Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

42

The rain began not long after they met Uachi. It troubled them little at first, for the thick, spreading canopies of the trees partly sheltered them, but rivulets of water ran down the branches and soon the ground was muddy beneath their feet. Mhera wore the blanket like a makeshift cowl to keep the rain from her face.

Uachi walked ahead, picking his way through the dark trees with no trouble. Once, he took them across a stream, choosing his steps with practiced ease over the stones. As Mhera followed, her foot slipped and she landed with both feet in the cold water. She could feel the current as it moved over her boots, beginning to soak in. Looking up, Mhera saw the lambent eyes of the shadowcat floating somewhere near at hand.

It is dark ... shadowy. Misty. My feet are cold ... A sort of stream, running past me ... I am standing in it, and the water is cold. And eyes. Glowing. I think they're eyes. Like lights in the darkness.

Mhera shivered at the truth of her vision unveiled. Foreboding settled into her stomach, heavy like a stone, as she remembered the rest from Rhea's cottage: her own wrists, bound with rope. She knew what must lay ahead for her.

"Mhera, what are you doing?" Matei had come back to the edge of the stream. He reached out a hand to her. Mhera, distracted by her thoughts, actually took it this time and allowed him to help her out of the stream.

"S-sorry," she said, forcing herself to move onward. "C-cold."

"We'll be there soon. This damned rain." Matei led her onward. The addition of the ranger to their party had shattered their already meager inclination for conversation; Uachi's fury was no secret. It was there in the speed at which he set their pace, the way he jerked his head to indicate a turn, the way he refused to look back at them, even to check if they were following. He did not seem to notice how haggard Matei looked.

Mhera longed to ask for a rest, but dared not. Matei had been cruel to her, but Uachi's reaction to her was something else entirely.

The terrain remained difficult, and walking in the rain so far soaked them all through despite the protection afforded by the trees. Mhera's boots and the hem of her gown were dripping, caked with mud and flecked with bits of loam. Her skirt flapped heavily around her, sticking to her legs and making it difficult to walk.

The great shadowcat finally emerged from the trees onto the path, following closely at Uachi's heels—much to Mhera's discomfort. The creature's head was at Uachi's waist, its huge triangular ears making it seem larger still. The tail was as long as Mhera was tall, and the paw-prints it left behind were craters in the mud, welling quickly with shallow pools of water. It was mottled dark gray and black, a camouflaged pelt that allowed it to adopt near perfect invisibility in the shelter of the trees. It flicked it ears in irritation now and then, apparently as displeased by the rain as Mhera was.

Only the faceless man who led them seemed unperturbed by the weather.

Mhera had only one idea of what a city should look like. Having spent her entire life in Karelin, she of course pictured a settlement with towers and high walls, if not the jewel-colored roof tiles and glowing street lamps. Even the books and maps she'd seen of farther lands had shown their capitols and port cities in similar splendor to her own home. When she tried to picture the rebel encampment, she imagined thick, stone walls and iron bars on slit-like windows, slate gray roofs, glaring guards.

In any case, she was unprepared for what she saw when they reached Hanpe.

They entered the city as dawn's pale light was just creeping into the sky. As they emerged from the dense trees, it was possible to pick out the shadows of rain-heavy clouds veiling the sinking second moon. There it was: the rebel city, nestled at the foot of the long, sloping hill atop which they stood. It was a valley within the forest itself, misty in the rain. The valley was ringed by trees spreading their branches to the sky.