The Outcast (Summoner #4)(48)
Prince Harold hesitated, his gaze lingering on Alice for what felt to Arcturus like a moment too long. There was something in that look, a raw emotion that Arcturus could not read.
Then Sergeant Caulder was pulling him away, and the three were gone, disappearing into the jungle with a crackle of branches.
“We should go too,” Rotter said, handing the makeshift spear to Elaine and drawing his sword. “Keep your crossbows loaded.”
He pushed his way through the brambles, and Sacharissa prowled after him, her nose low to the ground, hackles raised. Concentrating, Arcturus could sense the alien smells of the jungle blazing through her consciousness. The rich odor of the black soil beneath his feet, the fragrance of exotic fruit and flowers, even the stench of animal droppings, somewhere in the distance.
Arcturus could only follow, wanting to take Elaine by the hand to keep her close, but instead holding his crossbow, swinging it as the green leaves slapped against his face. It was useless—he could barely see Rotter’s back ahead of him, let alone make anything out through the thick vegetation.
Behind, he could hear Edmund murmuring to Alice, and wondered if they were talking about him. Were they plotting … would they use him as a bargaining chip, hold a knife to his throat if the rebels caught them?
This was his best chance—he could lose the nobles in the foliage, and circle back to their hunters. It had to be safer with them than striking out into the orc jungles, whatever they wanted of him.
He looked back and caught a glimpse of Elaine staring at the spear in her hands as if it were a venomous snake. He smiled at her with as much encouragement as he could muster, then stumbled and was forced to turn around once more. No … he couldn’t leave her.
“Have you ever been in the jungles?” Arcturus asked Rotter, hoping to distract himself from the hopelessness that seemed to grip him tighter with every step.
“Aye, we pursued an orc raiding party here once, after they’d slaughtered an entire village. Lost two men that day,” Rotter growled. “Never saw the brutes neither. Only the javelins that pinned my mates to the trees.”
That did not make Arcturus feel better, so he concentrated on following Sacharissa’s bushy tail as it swept back and forth in front of him, wagging frantically as she took in the new world. Despite their predicament, the boisterous creature was enjoying herself, and soon Arcturus could not help but smile as she snuffled back and forth along the ground, sneezing once as she accidentally snorted the dusty pollen from a bulbous flower.
Then the leaves fell away, and Arcturus stumbled into an open space, interweaving branches arching to form a loose thatch roof along what looked like a corridor into the forest.
“An animal trail here,” Rotter said, helping Elaine through. “We should follow it while it goes in the right direction. We’ll move faster, even if it gives the dogs an easier job following us.”
“Just a second,” Edmund said, peering into his scrying crystal. “Athena has arrived in Corcillum. There’s smoke in the air … looks like there were riots last night.”
“A distraction,” Alice said, leaning in to look. “Our parents would have spent the entire night helping fight the blazes.”
“She’s heading for the palace.” Edmund sighed. “If we’re lucky, King Alfric will be there, staying safe.”
“Where else could he be?” Arcturus asked.
“He might have left Corcillum and gone into hiding until the riots have ended,” Alice replied.
Rotter groaned with frustration.
“None of this will matter if we can’t get away from the dogs. We can discuss this later,” he said.
Already Sacharissa was roaming down the path, her nose seemingly affixed to the ground. There was a veritable bouquet of animal scents on the ground, made obvious by the many prints that littered the soil.
But instead of following her, Rotter crouched, holding his hand up to stop them. He beckoned them closer, and put his hand close to the ground, his fingers splayed. Beneath it, Arcturus could see a footprint, complete with five toes. Only … it was huge, as wide as Rotter’s hand and longer than the dirk still strapped to Arcturus’s boot.
The print belonged to an orc.
CHAPTER
27
ARCTURUS STARED AT THE imprint, struggling to fathom the size of the creature that made it. He had heard that orcs were enormous beasts, standing seven feet tall when full grown. But to see it … it boggled the mind.
“It’s a bull orc from the size,” Rotter said, his breath catching in his throat. “They must use this path. Arcturus, can your demon pick up its scent?”
Startled, Arcturus called Sacharissa over with a thought, and the demon immediately sensed his intentions, putting her wet nose to the footprint and sniffing deeply. Within his consciousness, the scent swirled about Arcturus’s head … it was a pungent smell, all body odor and sweat, with a distinctive tinge that he could not place.
Worst of all, Sacharissa was already nosing the ground in the direction they needed to go, tracking the spoor like one of the hunting dogs that followed them.
“It was headed the same way,” Arcturus said, trying to hide the apprehension in his voice.
“Well, we’ll keep our wits about us,” Rotter said. “If there’s just one, I can probably handle it, but you’d better release your demons now, just in case. Hurry, we need to move—they’ll follow our scents easily enough now, demons or no demons.”