I always thought you could judge a relationship either sideways or vertically. You either knew someone well because you’d been moving along on the timeline with them forever, or because you’d been in such deep shit with them you got blasted with who they were. With Ruck, it was both.
The normal over-the-top tenor of his voice dropped to a soft whisper. “Don’t you ever get tired of being hungry?”
He looked at me, and I saw the young boy I’d met over a decade ago, the one who’d still tear up when he talked about his lost family.
My voice dropped to match his. “There’s things a lot worse than being hungry and cold.”
“How about death? Where’s that rank for you?”
“We won’t die.”
Ruck walked over to a dry patch of wall and slouched against it, shaggy hair falling over his left eye. “I heard there was another raid down the coast at that little upstart. Word is, they were looking for Wyrd Blood.”
“I know. I heard, too.” Actually, we’d heard at the same time, but he knew that. He was reminding me of something I already couldn’t beat out of my head. I found my own patch of wall to lean on. At least I knew what we were discussing now, and it wasn’t the hole in the ceiling.
“We’re weak like this. Too weak. If we grew…”
If we grew, he thought he could help me if they found me. He couldn’t. No one could. There were too many of them. One lord died and another swooped in to fill the vacuum, usually worse than the one before him.
“I’m not going to get caught.”
“You aren’t on your game right now, and don’t tell me I’m wrong. I know you.”
“I’m fine.” I took a step toward the door, looking to end this conversation any way I had to.
“That’s it? We do what we’ve been doing and hope your luck holds?” Ruck said behind me.
“Yes. That’s what we do, because it’s the only sane option.”
I heard someone running up the steps toward us. It was only one set of footsteps, so I knew it wasn’t a raid.
Sinsy burst into the room seconds later. “A chugger’s been spotted!” She bent forward, resting her hands on her legs, her breathing rough.
A chugger. The countries had started trading again. I looked at the hollyhoney and then to Ruck, who was doing the same thing and smiling.
“How far? Which lookout spotted it?” My hand went to my waist, my fingers finding comfort on the hilt. We didn’t often get this much warning.
“The Greenies.”
The Greenies crew were a good twenty miles out, and another small outfit like us. It gave us a good lead, and the tip was well worth the fifteen percent cut of the goods we’d hand over to them.
“How quickly did you catch the signal?” I asked as we all moved in unison. I had to get my bow.
“We caught it quick and replied. Unless they had someone watching, we should be good.”
Replying quickly was key. The Greenies didn’t like to do their own dirty work, and would signal other crews until they got one that responded. Even though the flash of lights they sent were coded for each crew, other crews had been known to scour the area after they saw a signal not meant for them. If they lucked out and looked in the right direction, it meant we might have company when we hijacked a chugger. It had happened enough times in the past.
“Gather the gang. We leave in five.” We had the location. Now it all came down to time. We had to get there first.
Chapter 5
The soft sputtering of a chugger broke the silence of the evening. The chuggers had one purpose: transport goods from one country to another. It had taken twenty years after the worst of the war before any of the countries had started to trade, and it could stop at any moment.
I squinted as I watched the mechanical monster heading toward us. The large black wheels were the first to show as it traveled through the light covering of snow. The hustler’s moon above lit the landscape with its full shine, making it look much more majestic than it felt as the harsh reality of the wind burned the exposed skin of my cheeks. It had taken so long for the chugger to show that I’d begun to doubt the information we’d gotten.
Ruck and I were kneeling behind some brush on a small hill. Marra, Sinsy, and Fetch were stationed on the other side, so if things went south, we had a better chance of some of us surviving. Tiger had pulled the short stick and gotten stuck watching the home front.
Ruck turned his attention away from the road and to me. “The chugger’s coming.”
“I, too, have eyes,” I said, stealing his thunder with my statement of the obvious.
“If we don’t get this one, there might not be another for a while.”
Okay, maybe I hadn’t stolen his thunder. He was right, though, not that I wanted to hear it. The first chuggers of the season were always packed to the gills. After that, you never knew what would be passing through to where or when. It all boiled down to the fact I had to get this chugger.
I grabbed the bow that was strapped to my back, getting in position, as the chugger became louder. I wasn’t the best shot of our group, but when it counted, I was typically the one who came through. These shots were nearly impossible. You had to hit the inside of the tire as it was passing through. My guess was that some of my magic was at work. I just didn’t know how.
“You sure you can do it?” Ruck asked.
“I always do it.”
Ruck wasn’t calling me a liar out loud, but the fidgeting hands and shifting eyes didn’t inspire confidence.
I pulled the arrow back, timing the movement of the chugger and calculating the breeze. My hands were weak, but that didn’t matter. I’d make the shot.
Calming my breathing, I waited. I couldn’t mess this up. If there was something wrong with me, the chugger heading our way would feed them for a month, maybe two. Between this and the hollyhoney, it would buy them time to reorganize.
I pulled my arm back, aiming for the inside of a tire, where they were thinner. The chugger passed a tree as I let the arrow fly.
It went right past and into a nearby tree.
I’d missed. I never missed. I reloaded my bow quickly even as the shock was still hitting. I released it, and it was even farther off target. I caught sight of a few arrows flying from the other side of the trail, knowing it was Marra. All misses.
The chugger was passing us. We’d never know if the driver knew he was getting shot at, since he didn’t stop. I sat there, stunned by my failure, as the chugger grew smaller.
Ruck and I were the last to enter the house, my feet feeling like they were weighted down with rocks as we’d made our way back. We’d walked in silence, and not because they were angry with me but because I was furious with myself.
I’d missed the chugger. I never missed that shot. Whatever sickness was spreading through me was draining my magic now.
Marra came over to me, taking my smaller frame into her embrace and telling me without words how she felt.
I pulled back and nodded, but had a hard time holding her gaze. I didn’t want compassion. I’d screwed up, royally, and the looks of concern on their faces made me feel that much worse.
“We’ll hear of another chugger soon. We’ll get more supplies and we’ve got all that hollyhoney.” Sinsy said it to no one in particular, but she darted looks my way. Her mop of dark curls bounced all over the place as she tried to add enthusiasm to her statement.
Tiger, with his tawny hair sticking out every which way, added, “The countries might like to fight, but they still have to trade. The weather is breaking. They’ll be coming through again.”
And what was going to happen to them when I wasn’t here anymore? When the hollyhoney ran out and no one could stop the chugger? If they didn’t stop trying to make me feel better, I was going to hang myself.
I walked over to the corner and retrieved the hollyhoney from the corner. They’d be too busy trying to hold it down and wouldn’t be able to try and cheer me up.
“Spoons,”
I said.
As good as they were, a groan still slipped out. I thought it might’ve been Fetch, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t looking forward to it either, so no judgment.
I pulled off the lid and held the jar of hollyhoney out in the center of us, each with our spoons in hand.
Fetch, who got his nickname because he was forever tossing something around in his hands, be it a stone or stick, flipped his spoon. “It was so close.”
Sinsy shrugged, appearing way more resigned than the rest of us to eating the hollyhoney.
Ruck elbowed Fetch before saying, “I’ll go first.” He dipped his spoon in.
“Let’s load up and do it together.” I scooped my spoon in next. “At least our stomachs won’t be growling afterward.”
“Yeah, I mean, it’ll stop the growling,” Sinsy said.
Marra patted her back in encouragement.
One by one, everyone dipped their spoon in.
“Who wants to do the toast?” I asked. You couldn’t eat hollyhoney without the toast. It was known as very bad luck.
Ruck held his spoon up. “Here’s hoping it’s a decent batch. If our luck is true, it’ll stay down the hatch.”
Everyone raised their spoons and then sucked the bitter brew down, which took some work. This stuff clung worse than tar to bark. But no matter how foul the taste, you didn’t waste hollyhoney.
All eyes turned to Tiger.
As expected, Tiger threw a hand over his mouth, his eyes watering. It was a close battle, but after a few precarious seconds, he seemed to win. Tiger had only been in the Ruined City for about a year and had yet to acclimate himself to the taste. No one else was going back for seconds anytime soon, but most of us had roughed it on hollyhoney before. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was an acquired taste, but you were prepared for battle, so to speak.
We all stood around, giving it a few more minutes to settle. There was a short window after a dose of hollyhoney when it still could go violently bad.
As they worried about throwing up, though, I was staring at the jar and doing the math. There was enough hollyhoney to keep everybody going for about three weeks. Then we’d be back to slow starvation. There wouldn’t be anything worth picking off the trees for a good two months from now, and it would be a war for resources with every other starving person in the Ruined City. The dragon claw had been a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and there was no depending on another. Time was going to run out.
I waited until everyone found their beds that night before I caught Ruck alone in his room, where he was settling in for the night. He sat up, knowing I needed to talk. “Are you still worried about missing that chugger?”
“No,” I said, sitting cross-legged in from of him. Of course I was still thinking about how bad I’d botched it with the chugger. But I was moving on to bigger and better things to dwell on. “You know how you always want to make big moves?”
He smiled. I didn’t even tell the lunatic what the move was and he was smiling. How was he even alive?
He sat up straighter. “What are you thinking?”
Was I crazy? No. I was desperate. There weren’t any other choices. Although was there that much difference between crazy and desperate? “I want to rob a country.”
“I’m in.” The words shot out of him like a bullet.
I inched back. “Don’t you want to hear the plan first?”
He took a second to think that over. “Of course I need to hear the plan, but I’m in no matter how stupid it is.” He smiled, letting me know he didn’t actually think it would be stupid.
“Okay, here’s the deal…”
Chapter 6
It was the middle of the night as I approached the Valley, Ryker’s country, alone. That had been the deal with Ruck. I did the surveillance and chose which country we were going to rob. He’d agreed because it was the only way he’d get to rob a country.
There were only two countries close enough to get to on foot within a couple of days’ walk, the Valley and Dorley, the Ruined City lying in between the two.
The benefit of robbing the Valley was the place didn’t even have a wall. Before I’d headed out, I’d figured we’d hit Dorley for sure. When I got there, it was to find their wall had grown a few feet since the last time I’d gotten close enough to see it. The Valley still didn’t have one. I guessed you didn’t need a wall when you were Ryker.
I made my way closer, but stayed a good fifty feet shy of the nearest building. Most of the camp would be sleeping at this hour, but even Ryker would have a lookout set up. I tossed my sack to the ground and found a good climbing tree, a nice old oak, which would let me get high enough to see the layout.
A branch scratched my cheek and I lost some hair as I made my way up to the highest limb that was solid enough to hold my weight.
The place was enormous. It was still a far cry from the countries of old, but all the new countries were smaller. It had a watchtower nearby, but it wasn’t manned. These people were really slacking. There were three other towers, but none of them would be close enough to spot me in this tree in the middle of the night.
Now, which building would be holding their supplies?
“You can come down that tree now. Unless you want us to burn it down,” a male said from below.
I froze. Maybe they weren’t talking to me? Maybe there was someone else up a tree in the middle of the night? It could happen. The odds weren’t in my favor, though. Now what?
“You’ve got five seconds.”
I looked down and saw two shadows beneath me. For large men, they were sneakily quiet. How had I not heard them? Even now, the shifting of their feet was loud.
I saw one raise a finger, and a flame shot out of it. It wasn’t directed toward the tree, but it could be. Would they risk a fire this close to their home? The one guy was obviously Wyrd Blood, so he might be able to put it out.
The flame grew larger as I watched. Suggestion taken, I started shimmying down the tree.
I maneuvered myself so I’d be on the far side from them, and once I had only a ten-foot drop left, I jumped. I hit the ground hard and then ran.
A hand clamped around my arm within seconds, and I shot a zap to the area. It was enough to make whichever one had grabbed me let go as he cursed. I might’ve made it if they hadn’t gotten a grip on my hair. I knew I should’ve chopped it off. I spun to reach out and zap the one who had caught me, but he quickly readjusted his grip. His hand stretched out above my head, his reach much greater than mine.
My fingers went to my hip, grabbing the knife that hung there.
“I wouldn’t do that.” The tension on my hair increased until I was nearly on tiptoes. I released the knife and my heels found the ground again. Unless I wanted to get scalped, I couldn’t do much more than stand there.
They were both Wyrd Blood, but neither were strong enough to rile my magic. The one who’d lit the fire from his finger stepped closer. He had a trim build, but not the lankiness you normally saw. This was someone who was naturally lean, as opposed to malnourished. Light brown hair brushed his shoulders as he looked me over.
“What do you think, Burn?” the man holding my hair asked.
Burn leaned down, his eyes the color of warm whiskey, and I could feel the magic on him. I could feel the magic on them both. Why couldn’t this have been one of those times that magic meeting magic didn’t work out so well?
“My guess? She’s pretty strong, even if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
They had to insult me now too? Wasn’t my impending death or slavery enough? Fuck ’em. I was as good as dead now. No point in holding back. “Thanks, Burn. Great name. Very original.”
My barb didn’t even seem to prick his skin, as I felt his magic poking. It was the rudest thing you could do to another Wyrd Blood.
“Do you mind?” I asked. Luckily, it was an annoyance, since neither he, nor the guy holding me by my hair, had enough magic to make it truly uncomfortable.
“You think she�
��s the one Ryker’s been looking for?”
“Yeah, Sneak, I do.”
Sneak. If my head wasn’t stuck in one position, I would’ve shaken it. “Let me guess, you’re good at sneaking up on people?”
I couldn’t see Sneak’s face, but I heard the laugh. It seemed as if catching me had made their night.
After his laugh settled down, he said, “Are you going to walk back nice or am I going to be getting an arm cramp?”
“Wouldn’t want you to have to strain yourself.”
His hand dropped, along with the tension on my scalp. Sneak moved forward, walking ahead of me, Burn waiting for me to follow him so he could fall in behind. Just to screw with me, the sounds of our footsteps seemed to disappear on and off as we went.
I’d always imagined going down in dragon fire, with Ruck by my side. Not walking toward my end, already defeated because I’d gotten into a hair-pulling fight. This was pathetic.
They’d shoved me in a stone room with one door and no windows, but at least they’d left me my sack. They hadn’t even checked it. Not that I had anything that was going to help me much, just enough hollyhoney to keep me going for a little over a week. My knife was still on my hip, too. I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or insulted.
I didn’t know how long they’d leave me here, but I knew who I was waiting for.
I’d never met Ryker, but everyone in our parts had heard of him. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that people far across the land had, too. The one thing they said the most was that he was one of the strongest Wyrd Blood around.
Rumors, so often wrong, were correct this time. The wave of magic approaching was so potent that it stole the breath from my lungs. It hadn’t been an exaggeration. He was as strong as they’d said. My throat tightened as the possibility that I wouldn’t make it out of this room became the only thought I had. His magic might kill me. In the past, the threat had always been to others, not me. I’d always had more magic than them. No harm had been intended, but you never know how magic would interact.
Wyrd Blood Page 3