The Darkness Before the Dawn

Home > Other > The Darkness Before the Dawn > Page 7
The Darkness Before the Dawn Page 7

by Ryan Hughes


  "I hope not," she said. "I still have your other foot to do." She let his right one go and scooted around to do his left.

  Jedra watched her stop the bleeding again, but this time he felt a wave of uneasiness pass over him. He looked away, but the sensation continued to grow. It wasn't nausea; this was more like alarm. Something was wrong. He couldn't imagine what it could be, though. The pain was going away just like in the other foot.

  Even so, he couldn't shake the sensation of impending disaster. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with his foot. It felt a little like the feeling he sometimes got when someone was watching him, but out here in the desert? There wasn't anything for miles around.

  Or was there? Jedra scanned the sandy horizon beyond Kayan, then twisted around to check behind him.

  "Hold still," Kayan said.

  There. Just around the edge of a wind-hollowed dune about thirty feet away, Jedra sensed a presence. "Something's out there," he said.

  Kayan looked up. "What? Where?"

  "Over-" But Jedra didn't need to point. The moment its cover was blown, a b'rohg leaped out from behind the dune and charged toward them, screaming a ululating war cry that sent shivers up their backs.

  Jedra had seen b'rohgs before in the arena. They were four-armed humanoid giants, mutations or throwbacks to an earlier age. Not particularly bright, but vicious fighters. This one was about twice as tall as Jedra, heavily muscled, and fast. It carried a crude stone-tipped spear in its upper right hand, poised for throwing.

  "Run!" Kayan screamed. She leaped up, pulling Jedra to his feet, and took off directly away from the b'rohg. Jedra followed her as soon as he got his balance, but he realized instantly that they would never outrun the creature. At least he wouldn't. Kayan hadn't had time to finish; his left foot still flared in agony with each step. They didn't have time to mindlink and fight the b'rohg psionically, either. And without weapons, they were as good as dead.

  The b'rohg was even faster than he expected. Jedra had to put on a burst of speed to keep the creature aimed in the right direction, and even so it looked like he might not make it. He turned harder to the left, running directly across the b'rohg's path. If this didn't work, the b'rohg wouldn't even have to use its spear; it could just grab Jedra in its massive arms when they collided.

  The distance between them closed to twenty feet, then ten. Jedra was about to turn and face the b'rohg in a last desperate stand when the creature shrieked in pain and whirled around as if something had grabbed it by the leg.

  Something had. Jedra had led it right over the sand cactus.

  The b'rohg tottered on one foot, flailing its arms for balance. Jedra knew it was strong enough to pull free once it regained its footing, and maybe even strong enough to keep chasing him. He couldn't lose his momentary advantage, so he did the one thing he could think of: He concentrated his psionic power and imagined pushing the creature over.

  It hadn't done much good when he'd fought Sahalik, but now maybe it would be enough. Jedra shoved with all his might, and the b'rohg flailed its arms even more, then finally it shrieked in terror and fell over into the patch of cactus needles.

  At least four more penetrated its skin, holding it fast to the ground, and as the giant humanoid screamed and thrashed around it impaled itself again and again until it could barely move.

  Then the cactus began sucking it dry.

  Kayan came back to stand beside Jedra, and they watched in horrified fascination as the b'rohg's burnt-orange skin turned pale and its flesh slowly shrank around its bones.

  "It's carnivorous," Kayan whispered incredulously. "That's why your blood wouldn't clot. The cactus drinks blood, so it secretes something to keep it fluid."

  The b'rohg shuddered once more, then lay still. The spear fell from its grasp and thumped to the sand.

  Jedra shuddered, too. He was just as responsible for the creature's horrible death as the cactus was. The fact that it had attacked him didn't make him feel much better about it. He had used his psionic power to kill another intelligent being. Not a very intelligent one, to be sure, but smart enough to use a spear. The b'rohgs Jedra had seen in Urik had been able to understand a few spoken commands.

  Why had it attacked them? he wondered. Probably for their water, given that the b'rohg didn't have a waterskin of its own. It didn't have much of anything, just a scaly reptile skin of some sort wrapped around its waist, and the spear.

  Hmm. The spear.

  "We should try to get that," Jedra said. Trying to ignore the desiccated corpse, he crab-walked toward the weapon, sweeping the sand in front of him with his robe as he went to detect any more thorns. When he reached the spear he grasped it by the haft just below the stone point and dragged it back out, careful to step in his same tracks.

  The spear was nearly ten feet long, and three inches thick. The haft wasn't solid wood; it was a hollow tube honeycombed with holes. Jedra suspected it was the heartwood of one of the long, skinny kinds of cacti he'd seen farther back where vegetation had been more plentiful. Whatever it was, it was lightweight and strong. The heaviest part of it was the stone point that had been flaked to a sharp edge and bound to the haft with rawhide thongs. The whole thing had a weight and a balance to it that felt right. Though Jedra had no idea how to throw a spear, it felt good in his hand.

  "Maybe we should put some distance between us and this place," Kayan said. "Something else might come to investigate the noise."

  "Good idea," Jedra said. He wanted to leave anyway. He made a wide detour around the sand cactus and its captive, limping a bit on his not-quite-healed left foot, and led the way toward the west. He winced with each footstep, not just because of the pain, or because of the small but noticeable hole in each sandal, but because he expected to encounter another invisible patch of thorns at any moment.

  Despite his fears, they made another mile without mishap, and when they had put a couple of large dunes between them and the hapless b'rohg, they stopped to rest again. Kayan finished healing Jedra's left foot, then they shared another of their honeycakes and washed it down with a drink of water. They had ten cakes left out of the twelve Galar had given them, but they were going through water fast; Jedra figured they only had enough for another day and a half at this rate. They needed refreshment now, though, to help recoup the strength they had lost to the sand cactus.

  "Oh, I don't know," Kayan said with a grin. "As long as you walk in front, I don't mind healing you."

  "Right." He knew she was joking, but something about her attitude still irked him. Then he remembered some advice an old veteran of the streets had once given him, and he laughed. "You were pretty quick to take the lead when the b'rohg attacked," he told Kayan.

  "Yeah, well, the ground cactus seemed the lesser danger at the moment."

  "Someone I knew once told me, 'When you go hunting wild inix, you should always take a companion with you. That way you never have to outrun an enraged inix; you only have to outrun your companion.' "

  Now it was her turn to miss the joke. "Jedra, I wasn't trying to leave you to the b'rohg! I was running for my life, and I thought you were right behind me."

  "I was kidding," he told her.

  "Oh."

  She still didn't laugh, so Jedra dropped it. He toyed with the spear some more, thinking that he could wave it in front of him to detect sand cactus, save that their progress would be excruciatingly slow if they had to sweep every inch of trail ahead of them. He wondered how the elves did it. He hadn't marched at the head of the column, so he'd never seen what the scouts did for protection. Spotting a pile of bones that hadn't been disturbed would be a fair indication that you were in cactus territory, but that wouldn't protect you from a young plant that hadn't fed yet. Maybe heavier sandals would provide more protection, or there might be a way to spot the needles if you knew what to look for.

  He didn't have either the sandals or the knowledge. What he had was a spear, a knapsack, and his robe.

  Hmm. His robe was already ripped
to shreds; he'd hardly miss another chunk off the bottom of it. If he tied that to the spear...

  "What are you doing?" Kayan asked when he ripped off a foot-wide, two-foot-long strip of his robe.

  "Watch," he told her. He tugged it through the holes at the butt end of the spear, leaving two loose ends that flopped down on either side, then he tied two of the corners together so the bottom hem ran in a continuous line from side to side. Standing up, he put the spear over his shoulder so the heavy stone point would counterbalance the rest of it, and he took a couple of steps with the rag just scraping the ground in front of him. "There," he said. "A crude but functional sand cactus detector." "Wow," Kayan said. "That just might work." "Of course it'll work," Jedra said, his pride wounded by the thought that she might not think so. He jounced the pole on his shoulder a time or two and said, "Are you rested enough? I want to try it."

  Grinning at his boyish enthusiasm, she stood up and put on her pack again. "All right. Lead on."

  It took him a few minutes to get the hang of it. At first the end of the spear would dip down and dig into the ground every few steps, or it would lift up too high and the cloth wouldn't drag the surface, but he soon settled into a smoother stride that kept the spear butt aimed down at the right angle. He couldn't take his eyes off the ground for long, though, so Kayan had to navigate from behind, calling out, "A little to the right," or "Watch out for that rock."

  Eagerness to test his new invention kept him going for another mile or so, but then fatigue began to set in again and he wondered if he were being silly. Maybe these sand cacti were exceptionally rare, and he was doing the equivalent of keeping a constant watch out for dragons.

  Then the cloth snagged on something, and the spear haft jerked backward in his hand. Jedra stopped with his foot still upraised, his pulse suddenly pounding. He slowly backed up a pace.

  "Find one?" Kayan asked.

  "I think so." Jedra tugged the cloth free and waved the end of the spear around in a circle, and sure enough, it snagged again a foot or so away. Very carefully, he worked his way around in a half circle, sweeping out a clear path around the perimeter of the needle patch. This one was about eight or ten feet across, and once again there was nothing to indicate it was there except for the needles.

  "Good work," Kayan said.

  "Thanks," he said, pleased with himself.

  "We are making progress of a sort," said Kayan. "Now if we can just find that oasis the chief told us about, we might actually survive this little outing."

  * * *

  They stopped for the night another mile or so farther west. It was getting truly cold now, and they were both so tired they could barely walk. The elves had not given them sleeping mats, so they simply picked a patch of sand that didn't have anything growing on it-that was getting easier and easier the farther west they went-and settled down under the bright moon and stars to sleep.

  After fifteen minutes or so, however, Kayan mindsent, This is ridiculous. Are we ever going to act like bondmates, or are we going to spend the whole night shivering a foot away from each other?

  Jedra gulped, suddenly warm again. I-I didn't want to-I mean, I do want to, but I was afraid you might-Afraid I might what, bite? Jedra, I'm cold. You're cold. Snuggle up behind me and put your arm around me.

  He moved closer to her, but then couldn't decide where to put his hands. Even wrapped in her robe, she was warm and soft everywhere he touched her. He finally settled for letting her use his left arm for a pillow and holding his right hand against her stomach. She laughed gently and said. There, that's not so bad, is it?

  That's-that's wonderful, he said. Warmer, too. He tried to slow his breathing again and fall asleep, but he was too conscious of Kayan in his arms.

  After a couple more minutes, Kayan said, You're tight as a bowstring. Relax.

  I'd like to, he said, but I've never done this before.

  Just what is it you think we're doing?

  Sleeping, Jedra said quickly. I've never slept with a woman in my arms before.

  She turned her head back so she could look at him out of her right eye. You're kidding. Never?

  Embarrassed, and a little put out at her incredulous tone, Jedra said, I remember sharing a cot with my mother when I was very young, but she died when I was six.

  Oh, said Kayan. She looked away again. A moment later she said, Then I guess it goes without saying that you 've never...

  No.

  Oh, she said again. Well, it's a little cold for that tonight, and it's already been a busy day. Much as I'd like to show you what you've been missing, I think we'd be better off getting our sleep tonight.

  That's what I thought we were trying to do, Jedra said.

  Kayan giggled softly. So we were. She turned her head back toward him again, farther than the first time, and before Jedra quite realized what was happening she had kissed him.

  Her lips were soft and warm against his, warmer even than her skin beneath his hands. The kiss was over almost before he could respond, but the memory of it lingered even after she turned back around and settled her head down on his arm again.

  Good night, she sent.

  Yes, it is, he replied automatically.

  * * *

  The moon was halfway across the sky when Jedra woke. He belatedly realized that one of them should have stayed up to keep watch, but with that thought came the equally strong realization that neither of them could have managed it if they'd wanted to. He had fallen asleep with Kayan in his arms; if he could do that, then nothing could have kept him awake.

  He supposed he should at least scout around now. If he was careful, he wouldn't even have to disturb Kayan to do it. He focused his awareness inward, reaching for the center of his psionic power, the one that allowed him to tell if someone was watching him. When he suddenly felt a heightened sense of awareness, a tingling at the back of his neck, he knew he had it, so he imagined himself rising upward, looking down upon himself and Kayan. They were swirls of light against the starlit sand, softly glowing like the green luminescence of the nocturnal moths that sometimes flitted about the eaves of buildings in the city at night. Jedra rose up until he could see a couple of miles in every direction, but no other lights broke the darkness. If anything was out there, it wasn't interested in them.

  But as long as he was looking...

  Careful to remember the way back this time, he moved farther west, searching for the oasis. There would almost certainly be something alive there, something he could sense, and that way he could learn how much farther they had to walk.

  It should have worked. Jedra went for miles, until his power began to stretch thin and the psionic vision grew dim, but he found no oasis, nor even the long, rocky ridge that the elf chief had said it was near. Only more desert. He searched north and south a few miles in either direction, but still encountered nothing.

  Maybe he was doing it wrong. He hadn't found Sahalik by searching psionically, either. Jedra brought his point of view back to the two swirls of light on the sand and let it sink back into his body. When he opened his eyes he saw the stars overhead, their constellations advanced well into morning, and when he shifted his arms he felt Kayan stir slightly within his embrace. He hated to wake her, but they should get up and walk again before it got too hot. The trouble was, where should they go?

  Kayan couldn't find the oasis either, but that wasn't so surprising, since sensing things at a distance wasn't one of her strong points.

  "I think we should link up again and try it together," Jedra said after she had tried it on her own. They were sitting on the sand with their knapsacks open before them, sharing another honeycake for breakfast. "We need to know where we're headed, or we'll get lost out here."

  "If we can't find the oasis, we're already lost," Kayan pointed out. "But you're right. It just seems like every time we rest up, the first thing we do is tire ourselves out again."

  "We can make it fast," Jedra said. "Together, we should be able to find it in no time."<
br />
  "We hope." Kayan shrugged, then held out her hand. "All right, let's try it."

  They had not needed to touch in order to join their minds before, but Jedra took her hand in his anyway. "Ready?" he asked.

  "Let's do it."

  They merged. Once again all their worldly cares dropped away in the birth of a single being. Their simple kiss a few hours ago seemed insignificant compared to the communion they now shared. All the same, now that they were one, each realized what that kiss had meant to the other at the time, and that realization-plus the physical contact they made now-enhanced their bond well beyond their previous experience. Where before they had vibrated with power, now they sang.

  To the oasis! they cried, arrowing westward in the form of a huge roc, an eaglelike bird of prey with a wingspan of nearly a hundred feet. This was the most detailed and realistic of their psionic visions yet; the desert below them undulated with regular waves of dunes, like ripples in a water cask, and the stars overhead were crisp points of light. The few animals inhabiting the sandy wastes glowed softly with auras of green or blue light, but their shapes were readily discernible even from Jedra and Kayan's great height. There were a few wild kanks, possibly escapees from elf tribes, an insect colony of some sort in a cluster of five-foot domes, and a few other animals that they didn't recognize. They remembered the locations of every creature they saw so they could steer clear of them just in case they proved hostile.

  The oasis, however, wasn't obvious. After a few minutes of flying-many miles under the roc's immense wings-they realized it simply wasn't there.

  They hadn't drifted that far off course during their hikes the previous day. There could be only one explanation, and they voiced it instantly: The elf chief lied. He had waited until Galar was out of earshot to give them directions to the oasis, and then he had sent them off to their deaths.

  The roc screeched in anger. We should go back and teach him a lesson, they decided, and the great bird whirled around to fly east, but they immediately thought, No, we can't waste our strength on simple revenge. We need to find a safe haven, and soon.

 

‹ Prev