The Keeper's Retribution: A Chosen Novel (The Keepers Book 2) Page 17

  “Then you stay. Now tell the others where to go so that we do not waste any more time.”

  “Fine,” he snarled, his fury palpable. He was visibly shaking when he said, “East side of the jungle by the river, near the border to the Broken Vale. That’s where I Saw them last.”

  Kael and Lucian exchanged a look.

  “The nearest portal is an hour walk from the border. We will need to leave now,” Kael said.

  “What about a stone?” Ronan asked.

  “They’re all spent,” Kael replied with a shake of his head.

  “We go on foot,” Lucian said. “Everyone grab what you need. We leave immediately.”

  Effie couldn’t help but notice how their group had diminished. It’d been small to begin with, but less than a week ago there’d been six of them, plus Zane and Xander, investigating Sylverlands and now they were down to four.

  It made the jungle feel ominous. As if the threat of what was waiting for them alone was enough to pick them off.

  Not that it was necessarily true. Only one person of the initial eight was willingly staying behind due to her slow recovery, and the two Sylvanese men weren’t even in the same territory at present. But still . . . the feeling lingered, causing Effie to keep glancing back over her shoulder to peer into the shadowed areas between the trees.

  Something was out there, but would they find it before it found them?

  With each step, she grew less certain of the answer.

  Effie was with three of the strongest warriors in history, and it wasn’t exactly like they were stepping onto the battlefield. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that they alone wouldn’t be enough.

  “Do you know what’s waiting for us?” Effie asked Ronan, keeping pace with him just behind Lucian and Kael.

  He shook his head; his face set in hard lines. “No. Whatever Kieran shared with the Triumvirate, he did before we arrived. Clearly, they didn’t think the information was pertinent.”

  Effie mulled it over, trying to follow the thread of logic in why they’d hold back information. “Maybe there was nothing specific to share,” she said eventually, with a little shake of her head.

  “How do you figure?” Ronan asked, pushing a bowed branch up so it wouldn’t smack him in the face.

  “Well . . . if his dream was about Jo and Tess before they went missing, it’s possible there was nothing specifically amiss. The dream could have just shown them and nothing more . . . sinister.”

  “Hmm,” Ronan said, picking up the thought. “So, then we’d be looking for a sign of capture instead of corruption.”

  Effie nodded. “Although the two things aren’t necessarily unrelated. Not with the Triumvirate thinking this has the potential to be another marker.”

  Ronan’s expression darkened. “Let us both pray to the Mother it is not. The last thing we need is a third marker to pass without any sign of Helena.”

  “Still?” Effie asked, a tendril of fear snaking through her.

  He gave a terse shake of his head. “She never would have left if she had any doubt that we’d be safe in her absence.”

  “Should we send for the rest of the Circle?” Effie asked.

  “Kragen and Joquil are off searching for Von and Helena. Timmins remains at the Palace in case she sends word, and to ensure that things continue to run as smoothly as possible.”

  “Do they have any idea where she might be?”

  “Our best guess is she went to visit the pride in Talyria. It’s the only realm that is closed to us.”

  Effie’s heart sank. “It’s been weeks. Surely she’ll come home soon?”

  Ronan gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure she will.”

  But would it be in time?

  Determination solidified within her, and Effie stood a little straighter. “If we have to face this without Helena, then it’s time we plan for that eventuality. I never was one for sitting around and waiting for someone to come rescue me,” Effie said, pulling not just Ronan’s attention, but also her Guardian’s.

  She gave Lucian a small smile, and he gave her an inscrutable look in return before turning away.

  “We’re hardly sitting,” Ronan said, gesturing to the jungle.

  “No, but we’re not coming up with ways to fight the corruption either. Without a plan, one of these days, we’re going to walk straight into something we won’t walk away from.”

  “Is that what you See?” Ronan asked, his blue eyes spearing her with their intensity.

  “I don’t need a prophecy to show me that.”

  Ronan fell silent as they continued forward, his voice soft when he finally spoke. “What do you suggest?”

  “Helena cleansed the land before. That means it can be done. We just need to find a way to replicate it without her.”

  “Without Spirit magic, you mean?”

  Effie let out a frustrated sigh. This was the exact thing that had been weighing on her. Chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes fell back to the Guardians in front of her.

  “The Chosen aren’t the only ones with magic. Maybe the answer lies elsewhere.”

  Ronan followed her gaze, his brows lifting. “What are you hinting at?”

  “The Guardians have the ability to manipulate the essence of any living thing. Surely they can do something about the corruption.”

  “Don’t you think they would have by now if it was that easy?”

  Effie shrugged. “They might not know how without being tainted themselves, but that doesn’t mean they can’t. We just need to help them figure out how.”

  “You don’t give up once you set your mind to something, do you?” Ronan asked with a small chuckle.

  Her answering grin was feral. “I wouldn’t be alive today if I gave in easily.”

  His expression shifted, eyes darting back to her bruised wrists. “No, I don’t suppose you would be.”

  Eyes still on Ronan, Effie didn’t notice the odd pile of branches until the sharp crack rent the air. With a yelp, she flew up, her ankle supporting her full weight as she flipped upside down and into the trees.

  Three distinct voices screamed her name, sending birds fleeing their perches.

  She watched, pain ratcheting through her leg, as Ronan reached for her. Effie’s arm strained as she tried to grasp either of his proffered hands, but she was moving too fast, and soon all there was in every direction was a sea of green.

  Now having a better idea about how Tess and Jo were taken, Effie knew there wasn’t a second to spare. She struggled to pull herself upright, clawing her way up her ensnared leg until her upper body was parallel with it. Not sure what to do with her other leg, she settled for keeping it curled into her chest.

  Banding both arms around her extended leg, she used her arms to hold her in place and fought to catch her breath. The rush of blood to her head made her stomach roll, and she quickly started to shake, the position awkward and adding pressure to the place where the rope coiled around her ankle.

  Searing pain lashed through her ankle, and she let out a low gasp. A quick check with one hand told her it wouldn’t be as easy as untangling the rope from her leg. There were jagged metal teeth woven through the coarse strands. Two of which had already dug deep into her skin, hot blood dripping down her leg and coating her fingers.

  With a grunt, Effie glanced around. If she didn’t find another handhold, fast, she would soon be too slick with her blood to maintain her grip. The nearest branch was above her, not a far reach if she could manage to swing herself up a bit more, but tricky with the barbed pieces of metal jutting out from the rope.

  Or she could risk dropping down.

  Effie craned her neck, seeing the thick branch about a body’s length beneath her. If she could cut through the rope, she should be able to drop down onto the branch and perhaps scramble down the rest of the way.

  Fingers trembling, she ran them along her leg, letting out a scream of frustration to find that her dagger had fallen free. Patting aroun
d to the other side of her body, Effie could have wept when her fingers ran over the sharp blade of her second one.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, quickly working to free it from its sheath. The dagger slipped in her wet hand, and her breath caught as gravity tried to pry it out of her slippery grasp.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” she growled, tightening her hand around the dagger’s hilt.

  Effie’s relief was short-lived, however, as a new problem presented itself. To cut through the rope at her ankle, she had to find something besides her leg to hold onto. As it was, her fingers were already starting to slip along the leather of her pants. It was hardly an ideal handle. Furthermore, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to properly plan her drop down to the branch, and would be just as likely to crash all the way back down to the jungle floor below.

  “Elder’s rotting rod,” she snarled, not immediately finding anything she could use.

  The snap of a branch had her eyes darting to the left, but the shivering leaves were the only evidence that something—or someone—was coming for her.

  “Hello?” she called, hoping that maybe it was one of the men coming to free her. It was a futile hope, and she knew it since they would come from below—not above—but it sprang forth all the same.

  When there was no answer, Effie shifted her grip on the dagger, her decision made for her. There was no time to waste. A fall through the trees it would be. Hopefully she’d manage to grab hold of something on her way down. It was that or stay hanging here trussed up like some holiday goose. Neither was a great option, but of the two she preferred the former.

  Grunting, she began sawing at the barbed rope in earnest. Its cords were tougher than she realized, the sharp blade of her dagger barely cutting through the first of the fibers when two more distinct cracks sounded just above her.

  A heavy pressure settled in her chest, robbing her of breath. Effie didn’t dare look up as goosebumps erupted along her arms.

  She was out of time.

  Her moves grew frantic, blood dripping down her hand as more of the jagged metal pieces snagged into her soft flesh. Effie bit back a cry of pain, the surge of adrenaline spiking through her, helping her maintain her focus.

  A low chittering sounded, and Effie grit her teeth.

  It was here.

  The rope was as thick as three of her fingers, she’d barely managed to cut through a third of it. She was completely and utterly fucked.

  Heart pounding, Effie lifted her chin, her eyes scanning the leaves above her. She sucked in a ragged breath, her eyes widening as two faces pushed through the leaves, peering down at her with snaking eyes, their blood-stained teeth bared in savage smiles.

  “Lookie what I caught for us, Tess. A plump little mousie.”

  What had once been Tess licked her lips. “Delicious.”

  Effie screamed, the sight of her missing friends so unexpected she lost her hold and fell back, her only weapon joining its twin in the jungle below. There was a sharp tug on her ankle as the metal dug in deeper and the rope once more held the entirety of her weight. Pain exploded behind her eyes.

  “Look at the mousie dance,” Jo cackled as Effie swung from the rope.

  “Stop playing with our food,” Tess snapped, her hoarse voice a sibilant hiss.

  Another garbled scream was torn from Effie’s throat as the rope surged up, sending shooting pain all along her leg. Black fog swam at the edge of her vision, threatening to pull her under, but she fought against it. Freedom from the pain was a lovely thought, but unconsciousness would be the death of her.

  More branches batted at her as she was pulled up through the trees until her bottom half was being dragged against a splintered wood floor. She could feel the creatures’ hands on her legs as they pulled the rest of her body into their treetop lair.

  Bile burned in the back of her throat as Effie braced herself for what came next. This might be her last opportunity to even the playing field. Especially without a weapon.

  Flexing her stomach muscles, Effie arced up, snapping the rest of her body into the darkness and using the momentum to crack her head into something that felt like stone.

  There was a satisfying crunch and the spurt of something warm across her forehead as her head flew back. She wasn’t sure who or what she hit, but she hoped like hell it hurt them half as much as it hurt her.

  “Mousie’s a bad girl,” a voice thick with blood sneered somewhere to her right.

  Still disoriented from bashing her head into what she fervently hoped was a skull, Effie didn’t move before the second creature scuttled over her body, pinning her arms down on either side of her.

  The smell of decay and rotting flesh filled her nose as the Shadow formerly known as Jo opened her mouth in a snarl.

  Saliva dripped from her mouth and splashed onto Effie’s face as she hissed, “Bad girl, mousie.”

  Thankful for the sparring lessons with Kael where he’d forced her to get herself out of similar positions, Effie used her good leg to shift her weight and toss the creature off her body.

  Crouched against the wall, Effie quickly took in her surroundings. The wooden building was small, built for children perhaps, and had clearly seen better days. The wood was rotten and damp, a few moldy blankets tossed along the floor. It was wider than it was tall, and there was barely enough room for an adult to stand upright. At least one of average size. For once, her small stature would work to her advantage.

  That might be the only thing currently in her favor.

  Two against one were rarely good odds. Add to that the lack of weapon and a shredded ankle, and things were looking decidedly grim. The odds may be stacked against her, but she was not about to die in this Mother-forsaken treehouse.

  Fueled by a feral need to survive, Effie scanned the dim room and eyed the two Shadows crawling toward her. There was nothing she could use against them, save her hands.

  Hand-to-hand combat it is, then. Effie pushed to her feet and curled her hands into fists, angling her body so that her injured ankle was behind her and not bearing any of her weight. It was an awkward position, but it was the best she could manage given the circumstances.

  “Mother as my witness, if I get out of this alive, Lucian owes me a damned arsenal of weapons. I’m tired of finding myself without one when it matters most,” Effie said in a bland tone, feigning a casualness she did not remotely feel.

  “Oh, you won’t be leaving, mousie,” Tess said, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

  “Not alive,” Jo crooned.

  “What are you waiting for?” Effie taunted, bringing her fists up the way Kael had taught her.

  Everything faded, her vision tunneling until all she was aware of were the two women lurching toward her.

  Alright, Effie, you can do this. Get them on their backs. You can’t use your legs so you need to get them on the floor. They aren’t full Shadows—otherwise their blood would run black—so you should be able to stun them with a few well-aimed blows. The head would be best. You need to get one of them out of the picture quick so you can try and fight them one at a time.

  She continued to feed herself directions, her mental voice as steady as if she was Kael or Ronan talking her through drills.

  The women broke apart, choosing to come at her from either side. It was a smart move, as it would split her focus, but Effie anticipated it. She threw up her left elbow, striking Jo in the nose and then twisting and following it up with a punch to the throat. Jo stumbled back.

  Tess grabbed at her waist, and Effie hopped to the side, using all of her strength to push the woman off of her. Tess went flying, and Effie blinked in surprise. She knew she’d been getting stronger due to all of her morning training sessions, but there was no way she should have had the power to do that. Especially not to someone infused with a Shadow’s innate strength.

  The distraction cost her. Jo was back, her broken nails slicing into Effie’s skin as she reached to fist her hand in Effie’s curls.

  Eff
ie growled low in her throat and shoved both her fisted hands into the other woman’s stomach. There was a sickening crunch as ribs snapped in half and Jo bent over with a keening cry.

  A quick check revealed that Tess was still on the other side of the room, so Effie launched herself at Jo, tackling the woman to the ground.

  It was a graceless move at best. More a throwing of her body than a well-aimed blow, but it was effective nonetheless. Barely bothering to take a breath, Effie straddled Jo’s narrow hips and began throwing punches at her face. She could feel the crunch of bones beneath her fists, and the spray of blood as she continued to strike.

  The Shadow was screaming beneath her, trying to buck her off, but Effie was only focused on making each hit land. She aimed for the center of the creature’s head, seeing nothing of the woman who’d tried to be her friend. All she saw was an enemy. One that needed to be put down.

  Effie let out a savage cry, pulling back her arms again and again. Never satisfied, never pausing. She continued to rain down blows one after the other, until it was no longer clear whose blood coated her hands.

  Fury fueled her, spurring her on. A dark voice whispered in her ear that it was her or them. There was no choice. She was not dying today.

  These. Things. Would. Not. Win.

  Each word was punctuated with another wet strike.

  The body beneath her had long since stilled, but still, Effie didn’t stop. Not until the thing no longer resembled anything remotely human—and even then she continued to punch into the pulpy mess.

  Effie didn’t know what finally made her stop. Only that something not wholly sane within her calmed, settling back into its cage. She was shaking, her knuckles raw, and her body painted in blood.

  Chest heaving, Effie sat back on her heels, immediately shifting her weight to the left and off of her injured ankle as she searched for the second Shadow.

  How come she hadn’t made her move by now? Effie had certainly been distracted enough to make an easy target for the other woman.

  But Tess was nowhere to be found. What could she have possibly done to cause a Shadow to flee from her?