Cursed Bones: Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five (3 page)

“One of your men tried to rape me,” Isabel said, her shield firmly in place. “You told me this chamber was secure.”

Febus swallowed, looking from the dead soldier to Isabel.

“I’m so sorry,” Febus said. “I gave strict orders that you were to be treated with respect, but this man is brother to the man you killed outside the wall.”

“So he said. His disobedience cost him his life.”

Baqi burst into the room. “There you are, Kolo. I told you not to run off in the night.” He stopped suddenly, looking around at the soldiers, at Isabel, and at the corpse, before stepping in front of his dog.

“Kolo didn’t mean any harm,” he said. “You have to believe me.”

“Your dog killed a man,” Febus said, drawing himself up and looking down at the little boy. “We can’t have dangerous animals roaming the village at night.”

“Lieutenant Febus, this dog saved my life,” Isabel said, not wanting to reveal her power over animals. “You will leave the child and his dog alone, is that understood?”

“Yes, Lady Reishi,” he said, somewhat deflated.

“Go on home, Child,” Isabel said to Baqi with a wink.

“Lieutenant, remove this corpse, post two men at my door, and leave me.”

“By your command, Lady Reishi,” he said, motioning to his men to carry the dead soldier from the room and bowing on the way out.

Isabel sighed as she sheathed her sword and sat down on her bed. It seemed that the Regency had discipline problems. She curled up with her dagger and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Breakfast arrived while she was strapping on her armor. When she emerged from her quarters, the honor guard was preparing to depart.

“Ah, Lady Reishi, we’ll be ready within the hour,” Lieutenant Febus said.

“Very good, Lieutenant. How long will the journey take?”

“A week to ten days, depending on the weather and any threats we might encounter along the way,” Febus said. “The jungle is dangerous, home to many powerful predators, so we’ll be preparing a fortified encampment each night.”

“I trust you’ll take the necessary precautions,” Isabel said.

***

The first two days were uneventful. Isabel found herself alternately thinking about Alexander, wondering how he was and fretting over the way she’d left him, and marveling at the sheer volume of life surrounding her. The
Great
Forest
was vibrantly alive but the jungle was full of activity. All around her, the residents of the jungle went about their daily business of surviving, largely ignoring her and the two dozen soldiers cautiously traveling through the thick underbrush that was trying to swallow the road whole.

At night, the soldiers erected a hasty fence of sharpened timbers, lit several fires, and posted four guards to watch the darkness, lest it sneak in and run off with one of their sleeping companions.

By day, they rode along the narrow road, the jungle crowding them from either side. The soldiers were wary, nervous even, but Isabel found the place enchantingly wild and beautiful. She’d always liked the untamed quality of the
Great
Forest
, but it was slow to reclaim ground that man had conquered. Here, the thick vegetation was in a hurry, it wanted the road she was riding on and sometimes it didn’t seem to be willing to wait for her to pass.

Toward evening of the third day, Slyder caught her attention. She tipped her head back and linked her mind to his, looking through his eyes, but a moment too late. Three gorledons sprang from the lush green and pounced on the three men in the lead of the column, knocking them from their terrified horses. Then they grabbed each man by a limb, swinging them screaming over their shoulders, impaling them multiple times on the row of bone spikes running down the length of their backs. It all happened so quickly, one moment they were simply traveling, the next, three men were vanishing into the brush to become dinner for one of Karth’s more unpleasant predators.

To his credit, Lieutenant Febus didn’t give chase. He simply ordered that the frightened horses be brought back into the column, and the honor guard moved on, albeit with some grumbling from the men.

At that point, Isabel decided to take a more active role in the security of the detachment. She had assumed that these men, having grown up on Karth, living their whole lives in the jungle, were better suited to assess the dangers surrounding her, but they didn’t have her gifts. While she couldn’t control a magically created creature such as a gorledon, she could watch the jungle through Slyder’s eyes and keep any natural predators at bay.

The men treated her with a mixture of disdain, fear, and barely concealed hostility. She was responsible for killing two of their number and she was also the reason they’d had to leave the relative safety of the villages they were occupying.

Several times over the course of the journey, Isabel detected a jaguar stalking them and sent the animal harmlessly away. Once, a giant snake, easily thirty feet long, was poised on a tree limb above the path, preparing to take one of the men, but she commanded the animal to remain still and hidden. They passed by without incident.

By the fifth day, the magnificent beauty of the jungle had faded into the background. She was acting as a silent scout and protector for the men who were supposed to be protecting her. She realized that the jungle was altogether more hostile than the forest, and it required a whole different set of knowledge to traverse safely, knowledge that she had yet to acquire.

In the early afternoon, she was idly thinking about Alexander when she felt a sharp stinging sensation in the side of her neck. With a rising sense of alarm, she looked for the source as a feeling of numbing cold began to spread. Another sting, this time in her forearm, followed by more numbness. Frantically, she tried to call out a warning, but her voice wouldn’t work. Her horse went down and she landed hard, paralyzed and helpless, staring down the road at ground level.

The men of her honor guard fell quickly, their horses toppling as well. Lieutenant Febus lay on the ground several feet from her, immobile, but from the fear in his eyes, still aware. Isabel saw a small dart in his neck.

Then the men came, emerging from the jungle, as if, just a moment ago, they were a part of the brush and canopy itself. They moved with fluid grace and deliberate menace, lifting each man by the hair, looking him closely in the face and then cutting his throat while they stared into his dying eyes.

One who was dressed more elaborately than the rest picked up Lieutenant Febus by the hair, stared him in the eye and casually cut his throat. Before he dropped the Regency officer, he turned and looked Isabel in the eye, then smiled.

A moment later, the world went black.

Chapter 3

Isabel slowly started to wake, struggling to focus her mind past a haze of pain in her head. She rubbed the grit from her eyes, but they burned terribly when she opened them. Her tongue felt swollen and she felt an intense thirst. She sat up, trying to work up enough saliva to swallow, her head reeling from the sudden movement.

She was in a dark room with only a sliver of dim light cutting through the black. She steadied herself with one hand while rubbing her eyes with the other until she could keep them open long enough to look around. In the dim light, she could see that she was in a small room formed from a natural cave. A stout wooden wall and door occupied one side.

Fighting to clear her head, she began to assess her situation. Her weapons and armor were gone. Her pack was missing as well. She was sitting on a pallet covered with straw. The only other items she could see were two buckets, one on either side of the door. She crawled to one, jerking her head back from the foul smell, then to the other. Cautiously she dipped her hand into the dark bucket and felt the cool touch of water. Slowly, deliberately, she slaked her thirst, taking care to remain silent lest her captors become aware that she was awake.

She sat back and closed her eyes, linking her mind with Slyder. He was perched atop a tree in the jungle looking down into a little village secreted in a box canyon. Several cave entrances surrounded the dozen or so huts at the center of the hidden community. Men were coming and going, many looked and acted like soldiers, though few wore uniforms.

She withdrew from Slyder and spent several minutes just breathing in an effort to quiet the hammering in her head. She assumed that the poison darts that had rendered her unconscious were responsible for the pain and dehydration she was feeling. After a few minutes, her head began to clear.

Muffled voices filtered through the door. She stood carefully, testing her legs and balance before attempting to take the few steps to the little slit in the door that was the room’s sole source of light. Beyond was another cave, larger and occupied by three men, all armed and wearing armor.

She stepped back and started whispering the words to her shield spell, calling on her anger and focusing her mind the way she’d done countless times in the past … but this time, something was different.

The rage wasn’t there.

She forced the spell and made a connection with the firmament, opening herself to the source of creation, but only for the briefest moment. The firmament called to her, beckoning with the promise of infinite possibility, and she wasn’t angry enough to resist.

It felt like she was falling.

She slammed the link shut, staggered by the implications of what had just happened. Without rage, she couldn’t defend herself against the pull of the firmament, couldn’t cast her spells.

She sat down and recalled all of the hardships that had been inflicted on her and her loved ones over the past several months. Worked at bringing them to the front of her mind so she could feel the injustices done to her, but try as she might, the anger wouldn’t come.

Her mind was clear but her emotional intensity was somehow blunted. She could understand the rightness of feeling anger for the things that had been done to her, to Alexander, to the world, but she couldn’t
feel
the anger the way she needed to. Without that emotional control, she was powerless as a witch.

She swallowed hard. First she’d been deprived of her connection to the realm of light, a gift of such magnitude that she considered it her greatest power, valued it above all things save Alexander’s love. Now her emotional control, necessary for a witch to access the firmament, was gone. The things she valued most were being taken from her, one by one. She felt Azugorath scratching at the edge of her psyche, promising power and purpose.

She calmed herself and thought of Alexander, thought of her love for him … but it too was blunted. Losing the anger was one thing, but losing her ability to feel the deep and abiding joy that her love for Alexander created within her was too much. She thought she would cry, but the tears didn’t come either. The pain of her loss was blunted as well.

She could still feel … just not intensely. Her eyes narrowed. This was too specific to be an accident. Either it was a side effect of the poison or she’d been drugged. If she’d been drugged, then her captors knew about her magic and had the means to counter it.

She carefully searched the little room for a weapon but found nothing except the two buckets. After drinking again, she stood and pounded on the door, then stepped back and waited. There was some commotion from beyond, then the door opened. A swarthy-looking man, muscles toned from routine exertion, stood in the doorway and appraised her.

“You’re a prisoner of the House of Karth,” he said. “If you try to escape, you’ll be killed. Otherwise, we’ll treat you honorably.”

Isabel quickly assessed her options and decided that attempting escape right now was unwise. She needed more information about her captors before she chose a course of action.

“Very well,” she said. “I wouldn’t know which way to run anyway.”

The guard cocked his head quizzically, as if he hadn’t expected her response.

“Can I have something to eat?” she asked.

He nodded, motioning to the table occupying the center of the guard chamber. A tray with a variety of tubers, berries, and fruits sat on the table, the remnants of the guards’ meal.

Isabel wasn’t bashful. From the grumbling in her stomach, she suspected she’d been unconscious for days rather than hours. The food was surprisingly good, but before she’d eaten her fill, another man entered, followed by the third guard.

This man was tall, easily over six feet, but not muscular like the guards. He was lithe and wiry as if he’d spent his days moving through the jungle. His hair was jet black, his complexion golden brown, and his eyes were dark and brooding. With a gesture, he dismissed the guards and sat down opposite Isabel, absentmindedly selecting a piece of fruit from the tray as he scrutinized his prisoner.

She held his gaze for a moment and then went back to eating. For several moments neither said a word, they simply shared a meal in silence. Once he’d finished his piece of fruit, he took a drink from a nearby flagon and sat forward.

“I am Trajan Karth. My father has summoned you. It will be a journey of several days. If you attempt to escape, you will be killed.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Isabel said around a mouthful of food.