Assassin of Curses: (The Coren Hart Chronicles Book 3) by Jessie Eaker (best novels in english TXT) 📕

it first in the body and then in the head. That seemed to get its attention. The beast must have decided we were too much trouble and released me, sliding deeper into the murky waters.

I scrambled back from the edge and let my heart calm down. Falling through the sky hadn’t been that terrifying.

Fumiko plopped down beside me. She then pointed to the other floating logs nearby. There were a lot of them. And if their number was any indication, it didn’t look like we were going to be moving off our little island anytime soon.

She sighed. “I think I’m not liking this place.”

I leaned back on the grass and swatted at another insect biting me. “Me either.”

Suddenly, the bracelet on my wrist flashed hot. I sat up in alarm. Unexpectedly, Zofie spoke.

“Coren,” she said, still wearing that blank expression.

Fumiko and I turned to her in surprise.

She continued. But while it was Zofie’s voice, it sounded more like Abe. “Whatever you do, don’t piss them off.”

“What?” I asked.

“And the princess says, smile.” It was the same advice she had given me when we met the keepers for the first time.

That was when I felt something pointed nudge me in the back. I swiveled to see a large, well-muscled man behind me. He was mostly naked except for leggings and a loincloth. He held a long spear tipped with what looked like a solid piece of very sharp obsidian.

And he wasn’t alone. There were two others with him, likewise armed.

Fumiko reached for her sword, but I halted her with a hand on her wrist.

I then slowly rose to face the newcomers. Remembering Zofie’s advice, I did the only thing I could think of.

I raised my arms and smiled.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

An Old

Friend

The native used deep strokes to propel the dugout rapidly through the water. The village up ahead on the shore of the river seemed to be our destination. From his well-muscled back, this must be a trip he made regularly.

While they did surprise us on the little island, they seemed friendly enough. Unfortunately, we did not share a common language. Although we had tried to communicate, their leader had finally laughed at our attempts and just patted me on the shoulder.

But it was Oddfrid they were most interested in. Their leader quickly examined him, and then directed the others in loading him into one of their three dugouts. The biggest of their number paddled away with him as fast as he could. The two men left behind split our party between the remaining dugouts and followed the first at a more sustainable pace.

After traveling out of the swamp and through a thick forest of partially submerged trees, we finally emerged into the river proper. A rather sizable village with clusters of mud and grass huts sat on the river banks. The natives paddled for a sandy beach near the densest group of shelters.

As we approached, a small gang of children, laughing and jumping, ran to the water to greet us. Boys and girls alike were shirtless, wearing only loincloths. They called out to the approaching dugouts, and the men would call back to them good-naturedly. Some of the older children even swam out and escorted us back in.

Our hosts beached their dugouts on the sandy portion of the bank and helped us get out. Several adults met us, chattering in their native language. Like the others, the men just wore loincloths, but the women were dressed in loose, colorful tunics that came down to just below their knees.

They directed us into the village and sat us down on grass mats around a central stone fire pit. Then they served us some kind of meat and vegetables roasted on a stick and some slightly bitter tea. We hadn’t eaten all day, so this was a welcome treat. They watched with interest as I fed Zofie but didn’t interfere or make a comment.

By the time we were done, we had collected quite the crowd. Two young girls about Cabrina’s age seemed to take a particular interest in her. They seemed fascinated with the youth’s light brown hair—which was in sharp contrast to their own dark curls. She was quite embarrassed with the attention.

They then took us back down to the sandy beach, gave us each a piece of floral scented soap, and pantomimed washing. They were treating us well, so I had to assume they were trying to politely say we stank. Unfortunately, we probably did.

Several of the women came forward and pulled away Zofie, Fumiko, and Cabrina. I was reluctant to let Zofie go, but Fumiko agreed to watch after her. They took them farther down the shore behind an odd partition I had seen earlier. Several of the men stood with us and continued to pantomime washing.

Taking the hint, Spraggel and I stripped down and washed at the river’s edge. I noted that while the women were afforded some privacy, the men were not. Several of the women watched with amused interest. I blushed when one of them stood on tiptoe to get a better view. She winked at me.

When I came out of the water, my clothes had been replaced with a plain tunic and slip-on sandals. Then, with the sun just resting on the horizon, they took us back to the firepit, where we waited for the others. It was only a few minutes later that Zofie, Fumiko, and Cabrina joined us. They too had been dressed in long flowing tunics in a pattern similar to the other women. Their hair had also been washed, and for Zofie and Cabrina—Fumiko’s being too short—had been woven into a complex braid and spiraled atop their head. The final touch was a large flower affixed to their hair. I had to admit they all looked