AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She stepped closer. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” He stretched his limb. “Just pulled something when I went over the fence.”
Her own body ached, so she understood.
They started walking, but they hadn’t gone far when Serene noticed the eyes in the trees watching them. A closer look revealed a host of brown-mane monkeys looking down on them. “That’s unnerving,” she muttered.
Cardon grunted beside her. “I hate the jungle. It makes me feel caged.”
“It’s the creatures we’re cagedwiththat worry me.” She thought she heard a low growl in the distance and imagined a panther stalking them. She sidled closer to Cardon. “Do you think we were the targets?” she asked, needing a distraction.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem likely. Few people know we’re here.”
True. Although she now wondered if she’d made a mistake in contacting the man at the Fiddler. He might have betrayed her. Or the owner of the Panther’s Den could have been to blame. Or Dakaar, as much as she didn’t want it to be him.
There really was no way of knowing at this point.
“The tribes haven’t been this aggressive in years,” she said. “I can’t believe things have gotten so bad.”
“It certainly doesn’t bode well.” He brushed a vine aside, holding it as Serene stepped past. “It makes me worry about the situation in the capital.”
“What situation?” She hadn’t told him what Dakaar had told her—that the capital and castle were all but sealed to outsiders and the royal family had not been seen in months.
Cardon shrugged. “Who knows what we’ll find there. I think it’s safe to say at this point that something is terribly wrong in Zennor. I’m beginning to think the castle won’t be the safe haven we were hoping for.”
“I’m glad Imara is safe in Duvan.” She was oddly grateful for her cousin’s injury; she didn’t want Imara anywhere near this place.
Cardon snagged her elbow, halting her. He raised a finger to his lips, urging her to remain silent.
Other than her thundering heart, she complied.
The entire jungle had quieted. Even the clicking chatter of the monkeys had stopped. She turned back to Cardon, and in his eyes she saw a reflection of her own anxiety.
A twig snapped.
Cardon whirled, drawing his longsword as he barked at her to run.
A dart flew out of the bushes, barely missing Cardon, and then two tribesmen attacked.
Cardon lifted his sword, stopping the downward swipe of the first attacker.
The second warrior raised the bamboo pipe to his lips, his focus on Cardon’s exposed back.
Serene lunged, knocking the man aside before he could shoot the blow dart. He growled and dropped the bamboo weapon, then tried to grab her wrist.
Serene palmed her knife and sliced his grasping palm.
He hissed and drew his own knife; she ducked around his angry slice and came at him from the side.
Her knife sank in to the hilt, catching him between his ribs. He cried out and buckled. Serene heaved out her dagger, bile climbing her throat at the sight of blood. Her body trembled as she gripped the blood-streaked knife. She watched as the tribesman fell, his body going still.
She had trained for years to defend herself. She’d even killed before, in defense of herself and others, but the actual reality of taking a life never ceased to rattle her.
Still shaking, Serene turned—and her heart stopped.
Cardon was on the ground, his sword beside him. The warrior he had presumably slain was curled on his side nearby.
“No.” Serene gasped and darted forward. “No, no, no—Cardon?” She knelt, her hand going to his face. “Cardon, look at me.”
