Poisonwell (Whispers from Mirrowen #3)

Baylen spoke up. “You won’t kill a bear if you keep poking its hide with needles. You will only make it angrier. We want to kill this one.”


Tyrus shook his head. “No, Baylen, we cannot kill this one. You do not understand or appreciate the number of defenders in the forest. We must distract them. Make them hunt us. And we must stay out of their reach. If the King of Wayland marched his entire army into the Scourgelands, they would be decimated. There is no weapon we could use, not even the blade Iddawc, for there is no single enemy to slay. A smaller force will stand better odds of slipping through. When we’re attacked on all sides, we will gather around me and disappear. This is the part where you will all have to trust me. I will be the judge of when it is time to flee. The creatures who oppose us are driven by an intelligence. They do not always fight to the death. Sometimes they flee and then come again soon after. I have faced these threats before and survived.” His look was hardened with the experience. “I will decide when to flee. When I give the command—Hasten!—you need to come to me immediately. Grab my arm or grab each other and I will use the Tay al-Ard to bring us to another place. When I say the word, I will count in my mind for five seconds. Like this . . . one—two—three—four—five. You must be with me by the end or you will be left behind.”

Phae felt coldness go down her spine. She looked up at her father in shock.

Kiranrao snorted.

“You do not appreciate the savagery of our enemies. You do not comprehend how lethal they can be.” He sighed. “I do not expect that all of us will survive. That would be foolish in the extreme. We must have faith in each other and you must trust me fully to know when the right time is to pull away. Our foes are powerful. The Scourgelands have been a land of death for too long. In the city of Kenatos, there is a game the Paracelsus play called Bad-kejon. It moves very quickly and often turns unpredictably. Once we enter that place, we are playing Bad-kejon with a ruthless enemy who seeks our death. I won’t have time to explain my motives or my thinking to you. I won’t have time to persuade you why I’m trusting my instincts in a given situation.” His voice grew ragged and he took a leather flask from his belt and gulped down some water. “Those who survive this ordeal will do so if you obey and observe to perform every word of command from me . . . with exactness.”

There was stillness in the night after he spoke. Phae felt herself starting to shiver. Shion nudged closer to her, giving her a look of concern. She shook her head, biting her lip. Her father’s words conjured images of blood and death in her mind. How many of those joined around a smoldering fire would survive to the end? She did not know them, but she cared about the welfare of each of them. She believed some might die. The thought that most of them would was a price too horrific to consider.

“Taking into account that the last group you brought there met such a terrible fate,” Kiranrao said disdainfully, rising to his feet with the grace of a cat, “I supposed we cannot expect any better.”

Prince Aransetis rose as well. “If you are not up to the challenge, you are permitted to withdraw.”

Kiranrao looked over the Prince skeptically. “I do not fear you. I fear no one. There is nothing those haunted woods can send at me that I cannot handle. Know that.”

“Proudly spoken,” Paedrin quipped. “My master always accused me of arrogance.”

Kiranrao’s face contorted with anger. “Why do you waste our time, Tyrus?” he seethed. “If you do not trust giving me the Tay al-Ard, then let us go together. Just the two of us. I will get you to the center of that maze and then you can bring your daughter there in an instant. All this talk and worry is madness. None of these fools need die. I will bring you there myself. I swear it.”

Phae felt a shiver of fear go through her at the Romani’s words. She stared at her father with worry. Don’t trust him. He only wants the Tay al-Ard. If you go with him, he’ll kill you.

“We cannot succeed without you, Kiranrao,” Tyrus said softly. “I’ve known that from the beginning. You are impatient because of what is happening in Havenrook. Ending the Plague will do more to aid your people than anything else you do. We all go together. We will succeed if every person does his part. Including you.”

Kiranrao scowled and muttered something under his breath. He looked at Tyrus fiercely. “Are we going to wait around the coals all night? It will be dawn soon. What then?”

“We leave now. Hettie, conceal the traces of our camp. We go deep into Boeotia.”