Maria Snyder - Scent of Magic

After he crossed three ridges, he relaxed a bit. Surely Tohon’s men wouldn’t come this far to ambush him. By the fifth day, he descended the Nine Mountains and entered a lush valley in Ivdel Realm.

He breathed in deep, letting his tight muscles relax. The smells of pine and the sea mixed into a familiar scent. It’d been three years since he’d been in the northern realms. The Realm of Alga … home was twelve days to the west. His brother, Izak, and Great-Aunt Yasmin still lived in the Algan Palace in Orel.

Ryne’s castle was located about the same distance in the opposite direction. Kerrick turned east. Regret that he wouldn’t be able to check in on what remained of his family settled deep inside him. He’d send them a letter once he reached Ryne’s.

Someday, he’d return to Alga with Avry. After Tohon’s defeat and the Fifteen Realms restored. Kerrick had to believe that in order to keep fighting.

With his thoughts on Avry, he paralleled the east/west path below the foothills of the Nine Mountains. Keeping to the forest, he sensed a few other groups of travelers but avoided them even though the northern realms had been living in relative peace for the past two years.

He didn’t encounter any trouble until the eighth day of his eastern trek. Kerrick heard a sound that made his blood turn to ice. A throaty growl full of menace. He reached farther out with his magic. Aside from birds, rabbits and squirrels, the forest surrounding him was empty of larger predators.

Another growl sounded. It was louder and closer. This time Kerrick recognized the creature. An ufa. He pulled his sword and backed against a thick trunk, debating if he should climb the tree before the ufa attacked. He nixed the idea. Ufas had sharp claws to match their razor-sharp teeth.

Leaves rustled. Why couldn’t he sense it? Kerrick pulled power, blending in with the mottled browns and black of the trunk. But his scent gave him away. A large ufa broke through the bushes, heading straight for him.

Images from another attack flashed in his mind. The memory of burning pain and the sound of ripping flesh as teeth punctured his throat caused sweat to pour from his body. Not again .

Kerrick pointed his sword at the beast, but it stopped a foot from the blade’s tip. The ufa was as long as Kerrick was tall. Gray brindled fur covered solid muscle. It stared at Kerrick with cold dead eyes. Horror welled. Tohon was one sick bastard.

More rustling announced the arrival of another five dead ufas. They always traveled in packs. They fanned out, blocking any chance for escape. Not as if he could outrun one, let alone six.

Kerrick tried to influence the vines growing nearby, hoping they would tangle in the ufas’ legs, but the forest didn’t sense the ufas as a threat, even as they moved through the underbrush. Dead flesh nourished the living green and was an accepted part of its ecosystem. And the tree canopy above him contained nothing but healthy strong limbs.

With no other recourse left, he gripped the hilt of his sword, hoping to take a couple out before they finished him.

I reached the outskirts of Mengels fourteen days after I left Kerrick. Bypassing Zabin had been tedious. I’d spent more time hiding than walking. The High Priestess Estrid’s holy army patrols covered more ground than before. Plus she had increased the frequency of their sweeps.

The noise of her squads’ passage through the forest had made it easy to avoid them—it just took longer. But their ineptitude worried me greatly. There was no way they would be able to perform any stealth military tactics without giving their positions away. Tohon’s troops would cut right through them. They needed to learn Kerrick’s trick of moving in the woods without making a sound.

Outside the Lamp Post Inn, I wrapped my hair into a tight knot. It had grown a couple inches since Mom and her daughter, Melina, had dyed the blond strands back to my natural auburn color and trimmed it. Now it hung straight to the end of my shoulder blades.

I donned a pair of eyeglasses that I’d found. It made everything a little blurry but not enough to hinder me. Then I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head. While the spring days had been warm, the nights cooled fast enough that I wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. I’d decided to enter the inn during the evening rush when the arrival of one more person wouldn’t be unusual. I’d rent a room where Mom could help me with a better disguise when she had time.

A good plan, except only a few people arrived. Anxiety grew. Mom always had a full house. Well, the days I’d been here she had. Perhaps this was her off-season.

When I pushed into the common room, I jerked to a stop. The reasons for the small turnout sat at the bar and occupied most of the tables. Estrid’s red-robed acolytes had invaded the inn.

I would have retreated, but a few of the acolytes spotted me standing in the doorway. If I left, it would be suspicious. So I strolled over to the bar to inquire about a room. Waiting for the bartender to finish with another customer, I scanned the inn’s common area.

A blaze roared in the hearth. Mom had covered the rough wooden tables with bright tablecloths, and cushions softened the chairs. Pastel paintings of flowers hung on the walls, and the mantel displayed Mom’s teapot collection. Despite the relaxed decor, tension thickened the air.

The door to the kitchen banged open. Mom stood on the threshold brandishing a spoon and fussing at one of the servers. Wisps of her pure white hair had escaped her bun. Stains coated her apron, and she looked years older even though I’d last seen her four and a half months ago. Not good.

She spotted me but didn’t react. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to rent a room.”

Mom glanced at the acolytes sitting at the bar. One man nodded to her. She pointed her spoon toward the tables. “Have a seat. I might have an open room, let me check.”

Oh, no. I retreated and found a small table in the back right corner out of the direct firelight. My thoughts swirled with questions. When had Estrid invaded Mengels? Should I just bolt and hope for the best?

A server I didn’t recognize took my order. In fact, I didn’t know any of the waitstaff. More than a few acolytes eyed me with interest. Swords hung from their waists. Which was a new twist. The acolytes I’d seen before hadn’t been armed. Well, not visibly. I wondered if these devotees would try to “recruit” me as they had my sister.

Noelle had been living on the streets of Grzebien when Estrid’s army had arrived to “help” the plague survivors, whether they’d wanted it or not. Along with a group of other street rats, Noelle had been rounded up and sent to a training camp.

The scars on my back burned with guilt as I remembered Noelle swinging a mallet at my head and accusing me of abandoning her. She’d been ten when my mother and younger brother, Allyn, had sickened with the plague and died, leaving her alone. At the time, I was in Galee working as an apprentice healer. Noelle said she’d sent me letters begging me to come home, but I never received them. I suspected my mentor, Tara, had intercepted them.

That still wasn’t an acceptable excuse. Or the fact that, since the plague swept with such speed, I wouldn’t have gotten home in time. Noelle was right. I’d abandoned her, and I needed to make amends.

Since my every move was being scrutinized by the acolytes, I ate my meal without tasting it.

Mom arrived with a slice of strawberry pie. She set it down in front of me.

“I didn’t order—”

“A skinny little thing like you can afford to have dessert.”

And just for a second, I caught a gleam of recognition in her eyes before she returned to brisk innkeeper.