David Wells: Cursed Bones

Isabel woke with a start, her heart hammering in her chest, her hand instinctively going for the hilt of her dagger. Once she realized where she was, she eased herself back onto her bunk and swallowed hard against the rising lump in her throat. She’d been dreaming again, the same dream she’d had for the past three nights, the dream, or rather the nightmare, where she killed Alexander.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She’d left him. The only man she’d ever loved, the best man she’d ever known, and she’d left him without even saying goodbye, without giving an explanation … nothing. And yet, she knew deep down in that calm place where reason prevailed, that she’d done the only thing she could have done. The dreams were proof of that. Proof that Phane’s dark magic was working within her, working to subvert her free will and turn her against the people she loved.

The solution was painfully simple and even more painfully difficult. She couldn’t afford to be around the people she loved anymore. As lonely a thought as that was, she knew it was the only way to protect them. More importantly, it was the only way to protect their common cause from her own inevitable betrayal.

She put her hand on her stomach and stared into the darkness of her stateroom as she swallowed back another sob.

It was one thing to face an enemy, to stand and fight, even against insurmountable odds, but this was profoundly different. It was so insidious. In the days since she’d left the dragon isle, she’d begun to carefully observe her own thoughts, scrutinizing each for its authenticity. Did it originate from within her own mind? Or was it planted there by Azugorath?

Phane’s dark minion was the immediate cause of her suffering, but the Wraith Queen was really just a symptom of a much larger problem.

Phane.

She meant to kill him.

The moment she’d left her wounded husband in his Wizard’s Den, she knew her course. It was the only path open to her. She couldn’t stay with Alexander, even though she longed to be with him. She couldn’t go home to Ruatha lest she become a danger to her friends and family. She couldn’t go to Ithilian or to the fortress island for the same reason. The only place she could go without endangering those she cared about was to her enemy.

Her intent was resolute-honed to a razor’s edge by desperation and a furious rage simmering in the pit of her belly.

That left the how.

Phane was more than a match for her in any kind of direct confrontation. She had to beat him at his own game. She had to deceive the deceiver. Only subterfuge would give her the opportunity she needed.

A little flutter of fear chased the pangs of loneliness and loss from her belly. She’d never been a very good liar. Surely, Phane would see through any direct effort at deception. In order to work, her ruse would have to be subtle and artful.

But how?

No matter.

She’d been turning these thoughts over and over in her mind for days, pondering all of the possibilities, but in the end, she decided that circumstances would dictate her tactics. Things would become clearer as she got closer to her target.

A soft knock at the door disturbed the darkness.

“Yes?” she said, quietly.

“We’ve reached the coast of Karth, Lady Reishi,” Captain Kalderson said. “We’re holding half a league from the surf.”

“How long before dawn?” Isabel asked.

“Couple of hours.”

She sat up and took a deep breath. It was time.

Captain Kalderson was waiting for her when she opened the door to her stateroom. “It’s not too late to set a new course, My Lady,” he said.

“Thank you, Captain, but I’m afraid you’re wrong.”

“At least let me send a squad of men with you.”

“No, you’d just be sending them to their death.”

“What about you, Lady Reishi? What’s to stop the Regency soldiers from killing you the moment they lay hands on you?”

Isabel shrugged. “Phane wants me alive.” She handed the captain a letter, sealed in wax with the medallion of Glen Morillian. “As soon as I’m away, make haste for Ruatha. Land at Northport and personally deliver this letter to Commander P’Tal in Blackstone Keep.”

“He’ll skin me alive for letting you go into harm’s way alone,” Captain Kalderson said, taking the letter and inspecting the seal before tucking it into his shirt.

“You have your orders, Captain. Now, show me to my boat.”

***

Even this far south, the night air was cold. Her face was red from the stinging, wind-whipped spray coming off the surf, as well as from the exertion of rowing the little dinghy to shore. Another wave caught her, pushing her toward the shallows, rocking her back, then forward, before passing beneath her and setting her boat on an even keel once again. The shadow of Captain Kalderson’s ship was lost in the predawn black.

Isabel was alone … well, almost alone. Slyder was nearby, as always. Her boat ran aground in the surf. She steadied herself as she hoisted her pack and gathered her resolve, then stepped into the water and dragged her boat toward shore.

After securing the dinghy just inside the jungle that hugged the beach, she built a small fire and ate breakfast while her clothes dried. She didn’t worry about the light of the fire attracting the enemy. If they found her, so be it. If they didn’t, she meant to find them.

She wasn’t sure how Phane would react to her arrival, especially since she wasn’t bringing him the Sovereign Stone, but she was confident that he wouldn’t kill her, at least not right away. He wanted to use her against Alexander, and besides, she was a valuable captive if nothing else. Phane would keep her alive to use as leverage, probably offer her in exchange for the Stone. Regardless, his machinations would work against him. He would take precautions, no doubt. But she would find a way to circumvent those precautions and land a killing blow.

One way or another, she would see Phane bleed.

Slyder landed, cocking his head at her quizzically. She scratched him under the chin.

“It’s just you and me now.”

He leaned into her affections.

She sat quietly, staring into the flames and pondering her future as the orange glow of her fire gave way to the light of dawn. Her clothes dry, she strapped on her pack, checked her sword in its scabbard and set out into the jungle.

It was a different kind of forest than the Great Forest of Ruatha, but it was a forest nonetheless. The trees reached high into the sky, shading the undergrowth and providing a framework for the multitude of climbing vines that seemed to thrive in the warmer, wetter climate of Karth. The canopy above was an intricate network of vegetation, teeming with life. Birds and small mammals woke with the dawn, filling the air with sounds of countless jungle denizens starting their day.

Isabel kept Slyder low and close as she carefully threaded her way through the dense undergrowth. She wasn’t sure where she was going but reasoned that she’d find a road near the coastline. From there, whatever passed for civilization on Karth couldn’t be too far.

She’d walked for nearly an hour when she heard a noise in the jungle that didn’t fit. Frozen in place, her ears straining, she waited. The instant she heard it again, she linked her mind with Slyder and directed her familiar to the source of the noise.

Her forest hawk came to rest on a tree limb overlooking a young boy buried to his armpits in sand. Using Slyder’s eyes, Isabel plotted a course to the child and set out, cautiously and quietly. When she stepped into the clearing, a dog challenged her. He was big, built very much like a wolfhound, standing three feet at the shoulder. He had a long snout and powerful jaws, and he was very unhappy with Isabel’s presence.