The Ten of Phoenixes [Chapters 1-3] Bonus

Hey peeps!

So, as everyone here knows, I write tons of books. You guys saw Warlock PI Man, but this one I've also written on the side. I figured I would show you all the opening, see if it was interesting. 

If you like it, please let me know! If no one mentions anything, I'll assume the opening is not compelling enough - I'll go back to the drawing board.

This is high adventure fantasy. I'd like to call it "Lord of the Rings meets Jet Li's The One (if anyone knows that movie, lol)"

Or maybe Lord of the Rings meets Unleashed. Another Jet Li movie. I really like Jet Li movies, you guys. >.>

Shami

Chapter 1

The Ember Hollow

Something disastrous was going to happen, but when I awoke, the details of the catastrophe faded from my mind.

I opened my eyes and stared up into the bright blue sky. The last of my memories disappeared, slipping away like water into sand. A warm breeze rushed over the area, picking up dead leaves and carrying them away. When the wind calmed, I was left with an eerie silence.

After a long exhale, I sat up.

I was surrounded by a small pile of gray ashes, some flecked with white. The powdery residue marked my bare flesh, staining my tanned skin with smears of black. Where was I? There was a stone floor under me, constructed with hundreds of bricks set in a bird-like pattern. But there was no roof—just a single, half-crumbled wall covered in dark green moss.

This had once been a room. The other walls had long collapsed, their bricks nowhere to be found.

When I glanced around, I spotted a forest of large, dead trees dotting the landscape in all directions. The graying redwoods were gigantic enough to house a few dozen individuals inside their trunks, but rot had stolen their branches. There was no canopy of leaves, just a desolate wasteland of twisted trees that resembled gnarled fingers reaching for the sky.

The smell of decaying wood hung in the air thicker than smoke. This redwood forest had been this way for a long time.

Something on the still-standing wall of my room glowed a brilliant indigo. I turned just as a shimmering stone picture of a bird fell from the moss and hit the floor.

The stone bird shattered, and the purple glow vanished.

That seemed unfortunate, somehow, but I couldn’t articulate why.

“Hello?” someone called out. “I heard a strange noise. Is anybody there?”

I waited in my pile of ashes, unsure of how to respond. Was I anybody? Was this person speaking to someone else?

The crunch of dead leaves heralded the slow and steady arrival of the speaker. They trudged through the forest, walking through the undergrowth, somewhere on the other side of my room’s only wall.

A person walked around the stone structure.

A woman.

Her brown hair, some strands golden amber when the daylight caught them just right, hung freely to her shoulders. Her hazel eyes, widening the instant she caught sight of me, were bright with clarity.

She threw her arms up and shielded her gaze, practically stumbling backward in her haste. The woman wore thick boots, a pair of loose pants with many pockets, and a tight shirt with sleeves to her elbows.

“S-Sir,” the woman practically shouted, her pale skin brightening to red. “What’re you doing out in the forest without your clothes?” She ducked behind the crumbling wall, but didn’t go anywhere afterward.

I glanced down at my ash-marked body.

No clothes. Just me.

“I don’t know,” I replied, my voice smooth, my breath laced with a lingering heat that faded after I spoke.

“You don’t know?” The woman huffed and laughed at the same time. “If you don’t want to say, that’s fine by me—I don’t need to know what you do in your private time—but would you kindly put them back on? At least until I’m done searching the Ember Hollow?”

Back on?

Again, I glanced around. There was nothing but ash. The wind picked up a second time, carrying most of it away, leaving me with literally nothing, as though the breeze wanted to mock me.

“I have no clothes,” I replied, calm and unconcerned.

“None?”

She sounded both shocked and baffled. I didn’t know what else to say. Why was she so upset?

“I don’t have any clothes,” I said, steadier than before.

“How did you get out here? Just strolling naked between the trees?”

I glanced up at the sky. It was the first thing I saw when I woke, and staring at it was my earliest memory. How did I get here?

“I don’t know,” I said to both the woman, and myself.

She mumbled, “Govena have mercy on me.” After a long sigh, she asked, “You’re not trying to trick me, right? Because you h-have to tell me if you are.”

I lifted my hands and stared at my palms. “I don’t think I’m tricking you.”

Another sigh, this one shorter than before. “Let me guess—you celebrated a little too hard last night.”

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“Okay… Listen, I’m going to go to my cart and get some of my father’s old clothes. Wait right here. It’ll only take a couple minutes.”

The woman hurried away, her steps through the dead forest fast and fading. I listened to her go, and then returned my attention to the dead trees. The redwoods here had been hundreds of years old before they fell to the rot. For some reason, sadness consumed me, though I didn’t know why.

It felt like…

I had suffered a terrible loss, but I couldn’t remember any of the details.

Probably for the best. I shook my head, dispelling the painful feeling. Whatever made me so grief-stricken wasn’t worth dwelling on.

The woman’s footsteps brought my attention back to the immediate. She stopped on the other side of the crumbling wall, and then she carefully threw a bag of clothing around the edge, so as not to catch sight of me. The bag landed with a plop on the stone brick floor.

“There you go. Put something on that fits, okay?”

I pulled the sack close. Inside, I found a variety of clothing. Multiple pants. Several shirts. A belt. I tugged out a couple, but most seemed too small. When I found a pair of pants that seemed suitable, I stood and slipped them on.

The ash residue on my body dirtied them.

I brushed it away from my skin and the clothing. Pants felt strange.

“Are you dressed?” the woman asked.

“Halfway.”

She slowly poked her head around the edge of the wall. Once she realized I was no longer fully naked, she stepped around the obstacle and faced me, her lips pressed tightly together.

“Oh, well…” Her eyes trailed over my body until she finally met my gaze. With her cheeks pink, she said, “You are way too muscular to be a random vagabond.”

I glanced down, and then turned my attention to her. She was at least a foot shorter, and her body lean, but not defined. I had a more chiseled physique, every line across my body created by the bulge of muscle.

This was somehow strange, it seemed. The woman kept staring, her gaze lingering in odd places. Was I grotesque?

My essence, the lifeforce of creatures, seemed different than hers as well. It was hard to describe since my thoughts were so vacant.

“These shirts seem small,” I said.

The woman lifted an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching upward. “Uh-huh. Well, my father never quite looked like this.” She motioned to all of me. “So that makes sense. But one of the shirts in the sack should be larger. I think.”

I rummaged through the sack again until I found a brown shirt at the bottom. It was wider, and had long, floppy sleeves. Once I pulled it out, I slipped it over my head and smoothed the fabric.

Now I was dressed.

It still felt strange. But at least the woman wasn’t upset anymore.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

I met her gaze. “I don’t know.”

She laughed. For some reason. Why was that funny?

After she waved her hand, as though dismissing my comment, she asked again, “Oh, come now, what’s your name?”

“I don’t know.”

“No matter how drunk you got last night, you wouldn’t forget your name. That’s preposterous.” She calmed her laughing and met my gaze. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone I found you out here in just your skin.”

Tell anyone?

I glanced around, wondering if I would see other people.

Nothing. It was just the two of us in this dead forest.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Oh. Well… I’m Kyla Yarros.”

“Then that’ll be my name, too.” I placed a hand on my chest. “I’m Kyla Yarros.”

The woman narrowed her eyes into a glower. “What? You can’t take my name.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s mine,” she said, indignant. “Surely you have your own name. You can’t take someone else’s just like that. What did your mother call you?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I can’t remember.”

Her expression softened, her eyebrows knitting in concern. That was a painful revelation, it seemed. Was not knowing my name really that upsetting? Kyla Yarros tapped her bottom lip as her gaze fell to the brick floor.

Then she snapped her fingers and smiled at me. “Okay, no need to panic. I’ll just call you Nichet. That was my father’s name.”

“So I can have your father’s name, but not yours?” I asked, genuinely confused.

She placed her hands on her hips. “W-Well, my father isn’t using his name anymore, so it’s fine to use until you remember your real name. Sound fair?”

I nodded once. “That makes sense. Thank you, Kyla Yarros.”

“Just call me Kyla. Using my family name like that is too formal.” She held up a hand, cutting me off from responding. “So, do you remember where you live? Or is that a big mystery, too?”

Where did I live?

I motioned to the crumbled room in the middle of the dead forest. “I live right here.”

Kyla snorted back a laugh. She smiled a little wider, her eyes sparkling with genuine delight. “I keep getting the feeling you’re joking with me.”

I slowly shook my head. “I don’t think I’m joking.”

Again, my statement made her laugh. I wasn’t sure why, but I was happy to have amused her.

Kyla snapped her fingers again. “Oh! I know. I’ll take you to the market square in Linglade. It’s so large, and there are so many people there this time of year, I’m sure someone will recognize you.” Once again, she motioned to my body. “You’re rather… unique.”

“I am?” I asked.

“Well, yes. Not every day you find a drunken warrior man all alone in the forest. Someone will spot you, they’ll know your name—maybe you’ll sober up enough on the trek to remember yourself—and everything will be fine.”

“Where is Linglade?”

Kyla pointed out into the forest of dead redwoods. “It’s a little way in that direction, just beyond the Ember Hollow.”

“Where is the Ember Hollow?”

My barrage of questions seemed to confuse Kyla more than anything. She lifted an eyebrow and frowned. “The Ember Hollow is this forest.” She gestured to the trees, to my room, and then to the detritus all around us. “We’re standing in it.”

“Oh. I understand now.” Then I pointed to one of the nearest tree trunks. “It seems so sad here, though. And I thought… it would have a different name.”

“This place used to be considered sacred,” Kyla said matter-of-factly. She grabbed the sack of clothing, hopped off the stone floor, and then walked a few feet into the forest. She held out her arms. “But it died a long time ago.” When she lowered her arms, she added, “I’m here looking for seeds to sell. And if I’m lucky, I’ll find some old knickknacks. As long as you don’t mind waiting for me to search around, I’ll take you to Linglade once I’m done.”

Use to be sacred…

I also hopped off the stone flooring and into the Ember Hollow. “I don’t mind waiting,” I said. “I’d like to go with you.”

Kyla’s face grew pink again. She rubbed her cheek as she said, “Okay, but don’t think any sweet talking will get you anywhere. And for the record, I have a knife—and I know how to use it. So if you are trying to trick me, you’ll regret it.”

“I don’t think I am.” I walked over to her.

Kyla chuckled as she eyed me. “You keep saying things like you don’t even know what you’re doing—like even your own motives are a mystery.”

“I suppose I don’t know what I’m doing.”

My response seemed to silence Kyla. Once again, she stared at me in concern, frowning as though she had heard something terrible. I preferred it when she was laughing. I didn’t want to upset her.

“I think I have to do something important,” I added. But I just couldn’t remember what.

“Well, once we get to Linglade, I’m sure there will be a doctor who can help you,” Kyla eventually said. She motioned for me to follow. “Come on. Let’s search this area for some seeds, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Chapter 2

Born of Monsters

Kyla rooted through the forest’s detritus, plucking up small seeds from time to time. I walked behind her, my gaze on the massive redwood trunks. Most were twisted and devoid of their original color.

I placed my hand on one, sad that I felt nothing. When I touched the ground, I felt the pulse of the world, and I thought the trees would’ve had the same, but they were truly dead.

“Are you okay?” Kyla asked. She stood and brushed dirt off of her pants.

“I think so,” I replied.

“Uh-huh.” She gestured to a small path. At the end of the trail, near the edge of the Ember Hollow, stood a horse tied to a cart. “Look. We’re almost done.”

“We weren’t here long.”

“This forest has been picked dry.” Kyla sighed as she hurried toward her cart. “I keep thinking I might find something interesting, because of all the old legends about this area, but that’s probably childish.”

I followed her between two gnarled tree trunks until we reached her cart. The brown horse tied to the front had a bowed back and shoulder bones that jutted upward like tiny, useless wings. The mare swung her head around, her eyes foggy. Kyla walked over and stroked the horse’s blonde mane.

The creature whinnied as Kyla went around to the back of the cart.

I approached the horse. The mare regarded me with a long stare. Then she lowered her head, and I gently patted her aching back.

The mare liked that.

She was old, with cracked hooves, and boney legs that were bulbous at the joints. And her coat was thin, which seemed to displease her the most.

“Your mare is happy to see you,” I commented.

“Her name is Mella,” Kyla said. “And she doesn’t like or miss anyone.” Kyla placed her seeds into a sack. The back of the cart had no cover—it was just a collection of bags and barrels, most of which appeared empty.

“That’s not true.” I scratched Mella behind one of her ears. “Mella was worried. Something in the forest has frightened her.”

Mella snorted. When she swished her tail, she turned her long face toward a tree not far from us. The mare didn’t like that tree. Something was hiding behind it, and the horse had been nickering until her throat hurt, calling for Kyla.

How did I know?

With my hand on the horse, I felt her pulse of life, her essence, and she spoke me to me in a way that transcended language. Mella had been afraid, but now she was happier—more secure—that Kyla had returned.

Once Kyla was done tying the bag closed, she glanced up and lifted an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me you know my horse better than I do? You’re rather arrogant for someone who can’t even remember their own name.”

Arrogant?

I stroked Mella’s neck, reassuring her that everything would be okay. “I apologize. I’ll try to tame my arrogance.”

Kyla strode over. She brushed dirt off her tight-fitting shirt, and then reached for a coat resting on the seat of the cart. With a few quick motions, she slid her arms into it, brushed back her beautiful brown-and-amber hair, and then stood next to me and Mella.

“This mare has a personality bigger than she is,” Kyla stated. “She’s stubborn, she doesn’t like to work before dawn, and she loves carrots. She’s also older than I am. Mella’s been in our family for decades.”

I nodded along with her words. “Thirty-two years.”

Kyla opened her mouth, but no words came. She stared at me, her eyes wide, her posture stiff. She had seemed poised to continue her conversation, but my comment had caught her off guard. Kyla closed her mouth. Then she hardened her expression.

“How did you know that?” Kyla whispered.

“Mella told me.” Then I gestured to the far redwood trunk. “Just like she told me there’s something waiting just behind that tree.”

The information settled onto Kyla slowly, like she couldn’t believe a single word I had spoken. She turned her attention to the dead redwood tree, her eyes narrowed.

“Is someone there?” Kyla called out.

The wind rushed by.

No one replied.

Kyla turned back to me, her growing suspicion evident in her searching gaze.

But before I could speak on the matter, two figures stepped out from around the wide tree trunk—men who moved with unsettling confidence, similar to predators closing in on pray. Both wore black scarves over half their face, hiding their noses, mouths, and chins.

The first man, tall and wiry, held a rusty blade in his calloused hand. His dark eyes surveyed the cart, Mella, and Kyla, but once he spotted me, he slowed his gait. He wore a thick coat and pants ripped with holes in the knees.

The second man, stockier and menacing, held a heavy cudgel, the wood stained with what I suspected was blood. His clothing barely fit—like mine—and was marked with coal dust.

This was why Mella had been upset. These men reeked of sweat and desperation.

Kyla quickly stepped closer to her horse, and then she motioned me backward. “Nichet,” she whispered. “Do you… know how to fight?”

“I don’t know,” I replied.

She clenched her jaw as she reached into the pocket of her coat. “Of course. Just my luck. I find the one wandering warrior who is completely useless.” Kyla withdrew a small blade—something only two inches long and dull from use.

The two strange men weren’t deterred by the sight of Kyla’s weapon.

“Stay back,” Kyla said to me. Then she held onto her mare’s neck as she shouted, “I-I have plenty more weapons. I’m not afraid to use them.”

The wiry man eyeing me took a moment to fully take in my appearance. He stared at my bare feet, and my ill-fitting clothing, and then seemed to grow more confident.

I wasn’t sure who either of these men were, but their presence disturbed Kyla and Mella. I didn’t appreciate that. I hoped these men would quickly be on their way.

“Hand over anything you found in the forest,” the stockier man said, his voice both gruff and distorted by the scarf over his mouth. “Do it fast, and we don’t cause you no trouble.”

“I have nothing.” Kyla held her horse tighter than before. “Leave us alone.”

The wiry man pointed with his rusty blade. “We’ll take your steed, then.”

“Never.” Kyla pressed herself against the mare.

“It’s either the horse or your life.”

The large man nodded and chuckled.

Why was he laughing? Was this some sort of jest? Kyla trembled, her hands unsteady. She wasn’t amused. She was just as frightened as the mare, which bothered me.

“Excuse me,” I said.

The two men—and Kyla—turned to stare at me.

“I think you should take your jokes elsewhere.” I motioned to the path that led out of the Ember Hollow. “We’re busy and need to be on our way to Linglade. I’m sorry, but we just don’t have time for games right now.”

The larger man, his shoulders squared and tensed, pointed his thick cudgel at me. “You shut your mouth or we’ll cave in your skull.”

“You didn’t enter the woods with the girl,” the smaller man stated. “You got no reason to be buttin’ in to this.”

I had no reason? What an odd thing to say. Was I interrupting some sort of ritual? Even if I was, Kyla didn’t seem to like it. Not one bit.

“Stay out of this.” The big man slammed the cudgel into his free hand, the resulting smack loud enough to echo between the dead tree trunks. “You don’t even got any shoes to pilfer. You’re a waste of our time.”

Not having shoes meant I was a waste of time? Another peculiar statement.

“Stand back, Nichet,” Kyla whispered, her voice shaky. She waved me away a second time. “We don’t want to get hurt, okay?”

Get hurt?

Was someone about to get hurt?

The men were brandishing weapons, and threatening to cave in skulls, but their mannerisms didn’t register as real threats to me. These two individuals had essences that felt like dirty puddles. I was more confused than anything else. It was like watching newborn babes taunt a fully grown bear. They couldn’t be serious.

Then again, Kyla’s essence, while clear, was also shallow. Was that why she was afraid? But the men saw me—surely, they felt my essence—so why were they saying such foolish things?

But I did as Kyla wanted.

I took a step back. Perhaps I would understand this ritual more once it was over. It had to be a game. I just didn’t know the rules.

Then Kyla returned her attention to the foul-smelling men. “You can take whatever you want from the cart. But you can’t have my mare. She’s part of my family.”

“That’s not how this is gonna work, girlie.” The bigger one laughed as he advanced.

The knife-wield man nodded. “We’re gonna take the whole cart. Mare included.”

“I told you no.” Kyla held her ground, her grip tight on her small blade. “I’ll… I’ll make you regret harassing me if you even try it.” She pointed her weapon at the man.

Once the smaller man was just a few feet from Kyla, he lunged.

I didn’t know if his intent was truly to harm her, but he led with his blade, and despite Kyla’s instructions to stand back, I couldn’t stop myself. I rushed forward—much faster than the knife-wielding man could possibly move—and intercepted his attack. In the split second it all happened, the man’s dark eyes grew wide with shock.

I simply grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the weapon, and twisted.

But my grip must’ve been too forceful.

The man’s wrist shattered when I squeezed, and the bones in his arms snapped. Lumps formed under his skin as his limb became useless in an instant.

He was… surprisingly frail. Moreso than I had thought.

The man dropped his rusty knife and howled in agony.

He crumpled to the ground, and I released his broken arm without doing anything else.

“Jasin!” the larger man called out.

Then he turned his beady eyes on me, and swung with his cudgel. I ducked under the swing, easily dodging. The man stumbled, thrown off-balance by his own attack, and took a long moment to recover. I waited, unconcerned and bored, as he tightened his grip on his weapon and swung again.

This was truly a waste of time. I caught the weapon mid-swing, stopping it at the apex of its arc, and then squeezed. The wooden cudgel splintered in my grasp. The large man’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide. Then a burst of flame emanated from palm, washing over the weapon and splashing across the man’s arm.

He yelped and staggered backward, his skin red and raw. I dropped his broken cudgel, unsure of what to do with it.

Jasin—the small man—hurried to his feet. “Oh, Govena has cursed us!” He ran down the road, away from us and the cart, cradling his busted arm. “Hurry, Tark! Hurry!”

His large friend, Tark, struggled to defeat his confusion. He patted out the few remaining embers still singing his clothing and then turned to hurry after his friend.

I watched the two of them for a few seconds, making sure they wouldn’t change their mind and come rushing back. Once confident they were gone, I turned to Kyla.

She stared at me, shaking worse than she had been before.

“Sorry,” I said. “I know you told me to stand back, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

But her trembling didn’t stop.

With a frown, I said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your game.”

Kyla had no response for that, either.

After a few long, and silent moments, I walked toward the cart, ready to continue the trek.

“Stay away!” Kyla shouted.

I stopped in my tracks, surprised at loud she had shouted. Was she speaking to me? I glanced around—no one else was here. She must’ve been speaking to me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She shook her head, her eyebrows knitted, her complexion paler than ever. “You’re a monster. Some sort of aberration. I thought… I thought they couldn’t enter the Ember Hollow, but obviously the old stories were wrong.”

“A monster?” I repeated. “I don’t think I’m a monster.”

Kyla motioned to where the men had been. “I just saw everything! You created fire and tossed those grown men around like it was nothing! You w-woke up in the woods, and you don’t even have a name?” She ran a shaky hand down her face, her gaze falling to the ground. “I should’ve realized sooner…”

I touched my chest and then felt my shoulders. Nothing about me seemed different.

“Have I done something wrong?” I asked. Perhaps I should’ve allowed the man with the knife to attack.

“Aberrations eat people. I’ve heard all the stories about how they pretend to be normal men and women until it’s too late.” Kyla quickly pulled herself up onto the seat of her cart. Then she grabbed Mella’s reins and urged the mare to the road. “Stay away from me!” she shouted again.

“But—”

“You stay right where you are! I never want to see you again.”

Oh.

That was… upsetting.

I exhaled, unsure of what to do. Obviously, I didn’t know anything about of this world’s rituals and games. If I was a monster—an aberration—why wasn’t I aware before? The urge to eat people never struck me. But Kyla seemed confident in her assessment.

I stared at my hands.

What was I going to do? My memories still eluded me.

The cart squeaked as it hit the dirt road. Kyla yanked on the reins, trying to steer Mella to away, but the old mare turned her attention to me.

I stared into the horse’s foggy eyes. Mella tugged on the reins and headed in my direction.

“Mella!” Kyla shouted. “No!”

The mare stomped over, completely disregarding Kyla’s tugs and protests. Mella was stubborn, just as Kyla had said.

When Mella reached me, she gently poked me with her snout. Her essence spoke to me. She wanted to thank me for helping. And she wanted me to stay near Kyla, to protect her from strangers until they were safe back home.

I stroked Mella’s long mane. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t talk to my horse,” Kyla said, pointing at me.

I nodded once and did as she demanded.

Mella snorted and stomped a hoof.

For a long while, we all just stood there, on the side of the road, the horse nudging me with her snout, and Kyla unsuccessfully pulling on the reins. After a few minutes, Kyla stopped and stared at me.

“You’re really not a monster, are you?” she asked.

I slowly shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Mella wouldn’t love you so much if you were a monster.”

“I think Mella is just concerned about you,” I said. “She wants me to protect you from any other shady men on the road.”

Kyla couldn’t stop herself from releasing a laugh. After a moment, she stifled her mirth and smiled. “You can really understand her?”

“I can.”

“But…” Kyla brushed some of her hair back behind one ear. “How did you fight off those two men? That wasn’t… human.”

“I don’t know,” I earnestly replied.

Kyla leaned down and stroked the backside of Mella. Kyla’s eyes were unfocused for a moment, as she seemingly mulled over everything that had happened. When she glanced back up, I met her gaze. “You might still be an aberration,” she whispered. “But if Mella isn’t afraid, maybe you’re a herbivore. Or something.”

“Maybe,” I muttered. I doubted it. But I had no proof otherwise.

Kyla patted the empty seat next to her on the cart. “Climb up here. I’ll still take you to Linglade, but—and this is a big but—I’m going to take you to my village’s shrine first, okay? It’s another sacred spot. They say people’s true natures are revealed there.”

“Okay,” I said. I effortlessly pulled myself up onto the cart and took my seat next to her. “Thank you. I appreciate you helping me.”

Kyla stared, both her eyebrows lifting toward her hairline. “O-Oh. No. There’s no need for that. You were the one who fought off those two highwaymen.” She nervously chuckled.

“I still appreciate you helping me. Even if I’m an aberration.”

Kyla glanced around. When she returned her attention to me, she placed a finger on her lips. “Let’s not talk about that. Ever. No one should know you’re a monster, understand? They’ll be afraid. And until I know for sure, I don’t think you should admit it to anyone.”

Again, I nodded. “I won’t say anything.”

She smiled and then urged Mella to the road once again. “Good. Because it doesn’t take long to get to my village, and I’m sure people will have lots of questions. Just let me do all the talking.”

Chapter 3

The Merchant

It was well past midday, but still bright out. I enjoyed the cart ride, if only because it was new and exciting.

“Okay, here are the rules.” Kyla held up a finger. “First, if you ever feel the urge to consume flesh or drink blood—even just little—you have to tell me immediately. Understand?”

I nodded. “I will.”

The front axle of the cart squeaked every few feet of our travel. Mella pulled us forward at a steady pace, taking us far from the Ember Hollow. The wonderful sunlight warmed my body and spirit.

“Second, if the sight of a full moon or the scent of an innocent baby causes you to go into a frenzy or something, you have to maintain control enough to leave all civilization first, got it? You can’t hurt anyone on accident.”

“I’ll try,” I said, knitting my eyebrows.

“Third, whenever you remember anything important, you have to tell me.” Kyla poked me in the chest with her finger. “Especially if you remember you’re a monster lord or some such nonsense. Okay? I need complete honesty. If I ever think you’re lying to me, I’m not going to take you to Linglade.”

“Do I get to make rules?” I asked.

Kyla stared, clearly baffled. “What do you mean? Rules about what?”

“You gave me rules to follow. I was wondering if I got to make any in turn.”

Mella swished her tail as she turned with the road. Grassy fields lined our path, stretching out to the horizon on either side of us. Off in the distance, beyond some foothills, stacks of smoke rose into the air. They were too organized to be a random fire, so I suspected they were the signs of civilization.

The pleasant smell of sunflowers wafted around us on the warm breeze.

“You can make one rule,” Kyla eventually said. She glared at me as she added, “I’m not the person with all the memory issues. You could be a dangerous aberration, you can’t even deny that, so the rules are for my protection. If you feel like you need something for your safety, then—”

“If I ask for information, answer to the best of your ability,” I stated, cutting her off. Kyla was silent for a while afterward. I turned and met her gaze. “I can’t remember anything. I want to know as much as possible. So please—don’t lie to me, or omit anything because you think it’s trivial.”

Was that a rule for my protection? It was close enough, I figured.

Kyla thought about it for a long while. Then she smiled. “Okay. That’s fair. I won’t lie, and I’ll try to tell you everything I know, but just to be frank—I only studied at Thumma Temple, and not a fancy academy. I might not know certain things, either.”

“I understand.”

With our rules agreed upon, and the road narrowing, Mella picked up her pace. She was eager to get home, I could tell from the way she lifted her head and sniffed the winds. We were close.

Once the road met the foothill, we traveled up at a slight incline. Kyla occasionally leaned forward and rubbed Mella’s backside. She whispered kind encouragement as we went. The daylight was fading, dyeing the sky with oranges and reds.

As we crested the hill, I caught sight of Kyla’s village.

Dozens of wooden cabins dotted a small valley located between a collection of tree-covered hills. Smoke spiraled up from several stone chimneys, their scent laced with the fragrance of pine.

The whack of steel on wood sounded throughout the valley, and the crack of a tree being felled sent a flock of bluebirds shooting into the sky.

“This is Bagget Village,” Kyla said matter-of-factly. “Greenbell River is on the other side of the foothill. Most families here cut trees for a living, and then prepare the lumber. We float the finished logs down the river to sell to the port city near the coast.”

“I see.”

Kyla narrowed her eyes. “Was that enough information for you? Because I don’t know when it was founded or anything like that.”

I glanced down at my palms, examining the lines in my skin. “I’m looking for something important,” I muttered. “And even though I can’t remember what it is… I don’t think it’s in Bagget Village. So, I don’t think I need any further information.”

“Oh.”

My explanation quieted Kyla. She glanced away, her attention on a cabin at the far end of the village. We traveled down into the valley without any incident. Mella made the trek with such confidence that I suspected she had done it thousands of times before.

“There’s a shrine over that hill,” Kyla said as she gestured to the west. “It used to be beautiful and relaxing to visit, but ever since the last diviner passed away, no one has been tending to it. The plants are all overgrown, and it’s a little difficult to get to.”

“Why?” I asked.

“A mudslide ruined the road a few winters ago.”

I turned my attention to the western hill, listening to the wind. A pulse of life emanated from that direction, and I suspected Kyla was correct. Something sacred was over there.

“It’s late,” Kyla said with a sigh. “So, here’s the plan. We’ll go to my cabin, rest for the evening, and then leave for the shrine first thing in the morning.”

I returned my attention to her. “Rest?” I wasn’t tired. Why did we need to rest?

“You never know what kinds of strange things can come out at night,” she said.

As Mella pulled us into the village, the denizens stopped their chores to stare. A woman hanging wet clothes on a long line eyed me as our cart slowly rolled through the one road. She seemed surprised—or perhaps shocked—that I was here. She wore an outfit similar to Kyla’s which consisted of loose pants and a tight-fitting shirt.

“Kyla?” the woman called out. “Do you have a guest?”

Our cart rolled by at a leisurely pace. The woman stopped hanging her clothes and actually walked alongside us for a moment, her attention never leaving me.

Kyla smiled and motioned this strange woman away. “I’ll tell you about it later, Harine! It’s getting late, after all.”

Harine held a hand up to her mouth. With a coy grin, she asked, “Shall I bring over some pie for the two of you to share?”

“Harine,” Kyla hissed. She scooted to the edge of the cart seat and glared. “Don’t. Embarrass me.”

That seemed to amuse the woman more than deter her. She giggled and muttered something I couldn’t hear. Then she jogged back to her clothes line, finished hanging her garments, and dashed into her cabin home.

What an odd woman.

Or perhaps she was normal for this village. I wasn’t sure.

“We don’t get many visitors,” Kyla whispered as she moved back onto the cart bench.

Two children playing with a puppy stopped everything as Mella trotted past. They pointed at me as we went, though they didn’t say anything.

In total, I suspected fifty people lived here. I enjoyed glancing around and picking up on little details. Small logs, carved into the shape of dragons, were perched on the edge of most roofs. Were they little guardians? It seemed that way.

Flowerbeds were placed around every cabin, giving the village a colorful and inviting feel. The emotions in the air were tranquil and happy. Many people had lived here, and most had loved their stay.

It invigorated me.

Mella slowed her pace more as we reached the other side of the village. And older man stepped out of a cabin, his pants high on his hips, his coat hanging down to his knees. His white hair, wispy with age and wisdom, fluttered in the dying breeze.

“Kyla,” he said as he walked out to greet us. “I was beginning to worry.” Then he turned his gaze to me and stiffened. “Oh. Who is your companion?” He lifted a bushy eyebrow. “I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

The man’s essence seemed weak and fading. He was fragile—like the men in the woods—but gentle and warm.

I slid off the cart and said nothing. Kyla instructed me to remain silent, so I did.

She also disembarked from the cart and quickly walked around her mare. “Oh, uh, this is a… a traveling diviner! Yes. He got lost in the Ember Hollow, and once I told him about our village’s shrine, he said he wanted to investigate.”

“Ah.” The older man offered me a smile. “That is good news. Our shrine has been neglected, unfortunately. I hope we haven’t angered any spirits.” He chuckled and pulled his pants up even higher.

Again, I said nothing.

Then the man’s gaze fell to my bare feet. He stared for a long moment before returning his attention to my eyes. “You seem quite… interesting. What is your name, Diviner?” The man placed a hand on his chest. “I’m Winfred Offest. I care for the village as its elder.”

Kyla stepped in front of me. “His name is, uh, Nichet Barks.”

“Nichet? Like your dear ol’ father?” The elderly man’s eyes widened. “What a coincidence. Perhaps this is good fortune.”

Kyla laughed with such an awkward and forced tone, I wondered if she was also choking. I gave her an odd glance, and she waved a hand in front of me, as though she wanted me to remain quiet.

“I’m going to take Nichet to my cabin,” Kyla eventually said. “Then I’ll take him to the shrine in the morning. Afterward, I’m planning to head to Linglade for a few days. Don’t worry if I’m gone, all right? I found lots of interesting things in the Ember Hollow, so I’ll have plenty of trading to do.”

Winfred didn’t argue. He smiled and gestured to the village. “I’ll make sure everyone knows.” Then he pointed to a man not too far down the road, just beyond Kyla’s cabin. “Also, make sure to speak to Renold. He just came here from Linglade, I’m sure he’ll have information about the roads.”

Renold …

The man was in his prime, tall, and his black hair oiled enough to stay slicked back. He wore dark clothing made of wool and leather, and he stood with more confidence than the others in the village.

He smelled different.

Once Winfred headed back into his cabin, I turned to Kyla. “Who is he?” I pointed to Renold.

“Renold is a merchant,” Kyla replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He stops by the village on a regular bases to sell us all sorts of minor goods.”

“You know him well?”

“Sort of. Why? He’s just some local trader. There’s nothing interesting going on with him.” Kyla frowned as she grabbed Mella’s reins. “And I don’t need him to give me updates about the roads. Renold never gives me fair deals on anything I find, so I’m not really keen on him.”

“I see.”

His essence…

Was strange.

Mella yanked on her reins, practically pulling Kyla toward the house. The mare nickered and stomped, obviously ready to be done for the day.

“May I speak with Renold?” I asked.

Kyla lifted an eyebrow. “Are you asking my permission?”

“You told me not to speak to anyone.”

She snorted out a laugh. Then Kyla was dragged toward the house, despite the fact she had dug her heels into the dirt. “I guess I did say that… Well, Renold’s not technically part of our village, so he doesn’t count anyway. Just don’t tell him about anything that happened in the Ember Hollow, okay?”

“All right.”

“If I don’t put Mella away soon, she’ll throw a tantrum.”

That was true.

Kyla pointed to the lone cabin across the road. “That’s my home. Don’t take too long speaking to Renold. Just walk straight to my cabin afterward. If you’re gone too long, I’m going to come looking for you.”

I nodded once and then immediately headed to the merchant. I didn’t want to waste any time, since there wasn’t much to spare.

The merchant sensed my approach. He turned to face me, his eyes sharp, his breath coppery. Unlike the highwaymen in the woods—and the people of this village—who all had weak essences, this man had power.

I stopped a few feet from him.

The sun set behind the hills, filling the sky with indigo. Despite the waning light, I saw Renold’s expressions perfectly. He sniffed the air, regarding me with the same curiosity I had shown for him.

We were alone on this road, dozens of feet from the nearest cabin. Renold stood with a tense posture, even as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets.

“Why, hello there,” Renold said with a grin. His white teeth were clean, but the smell of blood lingered on his breath. “You’re new to this village. Haven’t seen you around before. My name’s Renold Gart.”

“No, it’s not,” I stated.

The man never lost his grin, but it hardened into something sinister. “Ha! You’re a strange one.” He stepped close and lowered his voice. “It’s rude to call someone out like that.”

“What are you?” I asked.

“I could ask you the same question.” Renold held out his hand. “Shall we have a more formal introduction?”

He wanted to touch me. To feel my essence—and the pulse of my life—clearer than before. That was fine. I wanted to know more about him as well.

I placed my hand on his palm. The instant our skin touched, I felt the grime of his life force, and the blood that soaked his very core. I ripped my hand away, confident in my assessment.

He was deadly and powerful. He used his essence to hide his true form—he wore the skin of a human to blend in with them.

Because, in reality, Renold was a monster.