Rise of Keitus (22 page)

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Authors: Andrea Pearson

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #MG Fantasy

BOOK: Rise of Keitus
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The room was empty by the time Dmitri and Kelson finally returned. Kelson spoke first. “There’s a man who used to attend the meetings but hasn’t come the past couple of times. This happens frequently—we lose members as often as we find them.”

Dmitri nodded. “We’ll be having the three of you visit him. Find out what’s going on. And it could be anything: sickness, death, turning traitor, dropping out because of fear.” He handed Jacob a note with directions to the man’s place. “Go now. Return with what you’ve learned. Kelson and I will be visiting others and will meet you here in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Jacob said. He and the other two left the room and hurried down the long hall.

“Our first mission!” Matt said. “Exciting.”

“No,” Jacob said. “I’m sure they know what’s going on with the man.”

Aloren shook her head. “I don’t agree—Matt’s right. This is our first mission. They wouldn’t have us do something unless it really would prove our loyalty. They’re obviously stretched thin.”

Jacob studied the map as they walked. “Great. The guy lives in Bird.” He grimaced. This task would be almost impossible.

“Why’s that bad?” Matt asked.

“Bird is one of the worst areas here. Dad told me to avoid it. It’s bordered by Cat and Mouse on one side—both dangerous—and fields and rivers on the other. Only a small part of it touches a safer area, but it’s not enough to keep Bird from being the most dangerous place in this town.”

“Why would they have us go there?” Aloren asked. “Are they trying to get us killed?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Jacob led the others up the stairs at the end of the hall. “This really is a test of our loyalty.”

 

 

Chapter Fourteen: A Green Cloak

 

They followed the road that led between Cat and Mouse toward Bird. Things were bad in the first two areas—everyone was miserable, grouchy, touchy, and both areas stank really badly—but even Matt and Aloren could sense the difference in Bird. They locked arms, doing their best not to get separated.

Jacob kept his eyes down for many reasons—not only did he want to avoid meeting the gaze of the people, but apparently, most felt like clothing was optional. Either that or they couldn’t afford much. It was embarrassing, and he really wished Aloren didn’t have to be there.

It took an hour to get to the man’s house. By the time they arrived, the only thing Jacob wanted was a shower. He’d been grabbed, jostled, rubbed against, and leered at by the creepiest, dirtiest people he’d ever seen.

The man’s house was run-down and disgusting. This didn’t surprise Jacob. He stood on the porch and knocked hesitantly on the broken front door. He couldn’t tell if it was a single-family dwelling or a place for multiple people.

No one answered, so Jacob took a step inside. Clothing and rotten food lay strewn across the mud floor. It smelled so strongly of sewage, he almost dry heaved.

Someone wailed from the back of the house, and Jacob and the others followed the sound. A woman was huddled on the floor, bawling. Aloren rushed forward.

“Rora!” Jacob said. “No, stop!”

Aloren rolled her eyes and dropped to her knees by the woman, putting her arms around the lady’s frail shoulders.

“What is it?” Aloren asked.

“My . . . my husband!”

Aloren looked up at Jacob. “What’s the name of the guy we’re searching for?”

Jacob looked at the paper. “Liston.”

The woman started. “Have you heard from him? Where is he?”

Jacob shook his head. “No, we came to find him.”

She fell forward, putting her face on the dirt floor. “Oh, Liston, my Liston.”

Aloren rubbed the woman’s back. “Tell us what happened.”

“He left to find food two days ago. He hasn’t come back.” She raised her head, her eyes filling with a fresh batch of tears. “The baby died an hour ago.”

Jacob then noticed that the lady was holding a wad of fabric in her arms. He turned away, not wanting to see what was in it.

“I’ve two other children. Why didn’t Liston focus on his family? Always so intent on helping that prince!”

Aloren looked up at Jacob. “What do we do?”

“We’ve got to find out what happened to him.” Jacob knelt in front of her. “Where did he go?”

It took a while for her to respond. Her eyes glassed over for a moment and she rocked back and forth, holding the baby to her chest. “He left to find food,” she said. “In the fields. If that didn’t work, he was going to Gevkan.”

“What does he look like?” Matt asked. “We want to help find him.”

“Tall. Brown hair, brown eyes.”

Jacob nodded. She’d just described pretty much every man in Troosinal. “What was he wearing?”

“Always his green cloak with red patches. I tried to fix it best I could. He loved his cloak so much.”

“Is there anything else that would help us recognize him?” Aloren asked.

“A red spot on his neck—since his birth. About the size of a gold coin.”

Gold coins in Troosinal were as big as nickels back home. That should be enough to go by. Jacob helped Aloren to her feet. “We’ll be back as soon as we find out what happened to your husband.”

The woman thanked them—surprising Jacob—and they left her house. Jacob pulled out his map. “The fields are this way.” He pointed. “I’m guessing if we follow the main roads, we’ll get there.”

They started walking, their pace faster now than earlier. The sun had set and the streets were clearing—not as many people to brush up against—but that made Jacob even more nervous. It meant the place was getting more dangerous.

They’d been walking for twenty minutes when Aloren paused. “Dmitri said for us to return in a few hours. We can’t walk all the way to Gevkan to find this man—that’ll take forever. Jacob, how about you just Key—”

“Not out here. And don’t bring it up in public—we have to be cautious. We really don’t know who we can trust or who will turn us over to the king. He’s too dangerous to mess around with, and we can’t afford to have any snags.”

Matt sighed. “I just wish Dmitri and Kelson would trust us already. I mean, come on. It’s pretty obvious we aren’t spies.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Yes, obvious. A spy would
never
talk about these sorts of things out in the open.” He stopped and faced them. “Listen to me. You
have
to take this seriously, starting now. Otherwise I’ll take you home. No more talking about them in public—or anything else important—especially by name!”

Aloren gave a half smile. “Okay, but Ja—Thojac, honestly. We can’t do anything that would majorly alter the outcome of events.”

“I know, but we also can’t afford to jump back and forth between Mendon and Troosinal, which is what’ll happen if we do something wrong. And my heart can’t handle that or the constant pressure on it when we get close to making mistakes.”

Matt grabbed Jacob’s arm and pointed. “Look.”

A man was lying on the side of the street. He was partially covered in a green cloak with red patches.

Aloren gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Liston.”

“We have to verify.” Jacob approached, watching the man, hoping he wouldn’t suddenly jump up. A dried puddle of blood was on the ground around him, and he stank. “He’s dead.” Jacob leaned over and looked at the guy’s neck without touching him. “And there’s the red mark. It’s him.”

“That’s awful!” Aloren said. “What do we tell his wife? How will she know we found him and we’re not lying?”

Matt joined Jacob. “We can bring back the cloak.”

Aloren snorted. “If you can get it off him without touching the blood.”

Jacob noticed Aloren’s use of “you.” And he didn’t blame her—she shouldn’t have to do the gross work. Not while Jacob and Matt were around, at least.

“No problem.” Matt got out his knife and crouched. He cut the strings around the man’s neck, freeing the cloak, which he then carefully lifted and inspected. “Wow. This stinks really bad. Like he’s never washed it.”

“Probably hasn’t,” Jacob said.

Matt rolled up the fabric so any dirty parts were inside. “Let’s go.”

Jacob pulled the map out of his pocket, wanting to make sure he knew the fastest way back to the woman’s house. While he was studying it, however, an inkling of a feeling entered his gut, telling him to take the long way. He frowned. The long way? That sounded like a stupid idea. It would force them to remain in the dangerous area longer than he’d like to be there.

He put away the feeling and the map, leading Matt and Aloren back the way they’d come. The most important thing was to complete their task and get back to Dmitri and Kelson as soon as possible. Too much time had already passed.

A brief sensation of guilt crossed him, however, as he walked down the road. Was that feeling a warning? And how could he know for sure?

The last time he’d ignored an impression had been when he and Matt went to Maivoryl City to rescue Aloren. And the outcome of that decision? They’d been attacked by men far more advanced and skilled, Matt had ended up with a broken leg, and Jacob with severe burns. Not only that, but they were
not
successful in getting Aloren.

Jacob had learned a lot from that experience. But this was different—last time, he’d been
told
not to do something like that. He was pretty sure his instructions now would be to hurry, take the fastest route, and avoid the smaller streets. But how would he know? Was he being paranoid? And for that matter, should he follow every “bad” feeling he got, even if it was just fear speaking? Or would that turn him into a superstitious, jumpy person who freaked out at everything?

Jacob shook his head at himself. He was arguing in circles. The best thing he could do was to make a decision and stick to it. And he’d already decided to continue onward.

But the feeling of dread didn’t leave.

Suddenly, Matt grabbed his arm. “Look,” he whispered, pointing.

Up ahead, several men on horseback were heading their way. The people on the streets started moaning and murmuring, lowering their heads, gathering in the middle of the road.

The feeling of warning hit Jacob once more. It wasn’t nearly as strong—almost like an afterthought—but it was there nonetheless.

Realizing it might be too late to obey, Jacob threw aside his earlier confusion and decided to act like it
had
been a true warning. He pulled Matt and Aloren to the side of the road.

“What’s going on?” Aloren asked.

Jacob shushed her, entering an alley as the horsemen, dressed in the uniforms of the castle, neared. Jacob’s heart beat hard in his chest—he was surprised the others didn’t hear it. The first door he tried opened and he stepped inside, dragging Matt and Aloren with him.

He put his finger to his lips and waved at them to follow. It was darker inside, but he was still able to see that they’d entered some sort of butcher’s shop. The overwhelming smell of decaying meat flooded his senses, and he pulled his shirt up over his nose.

Matt quickly figured things out. “Let’s go to the second floor.”

Jacob nodded and the three of them tip-toed up the staircase near the door, entering a room at the top.

A soft gasp welcomed them.

“Get down!” a man said from a corner near a window. “They’ll see you.”

Jacob and his friends dropped to their hands and knees.

A woman shrank at the man’s side, staring at Jacob and his friends. The yellow in the air around her was bright—she was very afraid.

“What are the soldiers doing?” Jacob asked.

“Making their usual rounds. Searching for ‘volunteers.’”

Jacob scurried across the floor, joining the man at the window. He peeked over the sill. “They do this often?”

The man stared at Jacob for a moment. “Not from around here?”

Jacob shook his head.

“Every couple of weeks, they come by. If you resist, they kill you.” He gazed down at the soldiers. “Be quiet. It’s about to begin.”

Jacob didn’t have to wait long to understand what the man meant. The soldiers watched as a cart pulled by horses neared, then they turned to one of the men who obviously was in charge. This man called out, “Citizens, come forth.”

The people huddled together, only approaching by a couple of feet. The captain didn’t seem to notice their lack of enthusiasm. He pulled out and unrolled a piece of parchment, then started reading.

“By order of the king, eight volunteers will be needed for his services this evening. First, four people between the ages of twelve and eighteen—”

Jacob met eyes with Aloren and Matt, grateful they were upstairs and that he’d heeded the warning.

“Next, an adult woman. Third, an infant, not older than six months. Last, two adult men. No more, no less. We’ll allow you two minutes to decide who shall volunteer.”

The people began murmuring again, and Jacob watched with disgusted interest to see how it all would pan out. Arguments started and shouts echoed between the wooden buildings. Jacob couldn’t hear anything that was said, but it was obvious people were volunteering each other.

Then the soldiers got tired of waiting. Still on horseback, they entered the throng, swords out, hitting people with the flat side of their blades. Jacob winced when the captain hit a woman who held an infant. She dropped to the ground, and he yelled at another villager to pick up and give him the baby.

So horrible! Jacob was about to turn away when the butcher jumped to the window.

“Hello?” he called to the people below. “I’ve got three teenagers here with me. Come get them—they volunteer.”

Four soldiers who’d paused underneath the window looked up and leered at Jacob, then rushed around the corner, disappearing from sight.

Jacob jumped to his feet. “What are you doing?”

The man shrugged, the colors in the air around him showing indifference but also relief. “You fit their requirements. I’m just glad it’s not me and my wife.”

Jacob and Matt sprang into action. Matt attacked the guy, and Jacob started searching for a hiding place or a way out that wasn’t the same as the way in.

But loud boots stomped up the stairs, and the four soldiers rushed into the room. One of the soldiers grinned. “Wonderful. King Ramantus will be pleased.” He pointed to Matt and Jacob. “Get them. I’ll take the girl.”

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