“How much time has passed since we spoke last time? Decades? Centuries? I’m getting worse at tracking time … I believe, traveling is at blame here. Moving from place to place can be very disorienting. But enough about me…”

The first part of a letter to Nahar

Harvey Logan

Things’ve gone bad.

And they say I can’t read the room, Harvey Logan thought as his gaze swept around. Yucca village was burning, thick, ash-laden smokes filled the sky above only to mix with the milky clouds. Garhala’s balls. Harvey Logan spat on the ground.

A flicker of motion to his left. Now, this must be someone from the band.

Unfortunate villagers, if sane must have left the cursed village when the killing began. He made a step toward the spot where he saw the motion. Then he reconsidered. What if some insane villager armed in a razor-sharp spear has decided to stay and defend his hard-earned possessions? Gurhala take me … or not. The God of Death may find my company palatable and I don’t crave his. The third step was interrupted by a warcry, and a figure jumped out of the hut. A savage armed with a spear rushed toward Harvey Logan. His eyes widened as the shock struck him. A distance of twenty paces separated them, and Harvey Logan knew right there he wouldn’t be able to outrun the madman, so he stood there quietly counting the last heartbeats of his life. Or so he believed. An arrow appeared out of nowhere, hit the charging savage in a shoulder, the man collapsed in a cloud of dust. Harvey Logan gathered his wits and set off toward the oncoming young scout who just saved his life.

“What was that?” Emm asked stopping by.

“Nothing. I had everything under control.”

“You just stood there … I just saved your miserable life.” Emm’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Precisely my point.”

Now, this will give him something to chew for a while. Harvey Logan turned to check on the savage. The poor man lived, his chest rising and falling. There was nothing Harvey Logan could do to ease the villager’s pain.

“We should get moving,” the young scout said. “There may be more like him.”

“Apt suggestion.”

As it turned out the suggestion indeed was apt, but late. Out of the billowing smoke and from between two huts on fire, came running Siddy. Terror on his face told more than a thousand words. In a couple of heartbeats, he passed them and carried on toward the bush. Harvey Logan and Emm looked at each other, not a single verbal cue passed between them, and yet they started at the same time and ran like a Tree Rider running away from a Tree Cutter. Ahead of them, Siddy was swallowed by the jungle. Not more than a hundred, maybe a hundred thirty paces they’ve covered, and Harvey Logan’s legs sagged down. He risked a look back and cursed himself. Three dozen enraged savage warriors headed their direction. Garhala, I was kidding … I hope you understand that. Obviously, the God of Death remained silent. Ten heartbeats later Emm nimbly slid into the jungle. Harvey Logan followed his steps and found himself ensnared by a shrub. Sounds of the barbarians were closing on him, a rush of adrenaline pushed energy into his limbs, and he burst forth. Twigs slapped his face and he tasted blood. Not for the first time he wondered where he’d made a mistake of accepting one job too many.

In Harvey Logan’s mind, the jungle—literally—was a different world. Scents, sounds … the air itself – everything was changed. And the damned Drowner Monsoon isn’t yet here. Harvey Logan stumbled onto a little clearing. His gaze darted in every direction save for the one he came from, but he was not wiser than a moment ago. The world around, made up of a thousand shades of green, interweaved with many exotic colors. Above him, huge, heavily draped with foliage, trees cast shades so deep that some spots have never come out of the gloom. That—Harvey Logan noticed—could prove his only way out of this hell. The clearing extended for fifteen paces forward – a sort of a trough of a long-dead stream. At its end lay hollowed boles. He padded ahead, dead leaves rustled under his feet, and he scowled at the ominous realization – he could hear no one else. Even the savages—

A hand shot from between enlarged leaves and pulled him inside, Immediately, another hand covered his mouth. His eyes met Emm’s tense gaze. The young scout squatted making absolutely no sounds. Something that Harvey Logan couldn’t attribute to himself. Emm picked a well-thought hide. A canopy of enormous, heart-shaped leaves swept above them. On either side, impenetrable shrubs writhed with the invisible threads of air. Behind the young scout lay a tunnel of sorts, a path scoured in the bush. Emm’s glanced back, reading his intention.

“Children’s Trail,” Emm whispered. “We won’t get through.”

CRACK

Emm froze. Harvey Logan’s heart tried to claw its way out his chest.

Spear’s flint-head stabbed the air inches from Harvey Logan’s ear. Emm was already on its way into the Children’s Trail. That little snake! He’s half my size. Harvey Logan followed, uncaring of closing shrubs, he dived into the trail. Behind him slashes, angry voices, and sounds of stabbing the ground. I’m going to die in Musalem-cursed-children-damned-path. This isn’t good. That isn’t the end I envisioned for myself. Emm has been right. The tunnel got tighter, shrubs, twigs, roots, and god-knows-what-else attacked Harvey Logan from every side. The elegant, official-looking shirt, he’s worn to the meeting with the village chief, was caught by a sharp, shallow root, which didn’t let go of it. Cursing the Pantheon, cursing the Royalblood Houses of the Red Cities, then cursing everyone else who just came to his head, Harvey Logan shed the shirt and crawled after the scout.

Eventually, he ran out of breath and came to a halt. The forest-cursed scout had disappeared sometime earlier. Harvey Logan’s clothes shredded to pieces gifted him an appearance of refuge who had escaped from a thousand-teeth beast. I’m so dead, he sighed but resumed his crawl again. The trail ended with an abrupt drop. Moss-covered stones made up the mouth of a cave. He counted it a miracle that the pursuers haven’t yet caught up with him. Bypassing the cave seemed impossible. The thickness of the shrubs around looked absurdly dense. Whatever this Children Trail is – I hate it. He jumped into the cave and landed on a soft bed of dead leaves. The cavern was twice as high as him, circular, ten paces to either wall. The place was gloomy, but Harvey Logan could see well, save for nooks and crannies, where impenetrable darkness ruled. The second source of light came out of the exit near the ground on the left wall. The place stank as a latrine.

“If I’ll meet the sneaky scout, I’ll drown him with my own hands,” he said to himself.

“It’s good you got out of that trail alive, but we aren’t yet safe.”

Harvey Logan whirled around, a hammer beating an anvil drummed in his chest. The young scout stepped out of the darkness.

“You left me there,” Harvey Logan said accusatorily.

“I’ve decided to invoke an ancient law of this forest—”

“Which is?”

“Run, of course.”

Harvey Logan grunted. A smile waded through layers of fear-fermented emotions.

“So, what now?”

“We must get out of the cave and join the rest.”

“Interesting. I had a vague notion that you’re the smartest in the lot,” Harvey Logan said before Emm strode ahead. The cave’s corridor was fifteen paces long, rough but otherwise straight. They emerged from the cave, the brightness of a day blinding them temporarily. Once acuity of their eyes returned, a vista of a heavily forested valley spread before them. The hill ahead rose slowly from this side to end sharply on the other. There lay a river, a name of which, Harvey Logan couldn’t recollect. They’d planned to end the scam in the town called Huka, the town located upon the said river. We should have ignored Yucca and go directly to Huka after we learned that Yuccans had recently rebelled against the empire. But Harvey Logan understood well by now that his companions were anything but reasonable. Red Bill smelled coins and Yuccans invited the slaughter by refusing to pay the tax. Idiots, all in all, deserved each other.

Next to him, Emm checked on his bow. After some adjustments, the scout put the bow behind his back and looked up to Harvey Logan. The youth reached up to Harvey Logan’s shoulders, not overly muscular, but tough like old leather. Emm was harder than he looked. And here he stood without a single scratch, while Harvey…

“These cuts must be checked by Perkins if can find him.”

“Now that you said it, they began itching.”

Emm smiled but said nothing. Okay, little bastard. Eventually, I’ll find a way to repay you. Maybe one of those alchemical concoctions that make your skin itchy for days, Harvey Logan thought, but he knew deep down that Emm has saved life again.

The scout checked the stone platform they stood on. The massive oval stone protruding from the side of the hill. Its surface crisscrossed with cuts and ripples. Both sides of the cave’s mouth and platform were crowded by large, moss-covered boulders. Their arrangement seemed treacherous. Harvey Logan stepped close to the edge and risked a glance down. The coronas of trees covered the ground so there was no telling how far down, there was. His heart increased its rate at the sight, and he backed off. Emm examined the rock formation above the cave and if his face was an indication of the potential prospect of their escape – then Harvey Logan expected, the worst lay ahead of them.

“This must have been a waterfall.”

“So not the Children’s Trail, then?”

Emm faced him. “It is. But it seems that Yuccan children are smarter than us. I don’t see—oh” Emm wheeled about and walked to the edge of the long-dead waterfall. Then he added, “so, this is how they leave this place.”

Harvey Logan frowned, not accepting the truth revealed before him. It can’t be. I must have misunderstood him. “What do you mean?”

“To leave the trail we must jump down.”

“But—”

Harvey Logan clapped his mouth shut and with rising terror watched as the young scout disappeared behind the verge. Now what? He came closer to the edge and listened. But nothing except cracks of broken branches reached his ears. If I die here, I’ll be a laughing stock in the afterlife. Then, it’d be best to hope that there is none. While he struggled with indecisiveness. Sounds with alarming alacrity came from behind. Clicks, slashes, thuds, and occasional curse in an unknown language. Savages, they are finally catching up. Still, he couldn’t push himself behind the edge. Then he heard a sudden hump and rustle of leaves in the cave. A savage introduced himself with a high-pitched wail. Harvey Logan turned in time to see the charging warrior. Out of habit, he made a step back and his foot didn’t find footing. A heartbeat later, the world rushed around him. NO! Just before the crowns of trees swallowed him, he saw the warrior diving after him. Madness. These savages are insane. He plummeted through the crown, his back met the first branches and twigs. Pain flared and he blacked out, not feeling the contact with the ground.

The darkness receded instantly heartbeats after the fall. He blinked, straining the stinging muscles of his face, just in time to see Emm extending his hand in a swing.

“Wait!” Harvey Logan raised his hands. “I’m awake.”

Emm halted the swing and grimaced. “Oh. I almost had you.”

‘No patronizing, alright?’

Emm frowned at that confused. Harvey Logan knew how to inspire uncertainty. He and looked around. Where was the savage? The body of the warrior was nowhere near. Then he heard the struggle above. A smile split his face when he found the female-warrior entangled in lianas. She snarled when she noticed his attention. Harvey Logan waved to her then shifted his gaze back to the scout.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure out if you insulted me or not.”

Their conversation had no chance to go further. Shouts and curses and something that Harvey Logan interpreted as insults sounded nearby. Emm’s head snapped, he went down to a crouch. Harvey Logan followed.

“Red Bill.” Good. Best we leave him be. He’d already said we’d only get into his way.

If Emm felt similar sentiment he didn’t show it. He pointed at the source of the voices and swiftly darted ahead. Harvey Logan sighed, then rushed after him, leaving the dangling female-warrior. Shouldn’t we run the other direction? What about your ancient law of the forest, huh? His silent complaints obviously remained silent. Lest someone from the band hear him. Harvey Logan must have been close enough because the clinking of the metal reached him. A horrible whisper, this promise of death. With a dangerously high speed, Harvey Logan burst out of the bush and cursed. People in the clearing turned heads. A dozen savages faced Red Bill. At least the man lived up to his name, soaked with blood he sneered at the savages. Not the wisest thing to do. Despite the advantage, the savages kept the distance. Their spears out, but they stood in a defensive formation if one could call it a formation at all.

Harvey Logan lowered his gaze and raised his hands. “I’m sorry, fellas. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He begun backing off, then thumped into something. Slowly he turned, his hands still up in the air. His breath caught. The female-warrior let out a forewarning growl. Harvey Logan nodded and when attempted to sidestep, her fist connected with his jaw. He stumbled forth, only to land on four. Without thinking he rushed ahead, still on four. Dense shrubs grew around the clearing and he wished for another Children’s Trail. Garhala please show mercy and let me live. I promise I’ll start throwing coins into stinking, gaping holes, your followers call your temples. A kick snatched him from the ground, and he tumbled up to the shrub. It took him five heartbeats to regain his breath. Broken ribs for sure, he groaned. Somewhere to his right, sounds of clashing metal returned. Where is Emm?! More importantly, where are Siddy and Perkins? I need that dirt-cursed healer alive. The female-warrior stood above him. Her hands on her hips. She was massive, somewhat pretty. Except maybe for the once-broken nose. Harvey Logan knew it was not the proper time, but her large chest had a certain gravity.

“Imperial dog,” she growled. Gods, she’s still thinking we’re the Imperials. Now, was it good or not?

Her hand grabbed his tattered undershirt and pulled up. The material tore free with ease, the impetus of the pull forced her back. She bared her teeth and assailed again. Panic surged with ferocity, instinctively Harvey Logan kicked the approaching female-warrior right in the nose, breaking it anew.

His eyes widened as he realized what he’d done. “I’m sorry!” he shouted toward the stumbling woman. On his right, hulking Red Bill was sending people into Garhala’s embrace. Four savages lay, presumably, dead. Unusually, curved machetes in each hand slashed with deadly precision. Red Bill must have been as skilled as a commoner can be. Would this man be a Royalblood… Harvey Logan imagined with horror. The Royalblood Houses would tremble. I better go. He scrambled to his feet and rushed between shrubs. Each twig’s slash delivered itch and burning sensation, but there wasn’t stopping now. That ghastly woman, she wouldn’t relent. And how can I kill a woman? In truth, even if Harvey Logan tried, the chance that he’d succeed was thin. He descended to the valley’s bed he’d seen from the dead waterfall. His descend was dangerously fast. What if I stumbled upon another clearing with another band of savages? Yet, he didn’t dare to slow down, behind him like a tumbling boulder followed the female-warrior. She was throwing curses in her wild language. She was closing on him, desperation pushed out all the thoughts save for the wish of survival. The lushness of the jungle made it impossible to see farther than fifteen paces, so it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t saw the sudden drop.

The world went crazy.

He couldn’t tell how long it lasted. He wasn’t even sure if he blacked during the journey down. When everything stopped whirling, he returned the last eaten meal and attempted to stand on jelly legs. The high fern carpeted the bed of the valley. Gurhala take me. I’m alive.

Somewhere to his right came sounds of hasty passage. Harvey Logan dipped down, cursing premature relief. Out of the bush darted Siddy, his face white with raw terror. Did I overtake him? Harvey Logan watched as the bandit sprinted past him without heeding his presence. Not that Harvey Logan gave out any clue. He counted heartbeats, expecting a party of savages. They wouldn’t see him well-hidden in the high fern. He halted on thirty heartbeats but expected savages didn’t arrive. In their place trotted a massive tri-horned rhino. You can’t be serious. Above it, malicious monkeys swept on their overlong arms, sneering and taunting the rhino. This place is a madhouse. The rhino paid no mind to the monkey. The beast must have been eleven feet tall. The onyx-like horns were two feet long and suspiciously sharp. The rhino slowed down fifteen paces from Harvey Logan, then as it halted the overlarge snout snorted loudly. A wave of pungent smell reached Harvey Logan. A bout of coughs came suddenly. He tried to cover his mouth with a hand to withstand the attack, but it didn’t do any good. Having no choice, but to cough, Harvey Logan lay down flat and release the cough as quietly as possible. The monkeys became aware of him and began, louder than earlier, making sounds that reminded Harvey Logan of laughter. He looked up and realization filled with terror crystallized in his mind. The monkey held round fruits in their hands, their ugly faces smiled. Smiled! Immediately, the monkey started throwing the fruits in his direction. Hard as a stone, the fruits bombed him from above. Harvey Logan tried to duck, hide under the thicker, larger fern, but the monkey followed him now. Gods, what is going on? Garhala take you, bastards! A fruit hit his ribs and he groaned. No matter where he tried to hide the painful rain of fruits descended on him. Enough of this! Enough! Harvey Logan stood up and found the tri-horned rhino’s eyes tracking him with suspicious attention. Then he understood Siddy’s haste. With that thought and darted in the same direction as the bandit.