David Wells - Cursed Bones

“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.