Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) Read online

  “Sir Edge,” he said hesitantly. “This thing Mister Yntri and Sir Hilt talked about, the ‘nightbeast’ that could be stalking us, what is it exactly? What are we looking for?”

  Justan didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t quite sure himself. “All I know is that the nightbeast is one of the ten monsters of legend and it has something to do with basilisks. Sir Hilt has killed one before.”

  “Then you know nothing, dry foot,” said Qurl in a dismissive voice. He walked towards the fire until he stood across from Justan and Aldie. He leaned on his staff, the flickering flames reflected in his eyes. “The nightbeast is a terror hard to comprehend.”

  “What are you saying?” Justan gave him a wry look. He had grown tired of the arrogant attitudes of the Roo-Tan men and wasn’t in the mood to put up with it. “Don’t you have the vocabulary to explain?”

  Qurl glared and shook his head slightly. The red ribbons in the braids beside his face swayed as he said, “You have fought a flesh changer and lived. So you have earned some respect. But I will not take-.”

  “I fought two of them. And I won,” Justan said with a firm voice. “I killed a flesh changer. And if I have earned respect, why do you insist on calling me ‘dry foot’?”

  “Because you are a dry foot,” said Jhexin with a laugh. He had moved to stand beside his brother, his hand on the pommel of his Jharro sword.

  Qurl cocked his head at Justan, and said matter-of-factly, “You are not of the Roo. You have not lived in the swamp. That makes you a dry foot.”

  “More dry than most,” Jhexin added.

  Justan ignored the younger of the two brothers for the moment and stood, meeting Qurl eye-to-eye. “If that’s all it means, then why do you say it the same way you would call someone a filthy dog?”

  Qurl blinked and there was no malice in his voice when he said, “We have no other name for someone like you.”

  Justan understood then that the brothers had a dilemma. Since Justan had a Jharro bow, he was deserving of the respect of a Jharro user. This meant that they couldn’t use his name without permission. This was why they never called him by name. As for the reason they used derogatory terms instead, they were just being jerks.

  “Let me help you,” Justan said and continued with a formal tone. “Fourth son of Xedrion, as you are the brother of my betrothed, I will offer you this respect. You may call me Sir Edge, as that was the name given to me by the Bowl of Souls. Tenth son of Xedrion, as you are Jhonate’s fullbrother I will offer you that same respect. If you call me ‘dry foot’ from here on, I will see it as an insult and react to it as such.”

  Jhexin looked baffled and watched Qurl to see how he would respond. The older of the two brothers gave Justan a slow nod, though his eyes were cautious. “You would offer me this when I am not yet willing to extend the same respect to you?”

  “I would,” Justan said and sat back down again. “Now that we have that out of the way, you may tell Aldie and I what you know about the nightbeast.”

  Qurl drew back, disliking the way Justan had taken control of the conversation. “The nightbeast is the most fearsome of adversaries. It is much like a flesh changer in many ways. It can take any form it chooses. It has all their powers. However, where the flesh changer is weak, the nightbeast is strong.”

  Jhexin snickered. “Too strong for the likes of you, dry-uh . . . Sir Edge.” He frowned, not liking the way that had come out.

  Just then Justan’s sensitive ears picked up a slight rustling in the tree next to the camp. He did not let on that he had heard, but calmly pulled his bow off of his shoulder and laid it across his lap. He kept his eyes on Qurl.

  “What do you mean?” Justan asked. “How are basilisks weak?”

  Qurl gave him a wicked grin. “How little you know for one that has killed one of them. A flesh changer cannot speak. A flesh changer cannot perfect the human form.”

  “You’re talking about their faces,” Justan said. He heard the slight noise again and reached up, making as if to scratch his neck, but placing his hand near his quiver. “They can’t get human faces right.”

  “The nightbeast can. It can look like anyone. It can sound like anyone,” Qurl said, the menace coming back into his voice. “It could be one of us and you would not know until it pierced your heart!”

  A series of clicks and whistles echoed down from one of the tree limbs overhead.

  “He says that is not quite true,” said Jhonate, stepping out from behind the trunk of the tree.

  “Jhonate,” Justan said with a smile. He lowered his drawn bow and placed the arrow back in his quiver. “I did not notice you return.”

  She and Yntri had decided to make a quick scouting trip along the perimeter of Pinewood looking for more signs of basilisks.

  Jhonate walked toward Justan and jerked her head at Aldie. The young student quickly stood and got out of the way so that she could sit next to Justan. You did a good job handling my brothers just now. I am proud of you.

  And I am proud of you for not interfering, Justan replied.

  She pursed her lips. I would have knocked Jhexin upside the head if Yntri had not stopped me.

  I revoke my proudness, Justan replied with a chuckle. But I am glad you listened to him. Did you kill any more basilisks?

  No, she said, sounding disappointed. We saw no sign of the beasts.

  Qurl was looking up at the elf who was standing precariously on a high branch looking down at them with his arms folded. “What do you mean by ‘it is not quite true’, Weaponmaster?”

  Yntri spoke down at them again and Jhonate translated for Justan and Aldie, “The nightbeast can mimic anyone but it cannot do so perfectly unless it has gotten to know the person.” Jhonate glanced at Qurl. “Remember when the nightbeast was after father and it tried to disguise itself as Mother Alexis? Father said he could tell it was not her by the sway of its hips.”

  “Pfft! But that was father,” said Jhexin. “None of the rest of us could tell.”

  Yntri clicked and Jhonate said, “Now that we know a nightbeast could be coming for Sir Edge we need to learn to tell the difference. It can mimic our appearance and possibly our voices if it gets close enough, but we must stay alert.”

  “This is a lot of work you ask us to do for your betrothed, fullsister,” Jhexin said.

  “I did not ask for your help, tenth son,” Justan replied, fixing her brother with a glare.

  Yntri clicked down at them.

  “He says we need to stop bickering and focus,” said Jhonate. “There are certain signs we can look for to know if the nightbeast is impersonating one of us.”

  “I would find it easier to concentrate if he wasn’t standing up there on that tiny branch,” Justan replied. He knew the elf was unnaturally agile, but he still kept expecting him to fall. “Can’t you come down here to talk to us?”

  The elf clicked.

  “He can see much better from up there and he says the rest of us should be watching the night as we talk. Basilisks can take any form,” Jhonate translated.

  “We know this,” Qurl said.

  Aldie shivered. “I didn’t think I’d be facing assassins and monsters of legend on my first assignment.”

  “Don’t worry. They’re not after you,” said Justan. “You don’t need to worry unless you’re standing between them and me.”

  “Which all of us are,” Jhexin pointed out.

  Yntri clicked again, giving them instructions on how to tell a nightbeast from a friend. The things he told them to look for were subtle; cadences of speech, odd changes of mood, someone appearing somewhere they were not expected to be. The most dangerous thing about the creatures was their high intelligence. Nightbeasts were well versed in the use of weapons in combat and had even been known to use ranged weapons. This was the worst part from Justan’s perspective.

  He could handle a beast coming at him head on, even if the beast was able to change its shape. But the idea that such a creature could fire a bow at him fr
om the darkness was a frightening one. How did you defend against something like that?

  Hilt and Poz showed up a short time later with news from the town. Evidently the magic barrier was still not up on the road through the Tinny Woods. With the mother of the moonrats dead and the dark heart of the forest destroyed, the wizards were balking at the task. They were right that the trip was much safer now, but there were still remnants from the enemy army about.

  Hilt told Justan that he would not be on a watch shift since he was the target. Hilt, Yntri, and Poz took the first watch instead. Justan felt guilty as he laid out his bedroll. He knew why Hilt felt it necessary, but taking him out of the watch would slow them down. With only half of the group able to sleep at any given time, they had to spend an extra hour or two in camp each morning so that everyone would get the rest they needed.

  Justan laid in his bedroll and reached out to his bonded. Fist was understandably alarmed about the developments and Justan had to make the ogre promise not to tell Darlan about it. Deathclaw was more pragmatic, simply saying that he would increase his speed if possible. Gwyrtha was the most difficult to deal with. She wanted to turn around and come right back to him. It took him a full fifteen minutes to persuade her that retrieving Deathclaw was still the best way she could help.

  He finished his conversations feeling mentally exhausted. Justan turned onto his side and opened his eyes to see Jhonate’s vibrant green eyes staring back at him. She had moved her bedroll until it was just a few feet away from his. This was new. She hadn’t done that before because of her brother’s ideas of propriety.

  Hello, he sent. I didn’t hear you move over here.

  She gave him a reproachful look. With the enhanced senses you get from Deathclaw that should not have been the case. When you are communicating with your bonded you are oblivious to everything else. If I had been a basilisk I could have killed you. You need to train your abilities.

  He smiled. That was the Jhonate he knew, ever the trainer. “You do know I love you, don’t you?”

  “Shh!” Not aloud, she sent, a smile spreading on her lips. But the expression quickly faded. I need to apologize to you, my betrothed, and this is a discussion I would like to keep silent.

  He raised an eyebrow. Have you been cheating on me with Yntri? Because I would be very angry.

  This is not funny, Justan. I have wronged you, she insisted.

  How is that? he asked, his own smile vanishing.

  Jhonate bit her lip. I have withheld information that you need to know regarding my people. There is much you need to know and understand before you meet my father and I have not prepared you.

  I have known this for a while, he replied. Why?

  Jhonate looked pained. There were multiple reasons. My people have a sacred trust. We are the Jharro Grove’s defenders. As such, we do not share much with outsiders. The more we tell, the more we might let slip something which could help an enemy to break through our defenses and harm the grove.

  I understand that, Justan replied through the ring. But I am the man you’re going to marry. Can’t you trust me?

  Of course, she said reaching out of her bedroll to grab his hand. Once our betrothal was official I wanted more than anything to tell you, to finally have someone to confide in. Can you not see how difficult it has been for me these last few years living at the academy and telling everyone nothing about me?

  Justan hadn’t thought of that. Keeping her past a secret had just seemed like a part of who she was. Then what stopped you?

  She looked down and he could feel shame emanating from her. It was a misunderstanding. When the bow chose you, Yntri told me that I could not teach you to use the bow. That you should come to understand it on your own if you were to reach your full potential. I took that to mean I should tell you nothing.

  Justan frowned. How shortsighted. But then, knowing Jhonate like he did, it made an odd kind of sense. What do you mean when you say the bow chose me?

  The bow was not meant for you to begin with. Yntri didn’t bring it all the way to the academy from Malaroo to give to a boy I was training. Jharro wood is sacred and not given lightly.

  I guess I can see that, Justan said. The logistics of that had never made sense to him. He had assumed that Yntri had just carried extra wood around and made the bow after they met. Then who was it for?

  It was for me, she replied. The reason Weaponmaster Yntri and Sir Hilt came to the academy back then was because my father sent them to convince me to return home. The bow was a bribe. You must understand. Among my people the amount of Jharro wood one has is a sign of the respect the trees have for you.

  I already had a staff, which was comprised of more wood than most of my siblings had, but with a bow I would have more than any but my two oldest brothers. Jhonate’s brow was furrowed and Justan sensed the deep seated conflict within her. Father was trying to lure me back by promising me the respect I had always wanted. My other siblings have always resented me for the attention father gave me, but that would have changed. How could they complain when the grove itself agreed with him.

  And then my bonding magic took that opportunity away from you, Justan surmised.

  My father might see it that way, but no, Jhonate said. Yntri says that the link between you and your bow came from the grove itself. It happened when he listened to you that day in the archery range. I did not know about the bow at the time and it was not until later when he presented it to me that we discovered that our tree had already linked itself with you.

  Justan reached his thoughts out to his bond with the bow. It was full of the same eagerness as always, but other than that, there was little difference between it and his other bonds. Jhonate, why did you call it ‘our tree’?

  You, Weaponmaster Yntri, and I share the same tree. Jhonate smiled. And many others of the Roo-Tan, of course. There are many trees in the grove, but many more Roo-Tan than there are trees to go around. Nevertheless, this is another connection that you and I share.

  Justan digested the things he had learned for a moment. If the trees choose who the weapons go to . . . Does this mean that the trees are sentient?

  Of course, Jhonate replied. They are ancient and wise beings and they are grateful to us for watching over them. That is why they gift us with their living wood.

  Then your people worship these trees? Justan asked.

  Jhonate laughed out loud. Do not be silly, Justan. They are not gods. They are trees. Nevertheless, they are sacred, tied to the life of this world. I believe that the prophet’s master planted them himself, but that is my own belief and not one taught by my people.

  “Hey you two,” said Hilt, interrupting them as he walked past the fire. “Stop staring into one another’s eyes and get some sleep. Jhonate has watch in four hours.”

  “Yes, sir,” Justan replied. His mind was a whir anyway. He’s right, you should sleep. They dutifully closed their eyes, but didn’t let go of each other’s hand despite the chill air.

  No, Jhonate said defiantly after just a few minutes. I have been holding this information back for too long and there is too much you need to know. Father will not accept you unless he believes that you can be one of us. I can forego some sleep to make sure that you are ready when you meet him.

  Alright, then. I don’t know if I could fall asleep now anyway. His mind was awhirl with more questions. There is something I have wondered many times before. The warriors of your people are skilled and dedicated. Why don’t they come to stand before the Bowl of Souls? You know of it. You respect it. Why don’t you seek it out? Is it because you so dislike wizards?

  She seemed surprised by the question. It is true that many of my people hold by the old traditions and would balk at entering the school, but that is not the reason we avoid the Bowl of Souls. It is because we are the Roo-Tan. To seek the bowl is to seek a calling. We have already been given ours.

  A calling? He asked.

  Yes, she said. When the bowl gives you your new name, it marks you as one
of its agents. One of the Roo-Tan cannot become an agent of the Bowl of Souls. Our calling is to defend the grove. It is the sacred promise our ancestors made centuries ago and we are bound by it.

  Justan had never thought of his naming as a contract before. The prophet said it came with responsibilities, but so far it hadn’t been a burden. The named warriors and wizards he’d met seemed to be able to go about their own business.

  Then something else occurred to him. What happens after we are married?

  What do you mean? she asked.

  Your sacred calling is to defend the grove. What are you planning on doing? There will be no reason for you to return since your contract with the academy is over. Your father certainly won’t want us to leave.

  I have not given it much thought, she replied, but he sensed a lie behind her words. Now that he thought about it, every time he had spoke to people about coming back after the wedding, she had been strangely silent.

  He let go of her hand and got up on one elbow. Do you want us to stay in Malaroo?

  I-I, her thoughts were hesitant. I do not know what I want. I do not know what will happen once we get there. I have been avoiding the question until I could come home and speak with my mother.

  What about what I want? he asked. The thought that she might want them to stay in Malaroo so far from his home filled him with anxiety.

  We will decide together, of course, she said. Jhonate could feel his anxiety too and it bothered her. Now lie back down. It is not something we need to worry about now.

  Justan did so, rolling onto his back. Alright then. We’ll talk about it later. What else do you want to tell me about tonight?

  Actually I am feeling tired. Perhaps Sir Hilt is right. We can talk more in the morning, she said and Justan could tell through the ring that she was really bothered.

  Are you sure?

  Yes. She turned on her other side, facing away from him. You should sleep too.