Windswept

by Derek Alan Siddoway

  They saw no sign of other people for almost a week after leaving the Mother of Cities, which Eva was grateful for. Upon reaching the northern fringe of the Endless, they turned eastward. Chel guessed they were less than two week’s travel from the Juarag-Vo’s territory, although they’d seen no sign of human life since leaving the Mother of Cities.

  “My people move much,” Chel explained. “We have no lands to claim and must move whenever another tribe comes into hunting grounds.”

  “Why don’t you fight for your land?” Sigrid asked. Eva could tell the thought of backing down without a fight bewildered her.

  “The Juarag tribes are much larger than us and even the smallest have many war cats,” Chel said. “We do what we must to protect our people, even if it means running.”

  Instead of throwing back a snide remark, as she would have done before their capture in the Mother of Cities, Sigrid merely nodded. Despite their trials and losses, Eva sensed a camaraderie growing between them all and the Juarag-Vo girl, a bond forged from their trials and triumphs.

  One morning, Sigrid spotted a sliver of smoke. For a moment Eva thought it might be the Juarag-Vo but her hopes were quickly dashed when she looked at Chel and the girl shook her head.

  “Not close enough yet. And that is no Juarag fire.”

  Drawing closer, the trail of smoke led them to a ring of a dozen small wagons with little cabins built upon them. Eva feared they’d come across another group of steppe nomads, but soon spotted groups of children running throughout the camp. If nothing else, they didn’t appear to be a war band.

  “Do you know these people?” Eva asked Chel.

  “I know their kind,” Chel said. “Wanderers and traders. They are friendly enough… if you have something to give in return.”

  “What’s the plan?” Sigrid shouted across to them. By now, they’d been spotted by the people below, who were calling out warnings and gathering their children.

  After their experience in the Mother of Cities, Eva felt loathe to trust another group of strangers, but days of nothing but meat and scant rations won out against her paranoia. She passed the word to Sigrid and they landed the gryphons beyond bowshot of the camp. While Eva, Ivan, and Chel approached the camp, Sigrid remained with Sven and Fury, ready to come to their aid at a moment’s notice.

  Several men and women rode out to meet them, armed but weapons sheathed. They didn’t look overly friendly but seemed more curious than hostile.

  Eva held up her hands when they drew closer, showing they meant no harm. A woman with thick dark brown hair pulled back in a scarf studied them with hard eyes then barked out a command. Eva’s hopes fell — she had no idea what the language was. But when she looked at Ivan he was smiling.

  The Scrawl replied back at the same fast clip and the woman smiled in turn, then grasped his arm in greeting. They passed a few more sentences back and forth before Ivan turned to Eva and Chel.

  “This is Belka,” he said, gesturing to the women. “I asked if we could trade with her people and perhaps share a meal by their fire. They are fleeing westward, away from the Smelterborn.”

  “That’s great,” Eva said, “but we don’t have anything to trade.”

  “I told her we could provide fresh game if they’d be willing to cook it for us and share whatever they have,” he said. “They haven’t been able to hunt — the animals are fleeing east too.”

  “Should we trust them?” Eva asked both Ivan and Chel.

  “Our interactions with their kind in the past have been peaceful,” Chel said.

  Ivan nodded and his stomach rumbled, giving away his feelings on the matter.

  “Sounds good,” Eva said. “Let’s see if we can rustle up some dinner then.”

  Sitting around a fire, full, warm and content, Eva smiled as the band started to pluck at their strange stringed instruments and rattle small tambourines. Although their clothing was plain and drab, they had small bronze bells attached to their carts and the tack of their horses and ponies. As a result, a soft jingling permeated the camp even when the other music faded away.

  They remained on the edge of camp, partly because Belka wasn’t comfortable with the gryphons and partly because Eva wanted to be able to make a quick getaway on the off chance something went wrong. Even now, she was careful not to let down her guard too much and kept her weapons within reach.

  “For generations, we have made a life for ourselves wandering the east, scavenging what we could find from the ruins to trade,” Ivan translated as Belka spoke. “Not so long ago, the sight of a golem was rare. But every year, more and more appeared. There came a time when the ruins of the ancients were no longer safe to the east, so we went north. Now, we must go west, or be killed.”

  The night grew late, but instead of retiring to their bedrolls, the traders built the fires higher and played even wilder tunes. Eva found herself laughing and tapping along to the music, and realized she was more relaxed and happy than she'd been throughout their time as pampered guests in the Mother of Cities. Although the scavenger’s camp didn’t come close to matching the grandeur of the temple, there was something to be said about the honest enjoyment of hard-working folk such as these that made Eva feel more at home than she had since leaving on the journey.

  At last, the music subsided and the fire burned low. After one last story and song, a haunting melody that drew images of strange nights in far-off country beneath forgotten ruins, they retired.

  In the morning, Belka found them at dawn, offering two sacks full of wild fruits, berries, and vegetables. Eva tried to refuse them, but the woman shook her head and insisted.

  “She says to take them, for they have been hungry for meat and she knows we have grown tired of it,” Ivan said. Eva saw it was pointless to argue and relented, although they left the rest of the gryphon kill for the traders.

  As they prepared for flight, the camp gathered around, staring wide-eyed as the gryphons stretched their wings and showed off in front of the admiring crowd. Eva thanked Belka one last time but the woman started speaking again.

  “She says we are welcome to travel with them,” Ivan said. “And admits our gryphons and weapons would be welcome company — she knows about the Juarag and the horse people and is not looking forward to the journey.”

  A desire to aid the kindly wanderers tugged at Eva but she knew she couldn’t abandon their journey eastward, no matter what might lie ahead. A thought struck her and she unpinned the brooch on her cloak that had miraculously survived the journey so far. It was fashioned as a pair of wings, a mark of her station as Windsworn she’d earned upon completing her training. The only possessions Eva prized more were her mother’s Wonder and the sword Soot had crafted for her on her first birthday at the Gyr.

  Eva curled her fingers around the pin, recalling the blood, pain, and heartache gone into winning it as well as the pride she’d felt when Andor placed it on her. Pushing her feelings away, she held it out to Belka. “Ivan, tell her to journey toward Rhylance and show the first riders she comes across my brooch. Tell them Eva, the niece of the king, has granted her safe passage.”

  As Ivan repeated the words, Sigrid looked at Eva, eyes wide. “Since when did you start making royal mandates?”

  Eva shrugged. “Can’t get me in any more trouble than I’m already in, can it?”

  When Ivan finished, Belka clutched the winged pin to her chest and bowed her head in thanks. With that, Eva and the rest raised their hands and the gryphons took off at a short run before taking off into the sky. Her heart went out for the roving band and she wished they could have done more to see them to safety.

  “They remind me much of my own people,” Chel said sometime later as they flew southeast, back into the tip of the Endless Plains.

  Eva could sense the longing in her voice and realized how much she must miss her tribe.

  “How far away do you think we are?” Eva asked.

  Eva felt Chel tense behind her and it took a long moment for the girl to r
eply. “I…I’m not sure,” she said in a reluctant voice like she didn’t want to be held accountable for whatever answer she gave. “The Juarag-Vo wander much but we are probably only a few days or so from where I left them. I did not come this far north, so it is hard to say.”

  For the first time, Eva realized that their task might be harder than simply flying to a spot and finding her father. Looking down at the vast expanse of grassland, the similarity of searching for a needle in a haystack rose to mind.

  “How long do you think it will take to find them?” she asked Chel, hoping for some kind of reassurance.

  Chel neither moved nor spoke for a long moment. “I do not know.”

  They came into the thick of the Endless Plains: rolling hills of blond grass that reached the chests of the gryphons at its thinnest and beyond their eagle-like heads at the tallest points where it hadn’t been grazed. Small brown clumps nosed through the grass below as they flew — herds of deer, elk, buffalo, and shaggy rhinos. The latter, Chel said, they should avoid at all costs.

  But while they saw numerous signs of life, death held sway the farther east the went. From the air, they spotted animals slaughtered and left to rot in the early winter sun. Swarms of flies as thick as clouds buzzed around the carcasses, fighting for their last few meals before the cold killed them off. In addition to the flies, packs of scavengers: vultures, wolves, coyotes and short-nosed plains bears congregated on the kills, gorging themselves.

  When Eva asked what killed the herd animals, Chel answered in a single word: Smelterborn.

  Yet they still found no sign of the Juarag-Vo, no sign of the Smelterborn, and most importantly, no sign of Eva’s father. With each passing day, Eva and Sigrid grew more restless and frustrated, constantly asking Chel where her tribe was.

  “I do not know!” Chel hissed one night, throwing her hands in the air. “I have been gone over three seasons now! I am doing all I can to find them.”

  “Maybe this was all a wild goose chase after all,” Sigrid muttered, sliding a hand over one of her knife hilts. “Some trick to lead us all the way out there.”

  Eva couldn’t bring herself to defend Chel. Ivan, however, was quick to jump in. “Chel saved our lives, remember? We’ve all seen how big the plains are — I’m sure she wants to find her people even more than we do.”

  “Well that’s just great,” Sigrid said kicking the dirt. “Let’s just wander around the Endless until we starve or freeze to death.”

  Eva looked between the two girls, torn by her own feelings. “Let’s just get some rest,” she said, hoping some rest would dissolve the tension. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  But morning dawned and yielded no inspiration from anyone. Even Fury and Sven snapped and hissed at one another, tired from long days of flight in the bitter weather. After a frustrating discussion that dissolved in further bickering, they agreed, at last, to push a bit farther to the east.

  Chel didn’t think it likely the Juarag-Vo would have traveled in that direction. She told them the Smelterborn had been known to capture slaves on occasion, although she had no idea where they went or what they were used for. As she spoke, Eva knew Chel hoped against all odds that her people hadn’t met a similar fate.

  Around midday, they caught their first break — a pillar of smoke rising far off on the horizon. Without a word, Sigrid and Eva urged their gryphons into a faster flight. Chel remained silent, but Eva knew what she was thinking. The smoke didn’t bode well — no human would make a blaze that size in the dry grasses of the Endless.

  The cold air whipped past them, biting through their clothes and bringing stinging tears down Eva’s cheeks but she didn’t slow down. An hour later, Chel let out a cry when the source of the smoke came into view.

  It was the remains of a village. The smoke rose from the remains of poles of skin tents broken and smoldering. A dozen bodies and a random assortment of belongings were scattered throughout the camp. Eva winced at the sight of the victims — mostly old and young — hacked apart with no regard. Although a handful of vultures seemed to be the only things left alive, Eva still touched down a short distance from the ruined camp.

  “Chel, wait!”

  The Juarag-Vo girl leaped from Fury’s back before he’d even reached the ground and didn’t so much as pause at Eva’s shout. Eva cursed and raced after Chel while Fury rose back in the sky like he’d been trained to do to watch for anyone approaching.

  When she reached the first body, the wrinkled corpse of an old man, Chel let out a terrible sound somewhere between a moan and a scream and sank down beside it, pounding the ground with both fists. Eva drew her sword and, fighting back the urge to spew her meager breakfast, stepped into the midst of the massacre and chased away the carrion birds. On the edge of the camp, a lone coyote snarled at her before turning tail and racing away. Footsteps signaled Ivan and Sigrid’s approach.

  “Son of the storm,” Sigrid said in a low voice, surveying the death and destruction.

  Chel let up another wail and Ivan went to comfort her. “Let’s…look for anyone alive,” Eva said to Sigrid. She knew their search would be in vain before the words ever came out.

  Breathing through her mouth, Eva stepped around dead Juarag-Vo and pieces of dead Juarag-Vo, searching for any sign of life. There was none.

  Peeking inside a half-fallen skin tent, Eva jerked backward at the awful sight within and, unable to hold it in any longer, bent over and lost the contents of her stomach on the scorched ground. Shaking, she wiped a clammy hand across her mouth and decided she’d seen enough. She started walking back to Chel when Sigrid gave a shout.

  “Over here, quick!”

  Eva raced toward Sigrid’s voice, but Chel was even faster, hurtling like a deer through the smoking ruin. Ivan and Eva arrived at the same time and found Sigrid bent over a boy, only a few years younger than Ivan. Sigrid held his head but the boy stared past her toward the sky with unfocused eyes.

  “Tetsa,” Chel whimpered, kneeling down and running a hand over his right arm — the left ended at the elbow, although Eva couldn’t guess if he’d been born that way or lost it some time ago.

  The boy coughed and Sigrid adjusted his head so he could see Chel. His eyes grew widened and he sucked in a sharp breath then began to cough. Ivan knelt down and muttered a kenning. Water rose out of the ground into the Scrawl’s palms and he did his best to trickle some into the boy’s mouth.

  The boy swallowed then took another ragged breath and shuddered. For a moment, Eva thought he was dead, but his eyes opened again.

  “Smelterborn…” he said in a faint voice. Eva was surprised to hear him speak Westernese. “Came two days ago at dawn. Killed…no slaves. No warning.”

  “Where is my father?” Eva asked, unable to contain her worry any longer. She’d seen no sign of a Rhylance man or a gryphon among the dead. “Where is Aleron?”

  The boy looked at Chel. “Chel-sister, did you…find him? …you were going to…you said…”

  Eva felt her blood run cold as the skinny boy gave a final shuddering cough and went still. As Sigrid lowered the boys’ head back to the ground, all three of them looked at Chel, who had tears pouring down her face.

  “What does he mean, you were going to find him?” Eva asked, chest tight, almost unable to breathe or speak.

  “I…” Chel trailed off and stared at the ground.

  “You what?” Sigrid asked through clenched teeth.

  Chel rose on shaky legs and took two faltering steps back. Sigrid leaped to her feet but Eva managed to get herself between them. “Sigrid, stop!” she shouted before turning to Chel. “What did he mean you were going to find him?”

  Tears ran down Chel’s face and her chest heaved. She gasped for air and coughed in the thick smoke.

  “I…we were all alone,” she managed at last. Her words spilled out fast and almost indecipherable. “He told me, if he didn’t come back, to go get help — I swear it! I knew it was the only way any of the sky people would co
me. I never meant to —”

  “Who told you?” Eva said. Her stomach twisted again, but not from the gruesome slaughter around her.

  “Aleron,” Chel said. “He told me before he left if he didn’t come back that I had to get word to your people.”

  Eva squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment. Her heart hammered against her chest. The world started spinning and her mouth went dry. She didn’t want to ask but knew she had to.

  “Chel, how long ago did he leave?”

  The Juarag-Vo girl looked at her and Eva saw no malice or guile, just endless heartbreak, and pain.

  “Aleron disappeared over a year before I left to find you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eva stared. She looked right through Chel, empty. Not knowing what to say, what to think, what to do. She felt like an empty pot, drained of everything but cold dregs. Behind her, Ivan muttered something and Sigrid seethed.

  “You tricked us, you lying bitch!”

  Sigrid strode past Eva and brandished a knife at Chel. Eva did nothing. Chel stumbled backward and fell on the ground then scuttled away from Sigrid on her hands and feet.

  “I told you as much of the truth as I could!” she said. “Aleron told me to find the sky people if he didn't come back, I couldn’t wait any longer. I knew if I told you we hadn’t seen him in a year you wouldn’t listen!”

  “You’re damn right!” Sigrid yelled. “You led us halfway across Altaris, nearly got us all killed and for what? Nothing!”

  Screaming, Sigrid hurled her knife and it sank into the blackened dirt between Chel’s feet. Eva didn’t know if Sigrid has missed on purpose or if her anger had affected the throw.

  “What else is there?” Ivan asked. Even he didn’t sound like he had any sympathy for Chel. “Tell us.”

  “I have told you everything!” Chel shouted back, her voice recovering some of its old steel. “Aleron left us, almost a year and a half ago. He said he knew what was causing the Smelterborn to attack, where they were coming from and a way to stop them. Something from his time exploring the east. He said he had to be sure before he tried returning to the Windsworn, but he had to be sure first. He told me if he didn’t come back that things were worse than he had guessed and I would have to find you.”