by A. S. Etaski
I squinted. “Mention?”
“Opaque and sibylline, I assure you.”
I didn’t know what the second word meant, but he looked away before I could ask, his manner evasive now. He waved at our mount.
“If you will, guide the mare. It is still dark.”
I moved forward. “And we shall encounter the Ma’ab by dawn.”
“Roughly.”
Gavin didn’t speak after we got on our way; as usual, he had a feast of thoughts to choose from to keep himself occupied. I did as well, but I envied him his apparent admiration for his “Lady” and the proof of an active education. He had learned to understand the Ma’ab language while he was dead, for Goddess’s sake! I envied that purpose he drew from whatever “sibylline” direction she provided in his dreams, which somehow involved me.
He could ask her for guidance. He knew how far the warp rot valley was, he was right.
This appeared opposite of my relation to my Valsharess, who compelled me with fear and illness, who let me stumble around following the vaguest of trails. Any oblique warning She may have shown me was useless as I fell into dangerous pits of unawareness, lacking any understanding of past events which brought me where I was. I could not trust or rely on Her, as I’d not any elder female in my life.
Sent away for some unfathomable service. To return below for more of the same. Kept ignorant, indeed.
Touching Auslan in Reverie had been the most rewarding moment in this entire sojourn. He was still alive, I was certain. Under strain but unbroken.
Like me.
While we embraced, I only knew that I wanted to protect him, to reassure him that I wouldn’t treat him like the other Matrons. As a trained Consort, he hadn’t asked as to the health of the womb he’d helped to quicken, for that was not his place. In hindsight, I wished he had, for my effort thus far proved that it mattered to me.
Perhaps a healer-by-touch could tell without asking.
The Reverie had shifted to one of abject danger; it had become Shyntre facing off with Auranka. The need to escape, to not be seen, had clashed with that same impulse to protect him. Shyntre, whose temper I had pushed because I always got a reaction. He was entertaining. Challenging.
Bold as any cait, shouting at the Drider Keeper like that.
Admirable, if foolish. If it had been real.
The Valsharess had believed Shyntre was the sire of my unborn; why She did not execute or condemn me.
And I know why.
Seek the Sisters. That is what you must do.
We cantered toward our enemies in silence, and I found myself smiling and calm. I may not have a wiser female guiding me on my mission, but I did have a purpose and two remarkable buas who admired me somehow, who wanted me to return. I couldn’t protect them where they were, but I could draw a new strength from their memory.
It was a feeling I liked, because Troshin Bend loomed smaller on the horizon. If Shyntre could show that much spine to an Abyssal abomination, I anticipated this chance to do the same with a self-serving group of Ma’ab nobility.
We entered a stretch of road where Gavin’s night mare did not need constant direction, and I tugged off the glove which did not hold her talisman. Tugging out the Ma’ab’s ruby, I also touched Soul Drinker with the same hand.
~You awake?~ I jested.
It sniggered. *Always. Sleep well, did you?*
~I did. As you promised, show me the most effective way to use this gem.~
*Certainly, Blue Eyes, but promise me at least one Ma’ab kill in exchange. Without question or hesitation.*
~One kill, yes. I’ve already decided who.~
*Excellent. Hehe! This will be fun.*
CHAPTER 3
I commanded the mare to stop, turning my ear ahead of us without speaking.
Gavin spoke in a whisper. “You hear them?”
“Yes. They wake early.”
“With the forest changing, as I’d expect.”
I smelled the smoke of a campfire—something neither Gavin nor I had risked—and hoped we were far enough away that they had not heard the clop of hooves. I first donned the ruby pendant, leaving it out where it could be seen while the saphgar remained hidden. I also opened my pouch to release my guardians. They scrambled out and up to my nape, alert and ready. Gavin waited patiently while I double-checked the poison in which I dipped my bolt this time.
The one that killed Bictrius quickly, not the fever.
Satisfied, I inspected my hand crossbow for serious flaws, noted minor ones, and loaded it before hooking it to a loop on the saddle. I wouldn’t be gripping and aiming it in threat first thing, but Callitro’s ring would assure I could snatch it and hit what I aimed for.
Finally, controlling and slowing my breath, I urged the horse forward down the road.
Calm. Confident. Show no fear.
I wasn’t alone. I had two strange and magically powerful allies plus a nonreactive horse, but I was leading this. It was my idea.
I wish Jaunda were here.
The mare’s walk was steady, and there was no way to be quiet. We merely waited to see how long it would take them to notice and who would sound the alarm first. I pursed my mouth when I recognized Mathias was that one. He had been sitting on a log farther from the Ma’ab, unbound and close enough to be considered on watch voluntarily. He stood up.
“Oi!” he shouted, lifting his arm high, his hand empty. “Who goes there?”
He couldn’t see details, and neither could the other three as they scrambled to their feet to make ready. At this distance, I recognized Kurn, Castis, and Amelda easily by their shape, size, and color, though their pale faces blurred some against clear expression.
I also saw someone else move. Short, stocky, wrists bound in front.
Red beard.
“Rithal, captive,” I whispered. “Mathias, free.”
“Hm,” Gavin acknowledged.
I sought another, Osgrid, but did not see her or any Humans from Troshin Bend. Just our old traveling companions.
“Mathias!” I called out.
He sounded baffled. “Sirana?”
“Forest trickery!” Castis barked, raising his hands, ready to cast. “Be wary!”
Indeed, I’d have thought the same thing in their place.
“We found the warp rot center,” I said plainly. “It’s too big for one mage. We come to—”
Kurn hauled his bulk onto his stallion with an aggressive yell which could have been enhanced by a sore netherhole.
“I have Soul Drinker!” I bellowed. “Charge us, and your fate shall be worse than death!”
“Tacuf, aljaheem!” Amelda cried angrily at Kurn.
“Stop, Hellhound,” Gavin translated near my left ear.
“Aful ma’aqit!”
“Do as I say.”
I offered no indication I’d heard him but his confirmation of Amelda strongarming the dog’s leash was useful. An order, not a bribe or beseechment. Nonetheless, the large man bristled at her as his black horse pranced in nervous confusion, and I believed he might kick the beast forward regardless. There was not a moon to see by nor the first grey of dawn.
“Dabh,” Castis agreed, lifting his right hand and summoning light to the end of a walking staff which looked borrowed. Glaring with nostrils curled, he added, “You saw the center?”
I squinted against the light as it revealed shades of green both sick and healthy. Mathias remained where he was for now, his back to the forest as he watched us on each side. Rithal’s focus was on anyone moving, though he sat like a rock. Now that Kurn could see and I couldn’t, he held back; his stallion continued to stamp.
“We saw it,” I answered, lifting my voice, speaking slow. “Gavin cannot purge the corruption. We need mages. Will you negotiate?”
Castis and Amelda glanced at each other then, curiously, at Kurn, who trotted his mount around in a circle, heavy blowing and burring raising tension in the
other three horses and Rithal’s pony. Gavin’s mare remained still as a tree.
“Negotiate with a thief and a coward?” snarled the Hellhound.
“And a clumsy rutter,” I said. “Distasteful, yes, but so I must.”
“Kadh’a!” he spat.
Gavin didn’t bother translating, and my smile was brief. “We must stop this spread, Ma’ab. That is the greater threat for which you followed us North.”
“Return the dagger,” Amelda spoke before Kurn could, stepping forward. “And the ruby you’ve stolen, and you shall have our aid.”
I chuckled. “I am not stupid. You must be motivated. Earn them back.”
“One item returned now,” she countered. “The ruby. The dagger when the forest is cleansed, and we part ways.”
Soul Drinker began to laugh maniacally.
~Shhh. Stop it.~
Alas, a giggle slipped from me as well. “Hm! Part ways? Were you not hungry to drag both of us to your Ascended?”
“You may go, Elf,” Amelda clarified. “The maknuut will be enough.”
Bodiless laughter drifted around me, through me, though I resisted making the same face both Kurn and Castis did. The female Noble made such great effort to avoid speaking to Gavin or acknowledging him unless it contained demands for others to act upon his fate. It was as if she thought he had no ears or will.
Although her revulsion went beyond Castis’s dismissive spitting while traveling, Gavin did not speak out either way, and I understood why. It was both a statement of intent and a useless challenge. I had no binding power with the Deathwalker or his mistress, and neither the Ma’ab nor I believed we would simply “part ways.”
I addressed Mathias instead. “And you? I thought you ran from the town’s mob. These Ma’ab were in no shape to stop you.”
The skin hunter offered a lax smile and a shrug. “Turns out I forgot something.”
I waited, expecting a mention of the Dwarf, but Mathias added nothing. Not good.
Tilting my chin up, I prompted, “And Rithal?”
As Mathias repeated his shrug, Castis stated, “The fool followed us. We caught him recently.”
So the skin hunter had left Troshin Bend with the Ma’ab. I sensed the hard fingers of the governor on this.
“You did not kill him,” I noted.
“We may correct this,” Kurn growled, turning his stallion’s haunches toward the Dwarf.
Rithal’s eyes grew so wide I could see it past Castis’s torch, and he rolled backwards off his perch in time to evade the horse’s powerful hind kick.
“Saeid yusbik!” Amelda barked. “Murkib!”
“Ascended hold you,” Gavin whispered. “Self-control.”
“They are very tense,” I replied.
“The warp rot will engage them first. Offer to trade me and one vial for Rithal, instead of either object.”
Trade one of Sarilis’s vials? I kept my face still. “If they injure you for spite?”
“What are you saying?” Castis called loudly, closing distance with Mathias, who took a few steps closer to the Ma’ab. “Do we negotiate or not?”
“We discuss,” I replied tartly, ignoring him and his bright light.
“There will be consequence,” Gavin murmured. “If I suffer, so shall they. I only ask you to use the moment well.”
I offered a slight nod before speaking out to the smaller female. “I shall not give you the ruby now, and Soul Drinker politely declines your company—”
*Hehehe!*
“—but let us trade like for like. The mak-noo-uht for the Dwarf—”
Amelda grimaced at my pronunciation then looked briefly concerned about my address of the relic. It was clear that Kurn, Mathias, and Rithal were confused while Castis had a dawning realization.
“—and the return of the old man’s vial as defense from warp rot,” I finished, drawing one out where they could see.
Both mages couldn’t hide their interest while Kurn’s brow lowered enough to obscure his eyes. A good sign.
“If you keep both ruby and relic,” the noblewoman countered, “we keep both the Dwarf and maknuut. Only then shall the vial be enough.”
“No,” I said. “Gavin is worth five Rithals.”
The Dwarf chuckled audibly, unoffended, as Gavin decisively dismounted, leaving his pack and belongings strapped to the mount. He drew off the spade in a long pull.
“Oh, no,” Castis protested, pointing. “You put that back!”
“Care to contest wills again?” Gavin asked, brandishing the digging tool in his grasp. “I was fully mortal before and quelled you.”
I saw a narrowing of the noble mage’s eyes and a glance at Kurn, who sneered and looked away from both. Mathias had decided to get out of the middle and moved to the far side of Amelda where he was on the fringe.
No withdrawing now. I dismounted as well, removing my crossbow from the saddle and attaching it to its holster. I beckoned with one hand. “Come, Rithal. You ride with me.”
The redbeard crouched behind a rock, wary of Kurn’s huffing stallion, as Gavin walked closer to Amelda and Kurn than he did Castis, forcing a divide visible to me. I moved forward, toward Castis but motioning past him.
“Come, Rithal!” I said loudly.
“I got a pony, Elf.”
Amelda sneered as she backed up from Gavin’s approach. “We keep your pony. This one will ride it with his legs dragging!”
Nuance broke down as we repositioned. Castis tried to keep an eye on me but Amelda and Kurn gave way for Gavin, who must be baiting the woman as he showed his back.
She raised her hands, unable to resist. “Kun mithl ajalid!”
“Uthkariss,” Gavin answered, swirling on her.
“Ah, shit!” Mathias cried between them.
Ice and black fire met in proximity, back-blowing on them and causing Kurn’s stallion to scream and rear up. Castis’s magical torch went out as he turned, and I lunged forward, seizing him in the sudden dark.
“Hrk—!”
I found the Ma’ab’s throat and dug in my fingers, my other hand seizing the pain point under his arm. His open mouth made no sound as I caught his eyes, dragged his will down where he stood. My intent was to penetrate, as Soul Drinker showed me, as both had tried against me.
As before, the ruby had the delicacy of a bull’s prick up the ass.
Castis went rigid, his eyes wide in shock. I could see him better than he could see me. I wasted no time as Soul Drinker squealed around me and my spiders guarded my body.
~Pass me every thunderstone you have,~ I ordered.
Fingers fumbled at a pouch on his belt. I released his throat and let him breathe, loosened the pouch by feel, without blinking.
~You cannot make more, Castis, even with components. You are incapable. You have forgotten how.~
He nodded.
~Given the opportunity to steal Kurn’s and Amelda’s thunderstones, you will do so without them seeing and pass them to me intact. If they try to use one, you will do everything in your power to stop them. You cannot speak of my demands. Understand?~
His eyes rolled up, snapped back, trying to focus. *Y-yes…*
I hid his pouch and stepped away from the mage to survey the scene. Any abruptly severed connection was disorienting, but I had no choice.
*You are fiiiine,* Soul Drinker cooed. *It was but an instant and your ssspiders did not leap.*
Yet what I feared most in that instant, when I’d looked into Castis’s eyes, was that Gavin had been decapitated by Kurn and set afire, as Amelda wanted.
No.
Gavin was upright, his head attached and robes unscorched, indeed, still walking in the dark. Amelda had clambered into the forest on the far side of the road. Kurn was trotting to and fro, indecisive on what to do, snarling and snapping in his tongue. Mathias was out of sight.
In silence, I called Gavin’s mare closer while glimpsing the redbeard finally c
oming toward me, dragging his pony by the bridle with neck outstretched. The sky had begun to lighten. Gasping, Castis blinked as I held up one of Sarilis’s vials.
“Here, as agreed,” I said. “Take this.”
He did, darting in Kurn’s direction but nearly ran into the tall Deathwalker.
“Gagk!” he cried, recoiling as Gavin turned his head to peer at him.
Castis swiftly joined Kurn and Amelda on the far end of the camp while Gavin stood between them and the rest of us. I sought signs of black blood or something else but only saw a broad, lanky, robed monk.
“I shall ride behind you, and Sirana in front,” Gavin said. “Though I’ll not be gagged or bound.”
“Then that is no trade!” Kurn barked, but Castis held up his vial.
“We have this,” he said, and Amelda held out her hand but Castis drew away. “If Sirana can lead us to the center, it is all we truly need, not the Dwarf.”
For now.
That practically hung in the air.
“Are we ready to leave?” someone said.
All looked over as Mathias emerged, leading his horse toward Rithal; the skin hunter drew a knife, offering to cut the rope from his wrists. The Dwarf accepted, clutching his reins but holding his arms forward.
“Why th’ fuck ye want tah go?” Rithal demanded as he was set free.
“Hey, I was in the shed, too, remember?” said the skin hunter loud enough for the three Ma’ab to hear. “I want to see what else this ‘apprentice’ has up his sleeve.”
In the shed. What happened in the shed with Jacob? It sounded like a deflection.
With no one making a move to try to bind Gavin, Kurn finally steered the stallion over to sweep Amelda up and onto his saddle, not dissimilar to what he’d done with me at the Ley Tower except she wasn’t fighting him.
“Get the horses and packs,” commanded the Hellhound without using Castis’s name. “Let the maknuut ride the extra mount while the black witch rides the rotting one.”
“W-was it bitten by anything when you saw the center?” Amelda asked.
“She was,” Gavin answered too honestly. “Sirana’s command of Soul Drinker, however, drew out the corruption before it could spread. She can do the same for any of you.”