She wasn’t expecting the strength from the buckler in the girl’s hand that caught her across the mouth. She rolled with it, letting the solid hit spin her around. She followed with a high reverse spin kick, but her opponent ducked. When Astrid dropped into a fighting crouch, she noticed that the small shield was the girl’s hand. The weapon seemed to be a prosthetic.
“You’re fast!” Astrid told her with a smile as she planted her feet and raised her fists. “Nice try. But don’t assume we’re enemies.”
“Then why do you have that thing with you!” the girl shouted with enough intensity to send a wave through the single, tight braid that fell over her shoulder.
Boone hung his head, and his shoulders drooped.
“He’s not a thing!” Gormer shouted, standing beside Boone. “He’s my friend, and he’s a damn fine person. You have no fucking idea who he is or what he’s been through.”
“You’re Astrid?” the girl asked, ignoring Gormer.
“That’s right.”
The girl trembled with rage. “I was sent here to find you, and now I find out you’re with the enemy!”
“Just calm down,” Astrid suggested. Her split lip crackled with magical energy as The Well healed it. “If we were your enemies, you’d be dead already.”
The girl showed surprise when she noticed Astrid’s rapid healing, and she backed up a few paces. Vinnie joined Astrid.
The big man launched into a full-charm offensive. “Young lady,” he began with a deep bow, “I must beg you to forgive our strange appearance. We—”
“Shut the fuck up,” the girl growled. “Give up the monster, and I’ll be on my way. Otherwise, you’ll have the Bitch and Bastard Brigade to deal with.”
Vinnie weathered the abuse with his customary patience. “Now, that’s no way to talk to your elders,” he told her with an amused grin. “Why don’t you sit with us? We were just about to make camp. You can tell us how you came to have that remarkable magitech device you’re wearing.”
When the girl made an “up your ass gesture,” Astrid finally got a good look at the shield that had rung her bell. It appeared that the girl’s left arm was missing below the elbow, and the shield device replaced it.
“Okay,” Gormer laughed, “that’s a point in your favor, but still…”
“Fuck off,” she shouted over her shoulder as she wove a serpentine path through the woods.
Astrid sighed and shook her head. “Should we go after her and make her understand?”
Boone answered the question. “Wait!” he shouted. He caught up with her in an instant. She whipped out a dagger and slashed at him. Boone dodged the strike, but just barely.
Vinnie surged forward, but Astrid held out her hand. “Let him,” she urged, although she was unable to hide her anxiety. “It’s his risk to take.”
“Listen to me, please,” Boone begged.
The girl was having none of it. She lashed out with her dagger, and Boone danced in a circle. She was getting closer with each attack.
“We share the same fight.”
“Skrima are evil!” the girl shouted, and slashed again.
The blade glanced off one of his arms, splitting the shell, and Astrid gasped. The girl attacked again, but this time, Boone reached out with two of his arms and caught her magitech weapon, and used another to grab her dagger arm. With his free hand, he extended his pincer-fingers and held them near her face. His overwhelming strength made the girl struggle harder.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he pleaded. The girl showed no fear, and her face flushed as she struggled. “Just let me talk to you, please. Stop fighting. If you still want to kill me after you hear what I have to say, you can.”
He let her go, jumped back ten feet, and dropped to his knees with all his arms spread out. The girl stopped in obvious surprise at Boone’s gesture.
“I know your anger and your hatred. Monsters do come from my world, but I am not one of them. I was what your people call a ‘slave.’ We don’t have a word for slave on my world because everyone is a slave.
“We work without question, or we die. Thousands of us—hundreds of thousands. Two choices: obey the Lords or die. I didn’t know there was anything else until my friends freed me. My friends gave me a choice. Human friends. They gave me freedom, so I chose to fight for your world. If I have to die to prove to you that I am not your enemy, then I beg you to kill me right now.”
The girl stood statue-still, although her shoulders were still tense, and she still maintained a fighting crouch. Suddenly, she released her tension and stepped forward. Astrid held her breath. The girl sheathed her dagger and held out her natural hand.
“I was also a slave,” she said. “My name is Aysa. I’ve been tracking you for days. Your people sent me in this direction.” She nodded at the Badger. “Not hard to follow that son of a bitch.”
Boone folded up his pincer-fingers and took her hand. She helped him stand.
Chapter Four
Julianne rubbed her head. Hadley hadn’t stopped sending her mental messages since Bastian had let him try the amphorald bracelet.
He had grown up with Julianne and studied by her side under the former Master Mystic. Years ago, Hadley left Julianne back in Arcadia to go on a quest to save Irth with Hannah and Ezekiel. But three days ago, he met up with part of her team carrying an urgent message he insisted on giving to her face to face.
And he hadn’t stopped yapping since.
...that’s when I cast an image of a donkey right there in front of the bastard and—
Hadley? Julianne interrupted.
Yeah, Jules?
I’m excited to hear all about your adventures with Hannah, but I do need at least a little peace and quiet so I can eat my breakfast.
Oh. Right. Hadley slipped out of Julianne’s head, and she savored the moment of silence.
Quickly stuffing the last bit of bread in her mouth, Julianne stood and kicked dirt over the tiny fire. “I’ll be glad to sleep in a real bed tonight,” she said once she’d swallowed her mouthful.
“You think we can spare a night in Sweetwater?” Marcus asked. “You did say we’re in a hurry—if we ride straight through, we’ll save half a day.”
Julianne considered it. “The horses need rest, but I suppose we could try to trade them for fresh mounts.” A sigh escaped, and she gave Marcus a rueful grin. “I can’t say I’m not just a little disappointed, though.”
“I don’t care if ya sleep, but if ya even try and drag me ass through that wonderful wee town without a few stops, ya’ll have a fight on yer hands.” Garrett slung his axe onto his horse, then glared up at the saddle. He reeled back a few steps, then leapt, grabbing the pommel and trying to heave himself up, legs kicking wildly.
Thankfully, the horse he’d been given back at Anrock was a sedate old mare, and weathered his failed attempt at mounting her with staid patience.
“Garrett, do you—“ Marcus began.
“Fuck off, ya bloody prick,” Garrett growled.
“It’d be easier if—“
“I said, fuck off!” Garrett hurled himself at his horse again, but this time, she neatly sidestepped so that he landed in the dirt.
Marcus pressed his lips together, folded his hands behind his back, and looked at the trees. He pursed his lips as if to whistle a tune.
“Marcus!” Julianne’s flat warning caught him just as he’d begun to exhale. He coughed instead, then quickly walked away to fiddle with his own horse’s tack to escape her glowing eyes.
Garrett stomped over, snarling. “Mind yer own bloody business, mystic.”
“Sure,” Julianne said. “I’ll help.” Her eyes faded back to normal.
Garrett grunted, then dropped his head. “Thanks.”
He accepted her boost and awkwardly mounted the giant nag with Julianne’s assistance, staring at Marcus the whole time. Marcus, however, was fixated with the strap of his saddlebag and didn’t turn around until Garrett was settled in the saddle.
“How far to Sweetwater?” Julianne asked, easily pulling herself onto her own horse.
“If we push it, we could reach the town by midday,” Marcus said.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Julianne asked.
She took off in a cloud of dust, leaving the two men to chase after her.
They reached the town just as the sun hit its peak.
"I know I said we shouldn’t stay, but lunch might not be a bad idea,” Marcus said. As if in agreement, his stomach growled loudly.
"That may not be a bad idea," Julianne replied. "But let’s find horses first."
"I'll be happy to swap this obstinate giant for a kind wee pony, but why can’t we stop a night and rest?" Garrett nudged his horse, trying to get her to speed up a bit. She didn't, and he sat back with a frustrated scowl. "With all the shoppin’ I have ta do there it might be night before I’m ready ta go."
Julianne rolled her eyes. "I don't care how much liquor you buy, but you'll have to bring it on the road with you. We’re so close to home. If we can ride through the night, we will."
Garrett grumbled but didn't argue. He maintained his surly silence until they neared the tiny town, renowned for its fine whiskey and gin. Julianne was acutely aware of his shift in mood, because his grumbling curses turned into cheery platitudes as they rode.
"Ya'll see, ya old bitch of a horse," Garrett crooned. "We'll get ta this sweet little town, and ya can rest yer wee legs and have a bite ta eat. I'm sure they've got some lovely food there; probably hearty stews that’ll stick to yer ribs, and big fat potatoes, loaded with cheese and cream. Maybe a little pig’s belly on the side. That's the kinda food ya eat wi’ a good drink in yer hand."
Garrett had been pining for a visit to Sweetwater since he'd heard about their famous brews. However, the nature of their mission and the widespread knowledge that Sweetwater could take care of itself—a town like that had to, if they didn't want to be raided and pillaged—meant the group had bypassed it on their way out to scour the countryside, looking for small villages and holdings under siege from the remnant.
The low stone wall that surrounded Sweetwater was heavily manned. Marcus spotted at least twenty archers peeking through narrow slits, their arrows nocked. He approached carefully, his hands out to either side to show that he was unarmed.
"Hail, Sweetwater!"
A grate slid open, and a pair of eyes peered out. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"We're travelers," Julianne explained. "We've come from the north but need to return to Tahn. We hoped you had fresh horses you could trade, or if not, then a place to rest for the night."
"And you've got none of those red-eyed devil-beasts with you?" the voice queried.
"Nah. We kilt a few o’ them bastards on the way, but we dinna bring any back wi’ us." Garrett shrugged. “I mean, if ya want some, I could go back and find a few corpses. If that's what ya use fer trade around here, I'll do it gladly. Fer a few bottles at least."
"Fine, fine, in you come. If you steal anything, you'll lose a hand. If you steal twice, you'll lose your life."
The three travelers quickly agreed and dismounted to lead the horses through the gates as they creaked open. Once inside, the heavy iron doors swung shut, and the bar that was thrown across them to secure it dropped with a heavy thud.
"Where can we find horses?" Julianne asked, just as Garrett spoke up.
"Where can I find me some whiskey?"
The guard eyed them both and sighed. "You’re best to see young Jeffrey for the horses. He's not too far from the gates on the other side of town. Head down that road and keep going till you can't go any farther. The guards down there can show you where he lives." The man turned to Garrett. "As for the booze? Any house you see with a sign hanging out front likely sells that. Well, except the sign that has a woman lifting her skirts. They sell something else."
"No time fer that," Garrett said with a sad sigh. "We're in a hurry, an’ I need ta fill me bags wi’ as much Sweetwater liquor as I can buy."
Julianne heaved a sigh of her own. "Give me your horse. Marcus and I will take care of the trade while you take care of your business.”
Garrett hesitated. “I’d rather trade me own, if ya don’t mind. I’ve a particular sort of beastie in mind, if ya know what I mean.”
Julianne bit her lip but could see from the set of his face that he wouldn’t be swayed. “Fine,” she relented. “Don't take too long, though—and don’t buy any more than you can carry, or I’ll make you leave it in the gutter when we go."
Garrett straightened, clicked his heels together, and saluted. Then, with a cheerful cackle, he ran down one of the nearby streets in search of the famed Sweetwater whiskey, horse patiently jogging along behind him.
“You know he’ll get a short shaft, don’t you?” Marcus asked.
Julianne nodded. “It’s faster than arguing. It’s not that far to Tahn, so as long as he doesn’t get an absolute beast or something that’s completely lame, it will do.”
Marcus and Julianne quickly found their way to the young horse trader, bypassing the second guard for directions in favor of a few discreet mind-reads. Jeffrey met them out the front of the stables, alerted by a sudden, overwhelming need to be standing in the exact spot Julianne was headed for.
“You’re looking for horses?” Jeffrey asked. A look of surprise passed over his face after he spoke, and he laughed nervously. “Uh, sorry. I don’t know why—“
“We are,” Julianne replied quickly. “Two healthy beasts with reasonable speed. Nothing skittish, please.”
Jeffrey tipped his hat and scurried inside, wonder shining in his eyes.
Julianne winced. “Oops.”
“What?” Marcus asked, watching the exchange with amusement.
“I accidentally gave him the idea that he has premonition. I must fix that before we leave.”
“Fix it?” Marcus laughed. “Don’t. It won’t do any harm, and it’ll give him something to laugh about in a few months.”
Julianne grimaced but her eyes didn’t change colour. “You’re incorrigible, Marcus.”
“I know.” He grinned, then darted forward to inspect the two horses Jeffrey led out of the stable.
“They’re both good horses. How much?” Julianne asked.
Despite her words, Marcus examined hooves, mouths and eyes. The horses weathered the poking and prodding without flinching. “They are good,” Marcus said. “Healthy and young, but not immature.”
“You’re trading those two in?” Jeffrey asked.
Julianne nodded, then half-heartedly haggled with the boy before exchanging a small handful of coins and handing over the reins to the exhausted horses they had ridden from Anrock.
“He has a horse that will be suitable for Garrett,” Julianne commented as they strolled away. “If he’s still standing after his little shopping expedition.”
“I can smell food,” Marcus said with a start. “And it smells amazing!”
He followed his nose and Julianne followed him, not bothering to use her magic to find the source of the aroma—it was obvious enough.
The small tavern was packed to the gills, but Julianne managed to jostle her way past to the bar. By the time she’d purchased two hot rolls dripping with meat and gravy, she’d had enough of the pushing and shoving.
Move, she sent, eyes flashing briefly. The crowd parted, men and women shifting to create a path to the door.
Marcus stood at the other end, silhouette framed by the sunlight behind him. “That was impressive,” he said, though his eyes were already on the steaming meal in Julianne’s hand.
“I know,” she replied.
Julianne took a large bite of the burger, savoring the flavor after three days of dried meat and stale bread.
The sound of glass bottles clinking together made her turn. Garrett jogged up the road, his saddlebags slung over his shoulders and seemingly stuffed to the brim with Sweetwater whiskey.
Instead of the tall Anrock hor
se he’d arrived with, he led a short, fat pony.
"Ah, ya found some food?" Garrett asked. "Yep, I figured ya did. That’s why I only bought enough to feed me own face three streets back.”
He leaned forwards, sniffing at Julianne’s food. “Though I wouldn’t say no to one of those if ya happened to have paid for an extra one?”
Julianne shook her head apologetically. “Sorry, Garrett. The tavern is just there, though, if you want one?”
Garrett eyed the press of bodies. He shook his head. “Ya did say we’re in a rush.”
Marcus snorted. “Not like you to hurry on behalf of anyone else. Why so quick? And where did you find that horse? It doesn’t look like anything Jeffrey would sell.”
Garrett grinned. “I found me a wee bargain. Handed over me horse and got a much better one in return, along with enough coin to fill me bags wi’ booze. Once I was down, I guessed I'd better get me arse back before that one turns me into a frog. Or makes me think I'm one, anyway." He eyed Julianne warily, as if wondering if she’d do it just for fun.
"Your instincts were good," Julianne assured him, then shoved the last of her food into her mouth. “Pity you got taken for a ride. Do you know why the pony’s name is Bab?”
Garrett shook his head slowly, suddenly wary. “The man what sold her to me said she’s a real gem.”
“Bad. Assed. Bitch. Bab.” Julianne didn’t bother stifling a laugh. “Garrett, that pony is going to give you hell all the way back to Tahn.”
Garrett drew himself up haughtily. “And how do ya know that, lass?”
“Because there are six—no, seven—people watching you, wondering what kind of sucker would buy a ride from Old Barnabas.”
Garrett deflated. “Ah, bite me arse. It’s done, and done is done. Faster we get home the sooner I can get me ass off this or any other four-legged turd.”
Julianne chuckled as she swung into her freshly saddled horse. “Well, then. Let’s go.”
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