Go further, Mac. Go deeper.
The sun had started to set before I realized what had
happened. It was the silence that made me realize it first.
There was no sound of the sea where I was – and I could not
see its blue waves in the distance. I had gone so far inland
that I could hear nothing at all.
My heart began beating faster as my senses came
back to me. What had I done? I looked around wildly. Where
was I? The monarch butterfly was gone. Had I imagined it?
I started running back downhill the way I came, but suddenly
the terrain seemed all unfamiliar to me. The paths twisted
and tangled, and each way was equally strange. I didn't
104
Princes of Paradise (M.A.G.E. #1 )
belong here, I knew, as my blood began to prickle and burn
with fear. I shouldn't be here.
And yet that calling – it had been so convincing, so
strong...
I needed to find my way back, I knew. I made my
way a bit further down the hill, trying desperately to make
out the direction of the sea. I looked down at my map, but it
was no use – I had long since vanished off its borders, into
the uncharted territories of white space. I started to panic as
my feet collided with a tangle of brush – one knotted so deep
that I couldn't manage to pry my way through. I heard the
sound of footsteps and looked up, my body flooding with
relief. So, somebody was there after all! Somebody was
coming to save me!
But as I looked up, my eyes following the shadow
that had been cast over the glade, I gasped with terror. The
footsteps were not of a person at all, but of a boar, its blood-
stained horns glistening in the evening sky. My heart began
to pound harder.”
“Nice boar,” I whispered. “Good boar...”
It stamped its feet into the ground. Its pale yellow
105
KAILIN GOW
eyes leered at me as it blew forth gusts of air from its nose.
Its horns looked even sharper up close.
I knew that look. It was going to charge.
In an instant I was on my feet, running faster, faster,
as fast as I could to get out of there. I coughed and spluttered,
agony flooding my body as my muscles started to produce
acid. But the boar was hot on my trail. It had decided I was
a threat, now; it had decided to gore me through. No matter
how fast I ran, the boar was at my heels, sniffing and
groaning from its great throat.
My legs were getting tired; there was no way I could
outrun it. “Help me!” I cried, my voice catching in my throat.
“Somebody help me, please!”
It was so close that I could feel its breath on my
shoulders – it was ready to strike.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the stab, waiting for the
pain...
And then I felt nothing. I only heard the rustling of
leaves, a groan of pain followed by a short, sharp thud.
I turned around to see the boar's body splayed out on
top of the leaves, its head clearly severed, staring up at me
106
Princes of Paradise (M.A.G.E. #1 )
with glassy eyes.
I screamed, then clapped a hand over my mouth.
If the boar was killed, then that meant only one thing.
There was someone else in the woods.
107
KAILIN GOW
Chapter 9
I looked around wildly for the killer of the boar, but
he were nowhere to be found. There was no sound – not even
a rustling of the leaves. “Hello?” I called out softly, unsure
if this mysterious figure was friend or foe.
At last I heard footsteps in among the leaves – human
footsteps, this time. A figure stepped out from the shadows
– and then another, and another, and another. A group of six
or seven men, their faces hidden beneath layers of paint,
stepped forth, spears held tightly in their hands. They wore
the traditional garb of Aeros – garb I had seen only in history
books.
In a flash, I remembered what my textbook had said:
The original indigenous people of Aeros Island intermarried
in the late first century AD with settlers from the Roman
Empire. The children of these marriages were known as the
Veteri , the Old People, for from then on each successive
108
Princes of Paradise (M.A.G.E. #1 )
wave of settlers brought new changes to the island. The
Veteri came to be identified by their distinctive face-paint
markings, a flame on one side of the cheek and an ocean
scroll on the other, to symbolize their twin origins: the fires
of the island volcano and the seas that brought the Romans
to them.
The Veteri died out in the late 10th century AD, when
the island was conquered by Vikings from Finland and most
Veteri abandoned their nomadic ways to reside in the
growing towns and cities of the island.
Evidently the history books were wrong, I thought
grimly, spying the distinctive flame and wave on the mens'
faces. Yet, beneath the paint, their eyes flashed dark
