Cursed Bones

chapter 26



Hector woke Isabel quietly just before dawn. The darkness surrounding them was still crackling with lightning flies, but Hector was far more concerned about something else. He pointed silently into the jungle.

Isabel had to look carefully before she saw it—the light of a torch, then another. She motioned for Hector to wake Ayela, then she roused Shadowfang with her mind while she strapped on her boots and sword.

“We’re going to have to fight,” she said. “We can’t risk the jungle with all of these lightning flies.”

“So how did they manage to travel through the night without being eaten alive?” Horace asked.

“Their torches would have kept the lightning flies at bay … mostly, anyway,” Ayela said. “I’m sure they’ve been bitten more than a few times.”

She drew her dagger and fished a vial of thick black liquid from her pouch. Carefully, she drizzled her blade with the liquid, then held her dagger over the fire until it dried, forming a coating on her blade.

“What’s that?” Horace asked.

“Poison,” Ayela said.

“Oh,” Horace said, inching away from her.

The jungle started to lighten and the torches grew closer.

“Spread out and hide,” Isabel said. “We don’t want to let them take us with crossbows. Attack when you see my light-lance.”

Hector and Horace nodded, disappearing into the jungle just outside the clearing. The lightning flies seemed to sense the coming dawn and had almost completely disappeared by the time the soldiers approached the camp.

Isabel waited until they were close before she cast her shield spell, but then held her place, waiting for just the right moment to strike. Six women slipped into the camp, warily looking around as they approached the fire, inspecting the ground for any sign of where their quarry had gone. Isabel started to whisper the words of her light-lance spell, allowing her anger to boil into tightly controlled rage.

The wraithkin appeared in the midst of the women. Isabel smiled fiercely as she unleashed her spell, burning a hole through the side of his head the size of an apple. Hector and Horace swept into the six women a moment later, dual short swords drawn and flashing in the firelight.

Four of the women immediately formed a battle line, raising shields and swords to face the attack, while the other two faced away from the line, searching the jungle for any sign of additional enemy.

Hector and Horace split, each targeting a soldier on the outside of the line. Hector raced toward the soldiers recklessly as if he was going to crash into the shields and expose himself to their blades, but at the last moment he transformed into vapor and slipped through the line, solidifying a moment later behind them and stabbing the surprised woman in the back before rolling around the outside of her dying body and facing the next soldier in the line.

Horace skirted around the edge of the line, forcing his opponent to turn to face him before lunging toward her with his leading blade. When she stepped back to brace herself, she tripped over Horace’s invisible servant, falling into her companion and knocking her over as well. Horace darted in and stabbed her in the lower leg, then backed off, circling around toward the front of the now broken line, looking for his next opportunity to strike.

The woman screamed in pain from the leg wound. At the same time, one of the two soldiers guarding the rear of their hasty formation screamed in fear. Shadowfang lunged at her, swatting her shield aside and going for her throat. With three of their number wounded or dead in seconds, the remaining three women of the Regency Army chose to flee. The first ran straight into Ayela, who stepped into view too late for the woman to stop, crouched down low to avoid a shield smash and stabbed her in the leg before rolling to the side. The woman stumbled, whipping her sword around in a clumsy strike that was several feet too high before stopping suddenly, realization slowly spreading across her face.

“You poisoned me,” she said, falling to the ground.

The soldier that had fallen under Horace’s opponent scrambled to her feet and looked at Hector and Horace wildly, trying to watch them both as they positioned themselves to split her focus. She lunged at Horace, exposing her back to Hector. When Horace blocked, Hector struck, stabbing her in the base of the skull just under her helmet and killing her almost instantly.

The last remaining soldier was nearly to the edge of the clearing when Isabel burned a hole through her, leaving only the wounded soldier left, her leg bleeding profusely, her face already pasty white.

“Hector, Horace, search the fallen for anything of use,” Isabel said, linking her mind with Slyder. A quick survey of the area told her that the bulk of the Regency force was still a half a day behind.

“What about her?” Ayela asked, pointing to the wounded woman.

“What are your orders?” Isabel asked the woman.

She just scowled at her.

“Fair enough,” Isabel said. “Let me guess. You were sent to kill the Sin’Rath and the House of Karth.”

The woman clenched her jaw and almost flinched.

“I’ll leave it up to you, Ayela,” Isabel said. “She came to kill your family. Do we kill her quickly or leave her for the jungle?”

Ayela frowned as the weight of the decision settled on her but she didn’t hesitate for long.

“I would like to leave her to the jungle,” Ayela said, “but we can’t afford the risk that she might survive and make a report to the other soldiers.”

Isabel nodded approvingly, then looked at Horace. In a blink, he stabbed the woman in the side of the neck.

After an hour on the move, Ayela stepped up beside Isabel. “Is it always so easy?” she asked.

“What exactly?” Isabel asked.

“Fighting and killing,” Ayela said. “I’ve seen you in a fight twice and both times your enemies didn’t have a chance. Both times they died so quickly.”

“The killing is never easy,” Isabel said. “It stays with you, even when it needs to be done, even when the only choice is to kill or die, it stays with you, puts a mark on your soul. As for the fighting being easy, it isn’t. Both times you’ve seen me fight, I had the benefit of surprise and that makes all the difference.”

“So then a fair fight would be harder,” Ayela said.

Isabel stopped and fixed Ayela with her piercing green eyes.

“Hear me well,” she said, “there’s no such thing as a fair fight. You asked me to teach you how to fight … well, consider this your first lesson. Don’t ever fight for glory or honor or pride. Only fight to protect life and liberty. If you do that, then any tactic is acceptable. Give your enemy no mercy and no quarter. Kill them quickly, by whatever means you can, and don’t ever let the notion of fairness enter your mind.”

Isabel started walking again. Ayela was silent for the rest of the morning while they trudged through the jungle. It had started raining gently, a kind of heavy mist that penetrated everything. By midday, the jungle was dripping wet and they were soaked to the bone. Hector found a rock outcropping with a patch of dry ground large enough for them to stop and rest.

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” Ayela whispered.

Isabel put her hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s hard, but you did well,” she said.

“If I may ask,” Hector said.

Ayela nodded.

“If you’ve never killed before, then why are you carrying such a virulent poison?”

She shrugged. “I learned how to make blackwort many years ago and sometimes my brother will ask me for tinctures and even poisons when he doesn’t want to bother making them himself, so I try to keep such things in my workroom. When I knew I would be leaving with you, I thought it might be useful to bring it along.”

“I was impressed with how quickly it took effect,” Horace said.

“Me too,” Isabel said. “Is it difficult to make?”

“Not really,” Ayela said. “Many tribes use it on their darts, so it’s a well-known recipe. It’s a mixture of three different ingredients: two types of mushrooms and a kind of lichen. All three are poisonous if eaten, but when mixed correctly, they make blackwort, one of the most fast-acting and deadly poisons known in the jungles of Karth.”

“If we have the time and you can find the ingredients, I’d like you to show me how it’s made,” Isabel said.

“I’d be happy to, but wouldn’t it just be easier to use your magic if you want to kill someone?”

“When you’re at war, you can never have too many weapons,” Isabel said, hoisting her pack. “We’d better get moving.”

“At least we don’t have to worry about lightning flies anymore,” Ayela said. “They hate the rain.”

“Good to know,” Hector said, taking the lead.

They walked steadily for the rest of the day, stopping shortly before dark when they found a large fallen tree that created a natural shelter and offered a patch of dry ground to sleep on. After a few minutes of work, they’d built a cozy space just big enough for the four of them to sleep and enclosed enough that they felt safe building a fire to warm themselves and dry their clothes.

The rain had stopped late in the afternoon, but the jungle was still dripping wet and the brush they’d been traveling through had kept them soaked. Isabel was grateful for the simple luxury of warmth and a hot cup of tea.

Alexander appeared while they were breaking camp the next morning.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about me,” Isabel said.

“You know better than that,” he said. “I’ve been attending to a few other matters of pressing importance.”

“Is everything all right?” Isabel asked, suddenly worried.

“Not really,” Alexander said, “but when has it ever been?”

“Anything you want to talk about?” she asked.

“Nothing I can tell you right now,” he said. “I’ve done some scouting. The two Regency forces are still coming, the first is less than half a day away and the second, larger force is two days back. The hunting party from Karth is gaining on you. The witches with them seem to know where you are, so they aren’t bothering with your trail. Instead, they’re coming straight for you, as much as the jungle will allow, anyway.”

“Any chance you could distract them again?” Isabel asked.

“I tried already,” Alexander said. “The witches have figured out that I’m just a projection, so they’re not falling for that anymore.”

“How far is the swamp?” she asked.

“At least a day, maybe more,” he said. “The jungle looks pretty thick between here and there.”

“Will we make it before they reach us?”

“You won’t have much time to work on a raft before the first Regency hunting party gets to you,” Alexander said. “Fortunately, there are only ten left.”

“We killed six plus the wraithkin,” Isabel said. “The jungle must have gotten another four.”

“I’m glad you got the wraithkin,” Alexander said. “I’ve been worrying about him.”

“Me too,” Isabel said. “If we can ambush the rest of them, maybe we can buy some time to build that raft before the Karth hunters arrive.”

“Is my brother with them?” Ayela asked.

“I don’t know,” Alexander said. “Can you describe him?”

“Black hair and dark eyes, tall, but thin and wiry. If he’s with them, he’d be leading the men.”

“He’s there,” Alexander said. “The two witches only talk to him, completely ignoring the rest of the men, and he seems totally charmed by them.”

“Isabel, promise me you won’t kill my brother,” Ayela said.

“Ayela, if we have to fight them, I’m going to focus all my efforts on killing those two witches. With them gone, I’m hoping the men will come to their senses.”

Ayela nodded. “He and my father are all that’s left of my family. I can’t lose them.”

“I understand how you feel, Ayela,” Alexander said. “Let’s focus on avoiding them, all right?”

She nodded.

“I’ll be back when I have more information,” he said, fading out of sight.

Despite their fatigue, they pushed hard for most of the day, trying to widen their lead over the Regency soldiers, hoping to avoid a confrontation or to at least buy the time they needed to prepare an ambush if it came to that. As they neared the edge of the swamp, the jungle seemed to grow denser, the trees larger, ancient and wild. Isabel started to feel like each footstep was a trespass, an affront to a place that wanted to be untamed.

When the jungle gave way to a clearing occupied by a giant tree, she started to get the feeling that they were being watched. Then she saw Shadowfang perched atop a stout trunk that rose twelve to fifteen feet and split into five giant branches, each radiating away from the base and extending toward the sky. The jaguar’s tail was flicking about and his yellow eyes were fixed on a spot in the jungle.

Isabel looked where he was looking but saw nothing.

“What is it?” Hector asked.

“I’m not sure,” Isabel said, “but I don’t like it.”

As one, Hector and Horace drew swords and fanned out, searching for any sign of threat. The jungle was deathly silent, all of the birdsong, buzzing of insects, and chattering of small mammals silent.

Isabel started casting her shield spell.

“We’re being stalked,” Ayela said, drawing her dagger, black with poison.

“By what?” Hector asked.

Before anyone could answer, a shimmer raced toward them from out of the jungle, more like a blur in the air than a distinct shape. It hit Hector, knocking him to the ground, the raptor becoming almost visible. It was large, easily seven feet tall, with razor-sharp talons and a long snout opening in a powerful mouth filled with rows of needlelike teeth. It snapped at Hector but he became a cloud of vapor, and the beast roared in frustration.

Then the spot in the jungle where Shadowfang had been watching started to move toward them—it looked almost like a mirage, but fast and deadly.

Horace stabbed the chameleon lizard twice in the side, once with each short sword. It flinched and roared in pain and fury before racing away into the jungle, vanishing from sight before it reached the cover of the dense foliage.

Then Isabel was hit from behind. The attack came without warning, knocking her to the ground and pinning her beneath the beast as it snapped at her head, its teeth landing on her shield instead. It leapt back in frustration, turning its attention to Ayela. Isabel called out to Shadowfang.

Isabel and Hector regained their feet at the same time. The beast leapt on Ayela, shoving her to the ground, her struggling impotent against its weight and strength. Isabel released a force-push spell, knocking the beast off Ayela, but not before it raked her with its talons, leaving six deep gashes across her chest and shoulders.

Hector faced the beast charging toward them with swords at the ready, but Shadowfang reached it first, hitting it broadside and tumbling to the ground in a furious whirl of claws and fangs. They separated, both bleeding but both still focused on the other as they circled.

“Hector, Horace, get Ayela into the tree,” Isabel shouted.

She cast a light-lance at the chameleon lizard, but instead of burning through it, the focused beam of intensely hot light hit the creature and refracted in every direction, creating a brilliant display that lit up the surrounding jungle. The chameleon lizard turned and bolted away. Before Shadowfang could follow, Isabel ordered him back to the tree.

Hector transformed into vapor and gently floated up to the crook in the giant tree. A moment after he retook solid form, Horace tossed a rope up to him, then looped the trailing end around Ayela’s waist. He quickly climbed the tree and he and Hector pulled Ayela up to safety while Isabel watched the jungle for any sign of the chameleon lizards.

She didn’t have to wait long. Two of the creatures came at her from different angles. She could hear their rhythmic footfalls more than she could see them. Bracing herself against the trunk of the tree, trusting her shield to hold, she drew her sword and waited. A moment later she was knocked sideways by the first, landing hard and trying to roll out of the way when the second pounced, landing on top of her and pinning her to the ground, trying to crush her skull with its powerful jaws.

Her shield held, but only just. She could feel it failing under the force of the attack. Looking into the mouth of the beast, she stabbed wildly with her sword, hitting the lizard in the leg, not deeply, not seriously, but enough to get its attention.

It leapt back in pain and surprise, opening the way for the second to attack. It landed on top of her, one foot to the side and the other on her chest. When her shield failed, its talons gouged holes into her armor, piercing her flesh. Then Hector was there, stabbing the creature in the side, driving his blade deeply into its chest and pushing it off Isabel.

She struggled to her feet. The lizard roared in frustration at Hector, who was now facing it, swords drawn.

“Get to the tree,” Hector said.

Isabel didn’t hesitate. She reached the rope and expended the last of her strength scrambling to the relative safety of the tree just as the first of the three chameleon lizards reemerged from the jungle, racing toward her. It leapt for her, missing her by inches, snapping at the air and clawing at the side of the tree.

Horace took her hand and shouted to his brother, “I have her!”

Hector transformed into vapor and floated into the tree, leaving the two chameleon lizards below, wounded and circling, hissing in fury at the narrow escape of their prey.

Ayela had lost consciousness, her face was pasty and uncharacteristically white.

“You said you still have healing potions,” Isabel said.

Horace nodded, digging into his pouch for his last of the magical draughts.

“Help her sit up,” Isabel said, gently slapping her face. “Wake up, Ayela, you have to swallow this.”

Ayela blinked and murmured something.

“Tip her head back and hold her nose,” Isabel said, carefully pouring the potion into her mouth. Ayela coughed and sputtered but managed to swallow most of it before slipping back into unconsciousness.

“Take the other,” Hector said, holding the last of the healing potions out to Isabel.

“No. Save it,” Isabel said, stiffly unbuckling her armor. “I’ll just use some of the salve you brought.”

Hector handed her a jar barely a quarter full of Lucky’s salve. She carefully spread it into her wounds under her tunic and lay back against one of the giant limbs.

“Keep watch while we’re out,” she muttered, already succumbing to the effects of the magical salve.