Gateway to Fourline (The Fourline Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

The girl looked around the room. She grabbed a glass jar from the center of the lone table and placed it under the worn blanket on the bed. She jumped on the bed, and Nat heard the crunching of glass. She was out the door in the next instant.

Nat followed her. “Wait! Annin, wait!” She chased her back down the plain and scrambled after her up the crumbling rock to the cliff top. The chase continued over the rocks and down the cliff wall. The girl was just a few steps ahead of her when Nat jumped onto the boulder where Annin sat. The girl’s form disappeared into Annin’s.

“What was that? Where is she?” Nat circled the boulder. Annin hopped off and reached for Nat.

“I told you he was a rat.” She grabbed Nat’s elbow. “Field trip’s over. Time to wake up.” Annin and the boulder faded into darkness. Nat stumbled in the pitch-black surroundings.

“Ouch!”

“Nat, what are you doing?” Viv’s sleepy head appeared under the bunk rail.

Nat rubbed her temple and looked around her dorm room. “I hit my head, Viv. Go back to sleep.” She shivered, thinking of the dream and the little girl’s odd eye. She pulled her tangled covers to her chin, knowing tomorrow her journey to Benedict’s house would be real.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rain soaked through Nat’s cloak. It hung heavily over her shoulders as she ran across the plain dotted with yellow flowers. Her feet landed with certainty. The sensation still unnerved her, but she was thankful as she made her way through the darkness and the stinging rain. Icy drops fell from her hood into her eyes. She blinked and thought of the odd send-off she’d had before passing through the membrane.

Everyone had had something to say. Estos had given her a small ruby ring and told her to show it to Benedict. He’d looked so thankful that she couldn’t bring herself to refuse to go, even after he’d deftly evaded her questions. Sisters Barba and Ethet had told her not to speak too much and to act aloof. Riler and Oberfisk had cautioned her to give the woods a wide berth. All Andris had offered was a scowl. The memory of his expression lingered in her mind as she ran through the rain.

She slowed her pace and cut down a steep draw. A rutted clump sent her reeling to the side. Wet yellow flowers stuck to her chin and hands. The rain poured over her eyelids and down her cheeks.
This has to be a dream,
she thought. She opened her eyes. No, still dark and wet and somewhere that shouldn’t even exist. The ground squelched under her hands. Mud covered her fingers and the side of her cloak. A dim light appeared in the distance. She took a deep breath and moved on. Rat or not, she needed to make contact with Benedict.

Nat cautiously approached the house. Water dripped from the pitched roof onto the uneven stone path encircling the house. Shivering, she rounded the back. No sign of anyone other than an old mule asleep in the tilting barn. “How about I just get this over with,” she mumbled to herself. She stepped onto the slippery rock path leading toward the weathered front door. Light shone under a thin crack where a stone slab met the base of the door. Her knock was light, almost inaudible. The door creaked open and light flooded around her. A slight man stood in the doorway, his mouth twisted into a frown. He stepped back, leaving the door wide open. Droplets of rain fell on the stoop. She hesitated. He hadn’t exactly invited her in.

“Well, come in, then,” Benedict said, his words followed by a wheezy cough.

Nat ducked under the low opening. Benedict leaned slightly to the left with each step toward the hearth. His right pant leg hung loosely over his calf. Sparks burst from a broken log when he poked it with a long hooked rod.

“Close the door, Sister. It’s hard keeping the warmth in my bones.”

Nat shut the door. Water dripped from her cloak, forming little puddles around her feet. She unhooked the garment and looked around for a place to hang it.

“Over here.” Benedict pointed to a weathered bench near the hearth. “I don’t have much in the way of accommodations for you, Sister. Your kind rarely stops here. I haven’t seen a Sister in years what with all the, well, I don’t need to tell you, do I?”

Nat nodded and laid her cloak on the bench, doing her best to spread it out in front of the fire. She glanced up and recognized the massive cabinet from her dream. She nervously stepped past the cabinet and perched on the narrow end of the bench.

Benedict lifted a battered copper kettle from the edge of the hearth and hooked it to the curve of a long iron rod hanging over the fire. He limped over to a sagging rush chair next to Nat. She waited, watching him closely as he slowly lowered himself into the chair. She got a better view of his face as he settled in. His nose had an odd curve to it, and Nat wondered how long it had been broken. His hair was a deep chestnut color with a small bald spot in the back.

“I haven’t seen that in a long time.” He leaned forward to get a closer view of her forearm. Nat quickly covered the design Barba had drawn.

“Don’t be offended.” The water in the kettle began to hiss, and Benedict pushed himself out of his chair. “Can’t blame me for being curious. I haven’t seen a Sister from the Warrior House in years. And that”—he gestured to her arm with an empty mug—“I can’t say I’ve ever seen that on a living Sister.” He poured the steaming water into two mugs and moved slowly back to his chair. He handed her one. “Mudug got rid of your Houses and sent you north. Ha! Wouldn’t he be interested to find one wandering on the Meldon Plain.” He eyed her with curiosity.

Nat had to force herself to sit still and not bolt out the front door. She placed the mug on the floor and pulled the small ruby ring from an inner pocket after touching the hilt of her dagger. She remembered Barba’s words to her before she left: “Treat him the way a general would treat a lowly soldier. He is nothing to a Warrior Sister.”

“You have something for me,” she said, her voice artificially low and cold as she held the ring between her thumb and forefinger. The red stone glowed in the firelight.

Benedict gasped. “Where did you get that?” He reached for the ring.

“You received a question in the last two weeks. Do you have an answer for me?” His thin fingers hung in the air as she tucked the ring back in her pocket.

“He’s well?” Benedict watched her for a moment.

“I’m waiting.” She leaned back as he scowled. She kept her face emotionless as she met his unhappy look.

“It’s been a year since I’ve heard anything, and then Sister Barba’s indecipherable handwriting makes its way into my tree. Wanting to know . . .” He stood again, limped to the hearth, and began jabbing the logs with short thrusts of the poker. Sparks flew in all directions. “I assumed it was a hoax. Some plan Mudug or the Chemist conjured up to catch me.” Benedict said the name “Chemist” with vehemence. He poked the logs again and continued, “The answer is they’re all marked. Tell the Sister they are all marked. Estos, Sister Barba, Andris, the lot of them, even that little half-breed. Mudug sits like a spider in Rustbrook, waiting for that Chemist of his to tell him when one of them pops up and shakes the web. He has men stationed throughout the lower valley who can be sent out as soon as the Chemist gives the word. I don’t know where Estos is.” His eyes narrowed. “And I don’t want to know. He needs to stay away. Mudug intends to slaughter him—all of them—before next year. Don’t doubt it.”

Nat stared at Benedict, struggling to keep a calm demeanor. Estos hadn’t exaggerated the danger Mudug posed to him. Her stomach flipped with nerves. “How does this Chemist know where they are?” Her voice trembled.

“I don’t know how he did it, but I think he’s got bits of each of them, and he’s using a modified orb, possibly a calan orb, to signal when they appear in Fourline and where they are.” Benedict made a little circle in the air. Nat listened to every word, but none of it made sense to her.

“Not knowing if the note was real or not, I only worked out two ways to counteract the orbs. Why waste the effort unless one must?” he said apologetically as he put down the poker and opened his palms like a book. He jabbed one palm with an index finger. “If he’s using a calan orb, which I suspect he is, then we can erase its memory with suix stone. Or we can simply destroy the orbs. The suix stone is the better option, because he won’t know they aren’t working until someone slips up and gets spotted, and by then it will be too late.” Benedict rubbed his hands together. “Oh, that would twist him up like he’d eaten a rotten sausage,” he said gleefully as he turned back to the fire.

“Gennes will need to know, he’ll help us. He’s all but given up on Estos. Given him up for dead. He never even believed me that Andris was still alive. The rebels are fighting for an uncertain future without Estos.” His eyes brightened. “But when he sees that ring, he’ll come around. That ring might be just the thing to get Gennes to help us. He has a small illegal suix mine far north of Rustbrook, you know.”

Nat didn’t know but nodded slowly, hoping she appeared wise and knowledgeable. A log fell from the hearth stand.

“Three or four weeks. Get word to Sister Barba, I’ll have a plan worked out in three or four weeks. I’ll expect you back here by then.”

“Me?” she squeaked. Wise and knowledgeable went by the wayside.

“You, of course. Didn’t you hear me telling you they’ll be killed if they come out of hiding now? Destroying the tracking orbs is the only chance for Estos to safely join the rebellion. Now is the time for him to reappear, to prepare for next year. There’s much work to be done to expose Mudug and undercut his operations before it’s too late.” He frowned.

She glared at Benedict, hoping she looked offended. Silence and angry looks seemed a better path than apparent ignorance. Her head spun with concern for Estos and everything that didn’t make sense. Her glare must have worked, because Benedict’s expression softened.

She stood and draped her surprisingly dry cloak around her shoulders.

“My apologies, Sister. I didn’t mean to offend you. Three or four weeks, then?” Benedict’s voice held a conciliatory tone as he limped behind her toward the door.

She placed her hand on the iron latch. Would she come back and go through this insanity again?

“I can’t do this on my own, Sister. You know as well as I what Estos’ return means,” he said with a quiet intensity.

“Four weeks.” She pushed down on the worn latch. The memory of young Annin fleeing through the door flashed through her mind. She glanced quickly toward the cabinet, wondering if someone—something—was in there.

“Stay clear of the forest. The Nala have worked their way far out of their territory since your kind left. The rain may keep them down tonight, but I wouldn’t chance it. But why am I telling you this? No one speaks of the Rim Accord these days, but I can’t imagine a Nala would take on a Warrior Sister, especially one from your House. Travel free, Sister, travel free.” He wheezed as he pushed the door shut, leaving her in the darkness with the rain pouring over her.

Nat wasted little time. She ran across the meadow into the night. Replaying the conversation in her mind, she tried to make heads or tails of what he’d said. The forest loomed like a dark sentinel off to the right. She veered away from the trees and cut through the meadow toward the cliff. Her feet sloshed against the wet ground. The map was still in her head, but her body was tired and wasn’t moving as fast and as sure as before.

After what seemed like hours of running, the ground transformed from a soggy mess to a slick, rocky nightmare. Chunks of rock replaced the tall grass. Her thighs burned as she climbed the hill. The dark outline of the cliff loomed in front of her. The rain had not let up and was now pouring down as she tried to scramble up the slag. One foot caught on a rock, bringing her hand down hard on a jagged edge as she tried to break her fall. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Just get to the top,
she thought. The black gaping mouth of a small cave materialized above her. Standing, she slowly crisscrossed up the slag toward it. The rain and wind whipped her cloak back when she reached the top. She stumbled forward and crawled into an oval-shaped space not more than a few feet deep. The water came down off the rock in sheets, but the small cave was dry and offered a little protection from the wind. She wrapped her throbbing hand in a loose tie from her cloak and closed her eyes.
I’ll just rest for a few minutes,
she thought. Annin’s parting words echoed in her mind: “If you sleep, set up your barrier.”

Every inch of her skin was cold when she awoke. Her muscles protested each movement as she slowly uncurled her body and stretched. She peered out the entrance of the small cave. Water droplets glistened on treetops clustered to the left. She squinted at the sun and wondered how long she’d slept. She carefully crawled out of the entrance, protecting her still-aching hand as much as possible.

A beautiful field covered in yellow flowers spread out below the base of the cliff and to the right of the forest edge. Wrapping her hand again tightly, she took one last look at the blanket of flowers below her and scrambled up the next level of rocks. They would be wondering where she was. She methodically moved her hands and feet over the cliff’s uneven surface. Would Estos be worried about her? Benedict had warned her about something called the Nala. Why hadn’t Estos mentioned them? Were they Mudug’s soldiers? She jumped awkwardly down a boulder and jogged a few steps to warm up her stiff muscles.

A yellow-throated bird let out a warble that sounded like jumping octaves on a piano. A reply came from the distance. Nat paused a moment and watched the bird tilt its head and fly in the direction of the reply. She looked over the treetops. A faint memory of them shaking tickled the back of her mind. Tree branches brushed against the cliff. She picked up her pace and saw where she would start to descend the cliff face in the distance. She played Benedict’s warning over in her mind: “They’ll be killed if they come out of hiding now. Destroying the tracking orbs is the only chance . . .” Was she really Estos’ only option for a safe return? Estos, and now Benedict, were both clear about Mudug’s deadly intentions. She shuddered.

The bird sent another octave call. The memory of the shaking treetop nagged at her. Had it been in a dream? She pushed the thought aside and tried to focus on what to tell the others. If she told them everything, they would want her to come back. It was one thing to come to this crazy place for a few hours or a day, but what Benedict had described last night was more like days or even weeks. What was the point of doing this for Estos or even money to pay for school if something happened to her?

Nat jumped over a few more rocks. In three weeks it would be the middle of Christmas break. What if she did agree to come back? Other than a few scrapes and a swollen hand, nothing bad had happened to her here. She looked out from her vantage point on the cliff. The forest and distant fields of the foreign world spread out before her with vibrant colors warming in the morning sun. What amazing species and plants could she discover in this world? She carefully slid over the jutting rock and began working her way from toehold to handhold down the face of the cliff.

She tightened her grip, leaned back, and looked down until she could see the top of the boulder where Annin and Estos had waited for her.
Not too far away,
she thought. Her feet slid down the rock chute, and she jammed her fingers into the shallow crevices. Her breath made a little puff of steam in the cold air. She pulled her cloak to the side so she could see below herself as she descended. A loose rock skittered down the chute when the hilt of her dagger scraped against the side. She dropped the remaining few feet to the forest floor.