Читать книгу Scent of Magic - Maria Snyder V. - Страница 10

I reached the outskirts of Mengels fourteen days after I left Kerrick. Bypassing Zabin had been tedious. I’d spent more time hiding than walking. The High Priestess Estrid’s holy army patrols covered more ground than before. Plus she had increased the frequency of their sweeps.

The noise of her squads’ passage through the forest had made it easy to avoid them—it just took longer. But their ineptitude worried me greatly. There was no way they would be able to perform any stealth military tactics without giving their positions away. Tohon’s troops would cut right through them. They needed to learn Kerrick’s trick of moving in the woods without making a sound.

Outside the Lamp Post Inn, I wrapped my hair into a tight knot. It had grown a couple inches since Mom and her daughter, Melina, had dyed the blond strands back to my natural auburn color and trimmed it. Now it hung straight to the end of my shoulder blades.

I donned a pair of eyeglasses that I’d found. It made everything a little blurry but not enough to hinder me. Then I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head. While the spring days had been warm, the nights cooled fast enough that I wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. I’d decided to enter the inn during the evening rush when the arrival of one more person wouldn’t be unusual. I’d rent a room where Mom could help me with a better disguise when she had time.

A good plan, except only a few people arrived. Anxiety grew. Mom always had a full house. Well, the days I’d been here she had. Perhaps this was her off-season.

When I pushed into the common room, I jerked to a stop. The reasons for the small turnout sat at the bar and occupied most of the tables. Estrid’s red-robed acolytes had invaded the inn.

I would have retreated, but a few of the acolytes spotted me standing in the doorway. If I left, it would be suspicious. So I strolled over to the bar to inquire about a room. Waiting for the bartender to finish with another customer, I scanned the inn’s common area.

A blaze roared in the hearth. Mom had covered the rough wooden tables with bright tablecloths, and cushions softened the chairs. Pastel paintings of flowers hung on the walls, and the mantel displayed Mom’s teapot collection. Despite the relaxed decor, tension thickened the air.

The door to the kitchen banged open. Mom stood on the threshold brandishing a spoon and fussing at one of the servers. Wisps of her pure white hair had escaped her bun. Stains coated her apron, and she looked years older even though I’d last seen her four and a half months ago. Not good.

She spotted me but didn’t react. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to rent a room.”

Mom glanced at the acolytes sitting at the bar. One man nodded to her. She pointed her spoon toward the tables. “Have a seat. I might have an open room, let me check.”

Oh, no. I retreated and found a small table in the back right corner out of the direct firelight. My thoughts swirled with questions. When had Estrid invaded Mengels? Should I just bolt and hope for the best?

A server I didn’t recognize took my order. In fact, I didn’t know any of the waitstaff. More than a few acolytes eyed me with interest. Swords hung from their waists. Which was a new twist. The acolytes I’d seen before hadn’t been armed. Well, not visibly. I wondered if these devotees would try to “recruit” me as they had my sister.

Noelle had been living on the streets of Grzebien when Estrid’s army had arrived to “help” the plague survivors, whether they’d wanted it or not. Along with a group of other street rats, Noelle had been rounded up and sent to a training camp.

The scars on my back burned with guilt as I remembered Noelle swinging a mallet at my head and accusing me of abandoning her. She’d been ten when my mother and younger brother, Allyn, had sickened with the plague and died, leaving her alone. At the time, I was in Galee working as an apprentice healer. Noelle said she’d sent me letters begging me to come home, but I never received them. I suspected my mentor, Tara, had intercepted them.

That still wasn’t an acceptable excuse. Or the fact that, since the plague swept with such speed, I wouldn’t have gotten home in time. Noelle was right. I’d abandoned her, and I needed to make amends.

Since my every move was being scrutinized by the acolytes, I ate my meal without tasting it.

Mom arrived with a slice of strawberry pie. She set it down in front of me.

“I didn’t order—”

“A skinny little thing like you can afford to have dessert.”

And just for a second, I caught a gleam of recognition in her eyes before she returned to brisk innkeeper.

“I do have a vacancy. How long are you planning to stay?”

“One night.”

“Just you?”

“Yes.”

“When you’re finished, I’ll show you the way.” She left.

Kerrick was right. The pie was delicious. Too bad I couldn’t really enjoy it. Not with Mom acting so strange. I hoped I’d have time to talk to her before the acolytes ambushed me. Because even looking through the blurry lenses of my glasses, there was no missing the nods and speculative stares that passed between them.

Mom led me to a tiny room on the first floor. Relief loosened a few knots in my stomach when I spotted the window between a narrow bed and a tall, thin armoire. I yanked off the spectacles and rubbed the ache in my forehead. While she lit the lantern on the night table, I closed the door and leaned against it.

“Tell me this isn’t as bad as it looks,” I said.

“It’s worse.” Grief leaked through the bland persona she’d adopted.

“Melina?”

“Taken.” She sat on the edge of the bed as if her legs could no longer hold her. “As you will be.”

No surprise. “Now?”

“Middle of the night. They have keys to all the doors, so you need to leave right now.”

“Do they recognize me?” I asked.

“No. They think you’re a lone traveler and an easy target.”

“Tell me what happened?”

The story sounded too familiar. Estrid’s troops had arrived to help. They’d conscripted all the young people and “converted” as many as they could, turning them into true believers of the creator.

“My rooms are filled with acolytes, and Chane, the one in charge of Mengels, is staying here, as well,” Mom said.

“The big guy at the bar?” I asked.

“Yes. He says if I cooperate, I’ll see Melina again.”

“Do you know where they took her?”

“Up north. They need soldiers to fight King Tohon’s army. They’re planning to recruit in all the towns in Sectven Realm.” Mom twisted the end of her apron. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s killed in battle.”

“She won’t be. I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Mom glanced at me. “I can’t ask—”

“You’re not. I’m offering. Besides, I saved her before, and I’m not about to let her get hurt again.”

She straightened her apron. “How can I help?”

I debated. Kerrick had instructed me to find a job that made me invisible. If Estrid’s acolytes recruited me as a soldier for her army, then I’d be one of dozens. And one uniformed soldier looked much like another. Except I’d be watched as a potential flight risk and wouldn’t have any freedom. Their squads needed to learn how to move within the forests without giving away their positions or they’d be slaughtered. It was something I could do if I managed to convince them they needed my help.

Mom waited for my answer.

Kerrick wouldn’t be happy. Good thing he wasn’t here to lecture me.

“I need a better disguise.” I explained to Mom about my death and about the Peace Lily’s role in my survival, just in case something happened to me and Kerrick. “However, you cannot tell a soul I’m alive.”

“Of course not, dearie. I protect my girls,” she said with a spark of the Mom I’d remembered.

I outlined my plan.

“Goodness, such a to-do. You’re heading straight into trouble. I hope you know what you’re doing.” She left to fetch a few supplies.

I hoped so, too. While I waited for her, I arranged the room to aid with my plans. Mom returned with a basin, dyes, towels and a tray laden with other materials, including a couple jars filled with flesh-colored goo. At least that was what it looked like.

“I can’t lighten your hair since they’ve seen it darker, but I can dye it so it’s more red than brown.” She gestured for me to sit. “Make sure you always wear it up or pulled back. It will help make you look older.”

She worked fast, and soon my hair was wrapped tight in a towel. Opening one of the jars, she dipped her fingers in and then smeared the goo over my face and neck. Then she attacked my eyebrows with tweezers, plucking without pause. She dyed the thin arcs she left behind.

“This is going to hurt,” she warned me before brandishing a syringe. “Hold very still.”

I almost jumped from my seat when she pricked my bottom lip. Bracing for the stab of pain to my upper lip didn’t make it feel any better. My lips throbbed as if I’d bitten them very hard.

“Watz tat or?” I asked through swollen lips.

“It’s venom from a lannik snake. It’ll make your lips fuller for now.” She considered. “Usually it wears off in six months, but it might not last that long for you.”

“Ight ot?”

“Healers heal faster, right?”

Our bodies healed about ten times faster. I nodded. It was easier than talking.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them. Now let’s get the lightener off your face.”

Mom washed my face, combed and braided my hair so the braid circled my head like a rope. She sprinkled something wet over my nose and cheeks before blotting at it with a towel.

With a satisfied smile she flourished a hand mirror, turning it until a stranger stared back at me.

“Freckles?” My now pale skin sported an array of freckles.

“They match the hair color. I used an ink that should last six months, and your natural skin color shouldn’t return for at least four months. I’ll put together a package of supplies for you to take along, so you can reapply if needed. And you’ll need a new name and realm to go along with the disguise.” She stepped back and regarded me. “Not bad, dearie. With the spectacles on, no one will recognize you.”

The glasses had given me a headache. Conscious of my lips, I formed my words with care. “I can’t wear … long.”

“Not to worry.” Mom rummaged through her supplies and produced a pair of glasses with silver wired frames. “These have plain glass.”

She helped me adjust them so they fit.

“Smart,” I said.

Sadness filled her eyes. “No, I’m not. If I’d listened to the rumors, I could have sent Melina away before those red-robed devils arrived.”

“Where would you have sent her? Not north or west, Tohon is invading those realms as we speak. Estrid has the north and east occupied. South?”

Pausing in the middle of cleaning up, she gaped at me. “No. Travelers from the south have told me such horror stories about a Skeleton King in Ryazan Realm.”

“Skeleton King?”

“He has gathered a following and they’re armed with the bones of their enemies.”

“Are you sure? That sounds far-fetched.”

“If it was only one or two travelers, I’d dismiss it, but many people have been fleeing from Ryazan. And they all say the same things.”

Just what we needed—more trouble. “Then you couldn’t have sent her anywhere, Mom. No place is safe anymore.”

No place is safe. My words to Mom replayed in my mind as I waited on top of the armoire. There was just enough room for me to sit cross-legged. Watery moonlight illuminated the lump under the bedcovers, but my hiding spot remained in the shadows.

A breeze rustled the leaves in the forest outside my open window. The fresh scent of living green reminded me of Kerrick. I half expected him to climb into my room. But nothing stirred or caused the insects to halt their nightly chirping.

The thin handles of my throwing knives dug into my damp palms. My cloak hung inside the armoire, and I wore my black travel clothes. Three years on the run from bounty hunters and mercenaries had taught me patience.

To pass the time, I thought about a new name and realm. Since my skin color now matched the people born in the northern realms, I decided I would be from Gubkin. It was tempting to pick Alga, but when Prince Kerrick of Alga showed up with Prince Ryne of Ivdel, there was a slight chance someone would try to introduce us. Plague survivors always sought out others from their former realms.

As for a name … I chose my mother’s name, Irina. A wave of grief swelled. I’d never had the chance to say goodbye to her or Allyn. Noelle had buried them in the mass graves and left Lekas. I’d arrived home to an empty house. My father and older brother, Criss, had died in a mine collapse before the plague struck. Four members of my family gone. I swallowed the tears that threatened. I would not lose Noelle, too.

The sudden quiet warned me. Shuffling footsteps outside approached my window. I shifted into a crouch and concentrated on the sounds. Two acolytes moved to block my escape. Then the lock on my door clicked and two robed figures entered. One moved toward my bed while the other stood before the now closed door.

Only four? Or did they have more waiting in the hallway? Did it matter? Not really.

I threw a knife at the person guarding the door—thunk—and then a second—thunk—pinning the sleeves of his robe to the wood. One down. I leapt off the armoire and landed on the acolyte near the bed. He fell with a solid thud. Just to be safe, I touched the back of his neck.

Power swelled from my core, and I channeled it into him, zapping him into unconsciousness. Not many people knew healers had that ability, and the acolyte wouldn’t remember what hit him. I doubted his partner even saw the action as he struggled to free himself.

Now for the two outside. I dove through the window, hit the ground and rolled. A cry of surprise sounded nearby, but I gained my feet and dashed into the woods. They chased after me. As soon as I reached a thicker area, I slowed and moved through the forest the way Kerrick had taught me.

My passage matched the natural sounds of the woods. Unlike my pursuers, who crashed through as if running from a pack of ufas. I found a hiding spot. They cursed as they stumbled into trees, and the fabric of their robes caught on thorns. I muffled my breathing as one came quite close to me.

He yelled at his companion to stop making so much noise. They paused and listened, then decided to split up to cover more ground. Big mistake. I waited until they were far enough apart, then I stepped behind the acolyte who had yelled.

Touching the back of his neck, I zapped him. He jerked in surprise before collapsing.

His companion’s noisy passage was easy to track. I caught up to him and pulled my stiletto. Instead of zapping this one, I pressed the tip of the blade against his throat. “Looking for me?”

He froze. “Uh.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned as I yanked his sword from his belt and tossed it aside. “Follow my orders and your head will remain attached to your thick neck. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s go.” I grabbed the collar of his robe.

“Where?” he asked.

“Back to the Lamp Post Inn.”

He paused. “You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve heard.” I poked him with my blade. “Now move.”

When we reached the front of the inn, I instructed my captive to go inside first. Drawing in a deep breath, I stayed behind him as he pushed open the door. This could be a very big mistake. I steadied my nerves by concentrating on being confident like Loren and cocky like Quain.

While we were still in the shadowy threshold, I peeked around my guy. The common area was rather crowded for the middle of the night. I counted five. All armed.

The leader, Chane, rounded on my acolyte. “What’s going on? Where is she?” he demanded.

“Uh.”

My captive wasn’t the most loquacious. I moved next to him but kept my stiletto pressed against his skin.

“I found him lost in the woods.” I tsked. “Poor thing should know the forest is dangerous at night.”

Swords appeared in four hands within seconds.

However, Chane studied me. I copied him. He was as tall as Belen but not as wide. Although I didn’t doubt strong muscles lurked underneath his robe. His nose looked as if someone had sat on it, and his brown hair had been cut military short. A soldier despite the acolyte’s garb. He appeared to be around Loren’s age—about thirty-five.

He broke the silence. “You’re either incredibly stupid or …”

“Or what?” I asked.

“Or incredibly stupid.”

“Now, now. Play nice. I didn’t kill any of your men. And I could have easily disappeared. I still can,” I said with a bravado I didn’t feel.

He motioned to one of his men. “Hent, check her room.” Then he returned his attention to me. “Okay, I’ll play. What do you want?”

“It’s more about what you want. You sent your colleagues to ambush me. I assume you have a good reason?”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I just wanted to talk.”

Yeah, right. “Okay. So talk.”

It took him a moment to cover his surprise. “Just like that?”

“You’re looking for bodies for Estrid’s army. Right?”

“We’re missionaries, spreading the creator’s message of peace and educating the—”

“Save the speech for someone who is gullible enough to fall for it. Fact is, I’m interested. You know I’m skilled. Four of your guys couldn’t catch me. I can fight for Estrid, but I don’t want to be a draftee, devotee or anything else ending in ee.”

Understanding shone in his eyes. He relaxed until Hent returned from my room with the acolyte I’d pinned to the door. Two small rips marked the sleeves of his robe. He clutched my knives in tight fists, glaring at me.

“We can’t wake Tyson,” Hent said.

Every gaze focused on me. “He’ll be fine once the drug wears off.”

“What did you use?” Chane asked.

“Trade secret.”

“And my other acolyte?”

“Sleeping in the woods.”

He paused for a moment before gesturing to the bar. “Let’s have a drink and discuss your … terms.”

I waited.

“Consider it a cease-fire. No one will attack you. I give you my word.”

“And you are?”

“High Priest Chane of Ozero Realm.”

High Priest? An impressive rank. “What are you doing in Mengels?”

He laughed. “Spreading the word. I can be very persuasive.”

I glanced at his men. They still held their swords at the ready. “Uh-huh.”

“They’re overprotective.” He signaled them, and all but Hent sheathed their weapons.

He stared at me as if waiting for the opportunity to throw my knives at me.

Chane noticed. “Hent, give me those.”

With reluctance, Hent handed him the two throwing knives. Chane placed them on the bar, then he inclined his head at me, waiting. I released his man and slid my stiletto back into its holder on my belt. He pulled a stool out for me, then settled on the one next to it as if we were old friends getting reacquainted. But his gaze turned cold when he focused on my ex-captive. “Otto, fetch us some wine.”

The man rushed to obey.

“So, Miss …?”

“Irina of Gubkin Realm.” I perched on the edge of the stool.

“You’ve traveled a long way.”

I shrugged. “The northern realms are quiet compared to what’s happening on this side of the Nine Mountains.”

“As I understand it, you’re looking for a higher-ranking position in the High Priestess’s army. Why didn’t you approach the officers up near Zabin?”

“They weren’t smart enough to catch me while I crossed through their territory.”

Otto placed two glasses of red wine on the bar and retreated to the other end.

Chane swirled his wine. “But I haven’t caught you either.”

“That’s why you need me.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

I swallowed a mouthful of wine. “I’ve been in Vyg. I’ve seen Tohon’s … special troops.” I let the horror and revulsion show on my face. No acting required. “You need me.”

He considered. “Word from the High Priestess is that those creatures are a rumor. A tactic to spread fear in our army.”

I stared at him, doing my best to match Kerrick’s flat expression.

“The information about them came from a dubious source,” he tried.

“Then you are calling me a liar.” And also Belen, Quain and Loren. If Belen were here, he’d squash Chane so the rest of his body matched his nose. I snatched my knives and stood.

“Wait. I apologize. It’s just so … implausible. I know Tohon’s a powerful life magician, but for him to be able to animate the dead is … unbelievable.”

I could have explained how Tohon injected them with an unknown substance and then froze their bodies in a stasis so they didn’t decay. The combination of the mystery drug and magic gave them a fake life. Why it worked, I had no idea. However, that was much more than I planned to reveal to Chane.

Instead, I said, “You would have an easier time recruiting soldiers if you showed the people what Tohon’s capable of. Then you wouldn’t have to resort to late-night abductions and rounding up street rats.”

He peered at me as if he had misjudged me. “How do I know you’re not a spy for Tohon?”

“Because if I was spying for him, I would have let you kidnap me. Then I would be like all the rest you’ve conscripted—a nameless, faceless soldier able to blend in with ease. He probably has a dozen spies in place already. Tohon’s no fool.”

When he didn’t respond, I said, “This has been a colossal waste of time. I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“To join Tohon’s forces. Might as well fight for the winner.” I headed for the door. Would they try to stop me?

“Irina, wait,” Chane said.

I turned, expecting to see sharp blades pointed at me. Instead he sent Otto to fetch him parchment and ink.

“Finish your wine,” he said.

Still wary, I settled back on the stool. After Otto returned, Chane wrote a letter of introduction.

“Give this to Major Granvil,” he said, handing it to me.

I scanned the letter. Even though there were a few compliments about me, three words stood out as if they’d been written in bright red ink. My aunt Estrid. Chane was her nephew. I almost groaned out loud. So much for keeping a low profile.