Read Scent of Magic Page 14


  “No. I won’t because I will never hurt you again.” I let her go and held my hands out to the side.

  “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  “No. Because the old Noelle isn’t dead. Far from it. She’s hiding inside and I plan to coax her out.”

  “Don’t bother.” She stabbed her blade into my stomach. Caught off guard, I stumbled back.

  Keeping her hand on the hilt, she stayed with me. “How about now? Give up?”

  Despite the burning pain eating through my guts, I met her gaze. “No.”

  For just a second, the old Noelle gazed back. But she pressed her lips together. Yanking the weapon out, she wiped the blade on my shirt. “Next time it will be coated with poison. Stay away from me.”

  “Not going...to...happen,” I puffed.

  She paused, opened her mouth but snapped it shut. Without glancing back, she left.

  Wrapping my arms around my waist, I sank to my knees. Blood soon soaked my sleeves as the world spun around me. Pain clawed at my insides. Sweat dripped and stung my eyes. I huddled on the ground.

  My emotions seesawed. Her attack felt more like a reaction to fear than of malicious intent. Fear that I might break through her defenses and she’d start to forgive me. Hating me was easier than forgiving me. I remembered my own hatred when Kerrick had backhanded me. Even after his apology and promise never to do it again, I couldn’t trust him. It took time and courage to change my mind.

  I decided to view my encounter with Noelle as a positive step. Next time would be better. And I would be prepared for anything, including a poison-tipped dagger. Unless Jael got to me first.

  Eventually the pain lessened. I lurched to my feet and returned to my tent well after midnight. Snores emanated from Wynn’s and Liv’s cots. Fumbling around in the dark, I removed my bloodstained uniform and stuffed it into the bottom of my locker. The wound still oozed, so I wrapped a bandage around my waist before donning my nightclothes. Weak from blood loss and healing, I collapsed onto my cot.

  * * *

  Saul woke me the next morning. Disoriented, I squinted into the brightness. Liv and Wynn were gone. Remembering the mission, I jumped out of bed. I’d overslept! A wave of dizziness sat me back down.

  “Are you—”

  I waved off Saul’s concern. “Give me a minute.”

  “The lieutenant’s waiting.”

  And probably pissed. “Tell her I’ll be right out.”

  When Saul left, I changed. The cut had sealed shut, but the skin remained red, swollen and tender to the touch. With stiff movements, I packed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

  Thea and Saul stood outside my tent.

  “This isn’t a promising start to our mission, Sergeant,” she said.

  “Sorry. I had an upset stomach last night and didn’t sleep well.”

  “I trust you’re feeling better?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Let’s go. We’re burning daylight.” She headed north, setting a brisk pace.

  Saul fell into step beside me. “Problem?”

  “Not at the moment.” Which was the truth. After being in one place for close to fifty days, the thought of hiking through the forest for a few days energized my steps.

  Even though we hadn’t discussed it, we all went silent once we entered the woods. Saul and his squad had also caught on quick to the training. No surprise since they had already been a quiet group. Interesting how the ten soldiers within a group all matched personalities with their sergeant. Did the assigning officer do it on purpose, or did the men and women change as they worked with a certain group? I’d have to ask Thea later.

  During the day, we encountered a few patrols. We slipped by a couple, but most heard us. Thea needed more practice. However, once they ascertained our friendly status, they moved on.

  We stopped for the night before full darkness. No sense stumbling around in the dark, setting up camp. Saul collected firewood while Thea and I built a stone ring to contain the fire. The season had been drier than normal, and the clearing we picked was small.

  After we started a little fire, we attracted two different patrols, checking for unfriendlies.

  “Shouldn’t they be patrolling in Vyg?” I asked Thea.

  She had insisted on cooking and was hunched over the pot. “We’ve plenty of soldiers in Vyg. They’re also patrolling east and south of Zabin. We can’t let Tohon’s army come in from behind.”

  “Why is Tohon waiting to attack?”

  “I’ve no idea. According to our intel, he has the men and resources. But once he reached the middle of Vyg, he stopped.”

  “Sector five,” Saul said.

  Where the liquid metal mine was located. He needed it to protect his dead troops. But shouldn’t he have enough by now?

  “That was months ago. Why doesn’t Estrid take the initiative?” I asked.

  “The High Priestess doesn’t want all-out war,” Thea said.

  Right. She’d rather “claim” towns and villages in the name of peace where there was no resistance—just people trying to survive.

  “Whatever his reasons, it’s good for us,” Thea said.

  I let the subject drop, and we chatted about mundane things. Thea was born in Casis Realm.

  “Compared to the warrior priests back home, the High Priestess’s rules are minor annoyances,” Thea said. “I think we’re the only realm that actually benefited from the plague.”

  Surprised by her comment, I asked, “But the plague killed so many. Surely you lost family and friends.”

  She stared at the fire. “Probably. I was taken from my family when I was four to be raised by the priests. Training and lessons dominated my life. I had no time for friends.”

  Saul looked impressed. “Assassin?”

  A smile flickered. “Scared?”

  “Only if you say yes.”

  “Not an assassin,” I answered for her.

  “Why do you say that?” Thea asked.

  “You’re too noisy in the forest.”

  Another rare smile. “You’re right. I was training to be a bodyguard for the cardinals.”

  “That’s still impressive,” Saul said.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t finish, but I’ve learned a few tricks.”

  “Handy,” I said.

  “It keeps the gentlemen callers away.”

  I laughed while Saul looked confused. “How did you end up in Estrid’s army?”

  “Someone needs to bring the survivors together. I’d thought I’d lend a hand.”

  We asked Saul about his past, but he was reluctant to share anything besides the fact he was born in Tobory.

  When it grew late, I stood, stretched and smoothed out my bedroll. “Should we set a watch?” I asked Thea.

  “Yes. Take the first shift. Wake Saul in two hours, and I’ll go last,” Thea said.

  “All right.” I checked my belt, making sure my knives were secured, then scanned the forest for a good spot.

  “Why do you do that?” Saul asked.

  “I’m looking for—”

  “Not that.” He pointed at my hand. “Touching the leaves.”

  Without thinking, I had grabbed a bush, hoping to feel Kerrick’s magic. How to explain it? “I’m seeking a connection.”

  “To the forest?” Saul asked.

  “Yes.”

  He accepted it without asking further questions. Saul and Thea settled in for the night, and I made a sweep around our camp, checking for intruders before I found a location to watch and listen.

  Once again I fingered a leaf. No tingle vibrated through my fingers. I hadn’t lied to Saul. To me, connecting to the forest meant linking to Kerrick. Loneliness etched a familiar groove into my heart. Worry for Kerrick flared along with the real possibility that I’d never see him again.

  * * *

  We found the first clump of Lilys the next day. Four giant white flowers grew between two massive oak trees. I sniffed the air. The scent of honey and l
emons dominated. I wouldn’t pick up the slighter scents of anise or vanilla until I was closer.

  I removed my pack and handed it to Saul. His queasy expression matched Thea’s. Even though I explained to them about my immunity to the Death Lily toxin, they hadn’t truly believed me. Approaching a Lily went against a lifetime of avoidance and fear.

  “Relax,” I said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  I walked toward the flowers, and the clean smell of vanilla greeted me. All four were Peace Lilys. Perfect.

  When I reached the base of the closest flower, I placed my hands on a thick petal, hoping it would recognize or remember me. The plants’ roots were all connected. But nothing happened. I tried the next one, then the other two. Same thing. Nothing.

  “Now what?” Thea asked.

  “We try another set,” I said.

  We consulted Saul’s borrowed map and headed farther north to a clump. Again, it contained all Peace Lilys. Again, they refused to open or acknowledge me.

  “Should we return?” Thea asked.

  “No. We need to locate a Death Lily so I can find out what’s going on.”

  Saul and Thea exchanged a glance. One of those she-lost-her-mind-and-should-we-humor-her? looks.

  “You can go back,” I said. “There is one Death Lily for every hundred Peace Lilys, so it might take a while.”

  They stayed with me. We found one the next day in a clump of Lilys northeast of Zabin. The Death Lily hissed when I approached. Its petals opened as its vines reached for me. Large seed pods hung below its fibrous leaves. Knives and swords couldn’t cut through any part of the plant, but I wondered if a weapon made of liquid metal could.

  The speed of the Lily still surprised me, even after being snatched a number of times. Softness scooped me up, then instant blackness as the petals clamped shut. I braced for either pricks in my arms or for it to spit me out.

  Last time I’d been in a Death Lily, it had rejected me, claiming I tasted bad. I’d been in the last stage of the plague and had hoped it would take away my pain.

  However, this time two sharp thorns pierced my upper arms as the Lily shot its toxin into me. Peace flowed over me, and my consciousness floated from my body, along the plant’s roots and into its soul. Through this connection, not only was I able to see outside the Lily, but I felt its emotions and basic thoughts, as well.

  Recognition and joy emanated from the plant. Also approval over my new taste. From my encounters with the Lilys, I sensed the Death Lilys and Peace Lilys were two separate beings spread over multiple plants.

  I inquired about the Peace Lilys, asking why they wouldn’t open for me. I need its sacks, I thought. It’s important.

  It didn’t know, but it showed me a cluster of Lilys west of our location, urging me to go there.

  Why?

  Find what you need.

  And before it could expel me, I asked why the Peace Lily saved my life when I’d died from the plague.

  No save.

  Yes, it did. Why?

  Instead of answering, the Lily removed the thorns. My awareness snapped back into my body as it dumped me onto the ground. Feeling heavy and awkward, I remained there for a minute. Once I recovered from the transition, I realized I held two orange sacks in my hands.

  The Death Lily had given me its deadly toxin. I’d no idea why. The soft round casing of the sack was durable, and I could squeeze it without popping it. Tohon had used a metal needle to extract the poison. He had injected it into children, theorizing that the survivors of the toxin would become healers. His hypothesis had been accurate, but at the deplorable cost of dozens of young lives.

  I felt a measure of satisfaction that I’d been able to kill Tohon’s Death Lilys, and to rescue the only survivors of Tohon’s experiments, Danny and Zila. At least they were safe and sound in Ryne’s castle.

  I lumbered to my feet and joined Saul and Thea. They’d waited a safe distance away. Saul handed me my pack.

  “Well?” Thea asked. “What happened?”

  Tucking the sacks into a pocket of my bag, I debated how much to tell them. “It directed me to another cluster west of here. Saul, can I see the map?”

  He handed it to me.

  “Why there?” Thea asked.

  “It believes I’d get a response from a Peace Lily there.” I unfolded the map, searching for the spot. There was a mark due west of our location, but it was a few miles over the border in Vyg.

  “Did you find it?” Thea asked.

  I showed her.

  “No can do. Time to go back to camp.”

  “It’s not that far into Vyg. We’ll be safe,” I said.

  “Major Granvil ordered us to stay out of Vyg.”

  “All right. When we get to the border, I’ll go in alone.”

  “Are you disobeying a direct order, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She glanced at Saul.

  “I’ll go in with her,” he said.

  I sensed her indecision and tried another tactic. “We don’t need to tell Major Granvil. I’m sure he’ll just be happy that the mission was a success.”

  “And when we encounter one of Tohon’s patrols and are captured or killed?” Thea asked.

  “Then violating a direct order won’t seem that bad in comparison,” I joked.

  Saul laughed.

  Thea scowled. “I don’t think you’re fully aware of the danger, Sergeant.”

  My good humor disappeared. “I’m well aware of the consequences, Lieutenant. More than anyone. If this mission wasn’t vital, I wouldn’t risk our lives.”

  She stared at me for a moment. “First sign of an enemy patrol—”

  “We’re out of there,” I agreed.

  “So you can sneak back?” Saul asked.

  “Hush.” I slapped him on the arm. This wasn’t a good time for him to be chatty.

  Thea didn’t look happy, but she grabbed the map and took point, heading west.

  Once we reached the border with Vyg, we slowed and kept alert for Tohon’s troops. We encountered no one from either side. It took us two days to reach the cluster that the Death Lily had indicated. We found them in the late afternoon. There were a number of Lilys bunched together just like the vision the plant had shown me, but there was one Lily that stood apart. It grew between two tree trunks and seemed familiar.

  Focusing on the ones I’d seen, I approached them. The scents of anise and vanilla filled the air, indicating three Peace Lilys and one Death. When I reached them, nothing happened. Not even the Death Lily twitched when I touched it. Frustrated, I pulled my stiletto. It had been made from liquid metal and might inflict damage. But I just couldn’t bring myself to harm the Lilys.

  Instead, I tried the lone Lily. A faint scent of vanilla tickled my nose. Another Peace Lily. Expecting it to remain immobile, I was surprised when it dipped its petals toward me.

  Finally! I waited for it to grab me, but it kept bending until the top of the flower brushed the ground. The petals opened and deposited a naked man.

  I froze in shock for a moment before kneeling down next to the immobile figure.

  Recognition pierced my heart, and I gasped.

  Flea lay there. It appeared he’d been perfectly preserved except his clothes had dissolved. His skin was bone-white, and his open eyes were dull and lifeless. Still dead.

  Fresh grief swelled. When I closed his eyes, a spark shot through my fingertips. A second later, an ice-cold hand grasped my wrist with surprising strength. I stared at Flea’s now open eyes. Had the movement been a reflex? Or had he been turned into one of Tohon’s dead? Fear rose as his grip turned painful.

  KERRICK

  Standing behind a leafy barberry bush, Kerrick watched the warriors. He counted men and noted weapons, seeking weaknesses. The four units of his army were moving into position—two to the south, one to the west and the other east. It had taken them six days, but they had been able to reach the forest in time to set up an ambush. Kerrick had used his forest
magic to camouflage his skin and clothes to blend in with the lush foliage so he could spy on them. The living green was irritated by all the intruders—at least eleven hundred by his count.

  The pale-skinned warriors wore white cotton sleeveless shirts and baggy white pants. Colorful sashes around their waists kept them from looking like ghosts against the greenery. Even their long hair braided down their backs was pale yellow.

  They carried a thick short sword on their hips and had a dagger tucked into their sashes. The sword’s two-foot-long blade was oddly shaped. It started out straight but then widened and curved at the bottom. The end looked as if it had been chopped off. He guessed it was a dadao sword. Kerrick had heard about them but had never seen one.

  Regardless of the name, it appeared deadly and ideal for close-quarter fighting. Which was surprising considering the tribesmen acted as if they were very uncomfortable with their location. They jumped at every little noise and kept craning their necks to peer up into the treetops.

  The wildlands were flat and wide-open. And Kerrick remembered learning that the tribes followed the herds of snow ufas nicknamed snufas as they migrated. A distant cousin of the ufa, the snufa was the size of a bull with long deadly horns and white shaggy hair. The tribes hunted them with spears. Besides eating the meat, they also used their pelts for tents and clothing. Of course, those heavy garments would be useless in this warmer climate.

  While the tribesmen had the advantage of numbers, Kerrick’s troops had experience with fighting in the woods. He hoped it would be enough.

  Kerrick returned to their temporary headquarters near the edge of the forest to consult and coordinate with his four majors one last time. They had erected a small tent for their use.

  “The tribesmen will be settling in soon,” Kerrick said. “The moon will be just bright enough tonight. When the leaves shake, that’ll be my signal to launch the attack. By the time they realize what’s going on, we should have the upper hand.”

  “Uh, Kerrick,” Danny said from behind him.

  He rounded on the boy. “Shouldn’t you be helping feed the soldiers?”

  Standing just inside the tent’s flaps, Danny swallowed. “We’re done. Cold rations take half the time to serve.” He held up a handful of beef jerky. “I brought this for you.”