Page 111

They walked through the city, weaving between the empty buildings, for an hour before they reached the rocky shore of the city. The Knotted Caverns were clear from where they stood in the light of the new day; thestriations in the black rock gave the illusion that the rocks were folding in on themselves.

The opening could not be seen, but Maude suspected that it would be an easy entrance to locate. How they would get there would be the real challenge.

The waters surrounding them, though glittering and beautifully turquoise in the sun, were dangerous and choppy. Waves crashed onto the rocky shore, rattling the ground beneath Maude’s feet. Unless they had a vessel, they would not be able to make it to the shore. Swimming was not a reality; the tides would pull them under before the brothers could stop it. If they had a boat, however, Maude suspected they could make it to the Caverns in no time.

She went to suggest her idea when Herrick finally broke his sullen silence, “We’ll need a longboat to make it there. If we try to swim, we’ll perish.”

Maude rolled her eyes at his dramatic words but nodded in agreement.

“There is no lumber around this godsforsaken city, so you’ll need to grow some trees,” Maude suggested, sitting on a rock and leaning back on her hands as she crossed her ankles in front of her.

She tilted her head to the morning sun, eyes closed and enjoying the warmth. If Herrick wasn’t going to speak to her, Maude would do the only thing she excelled at— pissing him off until he broke out of his moody silence.

Maude heard Herrick sigh and then move a few feet over to the side where a patch of soil still sat. The soft whoosh of rapid movement came from her left, so she glanced out the side of her eye to find Herrick raising both of his palms in one movement before trees sprouted from the soil. Removing his axe from his back, Herrick began to chop into the trees.Once he had fallen both trees he grew, he worked on cutting the trunk into usable sizes for the longboat.

The knowledge of how to craft a longboat seemed to be taught in both kingdoms at an early age. For funerals as well as for travel, these longboats were pivotal to their societies, so children were often taught to craft them. As she watched Herrick assemble the beginnings of the longboat that would carry them to the Knotted Caverns, Maude concluded that they had grown up with the same education.

It was this education that told her this longboat would not be finished in time for the full moon if she continued to be a stubborn fool. With the two of them working on building a single longboat, it could be finished by the next morning.

Maude heaved a sigh, her plan to annoy Herrick into submission crumbling like the dry dirt she sat on and stood to help the insufferable River General. If Herrick reacted to her change of activity, she did not notice.

Working to bend the tough wood into place, Herrick held pressure while Maude ran a small flame under the boards to give them some flexibility. The day wore on, and they worked in silence through it all until they could no longer use the light of the day to keep working. Half of the longboat was constructed, and they could finish it tomorrow in time to use it for the full moon in two days.

“We should’ve brought the last longboat with us,” Maude complained, picking loose splinters out of her hands. “Or at least sailed the other one into the ocean and looped back this way.”

“The river gets too choppy to navigate the closer you get to the ocean,” Herrick explained, voice monotone. “But besides that, the rocks that jut out of the water would have shredded the boat— and us— to pieces.”

Maude stuck hertongue out at his back.

“We’re about to lose sunlight; we should get going,” he said, moving away from her.

Maude followed him, growing tired of his sullen silence. While she would never vocalize it, she missed his jokes and lighthearted energy. Herrick had said little to her, opting to brood in silence for most of the day. Maude had tried to pick up the conversation a few times, but he was stuck in his thoughts.

Once they reached the houses that bordered the shore, Maude had had enough. She grabbed his arm to pull him to a stop.

“Listen, there is only enough room in this group for one moody bastard, and I have always had that role,” she started, frustration boiling over. “Tell me what has gotten into you.”

Herrick was silent for so long that Maude was sure he wasn’t going to speak. Finally, he let out a long breath, shoulders relaxing a bit.

“I don't know what you want from me, Maude,” Herrick said, his back still to her. “If I get too close, you push me away. If I stay away, you try to pull me close again.”

“You’re just sulking, and I don’t understand why,” Maude said through her teeth.

“Let it go,” he said, attempting to walk away again.

Maude wouldn’t budge, though; she reached for him again but stopped short as she heard a shuffle from somewhere close. Herrick, having heard the sound as well, froze. Slowly, Maude withdrew her sword and dagger while Herrick took out his battle axe. No more sound came from the otherwise silent city, and Maude began to relax when they each heard the release of an arrow.

“Get down!” Herrick shouted, placing a hand on her shoulder and pushing her to the ground.

A chorus of battle cries came from their right. Looking up, Maude saw raiders streaming out of houses with rusty swords and axes high.

“Damn it,” Maude seethed as she counted how many raiders were running toward them. “These aren't great odds.”

The first wave of raiders made it to where they stood, backed against a house. Maude swung her sword down, catching a raider in the chest and stopping him short so she could stab her knife through the thick cords of his neck. Herrick had created a wall of vines between them and the rest of the wave, but it would not hold out for long.

“Ditch the flora and move the dirt around us into a wall instead,” Maude growled at Herrick as she ducked to avoid the blow from another raider’s short sword.

When she straightened, she brought her dagger up with her and into the ribs of the raider in front of her, causing him to drop like a stone. Herrick, understanding what she was asking, swung his axe through the belly of the raider in front of him. The crimson blood that flowed from the fatal wound mixed with the white and black paint they used on their arms and faces, causing the colors to run.