Adeline?” Revilo murmured, incredulity shading his voice.
Chapter 11 — The Lost Champion. Mark of the Shadow — Book 1 of the Phantom Lord Saga.
Welcome to MARK OF THE SHADOW, an epic fantasy novel written by Oliver Evensen and Taryn Brewer. If you’re new here, you can start at the beginning, start right here, or get caught up with the Table of Contents.
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Being jostled around in a giant pot was not how Ned expected to get out of this predicament. He'd lost count of how many times he’d slid back and forth in the pot, slapping into Revilo and Nyra. Getting slapped in the face with tubers, carrots and onions only added to the indignity. Still, he was grateful for Ivel’s intervention.
“Whew, that was some quick thinking, Ivel!” exclaimed Ned. “And the second time you’ve saved my life. Thanks, big guy.”
Ned playfully punched him in the shoulder, causing Ivel’s cheeks to flush. He set down the cooking pot, releasing a cloud of steam that mingled with the fresh forest air. As soon as the pot hit the ground, Ned, Revilo, and Nyra sprang into action. They burst out, each covered in a layer of grime from their cramped and undignified confinement.
“I’m going to be sick,” Nyra said, clutching her stomach.
“Sorry,” said Ivel. “But I couldn’t allow them to eat you.”
“You performed admirably,” Revilo said, ringing water from his tunic. “The thought of being devoured by scavs was unbearable... especially with such subpar seasoning.”
Laughter bubbled from Ned’s throat and even Ivel and Nyra couldn’t help but join in. Despite their dire circumstances, they were alive, together, and finally free of the Scav Clan, at least for now.
Ned took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, “I know we’ve come a long way, but we shouldn’t stay here too long. The Scavs will soon realize their error. Take a quick breather and gather what remains of your gear.”
Nearby, Revilo was already rummaging through the scattered items that had been hastily shoved into the pot during their frantic escape. Nyra, looking more determined than ever, brushed the leaves from her shoulders and darted her eyes across their makeshift campsite.
“Where’s my bag?” she murmured, a hint of urgency in her voice.
“Here!” Ned exclaimed, tossing it to her as he grasped the axe and Havashal. The weapons were coated in grime and would require a good cleaning, but Inari only knew when he’d find the time to do such tasks. He despised being on the run, but what choice did they have? “Everyone gather round, we need to talk about what we’re going to do next,” he said, his voice steady as he tried to mask the lingering fear of what they had just escaped.
Thankfully they all complied and soon they were huddled together, exhausted but determined.
“I realize we don’t have much time,” Ned said, “but we need to talk out a few important matters before moving on. The truth is, we are lucky to be alive. Events could have unfolded quite differently.”
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