop him?” This was the first time Nat voiced her doubt.

“By himself, no. But he can rally the people’s support and give the rebels someone to stand behind. We lived in peace for so long. Estos is a symbol of that peace and the balance the Sisters brought to Fourline. He’s the one who can restore that peace.”

Nat pulled a blade of grass. She twirled it in front of her face until it was nothing more than a green blur. “Speaking of Sisters, you still don’t believe what I saw, do you?”

“I’ll grant that you saw something, but a Sister riding with Mudug’s guards?” He shook his head. “A Sister would have to be out of her mind to align herself with him.”

She dropped the subject. She was certain she’d seen an orb and a rider wearing a Sister’s cloak, but she was too tired to argue.

“We need more water,” he said as he scratched his cheek. “And if Benedict isn’t back, we’ll need more food before we . . .” He looked at her with a worried expression. “Are you sure you want to split up at Benedict’s?”

No, I’m not.
The thought of traveling on without him made her feel anxious and confused. Other than holding her hand and helping her over rocks and up steep terrain, he hadn’t touched her since the night of the massacre, but his presence had made her feel safe. She snuck a quick look at him, then gazed out over the field at the distant cliffs, resigned to what was to come.

“You need to get back to Gennes to tell him what happened, and I need to get to Estos and Andris. Benedict’s is the safest place to split up.”

He still looked concerned.

“We haven’t seen a guard or the Nala in three days. Besides, I’m a Warrior Sister. Nothing to worry about,” she joked halfheartedly.

“I guess you can manage on your own, can’t you?” He fell back onto the grass. “Will I see you again, after you get word to Andris and Estos?” Soris rested, his eyes closed.

The realization that he wouldn’t see her hit her. Her throat tightened. “Probably,” she lied.

“If you can’t come with Andris and Estos, then you have to come with your other Sisters. Gennes can use Sisters in the rebellion. And I . . . I’d like to see you.” He shielded his eyes against the sun. She looked away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The grass poked her wrists. “I wasn’t expecting to make a friend in all this.” She remembered the sensation of his lips on hers and pushed the thought away.

“Nothing wrong with making a friend. Just because you’re a Sister doesn’t mean . . .” He paused and reached for her hand, but she pulled it away, not wanting to leave him with more lies or promises she couldn’t keep. He shifted away from her. “I know I stepped over the line when I kissed you. I didn’t mean to imply anything, Sister. I’d just like to see you again.”

“So would I, but I’m not sure it’ll happen,” she said deciding not to say anything about his kiss. Despite the warm sun, she felt cold. Soris sat up and leaned his head against his knees. They both watched the grazing sheep in silence. “Soris, what do you think makes a person a Sister?” she asked, wanting to think and talk about something else.

He squinted, and little lines formed around his eyes. “The training, the apprenticeship, the oath, the House. All the things a person goes through until she gets her marking and makes an orb. Just like what you went through.”

Nat sat quietly and shook her head. “I told you I was from a fringe house. It was different for me.” She thought of the tapestry she’d seen in Gennes’ camp. “Gennes has a tapestry in the Sisters’ quarters. Have you seen it?” Soris nodded in response. “It showed the beginning. Four girls, no formal training, no formal apprenticeship, and no House. They had each other—that was it.” She smiled ruefully at him. “I think my training was more like theirs.” She stood and brushed grass from her cloak, then traced the vine pattern on her forearm. She began to walk.

Soris fell into step next to her. “It makes no difference to me how you were trained. You’re a Sister—otherwise your House never would have given you those markings, and you wouldn’t have your orb.”

She bit her lip and didn’t respond. How could she keep lying to him after everything they’d been through? “Do you ever think about leaving Fourline? Finding some other place where you can live peacefully?” she asked.

He stopped and gazed down the hill toward the distant cottage. “No.” He shook his head. “Not as long as my brother, my family needs me. This is my home. I’ll stay and fight until Mudug’s gone and everything is the way it was before.” He picked a rock up and threw it far down the hill, where it disappeared into the lush grass.

The sun warmed her back as she stood silently next to him. A sad resignation settled over her. He’d never leave his home, and she couldn’t tell him the truth. She searched for something to say. “You’ll have Andris and Estos fighting with you soon.”

“It will be good to see Andris again. Try to come back with them.”

“I’ll try.” This time, the lie came easily.

“Water and rest before we move on?”

She nodded and grasped his hand, thinking how much she was going to miss the feeling of his strong fingers in hers. His hand slipped away when they stepped into the woods, each going in a different direction until they stopped in front of the same tree. After days of sleeping in the broad boughs of what Soris called a cafin tree, Nat knew precisely what they were looking for in a daytime hiding place.

Soris knelt down. “Up you go, Sister. I’ll get water and take first watch.”

Nat took a few steps back and ran toward the trunk. She planted her toes into the rough bark, scrambled up a few feet, and grabbed the lowest branch. “Thanks for the offer, but I am a Warrior Sister, Soris.” She climbed a few more branches and called down. “Throw a stone if you need a boost!” Soris grabbed a small pebble, aimed, and threw it in her direction. She laughed and ducked, disappearing behind the wide cluster of leaves surrounding the tree where he couldn’t see her smile fade away.

The bright light of her barrier penetrated the darkness of her dream space. A scraping sound, like a stick running across a metal fence, was incessant. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on the barrier and keeping what was on the other side out. She heard a muffled voice. Was it Annin? The voice grew more muffled until Soris’ scream tore through the air.

“Soris!” She tumbled off the branch. Her hand shot out just in time to grab a limb. The satchel flipped in the air and landed at the base of the tree. The rough bark scraped against her abdomen. She clutched the trunk, and her breathing slowed. The scream seemed so real, but it must have been a dream. Nat peered through the lower branches. No sign of Soris. He’d let her sleep too long. She slid down the tree trunk and landed near the base of the tree. The contents of her satchel were strewn on the ground.

“Soris?” she called while she stuffed the contents back into the bag. No answer. A breeze shifted the leaves and pine needles. The midmorning light danced around the forest floor. Maybe he was getting water. She looked up into the canopy. The treetops swayed slightly. A quick flash of a bird caught her attention.

“Soris?” she called again, pulling the small crossbow from the satchel. She walked silently toward the river they’d passed earlier in the morning. Light filtered through the trees. She kept the crossbow trained on the canopy. The forest floor sloped slightly, and a burbling sound grew louder. Peering through the trees, she saw Soris sitting on the riverbank. “Soris.” She lowered the crossbow and emerged from the forest. “You let me sleep too long.” He turned at the sound of her voice. A water flask fell from his hands.

“Behind!” he screamed. Nat dropped to the ground and a hot sting ripped through her shoulder. The Nala’s pointed hand stabbed the bank a few feet in front of her. It opened its blue mouth, and dark liquid dripped from a row of pointed teeth. A low hiss filled the space between them. She tried to move, but her arms and legs weren’t responding. It hissed again. At the sound of crunching gravel, it shifted to the side. Soris slashed his dagger through the air. The Nala flipped up and over Soris, landing on his back. Soris thrashed about, struggling to free himself from the snake-like constriction of the Nala’s arms. A piercing scream filled the air as the Nala sunk its teeth into his shoulder. Nat scrambled to her feet. The arrow from her crossbow flew fast, grazing the creature’s cheek just as it lifted its glossy head. It instantly released Soris, and he crumpled, motionless, to the ground. She skirted to the side, keeping the Nala in front of her.

It stabbed the ground as it moved behind Soris, making punching sounds in the soft soil. Blue blood pulsed down its smooth face. “He will be the duozi.” It pointed a sharp hand toward Soris. “But you”—it focused on Nat and turned a corner of its mouth into a twisted smile—“will die.” It sprang over Soris, coming down just as she lunged forward to thrust Barba’s dagger into its soft belly. Pushing it off to the side, Nat fell on her back to avoid its flailing arms. Her forearm shot out to break her fall, revealing the markings drawn on her skin.

Its eyes grew wide until they seemed to engulf the top half of its head. “Sister!” it screamed as it writhed on the smooth gravel. Its arms uncontrollably slammed into the hilt of the dagger, driving it deeper into its abdomen. It flipped and twisted like a fish on a riverbank until it twitched only slightly, then didn’t move at all.

Nat pushed herself up onto her elbows. The only sound was water rushing by and her frantic breathing. The Nala lay motionless, curled in a fetal position around the dagger. A sharp pain shot down her shoulder. She struggled to her feet, ran to Soris, and cradled his head in her lap. A bloody half circle of punctures covered his left collarbone. His pulse was wild. She pulled her fingers away from his neck. She frantically glanced upstream, and her eyes fell on the Nala. She gently placed Soris’ head on the gravel and reached for the crossbow. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to reload and the arrow dropped to the ground. She retrieved it and jammed it into the casing.

Her boots ground into the gravel, the sound growing louder as she approached the motionless blue creature. She aimed the crossbow at its chest and kicked its shoulder, pushing it flat on the ground. The creature flopped over, its pointed arms angled out like a
v
. She knelt down, trying to keep the crossbow steady. The dagger made a sucking sound when she pulled it from its abdomen. Prodding it with her feet, she rolled the body down the bank into the river. She grabbed a worn branch and stepped into the cold water. She pushed the Nala toward the fast current in the middle of the river. The tip of the branch ripped the skin on the creature’s back. The flowing water caught its head and flipped the Nala around. It floated feetfirst downstream. Nat dropped the branch and walked onto the bank, the bottom of her cloak dripping with water.

“Soris.” His bite was now encircled in a sickly blue. She replaced the ripped flap of fabric and pressed her hand against the wound. “Soris, you’ve got to wake up.” He lay motionless in her lap. The branches of the trees lining the riverbank swayed as a light wind rippled across the river. Nat saw movement everywhere. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut it out. Tears began streaming down her cheeks. “Soris, wake up, please,” she pleaded.