The Shadowhand Covenant (12 page)

Shhhk!
A wooden blowgun dart stuck out in the ice, a hair's width from my little finger.

These people were
obsessed
with my little fingers!

With no choice, I sprang to my feet and tried to hopscotch toward the far bank.

I deftly traversed two floes. The third splintered the instant I landed. Acting quickly, I blindly threw myself forward as the third floe disintegrated and sank. I fell face-first onto a sheet of ice that wobbled under my weight. Wearily, I stood and tried to spot a path to the far side.

There was now more river than ice between Maloch and me. He was jogging along the bank to keep up with me as the floe carried me faster and faster downstream. Unfortunately, Reena and Holm were also keeping pace.

“Rock!” Maloch shouted.

I followed his pointing finger and saw a large piece of stone sticking out of the river like a starshark fin. Before I could react, my ice floe smashed into the rock, flinging me backward into the river.

The freezing water engulfed me. Every limb went numb. My wobbly legs kicked against the raging current until my head emerged from the river and I could breathe again. I flailed about and managed to wrap my arms around the very rock that had just destroyed my makeshift raft. Feeling drained
from my fingers. I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

Across the way, Maloch ran to a fallen tree trunk and tore off a large sheet of bark the size of his chest. Then he ran upstream, away from me.

“Don't leave me!” My words came out garbled as I swallowed mouthfuls of water. But once Maloch got farther away, he turned, studied the river, then jumped onto a passing floe. He zigzagged across bits of ice, heading for the middle of the river.

Shhk! Shhk!
Reena and Holm fired dart after dart at Maloch. He held the chunk of bark up like a shield, deflecting the Sarosan missiles. When Maloch reached a large floe, he got down on all fours and used the bark as a paddle. The floe changed direction, moving closer to me. Maloch tossed the bark aside and held out his arm.

I let go my death grip on the rock, grasping at Maloch's outstretched hand. With a powerful heave, he pulled me onto the floe. I gasped and panted, barely able to move. Maloch spun around and kicked at the fin stone with both feet. The ice floe responded, floating across the river until we struck the far bank. We hardly had time to scramble onto the safety of the ground before the floe resumed its trek down the river.

I shivered uncontrollably. If Reena and Holm decided to brave the increasingly smaller ice trail across the river, we were done for. There was no way I could run, especially now that the chilly air had started to freeze my soaked clothes. Maloch winced as he pulled himself to his feet. He waved across the surging river at our pursuers.

“It's been fun,” he said. “Enjoy Umbramore Tower. You're headed there soon.”

“This is your last chance,” Reena said, hands on her hips. “Come back with us now and you won't get hurt.”

Maloch laughed. “In case you hadn't noticed, dolly girl, you can't hurt us from all the way over there.”

Everything about the way she stood said that Reena believed otherwise. “You'll change your mind now that it's morning, Mighty Boy.”

Maloch blew her off, waving his hand at her, then turned to walk into the forest. I stood, staring across at Reena.

“Jaxter, come on,” Maloch said.

Morning? What did the morning have to do with anything? I looked to the horizon nervously. The sky burned red where, any minute now, the sun would pop up.

Reena and Holm stood their ground, like they were waiting
for me to work it out.
Morning
. . . It was when things got light. It was when the day began. It was when the Sarosans drank in honor of First Rise.

My fingers tingled as I wiped the sweat from my brow. Sundown, yesterday, was when the Sarosans had last fed us. I remembered what Kolo said:
Not all prisons have locks. Sometimes our prisons are within
.

And that's when I understood. It all added up. The pain. The weak knees. It wasn't dehydration. How could I have been so stupid?

Maloch shook me. I turned to find him glaring at me. “Are you coming or—?”

“We have to go with them, Maloch,” I whispered, nodding at Reena and Holm, who waited patiently.

Maloch folded his arms. “And why's that?”

“Because,” I said, looking him right in the eye, “they poisoned us.”

“Faith and bronzemerks will buy you a gannyloaf from the breadsmith.”

—Ancient par-Goblin proverb

M
aloch shot a look at Reena and Holm, then turned back to me and whispered, “What do you mean, poisoned?”

“It's how they were making sure we wouldn't go anywhere,” I said. “They poisoned our evening meal and gave us the antidote every morning in our water. That's why we felt horrible whenever we woke up, and why they insisted we drink. If we escaped during the night before taking the antidote, we'd get sicker and sicker and slow down until they found us.”

I stepped around Maloch and called over to Reena. “Essence of almaxa, is it?”

Reena nodded. Essence of almaxa was a slow-acting poison. It took a full day to hit its highest potency. It was a smart way to keep an escaped prisoner from getting no more than a day's journey away. That explained why the water tasted sweet each morning. It was laced with amberberry pollen, the cure for almaxa poisoning.

“Well,” Maloch yelled across the river, “the joke's on you!” He slapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close. “My buddy Jaxter here has read your little book and already knows how to cure us. You lose!” He pointed to the pouches on my belt.

“Uh,” I said, under my breath, “actually, being in the river just ruined everything in my pouches. The amberberry pollen will have washed away.”

As if she'd heard me, Reena cupped her hands around her mouth and said, “We've got plenty of amberberry back in the camp. And you'll get some if you come back with us. Peacefully.” She looked right at Maloch as she hit that last word.

Maloch, overcome by the poison, sank down on the
bank. I wiped my glasses off on his dry shirt, then waved our surrender.

Holm produced a small ax from the leather satchel on his back and went to work cutting down twin trees. When they fell, they spanned the width of the river. Maloch and I crawled across the crude bridge and raised our hands when we reached the other side. Reena shoved us roughly in the direction of the Sarosan camp.

By now, the morning sun was a half circle on the horizon, and Maloch and I had grown pale and even more sickly. Maloch plodded along, keeping his chin high to preserve a shred of dignity.

I didn't even bother. Between the poison tearing my insides up and the wet clothes numbing my outsides, it took all my effort to keep from collapsing, never mind trying to look rebellious. It wasn't long before I finally fell to the ground and curled up into a tight ball, shaking.

“I c-c-can't go on,” I said, teeth chattering like a drummer gone mad.

“Get up!” Reena said, prodding me with her dagger.

I shook my head. “I can't f-f-feel my feet. Or my hands.
I'm going to freeze to death. I need a fire.”

Reena shook her head. “We're near the perimeter defenses of the camp, which means we're not far. You can make it.”

For once in my life, I wasn't acting even a little bit. Frostbite was setting in. I couldn't bend my fingers or my legs. She had to see that I wasn't going anywhere.

“Look,” Maloch said, his eyelids drooping, “you've got us. We can't escape. We're only hurting ourselves by asking you to stop and start a fire. Just get Jaxter warm and we'll go back with you.”

Reena and Holm studied each other, unsure. I played the one and only card I had left.

“I'm no use to you dead,” I said. “Please. Build a fire.”

The siblings conferred quietly. When they finished, Holm took out his ax and went in search of firewood while Reena dashed about, gathering kindling. Maloch dropped to one knee at my side.

“Th-thanks for the rescue,” I said. “I th-thought I'd d-drown.”

“You realize that they're taking us back so they can kill us, right?” he replied.

“Er . . . no. I lied. They weren't going to kill us. They
were going to chop off my little finger.”

Maloch's fists clenched. Dense as he was, even he realized that everything we'd just been through was for nothing.

Well, not nothing. I still had my little fingers.

“When we get back to their camp,” he said, with a low and dangerous tremor in his voice, “I'm personally going to hold you down when they swing the blade.”

Reena and Holm built a decent-sized fire. My skin prickled as the heat slowly brought sensation back to my body. I peeled off as much wet clothing as I dared and laid it by the base of the fire to dry.

With an hour tops until Warras cut off my finger, I had this one chance to reason with Reena and Holm. I had to say
something
that would allow me to keep all my bits intact. There was only one thing I could think to say. And it was a huge risk.

“You know,” I said to Reena, “we could help each other. No one has to coerce the Dowager. We can find the people who stole from the High Laird and clear the Sarosans' names.”

“Jaxter . . .” The threat in Maloch's voice was palpable, but I ignored him. I knew very well I was defying the Lymmaris Creed. But if you read the copy of the Lymmaris
Creed as written in the Grimjinx family album, you'll find lots of annotations made by my ancestors. The most important note, written at the bottom of the creed in the hand of my great-great-great-grandmother, Syra Grimjinx, says, “If you can save your hide, ignore the Lymmaris Creed.”

Reena and Holm looked at each other but remained silent, so I pressed on. “That's all you want, right? Let us help.” A small lie, but it got Reena's attention.

“And why would you do that?” she asked, poking the fire with a stick but refusing to look at me. “What's in it for you?”

I clenched my fists and thought,
For a start, I'd get to keep all my fingers
. But I chose my words carefully and said, “Maloch's father is a Shadowhand. You must know them by reputation. Not only are they skilled thieves, but they're amazing trackers. Help us find Maloch's da and he can help us track the real thieves.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Maloch watching me carefully. I could tell that he suddenly understood what I'd suspected for some time: the Shadowhands had stolen from the High Laird and were letting the Sarosans take the blame.

“That's right, dolly girl,” Maloch said, jumping in and
running with my lie. “My da's the best tracker there is. He can help.”

Reena remained unconvinced. “Why do we have to find your da? Is he missing?”

“It's a long story,” I said, hoping to avoid any more explanations. I held out my shivering hand. “A truce? What do you think?”

“I think,” Reena said, leveling both Maloch and me with her nastiest look, “that you would say anything to get out of this.”

“Yep,” I said. “But have you noticed that a lot of what I've told you turned out to be true? Like how I told you the vessapedes would attack. And how taking the eggs would lead the vessapedes out of the camp. I was right about those, and I'm right about this.”

Holm leaned back on his hands. “Not that we're believing you, but what is it you want to do?”

Maloch sat forward. He was interested in the answer too. Now I really had to improvise.

“You two go back to the camp, bring us the amberberry pollen, and then the four of us can set out to find Maloch's da.” It was a ridiculous proposal. I hoped it would seem at
least somewhat reasonable to them.

“You could really help,” Maloch added. “You're . . . pretty good with that blowgun.”

Reena looked confused by the unexpected compliment. For just a second, I thought she was going to take our offer. Then she threw her head back and laughed. She got to her feet. “Break's over. Let's move out.”

I pointed to my still-damp clothes. “Just a bit longer? I'm almost dry.” She'd hesitated, which meant the idea had
some
appeal. If I could just keep her talking about it . . .

But she'd already started kicking snow onto the fire, the flames disappearing with a smoky hiss. I looked to Maloch, hoping he'd help me try to talk her into going. But his eyelids were half-closed, and he'd grown much paler.

“Let's go,” he said with a grunt. “All I care about now is getting that antidote.” He struggled to stand, then gripped me under the arms to help me up.

Holm, who'd remained huddled by the smoldering embers to soak up every last bit of heat, looked up sharply. In one fluid action, he leaped to his feet and brandished a dagger, eyes darting around wildly.