On the seventh day, they stopped at a middling-sized town called Uless, where they left the horses at the inn’s stable. Dianthe bought staples, oats and coffee and other basic food items, at the local market. They packed their supplies on Button, the donkey, who’d traveled without complaint the whole long road, and hired a second donkey to carry the falcon emblem when they found it. That struck Sienne as cheerfully optimistic. She shouldered her pack with an easy competence she was proud of. Falling in behind Alaric, she headed north with her team, off the road and into the wilderness.
It didn’t feel like wilderness the whole first day. There were still settlements here and there, lone farmsteadings with rail fences and dogs that ran along the fences and barked at them. The grass underfoot was short and fine, new first summer growth that looked as soft as a velvet fringe and greener than fresh peas out of the pod. It was easy for Sienne to shed her remaining disquiet and relax in her friends’ company.
“I must say, this has been the least adventuresome adventure we have yet faced,” Perrin said late that afternoon. “It is almost a pleasure excursion. I say that in full realization that we have yet to face the difficult part.”
“I know,” Dianthe said. “I’m having trouble taking this seriously.”
“I’m not,” Alaric said grimly. “That woman has the knife we need. That makes this serious.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t feel serious in itself,” Dianthe pointed out. “Nothing’s attacked us. We’re not going to explore an ancient ruin. If it weren’t for the knife, it would feel like cheating.”
They walked on in silence for a few paces. “That would have been a perfect time for something to jump us,” Dianthe said. “You see? It doesn’t feel serious.”
“Even midges would be something,” Perrin said.
“Don’t talk about midges,” Sienne said with a shudder.
“Midges aren’t dangerous,” Alaric said, in a rumble that verged on laughter. “Everyone knows that.”
“They are if they attack you en masse. I can still feel the bites.”
“I don’t think anyone in the history of scrapping has ever been taken down by a midge attack,” Alaric said. “Until you.”
“I did say not to talk about midges, didn’t I? I’m pretty sure I heard myself say that.”
“We will talk about them so long as it makes you annoyed,” Kalanath said with a grin, “because it does not stop being funny.”
“It’s not funny to me,” Sienne said, but she couldn’t help smiling at the memory, which hadn’t been funny at the time but was admittedly hilarious now. She’d thought she was being so responsible, going off to investigate movement during her watch, and then they’d sprung like so many fist-sized fleas, latching on to her arms and face and pumping her full of their venom. The bites had swollen to the size of large apples, and she’d itched for days, even after Perrin’s blessing had cured her.
“It shouldn’t be,” Alaric said, then intoned in a deliberately pompous voice, “because it taught you a valuable lesson about always waiting for support.”
“You’re not funny either. And now I’m itching again. Thanks.” She awkwardly scratched the middle of her back, beneath her pack.
“There’s a river ahead,” Dianthe said, shading her eyes, “but I don’t see a ford.”
“We have time. We can follow it a ways, see what we can find,” Alaric said.
Clumps of trees defined the river’s banks, steep and muddy. The river, swollen by the late winter rains, rushed along its course, in a hurry to reach its destination far to the south. They followed it for about a mile before they found a place they could cross. Alaric consulted his map. “It meanders across the countryside,” he said. “We’ll likely have to cross it a couple of times before we reach our destination.”
“Could we not simply follow it, and avoid a wetting?” Perrin asked.
“We could, but it would take twice as long. At least it’s not winter.” Alaric folded the map and put it away. “Let’s start looking for a place to camp.”
They ended up camping in the shelter of a grove of trees some two hundred feet from the river. Despite its proximity, no one said anything when Sienne summoned water by magic rather than drawing from the icy flow. Even Alaric was used to her using her magic for ordinary tasks like washing up or making coffee.
Kalanath set snares, and they ate roasted rabbit from skewers in companionable silence as the sun went down. Sienne stretched out her legs to warm her feet at the fire. Her boots were waterproof, but splashing across the river ford had frozen her toes.
“We should reach the village late tomorrow,” Alaric said. “If we don’t make it there at least two hours before sunset, I think we might be better off making camp early and approaching the place in the morning.”
“You don’t think there’s any danger, do you?” Dianthe asked.
“No. But I do think it will take time to find this stone, and I’d rather not have to cut our search short because of nightfall.” Alaric leaned back on his hands and stretched out his legs as Sienne was doing. “And I admit to being superstitious about camping in a place that was the site of…not calamity, exactly, but certainly bad luck.”
“I agree,” Perrin said. “At the very least, we would be surrounded by melancholy, and I dislike melancholy when it is not of my own making.”
Kalanath tossed a twig at the fire. “I do not understand,” he said, “how the old duke told the entire village to leave. Does a duke have such power?”
“A duke has such responsibility,” Sienne said. “Though I think many rulers would simply have abandoned their people and gone to another of their properties. It would have cost Tonia’s ancestor a fortune to relocate the entire dukedom, even if the entire dukedom was just the one village. What I don’t understand is how there’s even a title for Tonia to reclaim. It sounded like the villagers dispersed to other holdings, leaving the old duke with nothing but the name and an empty holding. In that case, the king would have annulled the title and absorbed the property into someone else’s dukedom.”
“I don’t know anything about how the Rafellish government works, aside from how the dukes all owe allegiance to the king,” Alaric said. “Maybe she intends to reclaim the property and reestablish the holding. There aren’t a lot of nobles interested in extending their responsibilities this far north.”
Perrin took a sip from his flask. “I will feel more comfortable when we see this place. I cannot imagine the stone as she describes it, save to suspect it will not be easy to retrieve. Nor to carry out.”
“I am sorry for the donkey, to be loaded so,” Kalanath said with a grimace.
They all looked at where Button and his nameless companion stood hobbled nearby. “What if the stone’s too heavy?” Sienne asked.
“We’ll rig a sledge and have both donkeys pull it,” Alaric said. “But I’m not going to worry about it yet. Time enough for that when we’ve found the thing.”
The distant rumble of thunder made Sienne draw up her feet. “I think I’ll go to bed before it starts raining.”
“Regular watch rotation,” Alaric said. “And don’t forget your rain capes. Sounds like we’ll need them.”
Regular watch rotation meant Sienne watched last. In the beginning, that had been because she was unused to walking all day and needed a full night’s sleep. Now it was because she cooked breakfast. She’d been surprised to discover she liked cooking over the fire, not to mention watching the sun rise. She still wasn’t tired of that. Every sunrise was different, but they all began with darkness turning to gray and then rosy gold, as if the world were waking up.
She took her waterproof rain cape into the tent with her and spread it across the foot of her bedroll, wrapped her soft woolen blanket around her for more warmth, and fell asleep as the first raindrops struck the tent canvas.
She woke to Alaric shaking her leg. The rain was coming down harder, but not in sheets, and she pulled on her rain cape before crouching to leave the
tent. Alaric looked damp despite his cape. “There’s nothing out in this rain but us,” he said, “and I’m afraid the fire’s gone out. No hot breakfast for us.”
“Has it really been raining all night?”
“On and off. Makes it hard to see anything.” His brow was furrowed. “But I thought…”
“Thought what?”
“Thought I saw something moving about an hour ago. Something human-sized and pale. But wisps don’t come out when it’s raining, so it was probably nothing.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me a little paranoia is healthy for a scrapper?”
He grinned. “Trust you to remember that.”
They were standing close together, close enough for her to touch him—or for him to touch her. Silence fell, one of those awkward silences she was now so familiar with. Alaric’s expression changed, became thoughtful. “Sienne…” he said.
Her breathing sounded like a gale in her ears. “Yes?”
She could tell the moment he changed his mind about whatever he was going to say. “Keep an eye out to the east. That’s where I saw movement.”
Disappointment coursed through her. “Toward the village?”
“No—wait. Yes.” He looked in that direction. “I hadn’t put it together, but yes.”
“Don’t!”
“Don’t what?”
“Go off and explore by yourself.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. It’s tempting, though. Suppose someone set up house in the abandoned village? We might be facing a real challenge.”
“Then I definitely want to face it in daylight.”
Alaric nodded. “I’ll see if I can catch a few hours’ sleep. Wake me if you see anything.” He turned and ducked into the men’s tent, shedding his rain cape and shaking it off outside.
Sienne paced the perimeter of the camp, trying not to walk faster on the east side. Alaric’s words had made her nervous. She still didn’t know the spell cat’s eye, that would give her true night vision, and she felt the lack keenly. Probably it wouldn’t be as useful in a rainstorm, but it would comfort her to know she could see anything that might try to sneak up on her.
She prodded the sodden fire with her toe. Her simple spark magic wouldn’t be able to ignite anything that wet, and another thing she didn’t know was a stronger fire spell, one that would dry the wood no matter how saturated it was. It frustrated her how much she didn’t know.
The rain seemed to be letting up. She wiped her face, unprotected by the rain cape, and shivered. Probably she should have put the cape on over her cloak, for extra warmth, but the cape was smaller than the cloak and the cloak just would have gotten wet. She went back to walking around the camp. True summer felt like it was far more than three and a half months away.
Something fluttered past the corner of her eye.
She spun, scattering water drops, toward the movement. Nothing. Whatever it was had been pale, and moved lightly, like…like a bird. Sienne felt stupid. Sure, birds probably sheltered from weather like this, but there was no reason one might not have taken wing just then. She scanned the fields extending into misty distance away from the trees and the river. Still nothing.
Then something moved, far off in the fields in the direction of the village. Sienne held her breath. It didn’t move like a bird, but like…like nothing she’d ever seen before, actually. It didn’t walk, or lope, it glided as if it were on wheels. It was big, at least human-sized, and pale against the darkness. Then it was gone, between one breath and the next, vanished like a black curtain had fallen between it and Sienne.
Sienne took an involuntary step toward where it had been. Then her scrapper’s intuition caught up with her brain, and she drew in a breath and shouted, “Alaric!”
“What?” came Perrin’s sleep-fogged voice. Canvas rustled, and quick footsteps on the soggy ground came up behind her.
“What did you see?” Alaric said.
Sienne pointed. “Way out there, something white and big—and it disappeared.”
Alaric took a few steps in the direction she indicated before stopping. Behind them, more noise indicated she’d woken the entire camp, and she flushed with embarrassment. The thing was gone, whatever it was, and she’d overreacted.
“Is there danger?” Perrin asked. Sienne looked around. Only Dianthe had her rain cape. The men were all becoming steadily wet in the last drops of the rainstorm. Alaric’s blond hair grew dark with water.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. It’s gone, whatever it was, it just—it didn’t feel like nothing. It sort of glided across the fields for a few seconds, and then it was gone.”
“That sounds like what I saw,” Alaric said. “Very far away, but still noticeable. Did it come toward you?”
“No, away. It was almost like a puppet, or a piece of stage setting. It didn’t move like anything natural.”
Alaric stared off into the distance. “What time is it?”
Sienne fumbled out her pocket watch. “Almost six. It will be sunrise in about half an hour.”
“We are all awake,” Kalanath said. “And there will be no hot breakfast. Perhaps we should strike camp.”
“That was my thought,” Alaric said. “If there are creatures out there, or people, I’d rather come upon them on our own terms. Sienne, why don’t you serve out breakfast, and the rest of us will pack up.”
Sienne rummaged through the supplies and found a bag of apples and some dried meat. She heated the water in the coffeepot, not to boiling—her small magic couldn’t manage that—but as hot as she could make it, and poured out cups of stewed coffee for everyone, even herself and Kalanath, who didn’t like the bitter beverage. They needed something hot on a morning like this.
By the time the sun rose, the rain had stopped and they were well on their way. Sienne was grateful for her waterproof boots as they slogged through the wet, muddy grass. Every footstep sent up a whiff of crushed new grass and the darker, almost bitter scent of black, rich soil. Birds swept by overhead, calling to each other in twittering coos. It helped Sienne forget the fear she’d felt watching that… thing… glide past. She’d faced monstrous creatures before, but this was the first thing she’d seen in the wilderness that made her feel helpless with fear. And she hadn’t even seen it up close.
She rubbed the harness of her spellbook. It was soft leather and made to open without impeding the pages turning. On a whim, she snatched it up and willed it open to force, then flipped the pages at speed. Castle. Fit. Imitate. Slick.
“Sienne, you’re making me nervous,” Alaric said without turning around.
“I was just practicing.”
“I know. I assume if you saw something you needed to cast a spell at, you’d shout a warning first. But listening to the pages rustle, I can’t help feeling we’re about to be attacked.”
“There isn’t anything for miles,” Dianthe said, gesturing at the empty horizon.
“I do not see this thing you saw,” Kalanath said. “Perhaps it comes out only at night.”
“I have been thinking of a blessing I might request,” Perrin said. “Something that will provide extra protection to our camp at night. When we stop in an hour or so for me to pray, I will ask Averran if in his wisdom he might not grant it us.”
“Not something that removes the need for us to watch?” Alaric said.
“Possibly, though I think human awareness is superior to any form of magical warning. No, it is an alarm of sorts, something that will alert us if anything above a specified size crosses its boundary. It is not intelligent enough to ward only against things intending us harm, and prone to false alarms, but ideal for warning against enemies we have difficulty seeing.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Dianthe said. “I take it that means there isn’t anything smart enough not to go off if a rabbit crosses its path?”
“I think not. Averran believes humanity benefits from exercising its God-given wisdom, and rarely provides blessings that take its place.”
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br /> “I’ll take whatever Averran is willing to grant,” Alaric said.
Two hours later, they reached the river again, and paused on the riverbank for Perrin to make his devotions. The four retreated a few yards to give him privacy. Sienne watched the water flow past, carrying with it twigs and leaves from the previous night’s storm. Perrin was right; this was the least like an adventure they’d ever had. She shivered. That felt like ill-wishing. Anything could still happen, and there was the thing she’d seen… but in the bright light of morning, it was hard to believe in monsters.
Perrin stood, dusting himself off, and came to join them. He was frowning. “Something wrong?” Dianthe asked.
“I am not sure. I received the warding blessing I asked for, and a scrying blessing. I thought we might want to examine the village from a distance.”
“Good idea,” Alaric said.
“But that is not what disturbs me.” Perrin waved the rice paper squares of his blessings at them. “I left it to Averran to choose what else he would bless me with. There are five healing blessings.”
“That is many,” Kalanath said. “More than before.”
“I have never received so many healing blessings at one time. I fear what it means for the coming day.” Perrin rummaged in his pack for his sewing kit and his pastels. “One moment, and I will be ready to proceed.”
“Take your time,” Alaric said. “Let’s walk carefully. It’s not quite hostile territory, but we should be alert.”
They waited for Perrin to assemble his blessings into a riffle of marked papers, then moved out again. The remaining clouds cleared away, leaving a blue sky through which the sun drifted as they walked. Sienne found herself clutching her spellbook too tightly and forced her hands to relax, only to have to repeat the process again and again throughout the morning. By noon, when nothing had attacked them, she was tired and edgy and ready for a rest. But Alaric handed out food so they could eat while they walked. “I want us to make good time,” he said when Sienne protested. “Even if we don’t reach the village in time for some exploring, we’ll still need the light to choose a good campsite.”
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