Chapter 120 – A Question Never Asked (4)

Alistair’s pained grunts shattered the charged silence. His shallow, gurgling breaths were loud, and so were the moans that escaped his lips.

A wind blew from the east, shaking the trees and rustling their leaves. The thick greenery moved along with the wind, shaking and bending to its whims. Shadows danced as the forest canopy shook.

Midhir tightened his grasp on the hilt of Willow’s rapier. The hairs on his arms raised as his gaze leapt from one shadow to the other as they shifted and changed. The rustling of the leaves made it difficult to hear any possible assailants, and the dancing shadows made it nearly impossible to notice any subtle movements.

“Hurry.” His voice was but a whisper, though there was no point in keeping it low. Alistair’s pain groans and shallow breathing was loud enough to alert anyone nearby.

Willow bit her lower lip while her hands clenched around the small, golden gem. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t make her healing resonance any faster. As all things, there was a limit to it.

Leaves rustled behind him. He spun around, holding the rapier’s tip slightly downward as he bent his knees a little, and planted his feet firmly to the ground. His gaze leapt from the ground to the lower branches of the trees, looking for someone.

There was no one there – no one he could see at least.

He straightened his legs, took a step back and looked around again. No matter how much he stared into the thick foliage, all he saw was the shadows of the trees, moving along with the wind. Then why couldn’t he shake the feeling that he was being watched?

Willow let out a sigh of relief as the glow of the crystal faded. She lowered her hands onto her lap. “I did all I could.” Her voice was but a whisper. “But I think we need to-“ Her eyes widened. She ducked, and just in time as a burst of flames passed through where her head was just a moment ago.

Behind her, hidden amongst the trees and tall bushes, a man clicked his tongue. The glimmer of a crystal revealed where he was as he began to prepare another resonance.

Midhir kicked the ground, leaping over the unconscious Alistair, and dashed towards the man. He lunged forward with Willow’s rapier. Sunlight glinted off the weapon as it found its target, piercing the man’s arm.

The man grunted as he dropped the gem he was holding. He jumped back, reaching for the sword hanging from his belt.

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His opponent wasn’t the only one there – he was sure of it. He needed to finish him off quickly, before his ally came to help. With a sharp breath, he once again lunged forward. The tip of the rapier found the man’s sword arm, piercing his clothes and flesh. As his opponent grunted and tried to retreat, Midhir lunged forward once more.

The man’s voice cut out with a wet gurgle as the rapier found his throat. Midhir pulled the blade out, letting the lifeless body fall to the ground. He couldn’t waste time. He bent down, quickly searching the man’s pockets.

Aside from a couple of silver pieces, he carried nothing with him. With a scowl, he turned his gaze to his hands – a ring. He snatched it, then turned around and glanced at the ground. The red gem was laying on a small mound of leaves, easily spotted. He threw it in his pocket, then hurried out of the shadows.

“Are you ok?” Willow asked as he walked out of the foliage.

“Yeah.” He handed her sword back to her. “We need to move. There are likely others, so be ready.” He crouched by Alistair, and carefully picked him up. A grunt escaped his lips as his back and legs protested against carrying the young noble. “Why did he have to be so tall?” He muttered.

A smile flashed across Willow’s lips as she picked up Alistair’s spear. “I can make him lighter,” she offered.

Midhir shook his head. “No, you need to conserve your strength in case others attack.”

Instead of climbing uphill, they circled around. While he had hoped Alistair would wake up soon, the young noble didn’t even stir once by the time they reached Ilya and the others.

“Ilya!” He called out as they approached. They walked out from behind the shrubbery, only to see Ilya standing over three bodies, her bloodied sword in hand. “What-“

“I was about to come and get you.” The young princess’ voice was cold as ice, though she did show them a warm, relieved smile. “Is he alive?”

Willow nodded. “I healed him the best I could. He didn’t wake up though.” Her gaze turned to the Arwen and her father. “Is he…?”

Ilya raised her chin. “Victor is healed fully, but he hasn’t woken up either.” She pointed towards him. “Put him next to Victor, Midhir. I called for reinforcements, we’ll wait here until they arrive.”

He stretched his arms after putting Alistair to the ground. “We were also attacked.” He rummaged through his pockets, then pulled out the ring and the red gem. “The man had these on him,” he explained as he inspected the ring.

As he turned it around, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. “The twelve-part serpent,” he whispered. The eyes of the serpent were two tiny blue gems. He quickly gave the ring and the red gem to his sister. “They are part of the same cult then.”

Ilya nodded. “Yes.”

“Um, do you also recognise these men?” Arwen sheepishly spoke up, pointing at the three bodies on the ground.

Midhir scowled. They did seem vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint where he had seen them before. “I’m not sure…” he muttered. Maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him.

“Oh!” Willow exclaimed. “They were at the inn!” She pointed in the direction of the Prancing Lion. “They were playing cards or something. I passed by this one, and nearly tripped over his cloak.”

Ilya narrowed her eyes. Her chin tightened as she folded her arms. “Then they followed you here,” she concluded. “And tried to stop the sealing of the tear.”