Bloodthorn Page 13

  Kull pulled his knife free, and Heidel did the same.

  “You know,” Heidel said, “if this is the unicorns’ forest, why have we not seen a single unicorn?”

  “They may not look like what we expect,” I answered. “If their stone is missing, it is said they will turn into dark creatures.”

  Kull eyed me. “What do these dark creatures look like?”

  “I have no idea, although I’m afraid you may have already encountered one.”

  “You speak of the creature that attacked me in Earth Kingdom?”

  “Yes. I don’t know for sure, but Fan’twar said the hair you found came from a unicorn.”

  “The creature that attacked me was no unicorn.”

  Heidel gripped her knife tighter. “But could it have been a unicorn transformed?”

  “It’s a possibility. If that’s so, then the same creatures would be here in this forest, wouldn’t they?”

  “Yes. If the stone is in fact missing, and if they have been transformed, then the same type of creature that attacked you would be here now.”

  “I don’t like this,” Heidel said. “It nearly killed my brother. What would these creatures do to us?”

  “I don’t think we should worry too much. Kull was alone. He would have been an easy target. With the three of us together, we should be safe enough.”

  “I disagree,” Kull said. “You weren’t there when the creature attacked me. It did so with calculated intelligence and waited until I was distracted. It attacked my life’s vein, then retreated. It meant to kill me.”

  Waning sunlight dappled the ground in patches of dark gold. Evening would arrive soon. I wanted to argue with Kull but found I had no proof that what he said was false. No matter how we looked at it, we were in grave danger in this forest.

  “Look over there,” Kull said, pointing to a grove of silver trees up ahead. “I think we’ve found the elder tree grove.”

  We stepped into the dale, where squat trees grew in an area cleared of bushes and briars. Deep plum-colored leaves covered the ground and muffled the sound of our footsteps. Some of the trees had large openings cut into their bark, exposing the hollow center, and others were too small, only large enough for one person to crouch inside. We approached a tree not much taller than the others, but its base was wide enough to fit a small car inside. Glossy purple leaves grew from its branches, fluttering gently in the breeze. Unlike the other trees, its trunk remained intact.

  “It’s big enough,” I said, “but how will we cut through the bark? There were a few elder trees growing in the dragons’ forest, and once, I spent an entire summer trying to break through the bark. I failed miserably. Of course, that may have been because I was using a kitchen knife.”

  Kull pulled his sword free. Bloodbane gleamed in the light cast by the setting sun. He whipped the sword through the air so fast it made it made a swish, and then he cut a precise gash through the tree bark, from the top of the hollow area straight to the ground. Cutting the rest of the bark away took him only a few minutes, and soon we stood before an open, domed tree.

  “Well,” I said, “that’s certainly more efficient than using a kitchen knife.”

  Kull gave me a slight grin—the one that long ago would have made me weak in the knees. Now it shouldn’t have affected me, but it did. My pulse quickened, and I swallowed and looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze.

  “We should find something to cover the opening,” I said, trying to keep my mind distracted.

  “I agree,” Heidel said. “There were some vines I spotted that we could use, and we can gather leaves and bits of broken bark.”

  “We’ll also need a fire,” Kull said. “There’s a chill in the air already. Tonight will only grow colder.”

  “But won’t a fire draw the creatures to us?” I asked.

  “I don’t believe so. If anything, I’m hopeful it will keep them away.”

  We started the process of gathering leaves and vines while Kull collected wood for the fire. I enjoyed the work as it helped keep my mind off other things. The unicorns’ forest wasn’t as grandiose as the dragons’ forest, but its rich, dark colors and abundance of foliage and greenery held a simple beauty of its own. However, there was also an emptiness to it, a void that called to my magical senses—something unnatural and disturbing. I assumed it was because the starstone was missing, but was there something more at play that we didn’t yet understand? Was the story of the witch just a tale born of fear? Or was there some truth to it?

  I recalled the vision I’d seen in Fan’twar’s caves, of the hand encircling the unicorns’ gemstone. What sort of creature did the hand belong to? Was it a unicorn transformed? If so, how did the creature transform before the stone was taken?

  Those were questions I hoped to answer soon, but for now, I focused on the task at hand.

  Heidel walked toward me holding a makeshift door. She’d created an arched wooden structure out of willow-type branches. The latticework was half-filled with wide purple leaves.

  “That’s impressive,” I said. “You must have experience making things like this.”

  “All Wults are instructed in survival.”

  I showed her the pile of twigs and leaves I’d collected. “Will any of these be of use?”

  “Yes,” she answered, “this should be enough to finish.” She gathered my pile and began threading the larger leaves through the woven sticks.

  “May I help?” I asked.

  “No need,” she answered. “This is easier to do with one person.”

  I scanned the woods, trying to find something to keep me occupied. Kull knelt near the elder tree where he’d cleared the ground of leaves as he prepared to make a fire. With nothing better to do, I sat on a log and watched as he arranged the sticks in a teepee formation. The larger logs he’d stacked to the side, and I decided to arrange them in size. As I picked up a smaller stick, Kull eyed me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Ordering them by size.”

  “There is no need for that.”

  “There isn’t?”

  “No, I’ve already organized them how I want them.”

  “Oh.” I returned the stick to the pile and resumed my seat on the downed tree.

  After placing the kindling, Kull pulled two flint rocks from his pack and struck them together. After several attempts, sparks formed but failed to ignite the kindling. Owing to the humidity in the forest, getting a spark to ignite the damp wood would be a tedious process.

  “I can use my magic to start the fire,” I offered.

  “There’s no need.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, I am sure,” he said, angrily striking the stones together. “I have started fires hundreds of times before, and when I am able to concentrate, I will start this one as well. If you’ve nothing better to do, you might as well go refill our water flasks.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “If I’ve nothing better to do?”

  “We need water for our evening meal. This task should be intuitive. Plus, putting water into empty skins is one chore you could do without being instructed, correct?”

  My anger surfaced. “Excuse me? I am not one of your subjects to be commanded.”

  “No, you are not. I should not have to command you at all. I’m merely confused as to why you are not already at the river refilling our water skins.”

  “Have you considered asking before jumping down my throat? And you might want to consider saying please.”

  “If it will get you away from my fire, then fine. Please. Will that do?”

  I balled my fists. I didn’t realize how much anger I harbored toward him until that moment. Magic pulsed hot and strong through my body. It started in my chest and then pooled into my clenched hands. Bright streamers of light flowed around my arms, sticking to my skin like tendrils of spiderweb.

  As much as I wanted to see him writhe in pain and agony and suffer a horrible death, I stopped myself. Opening my hands, I pul
led the magic back inside myself, back to that knot in my chest where I locked my emotions.

  Snatching the water skins off the ground, I turned away from Kull without saying another word. As much as I wanted to hurt him—and I really, really wanted to hurt him—that amount of energy, coupled with my emotions, would kill him. In three seconds.

  Flat.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I clenched the water flask in a white-knuckled grip as I knelt by the river. My knees sank into the cold mud, but the dampness had no effect on me as my anger overpowered any thoughts of discomfort.

  Arrogant, rude, overbearing. I should have killed King Skullsplitter when I had the chance. Bad mannered, flippant…

  Cold water chilled my fingers as I dipped the skin beneath the surface. I refilled the first skin, replaced the cork on top, and picked up the second one.

  Magic radiated through me, charged with an electrical intensity so strong it made my heartbeat go wild. My hands shook as I held the skin beneath the water, but it wasn’t from the cold. He’d wound me up so badly I was certain I would never shake it off.

  I needed to leave. There was no way I could return to the camp in this state. I would have to go back and tell Fan’twar that I wasn’t able to complete the mission. He’d understand. Kull and Heidel could find the starstone without me. Why was I even here in the first place? No one needed me. Not really.

  I finished filling the second water skin and reached for the third when the forest changed. I wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling, except something seemed different. Had it grown darker? Had the sound of birdsong stopped?

  Glancing around the forest, I chided myself for not taking stock of my surroundings when I’d first gotten here. It was a blunder on my part. I knew better than to not pay attention to my environment. I could get lost. I could be attacked.

  Straightening, I scanned the forest. The stream flowed swiftly over smooth stones. Tree roots peeked out from the bank where the water had washed away the soil. The trees’ long branches stretched over the water, and leaves floated on the surface.

  Whatever was causing the forest to seem different wasn’t something I could easily identify. After several wary moments of listening and searching for threats, I returned to filling the water skins. Perhaps a unicorn had wandered by and I’d failed to notice.

  As I filled the skins, my thoughts turned back to King Skullsplitter. How was it that Heidel still followed him? She must be doing it out of fear. If he’d treated her as badly as they’d said, she wouldn’t dare step out of line. It seemed he’d caused everyone to cower before him—even his sister.

  Pompous, arrogant maniac. What had I ever seen in him?

  Footsteps came from the direction of the camp, and Heidel stepped into the clearing. She gave me a brief nod and sat on a log nearby.

  “Hello, Olive.”

  I eyed her. “Heidel, what are you doing here? Weren’t you busy?”

  “I thought my time would be better spent speaking to you.”

  “Speaking to me about what?”

  She crossed her arms, and her silver armguards turned a bronze color in the evening sunlight. “About my brother.”

  “Your time would be better spent mending the door.”

  “I don’t believe so. I understand he’s angered you, and so I shall wait for you to be ready to speak with me.”

  “Really? Then you will be waiting a long time.”

  In all honesty, I was a tad bit curious to know why Heidel still followed her brother, even after the apparent beatings. Although my anger and stubbornness won out, so I turned back to my task and tried to ignore her. Heidel remained sitting on the log. As I continued filling a third water skin, Heidel only stared at me, which made my agitation grow until I finally rounded on her.

  “Heidel, no offense, but I don’t want to have this conversation now. I don’t want to have it ever. I’m sorry you have such a controlling brother. I can’t even begin to understand how hard that must be. But if you’re here for my pity, you won’t get it. If I were you, I would run away from him and never look back.”

  “I’m not here for your pity.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I want to give you advice.”

  I laughed. Advice? From her? From the woman who had not only betrayed me, but had done so twice? She’d told so many lies I had trouble keeping track of them. She’d allied herself with one of the most dangerous men on the planet, aided in the destruction of magic in Faythander, and now she wished to give me advice? Maybe I should let her… this might be interesting.

  “Fine,” I said. “What’s your advice?”

  “You must be patient with my brother. Since my father’s death, many have begun to fear him. Lies and rumors abound of my brother’s brutality, but that’s typical for Wults. It’s been said that the dungeons, which were empty during my father’s reign, are now at capacity. He’s said to beat and maim his servants for simple mistakes. It was even rumored that he beat and starved me, his own sister. There are few who see him as he really is, which only makes it harder for him to overcome our father’s death. He feels that he’s a failure in every way possible and has even contemplated appointing someone else king, as he feels unfit to rule. In truth, our kingdom is safe, and he has prevented much bloodshed because of his tactful negotiations with the elves.

  “Don’t be too hard on him. That’s all I wish to say.”

  I pondered her words. My anger still simmered, but her words weren’t what I’d expected.

  “Did he mistreat you?” I asked.

  “No. But he did visit me often. That was a dark time for me. My injuries were self-inflicted, and I chose not to eat, which may have been how the rumors started. Regardless, when he visited, I admit I was not in my right mind. I said horrible things to him, and I know that my injuries and self-starvation were hard for him to endure.”

  She sighed and looked at the trees overhead. Her voice became distant. “Since I was a young teenager, I had been in contact with Geth. He told me many, many lies, and he damaged me in more ways than I understood. You may think my brother a harsh person, but he’s nothing compared to Geth. I followed him because I feared to leave him. I told no one what he did to me, including my brother.

  “My father’s death was the moment I realized how far I had gone, but even then I wasn’t ready to admit my mistakes. I was imprisoned for assisting Geth, but at the time, I felt that I was made to suffer unjustly. When my brother visited, I spoke harsh, cruel words, for I hoped to make him angry. I told him of every wicked deed that Geth had ever done to me, and I blamed him for not protecting me.

  “Kull found a small wooden bench and placed it outside my cell. Every day, he came and sat on that bench. He listened for hours but never spoke a word. One day, he moved the bench closer, and then a few days later, he moved it closer yet again. But still, he never spoke. He only listened.”

  Her voice wavered, though she didn’t cry.

  “I didn’t realize then how much anger I had been holding inside. Anger for Geth and for his actions, and anger for myself that I hadn’t been strong enough to break free of his grasp. But that’s why Kull never spoke, because he was letting me work through my anger the way I should have all along.”

  “He must have spoken at some point,” I said.

  “Yes, he did. And those words I will never forget. ‘You have had many years of unhappiness,’ he said, ‘but now that time is over. Now, you must be happy. For every day you are happy, you are proving to Geth that he has not won.’”

  I remained silent. Happiness was one emotion I had not felt much lately. It was an elusive feeling, one I imagined would possibly never be part of my life again. And I knew the reason why.

  Kull.

  That chasm at the bottom of my heart was still raw and empty, and I was sure I would never be able to fill it in because Kull would never be mine. But wasn’t there some way to find happiness without him?

  “Heidel,” I asked, my voic
e barely above a whisper, “are you happy now?”

  She paused before speaking. “I am happy more often than not, which is better than my circumstances were before.”

  Her words gave me hope. She’d experienced horrors beyond my comprehension, yet she was happy.

  “I don’t wish to disturb you any longer,” she said. “I will leave you to your task.” She left the clearing without another word.

  After she’d gone, I stared at the half-filled water skins. A feeling of confusion settled in the place where my anger had been. It seemed I’d misjudged Heidel, and perhaps I’d even misjudged her brother.

  Now, instead of feeling anger toward Kull, I felt sorry for him. I hadn’t once thought of things from his perspective. What must it be like for him to rule an entire kingdom before he was ready—and at the same time deal with the death of his father?

  After finishing my task, I gathered the filled skins and made it back to camp. Heidel had returned to patching the door, and a fire blazed in front of the elder tree. Kull sat on the felled log near the fire, and he looked up as I approached.

  I dodged his gaze, feeling sheepish and a little awkward as I laid the water skins on the ground near the fire.

  “Here,” I said. “I can boil the water if you’d like.”

  He paused a moment, then pulled a tin pot from his bag. I took the pot from him and knelt by the fire. Having him so near while I worked made me feel self-conscious. I tried to focus on uncorking the water flask, pouring it into the pot, and placing it on the fire, but I felt his eyes on me the entire time.

  When I finished, I gratefully backed away and let him add a packet of ingredients to the water.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Dried meat and root plants. We use satchels like these on long expeditions and while camping on the battlefield. They are quite handy.”

  “And a bit bland,” Heidel said, seated on a log near the forest’s edge.