Samin terrified the boy, with his granite face and hard eyes, though that might have been because Samin had made the mistake of trying to smile at him. Not a pretty thing, Samin's smile, at least not ‘til you got to know him. For whatever reason moved little girls, it had stirred a giggling fit in Caidi, and she'd allowed Samin to lift her and plop her on top of the things they'd packed into the dray, and even obediently complied when he gruffly directed her to fan out her cloak to cover what it would. Yori thought perhaps she better understood the girl's good humor when she saw Caidi surreptitiously poke her tongue out at Morin as Samin settled her in for the ride.
The boy hovered about their edges now, sticking to a loosely defined middle ground between his two elder brothers. Fen kept his head down, jaw set, silent but for occasional monosyllabic answers to Caidi's chatter behind him in the cart that he refused to allow anyone else to help him pull, all the while pretending not to limp. The twin, Joori, had engaged Malick for a while in a conversation Yori hadn't been able to hear above the rain and the squishy grind of the dray's wheels on the road, but she'd heard Asai's name spoken sharply twice—first by Joori then later by Malick—before Malick had stopped abruptly. He'd jerked his head at Yori to take point while he pulled the brother to the side to growl something at him, low and intense and strangely cross. Malick's eyes stayed on Fen the whole while, though Fen hadn't seemed to notice anything but his own feet and the death grip he had on the dray's handles since before they'd even gotten to his family. Samin had offered four times now to pull it for him, and four times had been ignored, until Samin had given up and dropped back to slog along beside Shig as rearguard.
"You're Yori, right?"
Yori shifted a glance sideways and tipped a little nod. “And you're Joori.” She couldn't help the silly grin. “Sorta rhymes."
The chuckle out of the dark sounded more tense than sincere. “So, how long have you known my brother?"
With an irritable swat at some fringe that wouldn't stay put beneath her hood, Yori blinked rain out of her eyes, squinting at the blob of murk walking beside her that was Fen's twin brother. “About....” She paused.
Besides whatever had passed between him and Malick, she'd watched this one trying to wring conversation out of Fen since they'd maneuvered the little cart out of the scraggy yard of the hut where they'd been staying, and had been surprised that he'd been just as unsuccessful as she'd ever been. She would've thought Fen would be more communicative with his family, at least, considering what he'd apparently gone through to protect them. All things considered, perhaps it wasn't her place to be blabbing things Fen himself didn't choose to disclose.
"A little while.” She slanted a look sideways at the sigh that was nearly a growl, and steered the subject in another direction: “Has anyone told you we've a hot-spring bath where we're going? Bet it'll be nice for you to sink into that, won't it? I know I can't wait.” And she hadn't been living out in the middle of nowhere for weeks and weeks with no apparent bathing facilities but a half-full barrel in the dooryard.
"You've come very well armed,” Joori observed, ignoring her comment altogether, his voice just as deep as Fen's, but with a different nuance she couldn't quite ken yet. “I take it you don't have the same magic as that other one, with the hair."
Yori snickered at the description. She'd have to remember to tell Shig later. “That's Shig,” she told Joori. “My sister."
"I figured,” Joori replied. “You look a lot alike."
"Except for the hair, yeah?” Yori grinned.
"And you're prettier."
Yori only just kept from rolling her eyes. Honestly—men were so transparent. “So, you tried wringing answers out of Fen, then arguing them out of Malick, and now you're down to flattery.” She shook her head. “You're not even very good at it."
"Huh,” said Joori. “Strange, because I meant it.” Yori could just make out a shrug in the dark, then frowning features momentarily illuminated by a fleeting streak of lightning. “I won't say I'm above it,” Joori said over the quiet rumble of thunder, “and I certainly do want answers, but it's still the truth."
Yori gave him a slit-eyed stare as he walked along beside her, looking right back, his eyes a mere dull gleam in the night. She had to admit he was attractive. Identical to Fen in respect to facial features, but there was something about Fen—his hardness, maybe; that all-consuming rage too often in his gaze—that had... not repelled her, really, but at least put her off from the start. Unlike some infatuated dimwits, Yori had never had a single carnal thought about their newest duckling. This one, though....
"Fen works with us,” she told Joori.
"And you rescue the families of everyone who works with you?"
"Everyone who works with us is family."
Joori went quiet for a few moments, taking that in, then he turned his head to look at Yori. “He's been looking for our mother."
"I know."
"And you—?"
"Yes."
Silence again while Joori pondered whatever he was pondering, turning every now and then to walk backward for a second or two, likely eyeing his brother, before turning back. “He looks like shit,” he told Yori, low and just for her. “What's going on with him?"
Yori looked back over her shoulder, squinting, but all she could make out was Fen's hunched figure, stubbornly pulling the dray and trying to keep up with the pace she and Joori were setting. Malick was walking beside him now, and Morin hovered a little closer than he'd done before. Fen had stopped even the quiet, one-word answers he'd been giving his sister, a chore that Malick had seemingly taken to himself, though Caidi didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed charmed, which almost made Yori roll her eyes, but the girl couldn't be much older than ten, and it was Malick, after all. Samin had moved up to walk behind the cart, leaving Shig to watch their backs, which he wouldn't ordinarily have done unless Malick had told him to. It appeared Fen's brother was not the only one waiting for him to collapse, though Yori was putting her koin on Fen—he was too mulish to let his body stop if he wanted it to keep going. In Yori's observation, when Fen hit a wall, he just rammed until it fell down.
"He got a cut on his leg last night,” Yori said. “Umeia had to sew him up. Probably just needs a painkiller. And to stop insisting on pulling that dray by himself.” Bloody bonehead.
"I saw him last night.” Joori had turned again, cloak billowing around his knees as he pivoted to walk backward. Yori could see more of his face now, though he was still little more than a dim smudge against the foggy black. “I didn't notice anything wrong with his leg, although....” A shrug. “He was covered in blood."
It was the accent—that was what was different. Joori had the same voice as Fen, but Fen didn't have the twangy Jin accent. Huh.
"Yeah?” Yori shrugged too, but didn't volunteer anything. Like how Fen's descent from the top of the Gate had been more like a fall, and that he'd landed awkwardly then snarled off any concerned attempts to help. And how she was almost certain she'd heard a strangled wheeze of a scream when he was trying to drag the dray from the culvert where he and Shig had stashed it, and then nearly bitten Malick's hand off when he bulled his way in to help. Obstinate idiot. She'd have to make sure Umeia knew about it when they got back. Umeia would take care of it, whatever it was. He'd probably gone and gotten the thing infected, and Yori would bet some stitches got pulled when he was wrestling with that cart. What the hell were they supposed to do with all these people if Fen up and died on them? And anyway, what would...?
Wait.
"You saw him last night?” Yori frowned. “How? When?"
"Is he sleeping with that man? That Malick?"
Yori blinked, eyebrows snapping upward. Apparently, flapping from subject to subject was a family trait. She almost barked a laugh, but the question had been posed so... almost angrily, and the tone of it, the suspicion inside it, roused something oddly protective in her. Fen's brother or not, this Joori wasn't theirs, at least not yet, and what
Malick and Fen got up to wasn't even her business, let alone his.
"I'm not quite certain that's your concern,” she told him, her own tone deliberately even and unruffled. “Or mine. Perhaps you'd best ask Fen."
Joori turned his head from his scrutiny of his brother, stared at Yori for several strides, then waved a hand vaguely over toward Fen, said, “Pardon me for a moment,” and he walked off.
Damn. Yori wished she could warn Fen, and apologize in advance for apparently setting his brother on him, but.... Well, maybe it would make him stop dragging that stupid cart for a little while, at least. Joori was right about that—Fen looked like shit.
Deliberately, Yori looked away, sent a glance ahead and to all points, scanning the shadows, but if anything was going to come at them, she was fairly certain she wasn't going to see it before it saw them, not tonight. No moons, a low-hanging fog, and trees bloody everywhere. She'd have to rely on Shig and Malick twigging in time. Anyway, they were halfway home, and nothing had happened so far, and she had more magic at the Gates to look forward to.
Biting back a bit of a sigh, Yori ignored the steadily rising sound of Joori's voice as he chastised his brooding brother, tried to ignore her numbing toes with rather less success, and tucked her hands up under her cloak to warm her fingers. If there was trouble, she'd need them flexible. Although, she mused, trying not to snort as Joori's voice rose again, and the sound of the dray's wheels on the road ceased abruptly, perhaps any trouble that might come wouldn't be from anything lurking out there in the dark.
Then again....
"Yori, look sharp!” Malick snapped as he flew past her, sword drawn and stalking ahead, a hot welter of power like she'd never felt in her life nearly swatting her aside when he brushed her arm. Had that come from Malick?
Body moving before she even told it to, Yori swung her bow around and nocked an arrow, feet planting themselves into an offensive stance, even as she squinted ahead in the direction Malick was striding. Trees and more trees, shadows and more shadows, and she'd been looking right at them only a second ago, but now... well, bloody damn. Now they were moving. And not in any way people moved—at least not people with bones beneath their skin. Vague man-shapes then hunched... somethings. It was fascinating and revolting all at the same time, and she hadn't even got a good look yet. She wished for a flash of lightning, just so she could see what the hell they were dealing with.
She spared a quick glance behind her, taking in the configurations, so she'd know if things got messy. Fen had shoved all of his siblings behind him. Morin and Caidi both huddled in the cart with Joori between them and his brother. Samin still stood behind the dray, sword drawn, watching Malick, and Shig had turned to face the rear, bright head atilt in the way it did when she let her own magic loose, seeking. Satisfied, Yori turned back, eyes flicking back and forth between the smoky curls of... whatever they were farther up the road and Malick as he stalked up to them, planted himself mere paces away, and drew himself straight. Threatening. Frightening in a way she'd never seen him before. Powerful.
"Three of you?” he taunted, swinging his sword lazily in a figure eight about his shoulders, smirking. “That's all?"
Rolling hisses gathered from the writhing murk as it wound into three distinct shapes then fanned out again.
"No,” Shig called from behind. “There's more."
Yori glanced back again, just long enough to see more of them pooling to either side of the dray, like twisting pieces of the stormy sky, thrashing themselves into shapes she almost recognized but couldn't quite settle in her head yet.
"Fucking Husao,” Malick muttered, jaw clenched. “Manipulative prick. Whatever you see,” he called, voice deep and resonant, almost eager, like he was looking forward to whatever was coming, “remember that it's all glamour. They're only maijin. They bleed and die just like everything else."
Terrific, Yori thought sourly, good to know, then sucked in a long breath and sighted down.
* * * *
It had to be Husao, Malick concluded, or Vonshi, or whatever Husao was calling himself at the moment. Malick watched the shapes take on substance, hunched beasts vaguely wolfen, snarling through slobbering, jag-toothed maws. They were still on Asai's lands, which made these Asai's creatures, but Malick had been covering all his people since they stepped foot out the Girou, and Husao and Umeia were the only ones who knew they were coming. Even if Husao hadn't told Asai directly, that split second when he'd dropped his protections over Fen's brothers and sister might have been enough for Asai to have twigged. And the wolf-shapes... just too damned obvious. Arrogant fucking prick.
Malick sneered.
He could strip away all their glamours, but he didn't want to give himself away if he didn't have to, and it wouldn't necessarily stop them from attacking, anyway—they weren't after Malick himself, after all, and they couldn't touch him even if they were. He could veil his own people and walk right past the threat, except his veil wouldn't work on Fen, he'd be exposed, and Malick didn't know for certain to whom these maijin answered. None but Wolf's-own could touch Wolf's Untouchable, but if even a single one of them was Wolf's.... And Asai was smart—he'd have thought of that.
"Shit,” Malick muttered, keeping his eyes on the creatures as he turned his head a little to call over his shoulder, “Fen? Don't get excited, all right?” then he sent his veil to Joori, Morin, and Caidi, heard Fen cry out a little when they disappeared in front of him, but Samin was rumbling something at him, so Malick had to hope he wouldn't do anything stupid. “Shig, I need you up here.” Well, he didn't need her up here, but touch just made it easier, and why expel more power than he had to? Shig didn't employ her usual ambling, I'll get there when I get there gait, but was at his side inside three breaths. Malick reached out with his free hand and latched onto her arm, let her magic curl in through his palm, and found Joori. Take them out of the cart, Malick told him, and bring them over here behind me. He felt the alarm, the confusion, the anger, and cut through it: No time for angst and avarice right now. Do as I tell you and your family will live. Stay there and stare, and your brother will throw himself in front of every one of these things to protect you.
"You're Temshiel,” one of the creatures growled, guttural and garbled through a throat and mouth not meant for speech. Another made a quick dive for the dray, prancing back with a leering grin as Fen's knives just missed its nose. Teasing. Taunting. Playing with its food, Skel would have said.
"Kamen,” the one in front of Malick rumbled.
Shit. Whoever this was, he or she knew him. Which meant Asai would know before the night was through.
"Uh-huh,” Malick replied easily. He flipped the handle of the sword in his palm and grinned. “And you're apparently exactly as smart as you look, and don't choose your allies very well. But don't worry—you won't be regretting it for long."
Something like a graveled growl, thick and wet, and the loose circle of shadowy not-wolves snorted through soggy muzzles. Bodies curled in and tightened the loose ring, long jaws pulling back in feral grins before the one in front of Malick morphed again. Wet fur turned to gleaming scales, multihued beneath a metallic matte as teeth became barbed fangs, paws became rough talons.
"Ooh.” Malick blew out a soft whistle. “D'you breathe fire too?"
"The earth-bound,” it hissed. Like it really did expect Malick to just shrug and hand it what it wanted.
Malick shook his head, still grinning, and slipped his hand once again to Shig's arm, said, “Sure. But you'll have to get through his brother first,” and sent, Move your bloody ass—hurry, to Joori at the same time.
Joori was already moving, but the prod quickened his pace. Fen seemed to have taken Malick literally and lunged at the closest of the man-sized pseudo-wolves, knives whirling, and face set in all too familiar rage. Malick did the same. He waded into the thick of the three before him, and watched out the corner of his eye as Joori swept his little sister onto his hip. Joori shoved Morin ahead of him, angling betwe
en Fen and Samin as he led them through the small pocket of calm in the middle of the abrupt melee. Just in time too; every one of the creatures that wasn't already engaged with either Malick or Fen went driving in for the dray, apparently assuming their quarry was still there.
"Keep down!” Malick called to Joori, then he swung his sword around, satisfied when it hacked through rigid scales covering a long neck, before he glanced again to make sure Joori had obeyed. Yori's bow was twanging, and she wouldn't be able to see Joori and the others if they got in her way. “Fen, I've got them,” Malick called, then, “Yori, shoot high—go for the eyes,” just in case, as Fen's siblings made their way to a huddled knot behind Malick, as close to the ground as they could get without actually crawling.
Shig liberated a knife from one of Malick's sheaths, but seemed to be concentrating mostly on pulling apart the glamours, distracting the maijin as they tried to maintain them. Samin and Fen simply engaged. Samin had gone out of practice with the sword, but it seemed all the sparring with Fen had done him some good; he swung the thing in wide, efficient arcs, wounding whatever was in his path with each blow. Fen was doing what Fen did—nothing more than a whirling flash of metal in the dark as he placed himself staunchly between the things and his siblings where they hunched behind Malick.
Wolf's-own: Weregild Page 2