Dizziness swirled through him for a brief moment, and he swayed. Sakari stepped forward to help, but Ryne waved him off. He’d grown used to these bouts of lightheadedness over the past few years. This one he could handle.
“What do you think?” Ryne nodded toward the corpse.
“No beast from the Rotted Forest delivered those wounds. And the only stench here is just death,” Sakari said.
“A weapon?”
“None I can think of.”
Ryne grunted his agreement. “And I see no auras around the body so no elements were used. Come let’s see what else we find.”
They searched the area but found nothing else out of place. Still baffled by what could have caused such grievous wounds, they left the stand and headed for home with Mariel still trailing them. With the sun beating down on them, they made a straight line for the sandstone edifice that marked Hagan’s Inn.
“Let me guess,” Dren said, an eyebrow arched. “You’re going to let them know the error of their ways if this foolishness with Forian continues.”
“Something like that,” Ryne admitted, his voice even. “I think Mayor Bertram has downplayed just what kind of response the Tribunal would have if Mariel was harmed.”
In short order, they reached the low wooden wall surrounding the village.
Dren slowed to a walk, his eyes focused toward the woods. He pointed. “Who’s that out there?”
In that instant, a bestial roar pierced the humid afternoon air. Ryne’s head whipped toward the sound, the same direction in which Dren, foot raised in an unfinished step, still pointed.
A boy stood frozen amongst the brush and long grass. The large teak, mahogany, and rosewood trees in the forest before him shook with such violence a rain of leaves fell.
“Kahkon?” Ryne said under his breath, cold fingers of dread slithering down his spine as he squinted at the skinny youth.
A huge beast, at least five the times the size of a large wolf, leaped from the dark woods. The aura about the creature shone with an obsidian blackness instead of its normal gray. Fluids dripped from raw, pink flesh and dark fur splotched black with decay. The infected lapra reared up on four of its six legs like a mantis preparing to attack. A wide, snout of a muzzle and forepaws tipped with sharp claws flashed. Before Kahkon could react, the beast snatched him by a leg. Kahkon screamed. A sound that brought shivers sliding down Ryne’s back. With the same speed it struck, the lapra disappeared back into the trees, the boy a ragdoll in its mouth.
CHAPTER 2
Screams and cries from the villagers who witnessed the taking jarred Ryne into action. “Go!” he yelled to Sakari and Dren. “Fetch Lenka and Keevo. And gather several other hunters from the woods.”
“What about Mariel?” Sakari gestured toward the woman.
“I’ll deal with her. Go! Go!”
“No, Master Waldron. The elders, the villagers…you have to calm them,” Dren implored, his eyes frantic.
“The boy comes first,” Ryne snapped. He rounded on Dren, towering over him like a great cliff, his eyes steel. “I’ll be damned if I have his blood on my hands. If I ever had a son, he’d be like Kahkon. I won’t stand by-”
Dren grabbed at Ryne’s arm. His hands trembled. “You don’t understand, Master Waldron. The way Forian been going at them the last few days, they’ll attack Mariel for sure with this. You know how it was during the War of Remnants. The Tribunal will kill everyone if we harm Mariel. I have a wife, sons…Master Waldron. Please. Look, if we’re to save Kahkon, we can’t afford for them to go traipsing into the Fretian now anyway. We’d be sure to lose the lapra’s tracks. And if they go after Mariel, there’ll be nowhere to hide from the Tribunal’s wrath.” Tears welled up in the scoutmaster’s eyes.
Agonized by the need to save Kahkon, Ryne clenched his fists. Deep down, he knew Dren was right. Kahkon’s survival meant a lot to him, but so did the rest of Carnas. He couldn’t dream of sacrificing one for the other. Both needed him. As harsh as it sounded to himself, right now, staving off whatever malice resided in Carnas must take precedence. He needed to rely on Sakari and the others to find the tracks in time.
Torn, Ryne pulled his arm away from the scoutmaster. “Fine, fine,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You two go. Gather the others. I’ll inform the elders and settle the people down before I come. Sound the horn when you find the tracks. Sakari.” Their gazes locked. “Do not fail.”
“Thank you, Master Waldron,” Dren said reverently.
Without a word, Sakari bowed and ran off with Dren following on his heels. Sakari weaved his way amongst frantically pointing villagers who’d crowded the hard-packed dirt road surrounded by Carnas’ wooden homes. As he raced by, he gestured to two men in armor that matched his. One was a gray-haired, wiry man with a horn at his hip, and the other, a grizzle-faced hunter whose arms were all sinew. They ran after Sakari toward the woods.
Broad back and legs stiff from fighting the urge to chase after them, Ryne turned and stalked in the opposite direction toward Hagan’s Inn. Villagers still pointed and a few young boys had climbed onto a roof and were gazing out toward the Fretian Woods. Concerned chatter flowed among the throngs on the road.
The door to Hagan’s Inn burst open. Mayor Bertram, Hagan, and several other members from Carnas’ village Council rushed outside the three-storied sandstone building. Ryne strode to meet them.
“What’s happening?” Bertram’s scarred face was gaunt and grim. His one good eye scanned the panicked crowd. His left arm, which ended at the elbow, moved on its own accord.
Hagan waddled just behind him, chest heaving, shirt so tight about his barrel-shaped belly it appeared as if it would burst open with his next breath. “Has another body been found?” He popped his pipe into the corner of his mouth and kneaded giana leaves into the bowl.
A flurry of questions spilled from the other Council members. Ryne lifted his hand, and a reluctant silence followed as villagers gathered in a respectful band around the elders.
“No, there hasn’t been another body,” Ryne said, feeling a great weight on his chest as he thought about the boy’s small shape hanging from the beast’s jaws. “But an infected lapra took Kahkon.”
Gasps sounded from all around. Standing well over everyone, Ryne took in their wide-eyed expressions and animated gestures.
“An infected lapra?” Bertram repeated. “Here? You certain? How…What’s it doing here? The Rot is hundreds of miles away. And the wards…”
Several other elders seconded Bertram’s opinion.
Ryne shook his head. “It doesn’t need to make sense. That’s what took the boy. You can ask anyone who saw.” Some Council members did as he suggested. In turn, Ryne graced them with a glare. “Listen, you can stay here and continue to squabble about Mariel’s intentions. Or who or what killed those men we found near the kinai orchards. Or about what took the other eight villagers. I’ll have none of it. Before Kahkon ends up like them, I’m going after the boy. I’ve already sent Sakari to gather a few others for the task.”
A gravelly voice called from the crowd, “Mariel sent the beast.” All eyes shifted to the baldheaded man. Baker Forian wiped greasy hands on an apron dark with stains. “She took those who we be missing too.”
Ryne raised his brow. “You have proof of this?”
Forian sucked in his paunch as he held himself erect. “I seen her speak to plains lapras with my own two.” He pointed at his beady eyes. “They ran off without bothering the woman once. If that not be proof then what be?”
Several people gave doubtful grumbles, while others sounded as if they expected such an occurrence. Forian’s face flushed, but from his eyes, Ryne could tell the man believed what he said. Ryne frowned. Could Mariel have taken the villagers? The thought had crossed his mind before, but he’d yet to find proof. Yet, what made him more uncertain was the chance she might have an ability to commune with beasts similar to Sakari. He’d never seen anyone who possessed a skill comparable to his companion.