“When he woke, I’d expected him to not remember a thing,” Mom said. “A blow like that should have scrambled his brain. But that thick skull of his saved him. Once he found out how long he’d been asleep, he’d wanted to charge right off.” She smoothed her apron with a quick flick of her hands as if still affronted by Belen’s lack of good judgment. “Of course, his leg muscles couldn’t hold his weight and he’d had nothing to eat but broth and bits of soggy bread for months. Took my bartender and two of my regulars to get him back into bed.”

“I’d bet Belen fussed about that,” Flea said, grinning.

“Oh, yes. Mr. Belen wasn’t the best patient. He kept insisting he needed to get back, but between the dizziness, headaches, and weakness, I wouldn’t let him go. And he listened to me until that horrible Skeleton King invaded Jaxton.”

“Was he better by then?” Kerrick asked.

“Much. But I’d hoped he’d be back to full strength before he left.” Mom fisted her apron. “I’m worried he’ll run into trouble.”

Kerrick rushed to assure her. “Belen can be impulsive, but he’s smart and a good scout.” As long as he kept his distance from the Skeleton King, he should be fine...unless he ran into one of Cellina’s patrols, or priests from Estrid’s army. “What happened to the priests that were staying here?”

“Ran off as soon as they heard about the High Priestess’s surrender to King Tohon.”

“Where did they go?” Flea asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. I was just happy to see the backs of their robes.”

“Have you heard anything about Cellina’s army?” Kerrick asked.

“Who?”

Interesting. The news about Tohon’s status hadn’t reached her. Perhaps Cellina was keeping it quiet. Kerrick filled Mom in on the news.

“Goodness, such a to-do. Poor Prince Ryne is stuck in the middle and surrounded by enemies.”

Her comment sounded a warning inside his head. “Why do you say that?”

“Because the High Priestess is to the east, and this Cellina is to the west, and the nasty Skeleton King is south.”

“More like southwest,” Flea said.

“South,” Mom insisted. “He’s taken the city of Dina in Tobory Realm, too.”

Shocked, he stared at Mom. Ryne’s information was dangerously out of date. No wonder he’d been so anxious to have Kerrick scouting for him.

Kerrick stood. “Flea, take Mom and Huxley and return to Grzebien. I’ll—”

They both protested.

“I’m going with you,” Flea said.

“No need to babysit me,” Mom said. “I can take care of myself. Have been for days. You boys go and find Mr. Belen, then we’ll all travel together.”

Kerrick calculated. Jaxton was three days away on horseback, which would add six days at the minimum to this trip. “Avry—”

“Is going to be so ecstatic to see Belen, she’ll forget to be mad at you for being late,” Flea said.

True, but he hated to worry her again. Perhaps he could send a message. “Is anyone else in town?” he asked Mom.

“A few diehards that refuse to leave. Not what you’re looking for, dearie.” She shooed him. “Go. The sooner you leave, the faster you’ll return.”

* * *

Three days later, Kerrick and Flea neared the outskirts of Jaxton. During the trip, they’d spotted a few groups of refugees, heading west at a fast pace, but no one else. And no sign of Belen. Using his connection to the forest, Kerrick searched as far as his senses could stretch, which was only about two miles now, less than half as far as he could before this...lethargy. Frustration gripped him.

Within the distant he scanned, Belen was not in the woods. That meant one thing. He was in Jaxton, either hiding or as a prisoner of the Skeleton King.

They waited until nightfall. Kerrick planned to follow the glows from the campfires of the Skeleton King’s army to locate them. He didn’t expect the loud chanting and drumbeats that started at full dark. He instructed Flea to leave with Huxley at the first sign of trouble.

“Yeah, like that will happen,” Flea said.

“Could you at least pretend you’ll follow my orders?”

“I could.”

Kerrick waited.

“Oh, okay. I’ll run away like a bunny with a hound on his tail.” He saluted with two fingers.

“A simple ‘yes, sir’ would suffice.”

“But not be near as entertaining.”

Shaking his head, Kerrick planned to limit Flea’s time hanging out with the monkeys.

Kerrick circled to the east of town. Bright orange light pulsed near the edge of the forest. At first he thought it was a huge bonfire, but then he recognized the building—the apartment house. Where he’d first seen Avry. Flames engulfed the structure as smoke billowed into the sky.

Figures danced around the fire, pounding on drums. They wore white armor and elaborate headdresses made of...human skulls? Kerrick squinted, but the horrific image only clarified. And the white armor—bones.

Revulsion, deep and primal, bubbled up his throat, tasting bitter and feeling like ash in his mouth. The plague had killed millions in a short period of time. Unburied dead bodies had been one of the unfortunate ramifications of that time. But it was despicable to use their bones for armor.

Kerrick scanned the crowd, watching the dancers. No one stood out or appeared to be the Skeleton King. No Belen, either. Slipping south, he spotted a number of smaller campfires. The town’s square was filled with milling soldiers and an array of tents. It seemed odd that the army hadn’t occupied the buildings. And where were the townspeople? The best way to survive an invasion was to play host and hope the army would leave soon.