The Marked Son (Keepers of Life) (22 page)

I can’t say I’m fond of my new host’s attitude. “How do you know what I am?”

He grunts like it’s obvious. Then I remember he can hear what goes on above ground, and I feel stupid. “Did no one tell you eavesdropping’s rude?”

Turning away he mutters, “Destruction and chaos.”

It’s not like I wanted to shake the house off its foundation. I was pushed into it. Besides, this place doesn’t look like it’s ever been cleaned. I sit, finding my knees nearly level with my ears. Uncomfortable doesn’t even begin to explain my position. I scoot my legs out, dig my elbows into my thighs, and rub my hands through my hair, scrubbing away the tension that fills me. All I want is to be with Kera. Why is that so difficult?

My host, who’s busily tending to his piles, is ignoring me, but I need to talk. “I’m in love with Kera.”

He grunts and pushes his way deeper into a pile of junk.

“She’s in love with me.”

He grunts again and pulls out an old shirt so disgustingly dirty, a small cloud of odor billows from it when he drops it to the ground.

I wave the smell out of my face. “Lived here long?”

“Faldon rescued me. Brought me here, and here I stay.”

“Rescued you from what?”

He stops for a moment as if lost in memory. “The king’s court.” He disappears into the pile.

That answers my first question. Obviously, the
firsts
are in charge. All other species, including dwarves and dragons, are beneath them. And in Bodog’s case, literally. This guy might be able to answer more questions than I first thought. He pops back into view holding a cockroach, and tosses it, hissing and squirming, into his mouth. Crunching away, he returns to his scrounging, or maybe
foraging
is more accurate? I can only hope he doesn’t want me to join him.

“What do you know about Kera’s betrothed?”

“Bad man. Very bad.”

My senses sharpen. That’s at odds with what Faldon told me. “What do you mean?”

“Navar has one goal. To be king of the
firsts
.”

Ambition isn’t one of my strong qualities. Presently, I aspire to graduate high school. Being king is beyond my scope, and frankly, I don’t care. “Yeah, but he loves Kera, right?”

The dwarf’s ears twitch. He pulls a big rock from a nearby pile, and without warning, flings it onto the table. It shakes the boards and rolls to a stop in front of me. Usually, when kids start picking up rocks and looking around for a target, I hightail it out of there, but since Bodog is such a little guy and I’m not, and he isn’t reaching for another rock, I take it he wants me to look at it. I pick it up. Cold, hard, and dull, it lays heavy in my hand. I wait expectantly for its meaning.

The dwarf frowns at the rock. “Granite. Navar’s heart is hard and dense. No light can penetrate. No love.”

My grip tightens on the rock. “But Faldon thinks if Navar finds out about Kera being a halfling, he’ll protect her.”

A deep rumble crawls from Bodog’s throat. He charges forward and grabs a pickax. I hurl the rock, lose my balance, and tumble off my seat. His big paw of a hand bats away the rock; his wiry muscles swing back the ax. I duck, my hands protecting my head. But instead of attacking, he heaves the weapon at the wall behind me. With a loud ping of metal hitting stone, a tumble of rocks cascade to the floor. Dust fills the air.

I straighten, chest heaving and coughing. “Are you insane? What was that all about?”

When the dust settles, Bodog goes to the new pile of rubble and pushes aside the rocks. He motions me to him. I hesitate. This little guy isn’t as harmless as I originally thought. He motions again, and though I’m probably stupid for doing so, I get up and peer down to where he points. There, beneath the rocks, he reveals what remains of a cluster of mushrooms. Pulverized into mush.

His large eyes hold a hint of sadness. “Rocks crush.”

I swallow hard and stare at what he’s done. The imagery of Kera crushed by Navar is frightening. Who should I believe? Faldon or Bodog? I glance back at the dwarf, whose eyes haven’t left me, as if he’s trying to relay whatever it is he can’t put into words, and an epiphany strikes. Faldon is a good man, but Bodog, with his keen sight and ever twitching ears? Nothing gets by him. “Faldon really is living in a fantasy world, thinking everything’s going to turn out fine, isn’t he?”

Bodog nods. “He sees good in all things. Has made choices he should not.”

Obviously. The guy’s got a living fire starter for a pet, and allows a dwarf to undermine the foundation of his home.

“Not you.” I look at his papery dry face, and into his clear eyes. “You see what’s really there, don’t you? You listen to the stories, but hear the truth.”

Bodog nods again. “Navar cuts down that which does not bend.”

Kera and I are about to defy a man who doesn’t like the word no. My heart drops. This changes everything. Navar has got to go. I’m not sure how to make that happen, but I know I’ll need back up. “Do you have paper and a something to write with?”

I can hardly wait as he finds me what I need. With a shaking hand, I scribble a quick note to Kera.

I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back soon. I promise.

Love you.

Dylan

I fold it, then hold it out to Bodog. “I need to get this to Kera. I don’t want her to worry.”

His thick fingers take the note, and he places it in his tunic.

“Is there another way out of here?”

Within seconds, Bodog plops a heavy clump of paper onto the table and unfolds it, revealing a rough schematic of his underground home. Tunnels stretch in all directions like a hungry spider stretching toward its kill, but the leg of tunnels I’m interested in is the one headed in the direction of the barrier and home.

I point to the tunnel. “Is this one good? Does it have an opening?”

“Small.” He gives me a quick measure. “You won’t fit.”

“Let me worry about that.”

Poisoned by Greed

The bright sunlight broke through the windows and scattered the darkness within the manor house. Her father had returned long before. If she hurried, she could find him and relate what she knew about the wall and Navar and Dylan.

After the power Dylan had shown her, she knew without a doubt he was the answer to their problem. He was special. Even Faldon sensed it, although grudgingly. She would make her father see there was another option for her. For Teag.

Kera rounded the corner off of the kitchen hallway and came face to face with Navar. His eyes cut into her. “Returning from another walk? Alone?”

Should she lie? There was no need, at least, there didn’t seem to be one. “Yes.”

“How is it you slip away so easily?”

“What do you mean?” Let him think she had no idea his men were ordered to follow her.

His hand touched her arm, and it was all she could do not to pull away. “I searched for you,” he said gently. “Where do you go?”

“Wherever my feet lead.”

“Into the forest?”

Kera nodded and stepped back, searching for an acceptable excuse to move on.

“I’m concerned for your welfare. There are creatures in the forest that are far from friendly. Murderous, even.”

“I am aware of that.” And Navar was one of the deadliest she’d seen. She couldn’t reveal her true thoughts, so she tilted her head and glanced up at him. “But thanks to you, we live in a peaceful time, and I can enjoy my walks.”

“Flattery from you? It’s my lucky day.” His touch suddenly grew rough. His hands fell onto her, searching. When he pulled away, he had the
incordium
dagger. “You’re full of unexpected surprises.”

She made a grab for the dagger. “You have no right to take that.”

His grip tightened painfully. “I have every right. Faldon is a fool instilling a false sense of security in you. From now on, you will stay close to the manor.”

She struggled to free herself from his hand, but failed. “I’m not yet your wife.”

The sound of her father’s and Faldon’s voices echoed in the hall. Navar smiled and let her go as quickly as he had grabbed her. She rushed to the stairs.

“I have business to attend to,” Navar called after her, “but never fear, I’ll be back well before the festivities begin. Tonight’s a new beginning for the both of us.”

She stopped, but didn’t look back. “Yes. A new beginning.” The thought made her stomach clench.

Outside her room, two men stood guard. She stared, daring them to look at her. Neither did. Her father approached, his face a stern mask of reproof. Must she listen to him lecture her about Navar? He opened the door for her, and as soon as he closed the door, she snapped.

“Your choice of husband is such a gift. What woman does not pine to be a prisoner in her own home?”

“I thought him the best solution. Have you a better one?”

She wanted to say, “Yes, far better than the monster we’re about to collude with,” but the less he knew, the better. “Have you not wondered what he’ll do once he discovers my secret? You can’t share your powers with me forever.”

“He’ll know your value by then.”

Navar was a man who saw no value in anyone but himself. She had always known that. Surely her father had noticed by now.

At her icy silence, he sighed. “I’m sorry.” Her father cupped the back of his neck as if the weight of the world rested there. “Navar listens to no one. When I returned and he learned you had slipped away, he flew into a rage the likes I’ve never seen. He no longer hides his true nature.”

“He never did. You chose to ignore what was before you.”

“I knew about his faults, but not his true heart. He’s filled with a greed he can’t quench.”

Her demeanor grew wary. “What do you mean?”

“At your wedding, he will demand a tribute from every lord.”

“A gift isn’t uncom—”

“This is no gift. It’s a demand for money or a life. If the tribute can’t be paid, and trust me, there are few who can pay Navar’s demand, the nobles will be forced to hand over someone from their own families.”

“Noble slaves? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It does, Kera. He’ll demand an unbreakable oath. It’s his way of binding the nobles to him.”

Her breath froze in her lungs. “He can’t do that. The council won’t allow it.”

Her father moved to the window, and the tension in his body heated his cheeks. He looked feverish, completely unlike the man who was always in control. “There’s something you need to know. When the council petitioned Navar to be king, he agreed, but on one condition.”

“What condition?”

“A tribute. He demanded more money than any of the council could afford. He knew it. Now he has their oath. There’s a way a man can gain power without expending much energy.”

“Control the council, control the people.”

“Yes. He convinced them he’s the only one keeping our people from civil war, and he may be right.”

Kera grabbed her father’s hand. “This wedding can’t take place. You have to see that now. You have to get me out of here.”

Misery tinged his voice, pinched his lips. “You know I can’t. I promised him your hand.”

Her father, in his desperation to keep her safe, had foolishly bound her to the man who was the cause of all their problems. She took a deep, calming breath. “I didn’t make any promise. And even if I did, I can break my vow.”

Her father shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re suggesting.”

“It’s not a suggestion.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s for the best. You know it. Just promise me you won’t stop me from leaving.”

“Kera…” His voice cracked on her name. “I can’t. I told you, he went into a rage when he couldn’t find you. He came to me and vowed he would burn our village to the ground and kill everyone if I didn’t control you. I love you, but I can’t let that happen.” Defeat entered her father’s eyes. “You will marry him. I’m sorry, but there’s no other choice.”

Ashes in the Wind

The weight of the sword Bodog had given me before we’d left his earthen room slaps between my shoulder blades. The dwarf had assured me a sword is a needed commodity in his world. That he actually believes I’ll know how to use it is flattering, but his confidence in my abilities is misplaced.

The light from Bodog’s lantern slips silently along the passage, highlighting the underworld in an eerie light. Sound is stolen. Dead air presses inward. Outside the tiny circle of light, the world ceases to exist. Nothingness is only an arm’s reach away, and that threat of eternal darkness makes my legs feel unsteady.

I hurry after Bodog, eager to leave this oppressive, wriggling cluster of earthen legs that seep tear drops of water as if mourning the roots that dig into its skin. Before long, we come to an incline. The tunnel narrows. Bodog sets down the lantern, drops to his knees, and scuttles forward, wiggling and squirming into a tiny hole. I follow him, squeezing my shoulders together while I struggle upward on my belly. The hilt of my sword snags on a root, and I wiggle myself free. Dirt from Bodog’s efforts to make the hole above us a little bigger rains down on me, until finally, he pushes a clump of grass back and he’s out.

A pinhole of light shines down. The stale air grows sweeter where the tree roots amass, entangling each other in a way that could easily imprison me underground, forever. Halfway up, I get stuck, my shoulders squeezed so tightly, my ribs ache. I close my eyes and feel the power fill me. The earth shudders, and in one motion, it takes a breath, expanding the hole. Twisted tree roots move, scraping away the earth. Slowly, I forge my way to the surface, pushing aside dirt and debris until I’m out of the hole.

While I shake off the clinging dirt, Bodog eyes what used to be the small opening to his tunnel, his ears twitching, his face crumpled with irritation. He holds out the flap of grass that shielded the opening, but it’s far too small. From his grumbles and mutterings, I catch only one word: “Ruined.”

For such a messy little guy, he’s finicky about his tunnels. I guess he isn’t fond of visitors who may fall in. “Stand back,” I say.

I urge the roots back to their original positions, feeling the ground rumble, bow, and pull at the displaced earth until the tunnel is half its size. “How’s that?”

He sticks his head in the hole and snuffles and wriggles before popping back out. “Good enough.”

It’s exactly how it was before, but I refuse to get sucked into an argument. Instead, I’m itching to take off. I need to get back to my world, find Grandpa, and ask what I should do. As soon as I think it, the air shifts and a curved ribbon of energy floats toward the east.

“Do you see that?” I ask Bodog. The ever-helpful guy grunts. It’s his affirmative grunt. The negative one has more of a snap to it. That I’ve already figured this out is a little surprising.

When I face him for a final farewell, a bright lash of midday sunlight slips through the tree branches, burning the brown bark as well as Bodog’s skin. Before my eyes, his color deepens from chalky white to cinnamon brown. Bodog, with his too-big feet, twitchy ears, and big eyes squinting against the sun, has taken on the appearance of a feral night creature caught in the light.

I take a step toward him, troubled by his appearance. “Are you all right?”

The light abruptly vanishes, and a heavy darkness descends. He sniffs at the air and hunkers close to the cover of the trees. “Isn’t safe here. The trees are aflutter.”

I know what he means. They shift and sigh and act like they’ll pull up roots and walk off. It’s creepy. At every sound, Bodog’s muscles spasm, and his weight shifts from foot to foot. “They’ll know now. They’ll feel it. Too risky.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the poor guy’s a nervous wreck. I never expected him to come with me, and I don’t want to bring him any trouble. “It’s okay, Bodog. I can take it from here. You can go.”

He willingly nods, and to my surprise, as soon as he’s close to the entrance to the tunnel, his skin whitens again, matching the pale mushrooms he cultivates deep underground. Before he slips away, he glances back. “There is a darkness in Navar that only death can appease.”

“Okay,
what?
”

My question goes unanswered as Bodog disappears into the tunnel. “Bodog,” I grit out in a harsh whisper, but the grass is now securely in place. He’s gone.

I let out an irritated sigh. It’s suddenly dead quiet, like the forest is taking a nap. At midday? There should be a riot of sound and movement.

They
. Bodog said something about
they
.

Warnings tingle along my nerves. I back away from the now-camouflaged hole, my ears attuned to the slightest sound, my gaze searching. A sudden dark wind rises, and the trees huddle closer.

I make my way from the small clearing and follow the streak of energy. The ribbon behind me disappears as soon as I pass. I’ve got to get to the wall. I need to tell my grandparents what I’m about to do. Get their support. Make them believe that this place is my world, that I belong with Kera. They’ll be disappointed. Probably confused. I won’t tell Grandma about the danger I’m in. Grandpa will understand. He’ll agree. Danger is unavoidable no matter what I do or where I am. Marked is marked. I’d rather fight them in this world, where my powers are strongest, than in my world, where they’re sketchy and sap the strength out of me.

Shadows grow and clouds gather overhead. Yet, within those shadows hover specks of light. Glittering, twinkling light.

Pux
.

I trust them as much as I trust my mother to be reasonable.

The lights skitter across the ribbon of energy like kids on a playground, their buzz a soft drone in my ears. I abandon the ribbon, but not fast enough. The buzz grows, and their pursuit is on. At first, the trees are obstacles I’m forced to dodge, until I remember my powers. Suddenly the trunks bend and twist out of my way, leaving behind a subtle shimmer of leaves that float to the ground.

Soon, the lights are far behind me, and the wall looms ahead. To my left, a wet heaviness fills the air. I follow it until a low blanket of mist appears. Oxygen grows thin. I stumble against a large tree. My fingers scrape along the bark as I sink to my knees. I breathe deeply to catch my breath. I know this feeling, this strange lightheadedness.

The vein in my neck throbs painfully. I peer around the tree trunk.

A door in the wall hangs ajar.

Amid a swirl of glittering mist, a man stands at attention few yards away, gripping a horse by its bridle. He’s dressed in a militaristic blue, with a stiff collar, gold epaulets on his shoulders, and medals on his chest. He’s obviously waiting, but for who?

The horse moves, stomping its feet and snorting its discomfort, yet it remains by the stoic man. As the mist slips along the ground, a twinkle of
pux
emerge from the gateway, followed by twenty men dressed in strange armor, carrying a variety of weapons. The smudges of black and streaks of red make it clear they’ve been up to no good.

My stomach knots, and I want to throw up as I watch the men wipe the blood from their swords. Whose blood is it? My nerves fairly jump out of my skin with my need to find out. I force myself to stay put even though my mind races with possibilities. What have they done? Who have they killed because of me?

From the midst of the group, a dark-haired man steps forward, and the one holding the horse bows low. “Happy return, Lord Navar.”

My fingers dig into the bark. So this is Navar. Armor shines dully across his broad shoulders, making him look like bear trapped in a cage. His dark hair gleams blue-black in the struggling light of the sun. He tosses a crossbow at the man before slamming his sword into the leather scabbard riding on his hip.

His face is a mask of hard planes, his voice devoid of warmth. “Do I look happy, Granel?”

The servant straightens, his face sober as he catches the pair of blood-stained, leather gloves Navar tosses him. “What disturbs you, my lord?”

“I don’t like wasting my time. Your information proved false once again.”

“The power surge was felt in that area. We even have witnesses.”

“You place too much trust in the
pux
. Your continued reliance on those mindless creatures will be your downfall.” Navar swings atop his horse and glares down at the man. “A half-breed with special powers is as much a myth as a unicorn. Until you have more accurate information, do not waste my time.”

“There’s someone who knows more than she’s telling.”

Navar’s nostrils flare and his face darkens. “Careful whom you drag into this hunt, Granel.” He tugs on a new pair of gloves and slips the reins firmly between his fingers.

“Faldon protects her, but I believe it’s worth a chance.”

Navar stares into the distance. “If she knows, I’ll find out. For the sake of caution, post a guard, but keep him hidden. If this myth materializes, let him think he’s safe. The sage has revealed the future. I won’t be caught unaware.”

The man bows, and Navar kicks his horse into motion. As the group follows, he pulls an experienced-looking guard from the formation and orders him to stay behind and out of sight. The guard makes a quick loop of the area, and then climbs a tree to wait.

For me.

Easing back, I press my spine into the prickly bark and rub my hands through my hair. It’s obvious they don’t know I’m in their world. According to Navar, I’m not even real. Granel is a problem. He believes in my existence and has enough sway over Navar that he’s gotten him to at least consider the possibility I’m a threat.

After seeing what I’ve just seen, I’ve got to get back home now more than ever.

Before I can move, the guard appears, dangling upside-down from the branch above me with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hello, mutt.”

He cartwheels out of the tree, lands on his feet, and swings his sword at my neck in one fluid motion. I dodge the blade and spring to my feet, calling on the tree branches to capture him. The man is quickly tangled, yet with a heavy blow, his sword slices neatly through the wood. He drops to the ground, unfazed.

Eyes glittering, he stalks me.

I fumble for the sword Bodog gave me. This guy is a hardened soldier. I don’t stand a chance.

I dodge his blade time and again, feeling the whistle of cold steel every time it passes. I manage to pull out my sword, and then something unexpected happens. The blade ripples to life with a flash of fire. I thrust the sword in front of me and gape.

The soldier stops and smiles. “Well, well, well. You’re full of surprises.”

“Just wait. I’ve got more,” I say with confidence I don’t exactly feel. Hopefully, my act has him thinking I’m used to a good, flaming sword fight. To back up my false confidence, I find myself lunging forward, my flaming sword slicing toward his head. He spins away, and the battle begins in earnest.

I must be crazy. I’ve never fought with a sword. He acts like he was born with it in his hand. His blade comes frighteningly close to my head and cuts off a few strands of my hair. Trees are used as vaulting points. Branches as obstacles. Forest debris whirls. We tussle, and my sword flies out of my hand.

Desperate for cover, I duck behind a tree, breathless and sore. I’m at my wit’s end. How long can I postpone the inevitable? I duck as his blade swipes at me again. I don’t want to die. Not like this. Not here. Not now.

He charges again, and I quickly snap my legs and arms straight; the ground opens up and swallows me at the moment his blade arcs down.

I don’t know why I did it. Being buried alive isn’t pleasant, but I’m fairly certain it’s better than being hacked to death. The earth presses in on me, and it takes all my power to keep the dirt from smothering me. I’ve barely counted to five when I pop back up a few feet behind the unsuspecting warrior, who is stabbing at the earth where I’d disappeared. I rush him, snare his waist, and ram him into the nearest tree. The bark splits. The core cracks. The guard’s sword drops to the ground as the tree snatches him inside. Tree sap pours over him. His face, once so confident, crumples in horror. I stand back and stare at the bark slowly mending itself, sealing the warrior in a living casket.

With a shiver, I stumble back, disgusted by what I’ve done. “Don’t think about it. Not now,” I rasp aloud. I did what I had to do. Kill or be killed. Won’t Grandpa be proud? The thought doesn’t calm my churning insides. I’m sick with adrenalin, but I can’t stop now. I’ve chosen a path that can’t be erased.