Should we do something? I wanted to ask my father.
He silenced me with a look.
I never saw Sperrin approach; suddenly he squatted there beside me under the rock, his breath steaming slightly in the evening coolness.
One look at his face and I knew we would be spending the night outdoors.
“I checked three different households,” he said quietly. “The first must have been taken by surprise. The others had some warning, I think. They were empty; probably they’d made it through the first night and then fled for safety to the nearest of the mountain forts. Perhaps someone from the first house got a warning out. Not everyone who lived there was...inside.”
“Can we stay here?” I whispered.
“We can stay the night here. I wasn’t followed, and I don’t think anyone is looking for us. No fires, no voices over a whisper. But this rock is a good shelter. It will be a cold camp, but we’ll make it to morning, I think.”
Sperrin handed me a satchel. “There are travel clothes in here that may fit you better than what you’re wearing. In any event, they’re made for the mountains, and not the palace.” He saw my look. “They belonged to a girl in one of the households that fled, not...the other one.”
Right. Because that makes it better.
But a part of me knew he was right. The clothes did fit better—and more important, they protected my arms and legs better. The walk from the Mountain Road to the hunting trail had left me scratched up from brambles. I hadn’t realized Sperrin had noticed.
By then, night had replaced dusk. Sperrin portioned out food by feel, and we ate in near total darkness. Except for glimpses of starlight, nothing illuminated our sheltered hollow.
“So where do we go?” I asked, as quietly as I could manage. “I know we’re going to Whitmount, but are there other stops along the way? Or will we be camping out every night?”
“You’ll get used to the camping,” said Sperrin. “There’s a fort a day’s walk from here, though. Bigger than Longhold Hill. If they had any warning, I think they will have held.”
I nodded silently in the darkness. That seemed like a lot of ifs. Sperrin seemed to take my silence for approval, however, and turned away to make sure our hidden camp was secure.
That night I heard wolves again, closer than the last time.
Sperrin
The Mountain Road: Nine days after the Loss
Lorinhold had been designed as the first of a string of modern forts to defend the Mountain Road against a potential Central Alliance attack at the spine of the Ananyan Empire. Built low in the notch between two mountains, it incorporated the latest in anti-magical defenses. Lorinhold and other forts like it had been conceived to replace the older forts built when the Mountain Road was first cut, in the wake of the Holy War. Unlike the earlier forts built with the long war against gods and fey a recent memory, Lorinhold was geared to what had been seen, until a few days ago, as more contemporary threats. As long as at least one of the four channelers assigned to the fort remained in place, Lorinhold’s passive magical defenses made it nearly impregnable. The fort, and the small village scattered around it, had been built for defense—an army trying to command this stretch of road would break upon it. With channelers in the fort, Lorinhold owned the mountains that surrounded it.
With its channelers dead, the mountains had reverted to their previous owners.
The roof of the fort had been torn off and scattered across the grass nearby, exposing the stone floors of the fort’s upper story. Most of the village buildings had been pried open like oysters, their stone shells shattered and the contents pulled out.
From our hidden overlook point, I couldn’t tell if anyone in the fort had survived. Most of the structure remained intact, including the lower two stories and the main door. Whether that meant the attackers had been defeated, had given up trying, or had found other ways into Lorinhold I couldn’t tell without getting a lot closer.
“I’m going to need to go down there to see if there are any survivors. You two will be safe enough if you stay here.”
I unbuckled my sword and put it on top of my pack. “What are you doing?” asked Ketya.
“A blade won’t help against stone giants, and I don’t know of anything else in these mountains that could take off that roof. I’ll need to move quietly, in places giants can’t fit. The sword will just slow me down, and tempt me into something foolish if there are still giants nearby. It looks like they’re gone, though.”
“Let me come,” said Ketya. “I want to help. If we’re avoiding a fight, an extra set of eyes will help. And I’ve gotten a lot quieter.”
I nodded. I had to admit that she had. Her knifework had continued to improve as well; I worked with her when we took breaks on the trail, with her father watching skeptically but saying nothing. “All right.” I looked at the chancellor. “What about you?”
“Not me. I stay here. I’ll have dinner waiting for you when you get back.”
The chancellor didn’t sound sarcastic; I wondered if I was missing some hidden irony, but Ketya didn’t seem to react to the words either.
* * * *
We avoided the main trail down to the fort. A hidden side trail soon led us deep into tall rocks. We saw sky above and a few overhanging scrub trees, but nothing else except tall rock walls. The fortress below and the overlook above remained equally invisible. I guided us downward mostly by instinct.
“This trail dates back to the old fort,” I told her. “There are plenty of places on it where giants can’t get you. If you see a giant, find someplace narrow and deep. They can reach a long way and they’re fast. Don’t wait for me if you see one, just run for cover.” I sensed doubt in her expression. “Whatever you do, don’t try to fight one. If you get close enough to use a weapon on a giant, it will find a way to kill you.”
By the time the slope began to flatten, we had to walk sideways through the narrow rock corridor. Then the stones opened a little ways and we found ourselves looking down a shallow grassy slope, with the scarred wall of the fort directly ahead. Shingles covered the grass like patchwork, with an overlay of heavy, shattered timbers from the roof. Not just torn off, but torn and thrown. A few days ago, at least, I decided. The timbers had been rained on, and the grass no longer looked trampled.
“You wait here,” I told Ketya. “Keep watch and yell if you see anything, but be ready to run for shelter. I think the giants are probably gone. I can’t see any reason for them to stay, anyway.”
“How did they know to attack?” asked Ketya. She hadn’t missed the age of the torn roof either. “How would they know the magic would be gone? We’re miles and miles from the city.”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Maybe if we find survivors they can tell us.”
I thought I knew what stone giants could do. They weren’t unknown to the army: Mostly they kept to themselves in high, remote places away from people, but sometimes an old or diseased one would come downhill looking for easier prey. A strong channeler and a company of soldiers was more than a match for a sick giant, probably for a healthy one even. An isolated soldier had no chance at all.
I once was the guest of a governor who kept a stone giant caged in his menagerie. The thing was old and blind, most of its jaw eaten away by cancer. Patchy scabs covered it, and it smelled of the decay eating it away from inside. Even so, it had killed and eaten two keepers who had gotten too close, taking it for sleeping. It had almost escaped by tunneling out of its massive cage, disguising the tunnel entrance by sleeping on top of it whenever anyone approached: whether it detected people by hearing or smell I didn’t know. The governor had laughed that the tunnel would have been too small for the creature to fit through even if it had been successful, but as soon as I saw the tunnel’s trajectory, I knew the creature wasn’t trying to escape by crawling through the tunnel—it was undermining one of the walls of its cage.
I still hadn’t thought it would have been able to dislodge the exposed supports of
the cage, if its plot hadn’t been discovered. But when I saw the roof pulled from Lorinhold, I had to admit that I’d been wrong. Given a little more time, that old, blind, disease-ridden giant would have destroyed its cage, and killed everyone in the governor’s household while they slept. It probably wouldn’t have made it past the palace guards, but they were on the other side of the governor’s house and its garden menagerie.
Before that day I had loved zoos and menageries, from the time I was a boy. I still pretended to love them out of love for my daughter, and out of respect for friends and superiors who loved to show off their collections. But from that day forward a part of me sympathized more with the creature in the cage than with the captor, even when the captor was a friend.
Ketya
After his warning, Sperrin seemed to vanish, ghosting across the grass silently and almost invisibly, even in the afternoon brightness. I thought he would head right for the fort, but he actually made for the ruined houses of the village instead, disappearing into the nearest one. After that, I lost sight of him. I kept watching, but if he reappeared, I missed it.
The afternoon sun warmed me. Light playing in the grass looked almost hypnotic. I kept my eyes moving back and forth, from fort to village, trying not to get distracted.
The giant still almost surprised me.
Warned by a whisper of noise, I threw myself to the ground.
A massive arm shot down from the rock above. I rolled as it scraped the ground next to me. Scuttling into the narrow scrape between two huge rocks, I barely dodged a second grab. I almost stood before another whisper warned me. Claws whistled just above me as I forced myself tight against the ground.
Two of them.
Slowly, I eeled forward, far enough into the narrow crack that the first giant couldn’t reach in and pull me out. The arms above me kept sweeping down. I dared not risk a glance upward for fear of coming into range.
I wonder if I’ll be able to get out of this crack when they’re gone? I thought. Worry about that later.
I forced down everything but hearing and smell and touch, then focused everything on those senses as I slowly worked my way into the narrow passage. Was this an actual part of the trail, or just a dead end in the rocks? I didn’t know. I worried more about the passage ending and leaving me exposed, without enough room to retreat quickly.
Slowly the rocks rose around me. Soon I had room to look up without risking my head. I could hear at least one of the giants above—maybe both for all I knew. I could smell it, faint but musky, slightly cloying like rotting flowers.
I smelled human blood as well. Maybe there had been survivors after all. I hoped Sperrin hadn’t walked into an ambush.
The arm swung down again. This time I could see it: Long and corded with muscle, grayish skin. Here and there odd tufts and patches of wiry silver hair dotted the arm. A monster’s arm, but sleek and muscular.
I hate that thing. Anger and hate welled up in me, days of frustration and helplessness burning away in sudden fury.
I reached for my knives.
Then I caught myself. Angry still, but I remembered what Sperrin had said. If you get close enough to use a weapon on a giant, it will find a way to kill you.
I hadn’t yelled when the first giant attacked, I realized. I hoped I wasn’t leading him into a trap. Don’t be an idiot, I thought. He won’t miss two giants clambering around on top of the rocks trying to fish me out like a prize tidbit.
So what could I do that was actually useful?
What would Tenia do in this situation? The thought hurt, but it focused me.
She would want me to be her chancellor.
What do chancellors do? That crystallized things.
I can talk to them. I’m not a soldier but I’m smart. I went to the Academy. I might learn something.
How do you start a conversation with a stone giant? I wondered. The subject had never really come up at the Academy.
“So, uh...nice weather we’ve been having...” That was lame. In the stories it’s always something witty, and the plucky girl always outwits the giant.
The smell got stronger.
A head poked over the top of the rock and looked down at me from the top of the crack, twenty feet above. The giant furrowed its brows, looking puzzled. I probably looked the same way. The giant surprised me: From all the folktales I had expected something more human looking. The stone giant looked no more human than the merrow from the sally tunnels, or the godlings that killed the Empress. The creature looked more fey than anything, with gray-green skin and elfin ears, framing an unnaturally long face. The long face made the stone giant look oddly sad. But huge.
“I smell girl-blood,” the creature said. “Tasty, tasty girl-blood.” Its voice sounded oddly fluting, like a musical instrument blowing in the wind. Beautiful, if it wasn’t coming from a grotesque monster.
“My blood? Really? Are you actually saying that? That’s like a quote out of a faerie tale.”
The giant furrowed his eyebrows again. “I like blood.”
“I’m happy for you. I happen to be using mine.”
Massive shoulders shrugged. An arm swung down, lightning fast. I flinched, but the arm missed me by two feet.
“Come closer?” An odd pleading tone entered the musical voice.
“I think not.”
“But I like blood. Girl-blood I like especially. Tastes good.”
“Tough.”
A second head peered down at me, as the other giant joined its partner. Two arms reached down, came just short of my face. I slithered as low to the ground as I could get.
What do I do now? They’re smart. If I don’t do anything they will find a way to catch me. And I haven’t managed to find out anything yet.
“Why are you here? Other than to eat me, I mean.”
The second giant laughed, throaty and musical, deeper than the first giant. “You piss on a god, the god pisses back on you. We come here to help with the pissing.”
“And for blood,” the first giant chimed in.
“Someone made a god mad? Mad enough to break the treaty?”
“Gods keep their word. Always. They promised to tell us before they came back. They promised us revenge. And they kept their word. Messengers, they sent.”
“Blood,” agreed the first giant.
“The gods didn’t keep their word to us,” I said.
“Do not lie to giants. Gods keep word always. A god was invited to palace, just like treaty. Was invited in to kill. Sent messengers to tell all his friends when magic would die.”
“But...not just anyone can invite gods in. The treaty listed who could do it.”
The giant’s head nodded solemnly. “God followed treaty.”
“Was delicious,” added the first giant. “Blood.”
So the giants seemed sure the treaty hadn’t been broken. And if one god was breaking the treaty, wouldn’t others have gotten involved? But then why would a member of the Ananyan royal family invite their own deaths? It didn’t make any sense.
I heard a whisper. From somewhere close, but I couldn’t tell where. “You need to move before they start dropping things on you. They prefer live prey, but if they can’t catch you alive, they’ll kill you and fish you out after.”
I had never been so glad to hear Sperrin’s voice. Well, not since the palace, anyway.
“Which way?” I whispered back, hoping the giants wouldn’t hear.
“Straight ahead. There will be a fork to your left a little way up. You want to take it. If you keep going straight, you’ll be caught in a dead end.”
I started to eel forward.
“Keep low, especially when you turn. If you stay low, they can’t catch you.”
I kept moving, painfully slowly. Keeping my eyes ahead, I tried to ignore what I knew hunted me from the rocks above.
A plaintive wail of “girl-blood!” echoed from above as I wedged into the thin crevice to the left. The walls darkened as the crack above narrowed. Soon d
arkness surrounded me. I found myself crawling; the passage must be widening around me, even as it narrowed above my head.
“You can stand if you like,” Sperrin said, from very close by. “Keep a hand against the wall. It stays dark for a while. Unless you happen to see more of those blue runes of yours?”
“I can’t see anything.”
“That’s because there’s plenty of rock between us and the giants.”
“Good,” I said. I still sensed the presence of the giants, much too close. I could feel my heart beating, and imagined I felt the blood pumping in my veins. Knowing that a creature nearby wanted that blood colored my imagination.
“It will be dark for a while. We’re taking a roundabout way back to the camp, so that we’re not followed.”
I remembered why he’d gone ahead. “No one survived in the fort?” I asked. I hadn’t really expected him to find anyone, but part of me still hoped that things had gone better here than in the palace, that there had been more warning and an effective counterattack. And, selfishly, I knew more people with us would add a buffer to help ease the tension between my father and Sperrin.
The presence of the giants belied that hope, I knew.
“Not anymore,” Sperrin answered. “There had been, but the giants came back for them. I wish we’d been here a day sooner.”
“Wouldn’t we have died in the fort, then?”
He didn’t answer.
We walked in silence, until the darkness grew too oppressive. “Thank you for saving me,” I said finally. “Again, I mean. Thank you for saving me again.”
“I was glad to have you keeping watch,” he answered. “Mostly you saved yourself. I just found you a way out of the place you saved yourself into. With both giants focused on you, I had time to scout.”
* * * *
By the time we emerged from the rock jumble, high above the fort, it was dusk. Darkness had fallen before we reached the camp. Something in my look quieted my father, however. We ate in silence.
In my dreams, birds talked to me in musical voices like the giants. I awoke unrested to find the rain had resumed outside our shelter.
The Lost Daughters Page 21