Lunatic (12 page)

Johnis straightened and started up the bridge where the general waited. Ten feet away he stopped and bowed. Silvie followed him, hood low.

"Forgive the delay, sir," he said. "What does the general require of us?"

Marak's gray eyes scrutinized Johnis and Silvie from head to toe and back. "What are you doing down there?"

"Looking for albinos, sir. We were told some escaped last night and that a reward was out for their recapture. Naturally, my wife and I were more than eager to help you be rid of the vermin."

Marak studied them closer, eyes narrow. "Is that so? I don't believe that knowledge was public yet."

"I understand that, General. But you see, the ruckus last night had my attention, and there was this guard-"

Marak's face hardened instantly, his anger creasing his skin until it cracked through the morst and began to flake. "Which guard?"

Inside Johnis was reeling, fighting the urge to whip around and run back toward the trees where no one would find him.

The desert. The desert was always safe.

johnis . . .

He shook the presence off. Not now. "I'm afraid I failed to ask his name, sir. Please, my intention isn't to get anyone in trouble. I only meant to help."

"Really. How thoughtful of you."

The endless itching, like ravenous wolves gnawing on bones, tormented him. His hand instinctively went to scratch, but he caught himself, unwilling to show his arms.

Marak snorted. "All right, move along, then. And if you do happen across those albinos ... Tell them I'm going to make them wish they were dead."

The desert, the desert, the desert ...

Aid me, Chosen One. . . "

Focus already, johnis!

"We will, General." He bowed again and left with Silvie in tow.

She looped her arm around his and leaned close. "He's watching."

"Keep walking," he whispered back.

Her weight pressed against him. Under her cloak, her hand was probably already on a knife, half-drawn and ready to unleash on whoever threatened them.

"Still watching?"

"He's not, but his second is." She hesitated, then spoke. "We have to find water, Johnis."

"The desert, johnis ... Come to the desert and aid me. . . "

"Out in the desert where Thomas is, not here in this blasted forest!" She was getting impatient. They needed water, soon.

No more resisting. Too many women involved.

He wanted to hit something.

"Fine," he responded.

"We can come back for her," Silvie argued. Elyon alive, what was she arguing for? "But we have to leave now."

"Fine."

"Seriously, if I don't get to water, I will be hunting albinos in the service of the Horde myself! You know the disease will ruin our minds."

"I said fine!" he snapped. He strode faster, off the beaten path and into the forest. Once they were out of sight of the general and his men, they lost the urge to keep quiet.

"You don't have to be so ..."

His mind drifted.

The strange woman's voice flooded his mind. "Come, johnis ... between the southern gap and forest wander I ... Render me aid, mighty Chosen One ... chosen for appointed tasks none else may bear. . .

"Are you even listening to me?"

"You keep saying the same things over and over again. Let me see your knife."

She glowered at him. He was being demanding, but at the moment he didn't care.

They were leaving Darsal to the disease. To the Horde.

Johnis carved another Book of History into yet another sacrificial tree. Seven books, seven trees.

Below this one he added a catalina cactus.

An image of the canyons between Natalga Gap and the southern edge of Middle came into mind. They'd been there many times. Their first mission together they'd gone in search of catalina cacti.

What could possibly be different now?

"`Chosen for appointed tasks none else may bear,"' he muttered, trying to work out the meaning.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. You think she'd understand we went south?"

"Who said we were going south?" Silvie sheathed her knife he'd borrowed.

"I did." He didn't want to tell her about the beautiful woman again. It would only irritate her.

"Well, I disagree. You're forgetting you already said Thomas most likely would go north. You're right. The Horde is too familiar with the canyons and Natalga Gap. And there's a Horde city out that way. Assuming it's still there after five years."

"The Horde has the forests. They no longer need a desert dwelling."

Silvie conceded. "Why south?"

He started walking. She really needed to learn to trust him. "If we move fast we can make the north edge of the Natalga Gap before dark."

She grabbed him. "Why south?" Her gray eyes narrowed. "That woman of yours. She told you to go out there."

Johnis shrugged free. "We're going into the desert because we're out of time to try finding Darsal."

"That wasn't my question. I know that already. That woman's gotten to you, hasn't she?"

Johnis went south, fully expecting her to follow.

"What if it's a trap?"

He laughed. "Silvie, what possible reason could a woman I've never met have to trap me? The disease is messing with you. You're the one begging me for water. Are we going or not?"

She scowled. Then started after him. "Fine."

edan tried twice-well, twice that Darsal could remember-to offer her some solace, but she would have none.

Futile.

Beneath the cocoon of a tattered, borrowed cloak, her skin began to turn brittle. The pain in her joints made her moan on the floor of her tiny cell.

"Darsal," Jordan said, "you must eat."

"Do you believe me yet?" she asked from beneath her cloak.

Hesitation.

"I believe you're in a lot of pain. Sit up and eat something. Drink the water they left you. It'll help."

Darsal stretched her limbs and back and pushed back the cloak. Her cellmates gasped. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, then felt her skin slough off.

She yelped and held her hands where she could see.

Long cracks covered her body and split into flakes like dried mud baking in the sunlight. Tanned skin and dark hair had turned grayish white.

Sign of the living dead.

"Now do you believe?" she demanded. "I'm turning to Horde. Elyon's forsaken me. I begged him. I wanted to believe you. I really did."

Jordan's eyes were wide, and his face had gone completely white. Instinctively he looked at his hands, then pulled up his sleeves, just to be certain.

"How are you only now beginning to turn?" Xedan drew back.

"It's complicated." Darsal scratched, further deflated when flakes of dried skin sloughed off. "I don't understand how it works. But I'm trapped in here, and it's over. I'm as good as dead."

"Drink something," Xedan said. "Drink the water. It'll clear your-

"Forget the water! It doesn't matter! It doesn't matter!" Darsal curled into a ball and whipped the cloak back over her again.

Her skin hurt and itched.

Her bones and joints were stiff and aching.

She had no way out.

"Darsal." She heard Jordan raise up on his knees and shuffle around, could imagine his hands on the bars and face pressed against the slimy metal. "Darsal, remember what you asked my grandfather?"

She clenched her teeth and gave him silence.

More movement. "Here," Jordan said, "Give this to her."

"I don't want it."

"Take it, Darsal," Jordan insisted. Xedan pressed something round in her hand. His leather pendant.

"I can't take this from you."

"You'll want it when you catch the Circle." Jordan looked down, frowning. "We don't have much longer anyway."

She brought her hand back under the cloak and pressed it to her chest. Still she didn't speak. Jordan, however, was undeterred. "Darsal, listen to me. You know it's going to affect your mind soon. You've been gone a long time, and there's much to say and little time. Are you listening to me?"

Silence. Xedan's three fingers gently took hold of her foot and squeezed. "Elyon hasn't forsaken you, dear."

"Darsal, you need to drown. You need to find a red lake and drown. You have to get out-"

"I know I need to bathe!"

"No, you don't need to bathe. You need to drown!" Jordan yelled. A corrective look from Xedan settled him a little. He took a breath, worked his fists. "All of Elyon's lakes are red now. But you can't just take a swim. Elyon changed the rules. You have to dive into the water and drown. You understand?"

"I'm going Scab, so you're plotting my death?"

"Darsal!" Jordan bellowed her name with the force of one in authority, a man rebuking a child.

She went quiet.

Jordan softened his voice. "I am not trying to kill you, girl. I'm trying to help save you. Do you want to become a Scab?"

"No."

"So listen to me. There's a hidden pool the Guard used to use. It's right near the southern edge of the forest. The Horde never found it, but it's red. It's not very wide, but it's very deep. I want you to escape here and find-"

"A hidden pool."

"A hidden pool I'm going to tell you how to find. Grandfather doesn't even know where this one is. And then you can make your way around-"

The dungeon door clanked open. Torchlight poured into the hall. Darsal pulled Xedan's cloak further over her head and faked sleep.

"What do you want now?" Despair flooded Jordan's voice. His wife. They must have come for Rona again. Oh, Jordan ...

How much could one man take?

Shuffling feet. Darsal heard a scuffle and Jordan's desperate pleas not to take Rona. She heard him fall, heard the sound of a boot striking human flesh with a dull thud.

Then a new guard spoke. "Is she alive or dead?"

"She's ill," Xedan replied, stricken. "There was no cause for that."

"You're all ill."

"Elyon, don't take her," Jordan pleaded, presumably from the ground. His voice was shaky from the brief-but sound-beating. He groaned.

The guard didn't respond. Darsal heard the woman being dragged away.

"Could you bring her another blanket?" Xedan asked. "And perhaps some more fruit? It'll help."

The guard scoffed. "She's going to die down here regardless." He left, shadows creeping in his wake. The lock creaked into place.

"HE'S TAKING HER AGAIN?" CASSAK ASKED HIS SCOUT. HE'D left the council and gone to take care of some leftover business with the rebels.

The scout nodded sharply.

He had to keep an eye on the throater.

And he had to keep Eram's men and Marak's men separated.

"When?" he snapped.

"Just now. Right after the general left his brother."

Cassak swore. "Marak went down there?" Of all the stupid things to do.

"Yes, sir."

"Fine. Send word to Commander Reyan. I'll be an hour late. No one is to disturb the rebels."

"Captain, the commander is-"

"I said go," he snapped. His scout looked perplexed. Cassak was only a captain, and he answered to Reyan. The apparent defiance stunned the scout.

"Tell him it's for Marak," Cassak supplied. "General's orders come first."

ohnis's legs hurt. Both calves and thighs felt like someone was filleting him with knives. With every step and with each painful motion the realization that his journey really was over sank in further. Life as he knew it was dead. Over. Gone.