The fog of forgetting, p.14
The Fog of Forgetting, page 14
Chase and Knox came closer to Evelyn. Her face was haggard.
“I’m going after her myself if they won’t,” she whispered.
Chase frowned. “We don’t know where she is.”
“You don’t understand; I have to,” said Evelyn. She covered her face with her hands, whispering. “My father told me to take care of her. It was the last thing he ever said to me.”
Knox swiped clumsily at Evelyn’s arm, in an attempt to be comforting. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Figure what out?” asked Calla, who had crept up silently beside them. “You would all do well not to think yourselves wiser than Rothermel. What has happened is terrible, but he has seen worse. He does not treat this disappearance lightly, nor does he think of himself in this matter—only of his duty and his charge,” she chided them, looking straight at Chase. “As the eldest, it might serve you well to do the same.”
They followed Rothermel and the Melorians out of the dell and headed northwest, or as Rothermel had said, deeper into the Wold. Teddy walked with Seaborne, a few paces behind. The forest around them appeared to be growing younger. The immense trees and broad-reaching limbs thinned, and they were now in the midst of chest-high yellow-flowered brush and smaller birch and elder saplings. The ground felt spongy underfoot, and, in places, muddy. Amidst the grass, Knox saw patches of deeper green, low-lying foliage and small clusters of bright blue berries. He stooped down to pick some, turning around to show Evelyn.
“Blueberries?” she asked.
“Looks like it to me,” Knox replied.
“Show Chase.”
Chase was right behind her and took the berries from Knox. He sniffed them, gave them back to Knox, and shrugged. “They seem all right—but don’t eat them until you know for sure.” Calla’s comment about being the eldest was still ringing in his ears.
Knox gave him a wry grin. “Only one way to know for sure!” He tossed one of the berries up into the air and moved under it, his mouth open and waiting. A strong hand shoved him to the side. The berry fell harmlessly to the ground.
“We do not pick, hunt, or eat anything that lives here.”
Knox, embarrassed, asked roughly, “Why not? The birds are eating them.”
Tinator answered without breaking his stride. “This part of the forest and that which we are about to enter mark the site of a battle. It was here that many ancients met their death in the Great Battle. In honor of their memory, Rothermel has granted perpetual springtime to this glen. All that live and grow here may do so unmolested. No unnatural or untimely death may seek them. Should one challenge this decree, they do so at their own peril. Eating those berries would only sicken your heart and cast your mind permanently into shadow.”
Knox looked down at the rest of the berries in his hand and threw them into the bushes. Evelyn pushed past him. Within minutes, the landscape changed again. This time, it felt as if they were entering a forest so very old it was already a memory of itself. Across a wide, broad plain, rows of gnarled trees, bare but for coats of gray, dripping moss, rose against the sky. Knee-deep grass grew in hillocks and the air was dense and stank like rotting vegetation; it penetrated their clothing, driving a swampy blackness straight into the depths of their chests.
“What is this place?” Evelyn cried out in distress, rubbing the spot over her heart.
This time, Calla answered. “This is the deathfield. It stands to remind us of what we have lost and what we have yet to lose should Dankar ever gain the stone of Melor.”
Evelyn stumbled. Chase caught her arm as she tripped. She looked up at him, her brown eyes black with grief. He tried to think of something to say but came up blank.
Seaborne stopped beside them, carrying a sleeping Teddy on his back.
“Best not to linger here,” he prodded. “Carry on.”
Nightfall found the Melorians, the boys, and Evelyn traveling along a wide dirt road cut through sparse woodlands and rolling hills of increasingly cultivated land. To the northeast, a snowcapped mountain range filled the horizon. As the sun passed into the west, the mountains turned a light, then deeper shade of purple. A cluster of round, thatched houses came into view, tucked deftly into low-lying hills. Thin streams of smoke rose from the chimneys. Knox saw a flock of sheep dotting a distant meadow. In between stands of trees, large rectangles of tilled earth, orchards, and undulating crops of grain waved at them as they passed. Rothermel sent a few Melorians to gather food from the nearest houses to supplement their store. He led the rest off the main road, through a thicket of trees, and into the protected meadow of a valley, which lay hidden between two forested hills and abutted a small, reed-filled pond at its far end. This deep into the safety of the Wold, they would build an open fire and cook their first hot meal in days.
“It’s very strange,” Chase said aloud, warming his hands at the edge of the blazing fire.
“What?” Evelyn replied. She was sitting a few feet off. Mara hovered behind her at a comfortably close distance, as she had ever since they’d left Seaborne’s cabin. Chase nodded to the fire.
“That something that feels so good can be so bad.”
Evelyn put her face between her knees, feeling the heat creep over the top of her head. The sharp thing in her chest was jabbing at her, threatening to shred her insides apart. She prayed that Frankie was feeling the good part.
Chapter 15
FARTHER IN
Frankie kept her eyes fixed on the path, stumbling behind the strange man, resting only to eat and drink. She did not see what the Exorian soldiers ate, but took what was offered to her: an orange and another fruit that reminded her of a tomato, and some flat, bland-tasting bread. She ate hesitantly at first, but with more gusto as the day and night went by. The march seemed unending. She stopped asking where they were going, or when they would get there, since the only answers she received were curt, one-word replies.
The first day, the woods they traveled through were familiar enough that her fear began to lift. The man, whom she had taken to calling Louis in her head (a name she remembered from a history book), hinted at the fact that she would see Evelyn and the Thompson boys soon.
Frankie had no idea in what direction they were heading. At one point they crossed a wide river mouth on wooden rafts that the Exorians had stashed in the forest, and then it seemed to her that they turned away from the sea. The forest slowly flattened, and the tree cover became increasingly sparse, interspersed with large, grassy meadows. The air around her was gold in the late afternoon light, and her surroundings felt somehow comforting. She allowed herself to hum under her breath as she walked, one of the songs her father had sung to her when she was a baby. The man—“Louis”—walked behind her. He stopped her, abruptly grabbing her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I’m humming,” replied Frankie, surprised.
“Stop it.”
“Why? What’s wrong with humming?”
“In Exor, such things are forbidden.”
Frankie shook her head, perplexed. “You’re not allowed to hum in Exor? Why? What’s wrong with humming?”
“It is a useless distraction.”
Frankie shrugged. “I like it.” She hummed a little louder.
The man whirled her around to face him.
“What you like doesn’t matter. There is no purpose to it. In Exor, everything must have a purpose.”
“People too?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your purpose?”
“To serve Dankar.”
“Humming stops you from serving Dankar? That doesn’t make any sense. Lots of people hum when they’re doing other stuff.”
The man’s eyes widened. Frankie couldn’t be sure, but she thought his mouth twitched upward. He dismissed her with a wave and indicated for her to get moving. After a moment, he spoke again.
“It doesn’t matter whether it makes sense, only that it is forbidden. Exorians are not allowed to make music.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Frankie. “What else aren’t you allowed to do?”
The man hesitated, then answered by rote. “All Exorians must put Dankar’s wishes and work above their own, and hold no one more dear than he.”
Frankie mouthed the words to herself.
“Exor must be very boring,” she said. “I don’t know who Dankar is, but he sounds mean and selfish. His rules don’t apply to me. I’m not an Exorian.”
The man she called Louis half-smiled again. “I guess that’s true—for the present. Go ahead. Hum while you can.” He pushed past her, and she followed, humming loudly.
After a few minutes, Louis stopped again. “What is it you hum?”
“It’s a song called ‘Frère Jacques’—it’s French.” She sang the words, ending with a loud chorus of “Din-Dan-Don!”
“Shhh,” ordered Louis, casting a look at the mottled backs of the Exorians marching a little ways ahead. He raised an eyebrow. “French?”
“Yes, French. Not everyone speaks English, you know.”
“So, you speak French, too?” Louis asked.
“I used to. In Haiti—where I lived before. My father was from Canada. They speak French there, too. And in France, they speak French, obviously.”
“Walk.” Louis prodded Frankie with his finger. “We speak with one tongue on Ayda. I do not understand how it would be to live amongst those who spoke another.”
“It’s like a code. Once you know what the words mean, it’s the same. Here, I’ll teach you.” She pointed to a tree in the distance. “Tree … l’arbre.” Then to the sky. “Sky … le ciel.” She pointed to Louis. “Man: l’homme.” Then to her pink-clad feet, “Feet: les pieds.”
Louis was silent, thinking.
“Tell me what the song says,” he said.
Frankie was happy to oblige now that he was being nicer to her. She felt sort of sorry for him, not being able to sing or hum or anything. They passed the last hour of daylight with Frankie telling Louis as many French words as she could think of. She walked ahead of him, so she couldn’t see his expression, but he didn’t ask her to stop. When they halted for the night, he gave her an extra orange to eat. She felt confident enough to ask him a few more questions.
“Are we near my sister? Will I see her soon?”
“Soon enough,” Louis answered, but with less coldness than before. “First there is a task for the warriors to complete.”
That night the light shone dimly from a waxing moon above the barest outline of a mountain range lying inland. Frankie was given strict instructions to keep quiet and stay hidden. She slept for a few hours underneath the stooped branches of a small bush, wrapped in her poncho, but was awakened by a sudden awareness of a shift in her surroundings. She knelt and pushed away the leaves to get a better view. What she saw drained any remaining warmth from her bones.
A large group of Exorian warriors, many more than the three that had accompanied them, were amassed in front of Louis. All were armed with broad, spiked shields and tall spears. Two giant black cats threaded their way through the warriors’ legs, tongues panting through their open jaws.
Louis had his head bent toward one of the warriors, listening intently to whatever was being said. By the look of it, some kind of report. Frankie knew, instinctively, that whatever it was, it had to do with Evelyn and the boys. The Melorians must be close. Her heart leapt at the idea. She had to warn them! Maybe she could use a Melorian whistle signal—if she could escape.
Frankie crept across the grass without a sound. She was grateful for the camouflage of her poncho. When she was close enough to Louis to hear his voice, she stopped and moved to the side, hoping he would not look in her direction. The Exorians brought the hilts of their spears down hard on the ground and yelled as one. The tips of their spears burst into flame simultaneously and their eyes flickered orange. The panthers screamed and leapt to the front, baring their teeth. Frankie fell back in fear. When the last whoop of the cry had grown quiet, Louis stepped into the band of light created by the torches. The Exorians turned toward him with their blank, orange eyes and ruined skin. Louis raised his arms over his head in salute.
“In the name of Dankar, Keeper of the stone of Exor, go now and do what you must to bring the outlier children to me—unharmed,” he cried. “Many daylights will be freed tonight—but do not be afraid, brothers—the day we have long awaited approaches.” Louis’s voice grew louder; he walked a few steps back and forth.
“The outliers are to be brought to Dankar. Those who do not heed his bidding shall know the measure of his wrath.” He paused to let this sink in, then repeated: “Deliver them alive and unharmed. Kill the rest.” He looked at the panthers. “And the dogs.”
The Exorians lowered their spears, thudding the ends on the ground, chanting “Ex-or! Ex-or!”
Frankie covered her ears. One of the warriors caught the movement; his head snapped toward her hiding place. The chanting ceased abruptly. Fifty or more pairs of blazing eyes were glued to her. Frankie’s heart stopped. The chanting began again, spears pounding faster and faster. Louis whipped around in alarm.
“Get back!” he yelled.
Frankie quickly retreated into the shadows.
Louis’s voice rose high above the chanting. “Melorian daylights await the release of your torches.” He paced in front of the place where Frankie had lain. “Go! Free the daylights of your brothers and sisters, chained and misled by the lies of Rothermel. Bring the others to me!”
The Exorians shouted in unison and took off in a sprint. They made a burning line as they spread out across the forest floor. Frankie lay flat on the ground, her blood pounding in her ears. After several minutes, she heard Louis calling.
“I know you are here,” he said. His voice was back to normal.
She did not reply.
“Ahh.” He was directly above her. She sighed into the ground and rolled over, looking up into his face.
“That was foolish,” he said flatly
“What are those … those things going to do?” Frankie squeaked. “You talked about freeing daylights and bringing outliers here. You sent them—” She shuddered. “You sent them after my sister?” A surge of rage passed through her, raising her to her feet. “And I … I was beginning to think you were nice!” She felt the blood rush to her face, waves of heat radiating from beneath her hood. She wished she had her knife. She wouldn’t think twice about driving it straight into Louis’s heart, if he even had one.
“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” she screamed, running away from him as fast as she could, trying to follow the line she remembered the Exorians taking, but it was dark and she had no idea where she was going. Branches whipped at her face and her calves as she ran, her legs pumping through the brush. She would find her sister and the boys. She would warn the Melorians. She just had to run a little faster. Her foot snagged on a root and her legs suddenly buckled under her. She pitched forward, tumbling blindly down a steep incline. On instinct, she twisted her body as she rolled to take the force of the impact on her side; her hips and elbows smashed painfully into rocks that lay half-buried in the hill. Finally, she came to a stop, slamming her head hard into the trunk of a tree. For a minute, the night seemed to grow bright with stars; then everything faded into an all-too familiar blackness.
Chapter 16
FLIGHT
Chase had only just fallen asleep when Seaborne was yelling in his ear.
“Get up, boy, now, and man your weapons!”
He tumbled out of his hammock, landing facedown on the ground and struggling to remember where he was. When he raised his head, the campsite was in complete confusion. His first thought was that the fire had not been properly put out, because an explosion of flames as tall as the treetops reached into the air. He could feel the heat on his face even though he was at least fifty feet away. Above the roar of the blaze, he heard the clash of metal against metal.
“Holy crap!” Knox exclaimed, standing above Chase, his eyes wild. He was strapping on his harness. “Look at them!”
A deadly skirmish played out before them, backlit by the fire. Chase could just make out black huddles of quick-moving shapes. Two figures broke free and moved closer. One was a Melorian warrior judging by the man’s height and his helmet. The other, shorter and heavier, held back the rain of blows from the Melorian’s sword. He wore no armor, but wielded a long, pointed shield in one hand and a burning spear in the other. The Melorian redoubled his efforts, but his opponent held his ground, raising the shield and advancing with the burning spear tip. Chase watched helplessly as the flames made contact with the Melorian’s tunic. It burst into flame as if it had been dipped in oil. The Melorian screamed and clawed at the leather straps of his breastplate. He dropped to the ground and rolled. The attacker raised his shield high, ready to strike a killing blow. Chase closed his eyes; he couldn’t bear to watch. An arrow whistled behind his right ear with a high-pitched twang. His eyes shot open. The attacker stumbled and dropped his shield, an arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder. Calla came abreast of the boys, her bow raised.
“An Exorian raiding party!” she yelled. “Gather the others and take them around to the pond.”
Before he could reply, Seaborne whirled out of the flames, his long sword gleaming in the firelight. He looked at Knox, then pulled Chase to his feet.
“Skirt the edges of the fighting, the long way. Keep to the trees. Around there—” Seaborne gesticulated wildly to the forested hem of the meadow to the east.
In a flash, Chase saw the trouble they were in. The Exorians had blocked the only retreat from the V of the valley. The hills were too thick with trees to make an escape, and the pond lay as a barrier at the other end. The only way out was to push the Exorians back toward the main road—and they would not go easy. He’d fallen asleep in what he thought was a safe refuge and awoken to a death trap.
