A Trail of Embers by C A Kinnee

Author:C A Kinnee [Kinnee, C A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780995851542
Published: 2018-05-16T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Danger—be wary.

Wait—watch!

In the darkness

pay heed.

Translated from the Chronicles of the Egg

Kieran slowed his pace and glanced at the sky. Shadows marched across the forest—deepening shade of gray and black. Good—shadows meant the sun was winning out over the clouds. Until now, those clouds had floated by on lonely wings weeping tears of rain on his head. Frustration was rapidly eroding the tenuous hold he had kept on his worry.

So far, he had easily followed Meara’s tracks, but more and more, he saw signs that showed her strength was fading. Broken bush and churned up mud marked places she had fallen or gotten lost and had to back track to find the trail.

He dropped to one knee beside a muddy print, and his fingers drummed restlessly on the ground beside it. When he found her, would she be able to run—to keep ahead of Metreo?

In the silence of the glades, he could feel the big man breathing down his neck. Metreo was out there, creeping closer. He wouldn’t rest until he’d finished the job. If he were the Mage’s follower in belief as well as pay, that meant until death—maybe even beyond. Kieran scowled and straightened, peering into the darkness of the trees.

Rumor said the Mage’s followers swore a blood oath that granted him power over their souls. If that were true, Metreo could be impossible to defeat. Kieran closed his eyes and shook the thoughts away. He wouldn’t give in to panic. Meara was close. He had to focus on that.

Right now, though, he needed a break from running. This glade was as good a place as any to sit and catch his breath. Rays of sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the foliage in bars of light. The ancient magic was strong here, and the meechan bushes held a bumper crop of berries. Kieran stripped a handful of the waxy yellow fruit from a spiny branch and filled his pockets.

The sun’s warmth heated the top of his head and steam rose up in waves from the wet wool of his cloak. Mechanically, he picked the berries thinking about Meara and the egg. A bee buzzed in his ear. He swatted it away. It returned, whirring angrily. A surge of energy coursed through the bristly bough of the meechan bush stinging his hand. Kieran cursed and dropped the branch. He rubbed his palms over the thighs of his leggings. Goose bumps marched up his arms.

“You must come.” The call sounded far away.

“Orlan?” he asked tentatively. Was it a distant echo of Orlan’s earlier call? Sometimes that happened.

His question went unanswered. He rolled his shoulders trying to work the knots free. He was jumping at shadows, letting his exhaustion confuse the mind link and muddle his tracking senses. The buzz returned. This time it was loud and angry. Its strength made the hairs on his neck stand up. Kieran turned towards the sound. He knew what it was. He’d heard it in the walled city when Rahdon captured Meara—when the egg screamed.

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