The Assassin's Curse (24 page)

  I toyed with the hem of my shirt and looked down at the sand. My head felt thick with what he had just told me. Maybe he didn't have to die for us to get sucked into the island's magic.

  "Maybe we can find the wizard the untouched way." Not that I liked the idea of wandering the island.

  "I doubt we'll be able to find him just by searching."

  "Ain't that big of an island."

  Naji glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and even with just that tiny look I caught a glimpse of the weariness and the hurt I'd caused him as I had traipsed alone through the woods. "The size of the island isn't the issue," he said. "I doubt very seriously the Wizard Eirnin will be easily found. Most wizards aren't. Not unless you know where to look."

  I didn't have no answer to that.

  "I might be able to conjure up a fire tomorrow," he said. "A small one."

  "Maybe you should focus on getting better first."

  "Perhaps you should show me the spring. You are correct that we'll need water to survive." He sighed. "We can look for food and shelter tomorrow."

  "I can look for it to–"

  "No." The word sliced through the air, left me colder than any rain ever could. "No. Once was enough."

  I didn't need to ask him what he meant.

  "I'm sorry," I said softly.

  Naji pushed himself to his feet, and I noticed that he was shaking. If it was because of the cold or because of the way he wore himself out or because he was as scared as me, I couldn't say. But I didn't say nothing about him not being able to make it. I didn't say nothing about the spell he cast onboard the Ayel's Revenge.

  We walked side by side as I led him through the woods.

 
 
 

That night I made a little tent out of fern fronds and fallen sticks not far from the spring, and I fell asleep to the gurgle of water and the glow of Naji's tattoos as he started healing himself. It was weird sleeping so close to him, and at first I lay on my back and looked up at the pattern of shadows created by the ferns, my hands folded over my stomach so I wouldn't accidentally touch him.

  I woke up the next morning covered in ferns and rainwater. The tent had collapsed in the night, probably cause of some storm, and Naji was curled up on his side, his tattoos dull and flat against his skin. I pushed the ferns away and peeled off my soaked-through coat and shivered in the cool, damp air. The spring bubbled and churned a few feet away. Naji didn't move.

  I shook his shoulder. He moaned and fluttered his eyes.

  "Naji?" I asked. "Are you alright?"

  He rolled onto his back, shedding a cascade of fern fronds and rain drops.

  "Ananna?" he asked. "Where are we?"

  "Kaol! You really don't know?" Anger rose up in me and turned to panic. I pressed my hand to his forehead. His skin was hot. "I think you have a fever."

  He closed his eyes. I lay my ear against his chest to listen for the rattle of the northern sickness, but his breathing was steady and even.

  "Need to rest," he murmured.

  "Naji!" I shook him again. He stirred but didn't respond. At least his chest was rising and falling, and his tattoos had taken to glowing again. I stood up and paced back and forth in front of the spring. If he was sick, he needed warmth and shelter. And I didn't much like the idea of us staying in the woods, neither.

  So I stole his sword and took off for the beach. The chiming forest was rioting in the pale morning, the trees throwing off glints of light, everything sounding like temple bells after a wedding. I picked my way through those narrow trunks, leaves drifting through the air. They stuck to my skin, and when I tried to wipe them away they shattered and smeared like the spun-sugar figures in a fancy Lisirran bakery.

  Still, I made it to the shoreline easy enough. The sand dropped off toward the sea, which churned below the island, frothy and roiling with the wind. I rubbed at my arms to try and take out some of the chill; it didn't work, and so I put my coat back on even though it was still wet. I didn't know which direction to go, which direction would lead me to shelter. All the damn trees looked the same, and the clouds covered up the sun.

  I shouldn't have left him at the spring.

  But if I'd stayed behind, what could I have done then? Watch him burn up with a fever? Watch him sink into the soil and become part of the Isles?

  No. I had to do something.

  I trekked along the sand, gathering up the largest pieces of driftwood I could find and stacking them together close to the treeline. The beach felt safer; it was out in the open, which meant it was easier to spot any creatures that might come our way. But I wasn't sure if the tides came in here, and I didn't much want to risk it.

  Once I had the driftwood gathered I ventured into the fringe of the woods. I didn't want to bother with fern leaves again, but there really wasn't much I could use in the way of shelter-building. I pulled the sword out of its scabbard and crept deeper into the forest. Here, the light turned a syrupy golden color I didn't trust one bit. Ain't no way the northern sun could give out light like that. But there was a certain type of tree in this part of the woods, one that I hadn't seen before, with trunks covered in a chalky pale white bark that peeled off in long wide strips. I didn't trust it, but sometimes you gotta trust the thing you don't want to.

  Course, following that particular bit of Papa's advice was what got me in my current predicament in the first place. I guess it came down to a matter of choices. And I didn't have much of any at the moment.

  I stacked the driftwood up into a lean-to against one of the pine trees – those at least I recognized from the ice-islands. Then I wove the tree bark into a sort of roof, which I tied to the driftwood using some twists of old vine.

  When I finished, I took a step back and admired my work. I almost forgot where I was. I almost convinced myself I was just on the ice-islands, having the sort of adventure I used to dream about.

  But then a wind blew in from the forest, and it smelled like musty damp and magic. I had my sword out before my brain could even figure out if I was in danger or not.

  The beach stayed as empty and desolate as always.

  I crawled into the lean-to and peered out the opening and through the cracks in the branches I'd left in so we could keep look out. I figured there should be enough room for me and Naji to both stretch out and sleep, and it was high enough that when I was sitting down I could reach up and my fingers would just barely graze the underside of the tree bark ceiling.

  Since I'd managed to take care of our shelter problem for the time being, I figured I should look into food. The truth was I didn't trust anything on this island enough to eat it. Even if the water had turned out fine.

  But my stomach was grumbling and I figured Naji was gonna need food if there was any hope of him getting better. So as I picked my way through the forest, back to the spring, I watched for any edible plant that I might recognize from the ice-islands. I didn't find nothing.

  When I came to the spring, the ferns were scattered across the ground, and Naji was gone.

  All thoughts of food flew out of my head. I had my sword out, my body tense and alert, and I stalked around the spring, stepping as careful as I could.

  "Ananna?"

  I froze, and then turned around slow and careful. Naji was leaning up against a tree, holding his shirt up like a basket.

  "You left," he said. "And you took my sword."

  I let the sword drop. "I thought you were dying. And we needed shelter. Real shelter, not leaves." I kicked at the ferns.

  "I'm not dying. But the healing is taking a long time." He stumbled forward and I noticed his hands were shaking.

  "Should you be wandering around the woods, then?"

  "Probably not. But I was hungry." He knelt down in the remains of our tent and flattened out his shirt. A handful of dark red berries and little brown nuts spilled across the ground.

  "I know these are safe to eat," he said. "They grow in the ice-islands, too."

  I scowled, irritated that he'd been able to find something when I couldn't.

  "Have some," he said. "I can show you where to collect more."

  I picked up one of the berries and sniffed: It smelled sweet as rainwater. I was too hungry to be cautious. I tossed it into my mouth.

  Best berry I'd ever tasted. After that first one didn't kill me, I took to shoving the rest of the pile into my mouth. It wasn't enough to satisfy me, but it took the pang away. When I finished, Naji was staring at me.

  "I'm glad I ate some on the way back."

  "Sorry."

  His eyes brightened a little, and seeing it made me feel weirdly happy even though I was surrounded by gloom and magic.

  "I made a lean-to," I said.

  "Ah, so that's where you disappeared off to."

  "I guess it didn't hurt you too bad."

  Naji shrugged. "It wasn't as bad as yesterday, no."

  "Well, I figured we needed shelter. And fire, too, although I don't know if I'll be able to start one in all this damp." I stood up and rubbed at my arms, trying to work out the chill. "Do you want me to show you? I don't… I don't much like staying in the woods."

  Naji tilted his head a little and looked at me like he wanted to say something. But he only nodded.

  It was slow going back to the beach. Naji stumbled over the underbrush and kept getting caught up in the woody vines that draped off the trees. Although he let me carry the sword, I was on edge the whole time, waiting for something to come creeping out of the shadows. It didn't help that every now and then I'd hear these weird chiming animal calls off in the distance, and the wind had a quality to it that sounded like a woman's whisper. At one point, Naji slumped against a tree, his forehead beaded with sweat. I only just caught him before he collapsed.

  "Not safe," he whispered. His face twisted up and he pressed his hand into his forehead. "Not safe. For you."

  "What's not safe? The woods?"

  He cried out in pain and groped around my shoulders. His fingers were clammy and cold. I peeled the collar of my shirt away. The charm he made me was still there.

  "Thank the darkness," he whispered, and he slumped up against me, as if all the air had been let out of him. "I'm sorry I can't protect you better."

  The forest was rustling around us, dropping down feathery green leaves, and my breath was coming out fast and short. I knew we couldn't stay here – knew I couldn't stay here. But I wasn't leaving Naji behind.

  "Here," I said, shoving the sword at him. "To protect me with."

  His fingers fluttered around the handle. He straightened up a little, and his face no longer seemed so drawn and haggard. Stupid curse. It ain't like I don't know how to use a sword.

  "Let's run," I said. "To keep me safe."

  He stared at me like he didn't understand. But then he said, "Yes, I think that might work."

  So we ran.

  I ran faster than him, flying over the ferns and fallen tree trunks, but he kept up better than I might have expected, and I guess the running really did count as a way of keeping me safe. We burst out of the forest and the sea wind didn't carry the same cold whispers as the forest wind. I collapsed on the sand, panting, my stomach cramping up from the berries I'd eaten.

  Naji knelt down beside me and took a long, deep breath. "Thank you," he said. "I couldn't think straight."

  "Yeah, you looked pretty rough." I sat up and twisted around so I was facing the forest. I didn't like having it out of my sight. "You want to see the lean-to?"

  I stood up and helped him to his feet, cause he was shaking and trembling like an old man. The lean-to wasn't far; I could see it crouched next to the treeline like an ugly gray toad.

  "Ain't much, I know," I said. "But hopefully it's sturdier in a rainstorm. I bet it can last us till we find the wizard." I tried to sound sure, cause I figured it wasn't too fair to burden Naji right now. But inside I was afraid we'd never find the wizard at all.

  I helped Naji crawl into the lean-to. He stretched out on his back and closed his eyes. I hardly had a chance to ask him how he was doing before his chest started rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep.

  I took the sword off him and crawled back out onto the beach. I didn't want go too far – I certainly didn't want to go into the woods. We did need a fire, though. Papa had shown me how to start fires back when I was a little girl, since Mama couldn't start 'em with magic on account of her being a water witch. I figured it was safe to burn the wood since nothing had happened with the first fire, plus I'd already built a lean-to out of it, and I'd drunk the island's water and ate its berries without any trouble. And I was shivering so hard, too. This time it wasn't just 'cause of the fear.

  I wandered down the beach looking for driftwood I hadn't already gathered up for the lean-to. When I got my courage up, I'd dart into the woods and pluck some dead, fallen branches off the ground. Never went in more than a few feet, though. Never went into the dappled shadows.

  Stones were easier to come across. They were scattered across the beach in big piles, like someone had come through and set them that way as a message to the gods or to the spirits of the Isles. Part of me hoped it was the Wizard Eirnin, that maybe I'd stumble across him and we wouldn't have to wait for Naji to heal himself. But I never saw anybody. No animals, no birds, no wizards.

  The lean-to was glowing when I came back, intense pale blue, a color that made me feel colder just looking at it. I checked in on Naji and the light from his tattoos seemed to overpower his whole body.

  Maybe he'd heal quicker than he thought.