“Damn it, Lennox – do you have to kill everyone you question?”
Lennox simply shrugged, and Soren shook his head.
“While I have you here, I have an assignment for you,” he told him, who brightened at the prospect of a mission. “That girl we let go – I want her dead.”
“Then why didn’t we just kill her when we had her in our hands?”
“It was more important to kill what she stands for than to kill her.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Letting her live tells the world that I didn’t think her enough of a threat to dispatch. By letting her go, I diminished her, and word will spread to this effect. The foolish hope that she gave those we haven’t yet crushed will be snuffed out. That’s more important than her life. But, now that that’s been accomplished, there’s no point in letting her continue to live.”
“My thoughts exactly, sir.”
“Then we agree. Have her tracked down and executed however you see fit. Feel free to extinguish her entire party. They’re irrelevant, so do with them as you wish.” Then, remembering his promise to Cera, he corrected himself. “Except for the blonde. Don’t touch the blonde. Understood?”
Lennox agreed, and Soren wondered if the man could be trusted to practice restraint, but he was the best tool available for the job, despite his crudeness.
“Dismissed,” Soren told him and turned to stare out the window at the burning city. Bayre, he thought.
Lennox left Soren and made his way across the city to the temple grounds – that would be the most likely place for him to find his assassin. He walked through the shattered gates of the temple and looked for the building in which the monks would perform their devotions. He spied a tall building and judged it a reasonable place to start looking.
Entering, he looked up at the light filtering in through the black and grey stained glass set high in the ceiling. At least it survived the sack of the city, Lennox thought. He stared at it for a moment, musing that people thought he only savored destroying things, but that wasn’t true – there were other things he appreciated. In particular, he felt that the monks who worshipped death were kindred spirits.
“Are you going to stand there all day?” a voice mocked him.
Lennox looked about for its source and spied a man lounging in a pew. “Roml,” he greeted him. “I thought I might find you here.”
“At your service,” the man replied.
Lennox sat down beside him and looked around at the wreckage of the room. “Weren’t you once a monk?” he asked.
“Freelancing pays better,” Roml replied. “Besides, a man should have occasion to ply his trade.”
“Which is killing people?”
“It sounds so crass when said out loud.”
“Well, I have a job for a man with your skills.”
“Thank the gods – all this butchery lacks subtlety. What do you need?”
Lennox described Kala.
Roml sat back, and his eyes glinted darkly as he took it all in.
25
Kala
Brother Grey advanced on Kala, sword in hand. The two priestesses raised their crossbows but held them casually.
Kala pulled her swords from her back and strode toward him. “Not the reunion I’d imagined,” she said to him, raising them into a defensive position.
Skye took a step forward, and the priestesses pointed their bolts at his chest.
“Stand down, Skye,” Kala called over her shoulder, never taking her eyes off Grey.
Grey didn’t break stride as he raised his sword arm and sliced through the air where her head had been, had she not ducked and stepped aside.
“Glad to see you, Kala,” she said in her best impression of Grey’s voice.
He swung at her again, and she dodged the strike.
“Glad to see you too, Brother Grey,” she said conversationally.
He feinted a slash and instead smashed his pommel into her side.
She wheezed and clutched her side, stepping back out of his range.
“Kala!” Skye called, concerned.
“Stay back,” she warned him.
“Ignore him. He’s not here,” Grey told her.
“He speaks,” Kala mocked, and raised her swords again, grimacing at the pain in her side.
Grey resumed his attack, and Kala parried, then pressed him with an attack of her own. He parried it easily, and when she overextended herself, he shoved her roughly off her feet. “Too slow,” he concluded.
“Piss off,” she spat as she regained her footing.
He waved her forward, and she answered with a blinding series of slashes.
“Faster,” he commanded as he dodged and parried her thrusts.
She attacked, and he fell back, then swung unexpectedly and cut open a wound across her left thigh. She winced and staggered forward, favoring her other leg, but lifting her swords and waving him forward.
He stepped toward her purposefully and slashed at her repeatedly.
She dodged his every blow, despite her wound screaming at her. She tamped down the pain, locked it away deep inside, and resumed her attack.
He spun on a misdirect and smashed her full in the face with his elbow.
She staggered back, spitting blood. “If you ruin my good looks,” she smiled through bloody teeth, “I’ll never forgive you.”
He moved toward her, but she cleared her mind and gave herself over entirely to her anger – every hurt, every defeat – she embraced them all and roared toward him. They met in a clash of steel, and sparks flew off the edge of their blades. They moved so closely and so quickly that Skye could not follow their movements, and stared slack-jawed and helpless.
Kala moved inside Grey’s striking range, dropped her swords, grabbed his sword hand, twisted the weapon free of his grip, and held its point to his throat. The world caught up to her, and she came crashing back into her body to find herself holding Grey pinned against a pillar, his own sword at his throat.
He raised his hands in surrender and slowly pushed the sword point away from his throat.
She knew he was just as dangerous unarmed, but for some reason, she let him.
“Glad to see you, Kala,” he said.
“Glad to see you, too, Brother Grey,” she replied, and lowered his sword, spitting blood. “What the hell was that all about?” she asked, handing him back his sword.
“Kala!” Skye cried. “What are you doing?”
“Thank you,” Grey said, and slid the sword back in his scabbard. “Kala, huh?” he asked.
“That’s what my friends call me,” she replied.
“Okay, Kala,” he began, trying out the sound of her name. “I was just testing you.”
“What the hell for?” she asked and waved Skye over.
“Just checking to see if you deserved my help.”
“If that’s your idea of help, I think I can live without it,” she said and turned to pick up her swords.
Skye walked up, and Brother Grey held out his hand. Skye stared at it in disbelief.
“It’s okay, Skye. This is Brother Grey. He has questionable ways of expressing his friendship, but he’s not the enemy.”
“Are you sure?” Skye asked.
“Can anyone be?” Kala replied for Grey.
“You’re learning,” Brother Grey observed happily.
The two priestesses walked up, prompting Kala to rib Grey, “Quite the ladies’ man aren’t you Grey.”
He looked at her blankly.
“Come on,” she complained. “That was funny. You could stand to loosen up a bit.” He didn’t look like it was in him, so she asked instead, “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you – obviously,” he replied.
“Obviously,” she laughed. “Obviously, I’d be hanging out on this windswept plain, and you thought you’d just pop in for a visit.”
“You leave a trail that is pretty easy to follow. Bodies and all.”
“Okay, I�
�ll give you that – but why were you looking for me?”
“To offer my help.”
“What makes you think I need your help?”
“Come on – We both know the force arrayed against you. You can use any and all help.”
“All right, I’ll give you that too, but I thought the Church was decidedly non-interventionist in these matters.”
“It is, but I’m not so sure it should be.”
“I thought you were a believer, Grey.”
“I am. That’s the point. I’m beginning to think that the Priestess’s agenda diverges from that of the Church.” He let her absorb this. “Do you remember your prophecy?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “How can I forget it?”
“You never read it too closely, or the original for that matter.”
“And?”
“The prophecy says that the girl, that’s you…”
“I get it, Grey,” Kala interjected, annoyed.
“The prophecy says the girl will not be beaten. Hence my little test. If I could best you, then you’re not her.”
“I could have saved you the trouble – I’m not her,” Kala replied.
“I beg to differ.”
“Well, everyone’s entitled to their opinion, I guess. So tell me how you can help.”
“Everything in time,” he replied, annoyingly cryptical.
“You frustrate the hell out of me, Grey,” she concluded.
He smiled a rare smile. “Want to take me to meet your friends?”
She sighed. “Follow me,” she said and led him back through the ruins toward the river, favoring her uninjured leg. She looked over her shoulder at the airship.
“It’s not going anywhere,” he assured her and pulled an amulet from under his collar.
“You look good in jewelry,” she teased and led onward.
They arrived back at the shoreline just as the sun was beginning to set. Kala limped forward, with Skye on one side and Grey on the other, the two priestesses following behind.
Hawke took one look at Kala’s bloody face and hurled a dagger at Grey’s head. He caught it deftly and handed it to Kala.
“It’s okay, Hawke,” she told him wearily and tossed him his dagger.
“Who are these people?” Hawke asked.
“I’m not sure I can call them friends, but I don’t think they’re enemies,” she replied.
“Well, that doesn’t really help, does it?” Hawke replied.
“Hawke, this is Brother Grey. Brother Grey, Hawke.”
Brother Grey waved a curt greeting, and Kala introduced the rest of her party. She inclined her head toward the two silent priestesses. “Their names?” she asked Grey.
“Priestess,” Grey replied.
“Helpful, as always,” she commented drily.
Forest returned with a brace of prairie dogs and was stunned to see the newcomers. “We have company,” she noted.
“Yes, we do,” Jarom replied. “Can I help you with those?” he asked and gestured to the prairie dogs.
“Sure,” Forest replied, shrugging them off her shoulder. “They’re stupider here,” she said, mostly to herself, and Jarom smiled as he took them from her and waved Nara over to help.
Skye looked at the small supply of wood and felt guilty for having gone off with Kala rather than helping. “I’ll go gather more wood,” he suggested.
“Good idea,” Jarom replied and tossed him an axe that landed at his feet, making Skye flinch despite himself. “You’ll need that,” Jarom said, and returned his attention to skinning the prairie dogs.
Skye picked up the axe and looked about for the nearest woods. Kaia pointed over his shoulder, and he smiled his thanks.
“I’ll join you,” Grey offered. One of Jarom’s cousins handed him an axe, and Grey walked over to Skye. He noticed Calix and paused. “One of you is hurt.”
“Yes,” Kala admitted sadly.
Grey waved over the priestesses. “Help him,” he ordered and turned back to Skye. Grey ran his finger along the edge of his axe to test its sharpness. “Ready?” he asked.
Skye nodded, and the two of them headed toward the woods.
The priestesses approached Calix and began removing his bandages.
“Don’t,” Dhara intervened, but they ignored her.
Kaia had to restrain her, saying, “Let them see what they can do. They can’t make things any worse at this point.”
Dhara relented, and the women continued their examination.
“Heat some water,” one of them instructed Kaia, judging her the more reasonable of the two sisters. She judged correctly, as Kaia grabbed Jarom’s helmet and carried it to the river, returning and placing it in the fire.
“Do you know how hard it is to clean that thing?” Jarom complained.
“So, bring a bucket next time,” Kaia replied but did so lightheartedly. Once the water boiled, she brought it over to the waiting priestesses, who removed the poultice and cleaned the wound. “This probably saved his life,” she said to herself, and Dhara relaxed somewhat.
The second woman pulled jars and vials from the folds of her tunic and applied them to the entry and exit wounds. She pulled a roll of fresh bandages from another pocket and began redressing the wound.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any spirits with you in those magic pockets of yours, would you?” the man who’d lent Grey an axe joked.
The woman pulled a small flask from inside her tunic and tossed it to him.
“By the gods,” he declared, staring at it, then dropping to one knee. “Marry me, fair maiden.”
Nara shoved him over, and he rolled away laughing, taking the flask with him, a cousin hot on his heels.
Forest and Jarom began roasting the prairie dogs and had just thrown the last log on the fire when Grey appeared carrying a fresh armful of wood. He dropped it beside the fire and brought the axe back to the man who had lent it to him.
“Where’s Skye?” Kala asked, concerned.
Grey shrugged over his shoulder and handed the axe back.
“Here I am,” Skye called out, emerging from the dark into the light of the fire. “Grey is inhuman,” he said.
Kala laughed, and Grey looked at her critically.
“I mean, I could barely keep up with him,” Skye corrected.
“No,” Kala corrected, “you were right the first time.” She smiled, and Grey rolled his eyes.
Grey conferred with his companions quietly, then sat down beside Kala. “Your friend is not doing well,” he said quietly enough that only she could hear.
“I figured,” she replied. “He took a sword clean through the shoulder. We’re not giving up on him, though.”
“I fear you’re wasting your time.”
Kala didn’t have time to respond before Forest announced that dinner was ready. One of Grey’s companions passed around some cheese and dried fruit, and a little bit of strength returned to each of them. They lay down to sleep that night more content than they’d been in a long while.
Kala balled up her tunic as a pillow and prepared to close her eyes. She noticed Hawke sitting awake and keeping an eye on her. “Get some sleep,” she told him.
He looked over at Grey, who had retired with his companions, and replied to Kala, “I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t trust him either, but until he gives me a reason not to accept his offer of help, I’m going to take it at face value.”
“Forgive me if I don’t share your optimism.”
Kala laughed. “If only you knew,” she replied and closed her eyes.
She woke to find that Hawke had fallen asleep sometime in the night, and she was thankful for it. She rose to see that Grey was staring out across the river. She walked up beside him.
“You’re being followed,” he told her.
She stared where he was staring. “What do you see?”
“I don’t see it – I feel it,” he replied and turned back to the fire. “Doesn’t matter,” he added. �
�We’re not staying.”
Kala asked for everyone’s attention. “We’re leaving by airship to find allies. Think hard about who we can ask. In the meantime, follow me,” she said and led them to the ship.
As promised, the airship that Grey had arrived in still sat on the dais, surrounded by rocky pillars.
Dhara placed a hand on Kala’s shoulder. “You can make these things go wherever you want?” she asked.
“More or less. Why?”
“I know where to get help for Calix,” she replied.
Kala tamped down the hope that rose in her. Dashed hope was crueler than any injustice she’d endured. She looked skeptically at Dhara.
“Doesn’t he deserve the attempt?” she asked. All the times he’d offered his hand to help Kala up flashed before her, and she couldn’t disagree. Dhara read it in her eyes. “Then trust me.” She said to Kala’s silence.
“Okay,” Kala consented. “Where do you need to go?”
“Home,” she replied.
Kala pulled out her journal and opened the page to her well-worn map. “Where’s home?”
Dhara stared at it, and Kala pointed out the location of the city they’d just left. Dhara traced her finger over the map. ‘I think this was the river we took north, so my village is one of these points,” she concluded.
“Okay,” Kala replied, pulling out her amulet, explaining how it functioned, and handing it to her.
Dhara took it and embraced Kala firmly. “Where do we meet back up?” she asked.
Kala turned her map around and pointed to the star on the east coast. “Here,” she said. “Bayre.”
Dhara and Kaia pulled Calix’s sled to the airship, while Kala explained to Grey that Dhara would take this ship, and they’d hail another one. He nodded his assent as Dhara and Kaia helped Calix aboard. Dhara waved from the doorway.
“Good luck and gods’ speed,” Kala called to her.
Dhara closed the door, and the ship lifted off.
Kala looked around for a signal stone, but Grey waved her off. “Already called one,” he told her.
Kala counted the number of people in her party. “Are we all going to fit?” she asked.
“That’s why I called a big one,” he replied.
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