Taste Of Darkness

When the sun rose, we stopped for a quick breakfast and continued. In the daylight, the monkeys searched for any signs that Kerrick had passed this way.

“Would he even leave a trail?” I asked.

“If he was too sick to do his tree mojo, he might have broken some branches,” Quain said.

And I still hadn’t felt a ripple of his magic. Which meant he was either unconscious, already inside a Lily, or dead. I leaned against a tree’s trunk for a moment as a wave of misery swept through me. No. Not until I had proof.

Pushing away those dire thoughts, I straightened. “I’ll meet you guys there. You’re slowing me down.” I sprinted down the trail.

They picked up their pace and we reached the Lily cluster a few hours after dawn.

“There’s no sign Kerrick came this way,” Quain said, examining the ground.

I shot him a nasty look.

Loren punched him in the arm. Hard.

“What?”

Ignoring them, I pulled off my cloak and knapsack, setting them down. I moved closer and studied the six Lilys. The cluster grew among the trees. Giant white man-size flowers topped thick green stalks. Thorny vines jumbled below and the scent of honey and lemons filled the air. Get too close to a Death Lily and either the petals snatched you or the vines ensnared you and pulled you in. Once trapped, you couldn’t escape even if armed with a sharp knife. The thick and fibrous petals and leaves resisted punctures and tears.

Death Lilys moved fast for a plant, hissing a warning a second before they grabbed their victims. Once you were caught, it pricked you with two barbs and injected its toxin. One of three things happened next. You die, and it feeds off your flesh, spitting your bones out when it’s finished. Or you don’t die, it spits you out, and you suffer horribly, dying later. Then there are the very few who don’t die at all and become healers. Like me.

On the opposite side, Peace Lilys wouldn’t capture a person or bother anyone. As far as I know, Flea and I were the only people they’d taken. And here was another irony—Tohon used Peace Lily serum to create his dead soldiers. The serum preserved the dead body in a fake life so they didn’t decompose. His magic did the rest, but I still hadn’t figured out how.

“Stay away from that one.” I pointed to the Lily farthest southwest. “That’s the Death Lily.”

“How can you tell?” Quain asked. “They all look the same.”

“Death Lilys have a faint odor of anise when you get closer, and Peace Lilys smell like vanilla. If you smell anise, then you’re within range of its vines.”

“Oh, so anise will be the last thing you smell before you’re plant food. Good to know.” Quain backed up a step.

“Now what?” Loren asked.

“I’ll see if any will open for me.” When I had returned to the Peace Lily that held Flea’s body, it had bent down and deposited him onto the ground. Perhaps one of these would drop Kerrick. Every fiber of my being hoped so.

Please be here.

I approached the closest and waited. Please be here.

Nothing happened. Not a twitch of a vine nor a rustle of a petal.

After a few minutes, I moved to the next. Please be here.

And the next. Please.

And the next. Be.

And the last. Here!

The Peace Lilys ignored me. “Please?” I said to it, hoping it would take me and explain as one had after it had refused my sister. I’d gotten the impression that the Peace Lilys were all one being with each flower an extension of it, like fingers. Same with the Death Lilys, but with another being at its core.

Still nothing.

Loren gestured to the flowers. “What’s going on?”

Crushing disappointment and grief, but no need to state the obvious. “I’ll see if I can find out.” I walked over to the Death Lily.

“Uh, Avry,” Quain said. “Are you sure that’s a good—”

A loud hissing drowned out the rest of his words. In a flash, white petals surrounded me, blocking all light and noise. In the darkness, two barbs pricked my upper arms and the toxin flowed into me like a soothing elixir. Escaping my pain-filled body, my consciousness floated free and I connected with the thoughts and contented feelings of the Lily.

Welcome back. A surge of pride. More? Thinking I wanted its toxin sacks, it showed me a mental picture of another cluster of Lilys nearby.

No, thank you. I formed a picture of Kerrick in my mind. Seen him?

A flood of images hit me. Kerrick running through the woods, hunting, walking with Belen, Flea, and the monkeys, holding me in his lap, blending into the woods, using his magic. They tumbled one right after the other, threatening to drown me.

Stop, please! I concentrated on how he’d looked that night without his shirt, feeling sick. Did he come here?

He stopped. Sorrow flowed.

Stopped where? If I could just find his body, I might—

Gone into the green.

Where?

A vision of the entire forest filled my mind. It was empty. However, I refused to believe it. The barbs pulled away and the Death Lily set me on the ground. I huddled there in utter misery for a moment, then gathered every bit of strength I had left.

I still had no proof. Gone in Death Lily speak could mean he left the forest or was in a cave. It didn’t have to mean he... No. Not going to go there. Not yet.

Quain and Loren hovered as close as they dared, their expressions hopeful.

“He didn’t come here,” I said, standing.

I glanced away. Bad enough to feel the grief burning inside me, I didn’t need to witness that same pain reflected in my friends’ eyes.

“What now?” Quain asked in a quiet voice.

“We go back to the infirmary cave. I’ve patients to check on.”

“And Kerrick?” Loren touched my shoulder.

“We keep searching.”

Taking another route back, we reached the cave after sunset. Ryne had arrived. He sat by the fire intently listening to Flea and Odd. I exchanged a glance with the monkeys.

“Did you send a messenger?” I asked Loren.

“Kerrick did when we returned from our...uh, encounter with Tohon and the others. Thought Ryne should know what happened, especially about Cellina’s takeover.”

It made sense. Prince Ryne led our ragtag army. He had the military savvy and strategic acumen to counter Tohon. However, he was the last person I wanted to see right now. His genius tactics had caused me quite a bit of pain and suffering over the past few months.

Before Ryne noticed me, I sent the monkeys over to the fire. “Talk to him.”

“What about you?” Quain asked.

“I need to check on my patients. It’s been—” my sluggish thoughts refused to add the hours “—too long.”

Concentrating on the injured soldiers, I moved from cot to cot, talking to the men and women. No new casualties had arrived since yesterday. The caregivers had done a fine job of keeping everyone comfortable and the bandages had all been changed. I consulted with the head caregiver, Ginger. Her capable and no-nonsense attitude was perfect for this type of work.

The floor wobbled under my feet, and I stumbled. I stared at the ground, trying and failing to understand how it had moved. Then the room spun. Ah. Exhaustion had finally caught up to me. “Wake me if you need me,” I said to Ginger.

Keeping to the shadows, I slipped into my cavern. Still empty. The guys had moved out the night before last to give Kerrick and me privacy. It was just as well. I didn’t want company. Before lying down, I pulled Kerrick’s shirt from my knapsack. I pressed it to my face and breathed in his unmistakable scent—spring sunshine and living green.

Tears pushed and my nose filled, but I wouldn’t cry. Not yet. Not until I had proof. I fell asleep clutching his shirt tight.

* * *

“Avry.” A voice shattered my dream.

With effort, I opened one eye. Ryne knelt next to me.

“Go away,” I mumbled, rolling over.

“Avry, we need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. Go away.”

“You can’t avoid me.”

True. I sighed. “We’ll chat in the morning, before the search parties go out. Okay?”

“I’ve called off the search.”

I sat up, turning. “What? Why?” Fury blew away the sleep fog.

He reached for my hand, but I jerked back. Ryne settled back on his heels. “He’s gone, Avry.”

“No. You’re wrong.”

“I wish I was, really I do.” Ryne pushed a lock of his brown hair from his tired hazel eyes. Worry lines creased his face and he appeared much older than twenty-seven—the same age as Kerrick. “Remember that book on magicians I have?”

“Couldn’t forget that.” I didn’t bother softening my sarcasm. His school textbook on magicians and their powers had led to Ryne leaving me behind to be caught in Tohon’s nasty trap. I shuddered at the memory.

He ignored my tone. “It reports that forest mages go into the woods when they die. And their bodies disappear.”

“No. Not buying it. What if they’re in a city?”

“Avry, it fits. You know it. Death Lily toxin is lethal. He died in the woods and the living green reclaimed its gift to him.”

“No.”

“Then why can’t we find his body? And if he didn’t die, why isn’t he here? You know Kerrick, he would never just leave you.”

“No. No. No. No!” I screamed the last one. And with that one word, all the emotions I’d been suppressing burst from my core. I collapsed as great gasping sobs pounded my body.

CHAPTER 3

I woke in Ryne’s arms. He was curled next to me. It took me a moment to remember what had led to this. Ah, yes. Ryne insisting Kerrick was gone. The suffocating pain returned, pressing my chest as if I lay under the Nine Mountains. Groaning, I rolled away.

Ryne pushed up to one elbow. “Avry, are you—”

“Don’t ask. Ever.” I grabbed my boots and left.

After checking on my patients, I searched for Loren. He sat with the group around Ryne. They’d probably been discussing military tactics, but I didn’t care. I caught Loren’s attention and gestured for him to join me. He nodded and slipped away.

His face tight with concern, Loren approached me as if I’d attack him. I would have laughed if the circumstances had been different.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Do you still have the map with the search areas marked on it?”

“Yes. Why?” He shifted, wary again.

“I need it.”

“But Ryne—”

“I don’t care what he said. I’m not giving up until I have proof. Can you get it for me, please?”

His shoulders drooped, but he shuffled off to fetch it. I consulted the Lily map and located the cluster the Death Lily had pointed out last night.

Loren returned with the map and Ryne.

I glared at Loren before snatching the map. Ignoring Ryne, I scanned the search grids.

“Avry, you’re needed here,” Ryne said.

“No, I’m not. My patients are doing fine.”

“What if more casualties arrive?”

“I’ll be back by nightfall.” I folded the maps and tucked them under my arm.

Ryne trailed me to my cavern and watched as I organized my pack, removing Kerrick’s boots. Debating about my cloak, I left it behind and strode for the cave’s exit.

“I can order you to stay here,” Ryne said, hurrying to catch up.

“You can.” I kept moving.

He huffed. “I can order the guards to stop you.”

“You can.”

By this time Loren, Quain, and Flea had joined Ryne.

“Avry, you’re not going to find Kerrick. He’s gone,” Ryne said.

I stopped and turned. Suppressing the desire to punch Ryne in the mouth, I asked, “Who said I was going to search for Kerrick?”

They all blinked at me in surprise.

“You need more toxin sacks, right?” I asked. “Or did Wynn lie about that, too?”

“We do need more, but—”

“So what’s the problem? I’m going out to collect them. Unless you know someone else who can harvest them from the Death Lilys?” I waited.

“Uh...” Ryne rubbed a hand over the stubble on his cheeks. “All right, you can go, as long as you take the monkeys with you.”

“I’m going, too,” Flea said, shooting us all a stern look that dared us to argue with him. At least he had more color in his face today.

“Fine. But hurry up, we’re burning daylight.”

They scrambled to get their weapons and packs.

Ryne stared at me. “Don’t go too far. There are still enemy patrols to the south and west.”

“And we can easily avoid them. They all sound like a herd of drunken deer.”

“But for how long? Wynn is working for Cellina now. She learned how to be quiet in the woods and it won’t be long before she’s teaching Cellina’s soldiers.”

Good point. And she’d learned that skill from me. Another ramification of her betrayal. However... “It’s only been a couple days.”

“Still worth considering. In fact, now that Cellina’s in charge, it’s even more dangerous to be out there. We’ve no idea what she’s planning.”

“And you knew Tohon’s plans?”

“Yes. He wanted to conquer all the realms and be king. Not hard to figure out his next move. Cellina, on the other hand, is more of a mystery. Plus she has Wynn’s information. We’ll have to relocate the infirmary and my headquarters as soon as possible. And until I get intelligence on her movements, it’s best for everyone to lie low.”

If he was trying to scare me, it wouldn’t work. “We’ll be extra careful.”

Ryne frowned.

The guys returned and we left the cave.

“Which way?” Loren asked me.

I touched the greenery, seeking Kerrick’s magic. Disappointment jabbed. “East. And keep a sharp eye out.”

“For what?” Flea scanned the forest.

“Lilys. Right, Avry?” Quain asked with a sad smile.

“Yes. We’re searching for Lilys.”

“Oh.” Flea hefted his pack. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

* * *

Although we found nothing that first day, we continued to seek Lilys after my morning rounds each day. I harvested a few toxin sacks, but not near enough to neutralize the thousands of dead soldiers or to stop our daily excursions. Wounded arrived sporadically as Ryne’s soldiers encountered Cellina’s. Odd returned to patrolling with the odd squad, and Ryne relocated his headquarters. The prince’s men continued to scout for an alternate infirmary site.

The burning knot of misery that had lodged in my chest consumed a little more of me each day.

After a week of Lily hunting, Loren spread the map on his lap and said, “We’ve covered all of the area around the infirmary. We’d have to camp overnight to reach new territory.”

Quain and Flea glanced up from their bowls. They’d been shoveling food since we’d returned from our latest sweep. We sat around the hearth.

I ignored Loren’s implication. “Okay. We’ll bring our bedrolls tomorrow.”

He paused for a moment. “But the odds of finding...er...a Lily that far away are high.”

“You can stay here, Loren. I’m not giving up.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

“Then why did you bring it up?” I demanded.

“Because it needed to be said. And while you don’t want hear it, it’s true. But if this is what you need to do...then we’ll go with you. However, I plan to be the voice of reason whether you like it or not.”

Flea and Quain ducked their heads. Cowards.

“I’m not giving up,” I said again. Jabbing my spoon into my soup, I swirled the contents around. My appetite was nonexistent since Kerrick had disappeared.

“Okay. Do you want to go farther east or check along that stream to the north?” Loren asked, pointing to the map.

Neither place had any Lilys nearby. “Stream to the north.”

“We’ll need a full day to get there. How soon can you leave tomorrow?”

We spent the remainder of the evening discussing our plans.

Before I turned in for the night, I checked my patients. Most were already asleep, but one of the new arrivals remained awake. He had fallen into a ditch and broken his left leg below the knee. Ginger had immobilized it in a splint. Although he claimed he felt fine, there was no mistaking his stiff movements and tight expression.

I consulted with the caregiver on duty. “Has anyone given Private Davin medicine for the pain?”

“Yes, he drank a cup of bittwait.”

“How long ago?”

“Right after supper.”

He shouldn’t be in pain. I returned to his bedside. Davin had been carried in this morning. I’d done a quick visual exam, spotted the broken leg and let Ginger do the rest. Perhaps I’d been too quick. Healing magic gathered in my core. When I placed my hand on his forehead, I let my magic flow into Davin.

His leg was broken in two places, not one, and he had a couple cracked ribs and a sprained ankle. No wonder a single cup of bittwait hadn’t worked. I fetched the caregiver and, after he drank another cup, we wrapped his ribs and ankle and also immobilized his entire leg. I stayed with him until the crinkles on his forehead relaxed and he fell asleep.

Guilt throbbed along with the ever-present grief inside me. If I hadn’t been so anxious to leave this morning, I’d have used my magic and known the extent of the young man’s injuries. He wouldn’t have suffered all day.

Wide awake, I lay next to the small fire in my cavern, staring at the flames. Our plans for tomorrow meant I’d be gone for two days at least. And for what? To keep my hope alive? To do something, anything, just so I could say I wasn’t giving up. Stopping the search didn’t have to mean I’d given up hope. Or accepted his death.

We were at war, and my patients needed me here. And I couldn’t forget about my promise to Mom, the innkeeper of the Lamp Post Inn. She had done so much for me, creating my disguise so I could go undercover in Estrid’s army. I’d promised her I’d keep her daughter, Melina, safe. Melina had been conscripted into Estrid’s army and then sent to the monastery in Chinska Mare for not being a virgin. While Melina was safe from the war, there was no way I’d let her stay incarcerated.

I’d tell the guys my decision in the morning. At least now I’d have time to figure out a way to rescue Melina while Flea and I experimented to learn the extent of his magic.

Even after making the difficult decision, sleep still eluded me. I considered other hard decisions and wondered what Cellina would do about Tohon. She had to know I’d refused to heal him. Unless... I sat up. Unless she had Kerrick!

We’d assumed she’d retreated to safety after our encounter. But what if she’d doubled back? What if she’d seen Kerrick leave the cave and captured him? What if Sepp put him into a magical stasis so Cellina could negotiate with me? Kerrick’s life for Tohon’s.

I wilted. She would have sent a messenger by now. And I wouldn’t heal Tohon. Not even for Kerrick. Or Belen. If he was her prisoner, which we hadn’t confirmed. Plopping back on my bedroll, I endured another bout of sorrow and wished my healing power could heal a broken heart.

* * *

In the morning, I gathered my determination. Moping wouldn’t change a thing. However, actions would. I focused on the positive. For example, Flea’s magic. If Belen had been touched by Sepp, we had a way to free him.

The monkeys and Flea weren’t surprised by the change in plans. A sad acceptance emanated from their hunched postures. Flea bent his head so his long bangs covered his eyes.

“Don’t give up,” I said. “I’m not. Kerrick’s the most stubborn person we know. He’ll show up one way or another. But for now, we need to concentrate on Flea.”

Flea glanced up. “Me?”

“Yes.” I sat next to him. “We need to determine the extent of your new ability and figure out if you’re a true death magician. We know you can break a stasis, but can you put someone in one?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Then we’ll need a volunteer.”

The three of us looked at Quain.

Quain put his hands up. “Hold on. I’ve already gone through it.”

“Which makes you the expert,” Loren said. “You can tell us if Flea did it right or not.”

“It’s the ‘or not’ that I’m worried about,” Quain said.

“Sepp said he can’t take a life like Tohon could, but he can freeze life in a fake death,” I explained.

“But how do I do that? When Quain was frozen, I had this weird compulsion to touch him. And when I did—” he grimaced at the memory “—it felt like my stomach turned inside out. It was the same when you were in trouble. I got this...sour feeling. But right now, I’ve got nothing.”

“Maybe you need to concentrate on it,” I suggested. “Think about pausing his life.”

“Uh, I don’t like the sound of that.” Quain scooted away from Flea.

“It doesn’t hurt, you big baby,” Loren said.

“Then why don’t you volunteer?”

“That’s enough,” I said to the monkeys. “This is important. If he’s able to do it, it’ll save lives.”

“I’ll try.” Flea closed his eyes. He twisted his shirt in his hands. After a minute, he opened them. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“Try again, but this time, put your hand on Quain’s arm,” I said. “Quain, push your sleeve up.”

Frowning, Quain exposed a muscular forearm. His loose shirt hid his powerful build, but the muscles on his neck bulged with tension. Flea rested his fingers on Quain’s arm, closed his eyes again and pressed his lips together.

We waited.

Flea gasped and jerked his hand away. He stared at Quain in horror.

Quain looked confused. “Did he pause me?”

“No,” Loren said.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Flea.

“I—I think...I’m going to be sick.” Flea dashed out of the cave.

I chased after him. He bent over a bush, vomiting. When he finished, he sank to the ground. Kneeling next to him, I put my hand on his sweaty forehead. My magic didn’t stir. At least he wasn’t truly sick.

The monkeys hovered by the cave’s entrance. When Flea spotted Quain, he squeaked in alarm. I gestured to them, waving them back inside. Sitting back on my heels, I dropped my hand.

“What happened, Flea? Talk to me, please.”

He drew in a deep breath, then met my gaze. I almost glanced away. His light green eyes shone with pain and grief. His haunted expression looked straight through me for a moment. “You can’t tell Quain. Promise me.”

Uh-oh. “I promise.”

“I saw his death. When, where, how. All the gory details.”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Flea.”

He shook his head. “Not your fault. I need to learn... But I’m not going to tell him or anyone else. Not now. Okay?”

“Yes. We’ll stop experimenting. Ryne has that book—”

“No. I need to know what else I can do. It’s too important.” He took my hand and relaxed a bit. “Touch is still okay.” He gave me a half smile. “Guess I need to concentrate in order to see. And, truthfully, I never want to do it again.”

“You don’t have to.” And at the moment, I couldn’t think of a reason he’d need to. Except... “Uh, Flea. Can you at least tell me...”

“Not soon. He’ll be annoying us for a while.”

I sagged against Flea. “Good. I don’t think I’d survive if I lost another friend.”

“Me, either.”

We sat together for a while. When we returned to the cave, the monkeys hustled over. Flea took a step back, but then recovered.

“What happened?” Loren asked.

“Flea threw up, but he’s okay,” I said.

“Why did you get sick?” Quain asked.

Flea shrugged, but wouldn’t meet Quain’s gaze. “I guess when I try to use my magic, it makes me sick.”

A lame excuse and Loren was too smart to fall for it. But I gave him a pointed look and he dropped the subject.

Flea accompanied me during my afternoon rounds.

“Another aspect of Sepp’s magic is he could tell if an injured or sick man would die from his injuries,” I said.

“Isn’t that what I just did with Quain?” Flea hugged his arms to his chest.

“Not quite. Quain’s healthy. Sepp called death a threshold. He said he could see what caused a person to cross over the threshold and also sense if they’re close to crossing. He never mentioned being able to see into a person’s future. And knowing Sepp, he would have bragged about it and used it to his advantage.”