Forbidden Forest (The Legends of Regia) (12 page)

Syrus was up and poking around the kitchen when she came back inside. His head was stuck in the pantry and he muttered curses as his hands shifted things around.

“Syrus?

He started guiltily, and he knocked a box of cheerios to the floor, spilling them all over the kitchen. He huffed in exasperation and threw his hands in the air.

Forest chuckled. “What are you looking for? I told you I put the Lucky Charms right in the front.”

“I don’t want Lucky Charms, I want Count Chocula,” he said petulantly.

“Oh. Well, I’m sure your great uncle Dracula would be so proud,” she said as she came forward to dig the cereal out for him. “You’d better be careful how much you eat of that stuff. It’ll rot your fangs.”

He ignored her warning and plunged his hand into the cereal box with gusto, preferring to eat it dry. He couldn’t stand milk.

“So, what are we doing today?” he asked.

“
I
have business to attend to in town. We need to get ready to leave. Kendel could send word any time now. When I get back, you should let me cut your hair.”

Syrus grimaced and made a little whining noise in his throat.

Forest ground her teeth together. “You have to get over this.”

Syrus acted as if he hadn’t heard her, stuffing his mouth with another handful of cereal, and turning his back to her. Forest clenched her fists, wishing she had something to throw at the back his head. She contemplated just grabbing a pair of scissors and charging at him.

“Okay. Go ahead and sulk. I have work to do.”

Forest grabbed a big tote bag from the closet and went down to the basement, boiling with annoyance. She began to fill the bag with the stuff she knew Tek would want the most. The tote was heavy once it was full and her back would be aching by the time she reached the Fair. Right as she was about to leave she found Syrus blocking the front door with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What?” she half yelled.

“I’ve decided that I’m not going to let you cut my hair, not ever.”

Forest’s mouth dropped open.
I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him right now
!

“There are other things we can do to disguise me. I can wear my hair in another fashion, but I cannot simply let you cut it. It’s too important to me. I just can’t.”

Forest’s face and voice were frozen impassive. “Are you finished?” she asked in deadly politeness.

He didn’t reply.

“I can’t wait till we’re done with this and you are out of my life!”

Syrus flinched a little before composing his face in a casual sneer. “The feeling’s mutual, baby.”

He moved away from the door, and Forest exited through it. She walked through her yard, out onto the road. She was so incensed that she couldn’t even feel it, she just walked at a brisk pace like a robot.

Forest was half way to town before she could begin to come up with ways to deal with Syrus. She wasn’t even capable of thinking his name before that. She would deal with him. She just hadn’t yet figured out how. The problem was that he was the prince. Even though they both didn’t want anyone to know that, he did have the authority to tell her what was what, even if he was dead wrong. Even if he was a colossal moron!

By the time she reached the Fair, the heavy tote had worn a ridge in her shoulder. A rambunctious open market, the Fair resembled a massive gypsy camp. Distained and shunned by those who thought it low class and thoroughly enjoyed by everyone else. The Fair busted at the seams with the dregs of society, with plenty of illegal activity to go around. No one seemed to care enough what happened in the Fair to police it. The teenage children of the high and mighty often snuck away from their homes to revel in the base pleasures of the Fair.

She walked the heavily trodden path through the brightly colored tents and open fire pits to the end of the row, where Tek’s patchwork tent stood, defiantly taller than anyone else’s. Forest kept her eyes on the ground so no one would recognize her. Tek had a small wooden sign hanging at the doorway of his tent that read,
Human Relics
. Forest passed through the flap to find him sitting slumped on a stool, his head lolling on his chest, snoring loudly. She took the opportunity to look at his stock. He was low.

She glanced at Tek and decided to see just how asleep he really was. She stuffed a few outdated celebrity gossip magazines into her cloak, along with three bottles of nail polish and turned to leave.

“Thief!”

She ducked just in time as a dart went flying past her ear. Forest turned, laughing, and looked Tek straight in the eyes. “I knew you weren’t really asleep, Old Dog.”

“Oh, Forest!” he exclaimed, lowering the blowgun from his mouth. “It’s about time, Missy! Look at my shelves!”

“I have. Sorry.”

She hefted the tote bag onto the counter. His little brown eyes gleamed as he opened it greedily. Tek looked as downtrodden as his shelves. Was he depressed? He always attempted to keep his rough werewolf appearance to a minimum. Yet now, his clothes were dirty with the exception of his black Stetson and his green snakeskin boots.

“So, Tek…” Forest began casually as he continued to pull out and stack things on the counter. “I’ve only just come back to Regia. What’s been going on?”

“Hmm?…Oh this is good.” He said pulling out a stack of romance novels. “I’ll make a fortune on these… Oh! Fantastic Forest!” he exclaimed finding a bunch of temporary tattoos.

“Tek?”

“What?”

“What’s the gossip?”

He shot her a piercing look for a second. “What have you heard?” he demanded aggressively. “It’s not true, I swear! Me and Martia are just friends. That’s all. Just friends.”

Forest blinked at him for a second before bursting out with laughter. “Really, Tek. I’ve known about you and Martia for a long time. Everyone at fair knows about you two. What are you all uptight about? Did you ask her to mate or something?”

“I did not!” Tek blushed brilliantly. “She asked me,” he mumbled.

“You’re a lucky wolf. She’s lovely.”

Tek’s cheek pulled up into a small smile. “She is, isn’t she?”

“Congratulations.”

“Oh shut up. I hate how everyone acts like it’s so great.” He dug out the last pair of flip-flops from the tote and threw it angrily down on the ground. “It’s not my fault I fell for an ogre. I only agreed because I’m too old to breed.”

Forest chuckled. “Yes, you two would have interesting offspring. Just think what the Were-soldiers would do to you for that offense.”

Tek shuddered at the thought. “Yeah, like I need that kind of trouble. I still have an outstanding warrant on my head.”

Forest’s face grew serious. “I’m happy for you and Martia. But I wouldn’t be if you planned on having children. It’s too hard to be a Halfling. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Tek nodded gravely. “So what do I owe you?”

“Forget it. Think of it as a mating present. Just tell me the Regian gossip outside of your own dealings.”

“Oh, well. I heard that Philippe has been organizing for war, but that he’s been acting odd. Odder than usual, that is. Like maybe he’s got some secret weapon. The Lair issued a decree for all wolves to engage in social disobedience. Nothing has really happen yet. Everyone was expecting King Zeren to make a swift and nasty military response, but he’s done nothing. He has made no statements or appearances, and neither has the queen. It’s like he’s waiting for something. No idea what. Everyone I know is feeling the tension, but it’s all quiet. We’re all just spectators, waiting for the show to start.”

“I see. Anything else?” Forest asked.

“Oh! You should have been around a few days ago! The Elves came out and publicly gave their support to the Vampires.”

“What?”

“Oh yes. Quite the stir it’s causing. Apparently, it all happened because the Elves and the Shifters in power got into a huge argument. Something about dishonorable battle tactics on the Shifters side.”

“What battle tactics?”

“No idea.” Tek shrugged. He scratched his bearded chin for a moment.

“So what do you think?” Forest asked.

“Well, you know I’m a traitor to the core. I think Zeren is a good king. He’s lost his edge since Syrus died, but then who wouldn’t? I think Philippe hired the hit on Syrus. It’s a shame really. This will probably be the war that will shift the balance of power. Not looking forward to it myself. I like Regia the way it is, but Philippe will try to turn it into France. I don’t want to change my name to Pierre or Jean Claude.”

“Or Peppy La Pue.” Forest laughed, but she was feeling tense. The news he had given her wasn’t good.

“I’ve also had word that there is a storyteller traveling through. I hope they will be persuaded to spend a while at our humble little fair.”

Even though this news had nothing to do with Forest’s purpose, she was interested nonetheless. “Really? I haven’t listened to a storyteller since I was a child. I didn’t even know there were any left.”

“Yeah. Storytellers have been thin through this region for the last hundred years. Why don’t you come into the back and have a drink?” Tek invited.

Forest chewed her lip for a second. “Only one,” she said sternly.

****

It had begun to rain by the time Forest left the Fair. Her mind churned with the news Tek had given her. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she hardly noticed when she reached the outskirts to her land. The rain had thoroughly saturated her, her hair dripping and clinging to her face. As soon as she entered her garden, all thought snapped off like a light switch. Unconsciously she held her breath and didn’t move. Syrus was seemingly unaware of her presence, and she wanted to keep it that way.

She couldn’t have looked away if she tried. He was at the far end of the garden near the house, barefooted and stripped to the waist, his body moving in beautiful precision, sliding through the raindrops as though he were dancing with the storm. Forest recognized that he was practicing the Blood Kata’s forms. She had seen others doing the same moves, had even learned some of them herself. But now all of her memories of watching students or masters of the Kata seemed robotic and ugly next to Syrus’ liquid grace. Admiration and awe tainted with a swirl of jealousy. Discipline as beauty.

Then she noticed her sword lying on the ground close to where he was practicing. Outrage and offense slammed into her like a battering ram.
How dare he
?!
How dare he use her sword
?!
And he left it on the ground
! She would have been less offended if she caught him digging in her underwear drawer. A scream of rancor rose in her throat, but before she could let it loose, shock choked her silent.

Syrus stood ten feet away from where her katana lay on the ground. He lifted one arm, pointing it at the sword, all his muscles taut. What looked like ghost ribbons undulated from his fingertips. The ribbons wrapped around the sword and lifted it into the air. The sword hovered at arm height, facing Syrus as though an invisible enemy held it at the ready, beckoning him to fight. Astonishment rendered Forest immobile as she watched her sword swing through the air in a wide arch meant to decapitate Syrus.

He bobbed and danced out of the way. Her sword continued to slash and stab. Then it began to gain momentum, and Syrus drew both of his short swords and began sparing. The clink of metal rang through the air. Forest couldn’t take it any longer. She ran towards him as fast as she could and dove through the air, catching the hilt of her sword in mid flip. She landed flat on her feet and thrust the blade beneath Syrus’ chin. He lowered both his swords and smiled.

Forest could feel the power that had been wrapped around her sword pulling lightly at her hand. “Your file said you were a master of the Kata. Not one word mentioned you were a mage.”

Syrus shrugged, still smiling. “Not many know. Those that do are bound to silence that I’m alive at all.”

“No one in Fortress knows?”

“No.”

“Not even the high council?” She demanded.

“No. So are you impressed?”

Forest huffed. “Yes…Grudgingly.” Reeling from the information that he was a mage, her original outrage returned. “I told you
never
to touch my sword.”

Syrus smacked her blade away from his throat with one of his short swords. They stood facing each other, breathing heavily.

“All of my senses are heightened when I fight. I’m thoroughly warmed up, and you’ve been walking a long ways, if I’m not mistaken. What do you say?”

She was about to ask him what he was talking about when he lifted both his swords and bent his knees into an attack stance. She didn’t move, remembering what Kendel had said about fighting with Syrus. Adrenaline was building inside her, as she looked at him, poised and ready. She had fought and triumphed over many vampires, many skilled in the Kata, but this was a chance she had never had before: to fight a mage.

Forest took a step back and sank into her own attack stance. Syrus was right about his heightened senses. Even though he couldn’t see, she could feel that his physical awareness was greater than her own.

All the sounds surrounding Forest thundered in Syrus’ ears: her breathing, her pulse, the rain falling on her skin. He knew exactly where she was by the heat waves rolling off her body. His senses were turned up so high, it bordered on painful. The only thing that dulled his edge over her was the mental image he had of her. He saw, in his mind’s eye, the way she looked when she was asleep and now pictured that standing in front of him armed with a sword, and he was half crazed with desire.

Syrus was still smiling at her. “Don’t hold back. Forget I’m blind. Try and kill me.”

“Fine, but you have to try and kill me as well.”

“Agreed.
En garde
!”

They began circling each other, and instantly Forest was struck with the thought that her sight was actually a disadvantage. She was distracted by her attraction to him and the admiration that his movements were beautiful in their deadly precision. Blades flashed through the raindrops. The instant their weapons slammed into each other, she knew she had never crossed blades with anyone this deadly. She easily deflected an overhead strike, the blades clanging loudly. He was holding back, testing her level.