“You sound troubled,” said Dryleaf, frowning.
“We were both fighters, once. We served in a few mercenary companies, spending many years with the Ruby Crowns in particular. But we left that life behind a long time ago. Now I have been unable to rid myself of the feeling that I dragged Mag back into a world that she was much happier to have left behind.”
“Yet you seem to be more reluctant, at least when it comes to this hunt,” said Dryleaf.
“True,” I said quietly. “I suppose I have less to avenge.”
“Vengeance is a shadowed road with a mournful end, whether you are victor or victim,” intoned Dryleaf.
“I have not heard that wisdom. I cannot say that I like it, but it has the ring of truth.”
Dryleaf gave a grim smile. Then he cocked his head. “You say you served with the Ruby Crowns. I used to travel, as I told you, and I heard many tales of that company. Would I have heard of your exploits?”
“Mine?” I said. “I doubt it. But Mag is another matter. Did anyone ever tell you of the Uncut Lady?”
The effect was immediate. Dryleaf straightened at once and gave a little gasp. “The Uncut Lady? You cannot mean that she is your friend, just across the room right this very minute.”
“I do,” I said, grinning.
“To think that I have been speaking with her, and never realized,” said Dryleaf. “Her voice is far more beautiful than I had imagined it would be.”
“Do not tell her that, I beg you. She thinks highly enough of herself as it is.”
Dryleaf giggled. “If half the tales of her are true, she deserves to think so. I must shake her hand.”
I shook my head and laughed. “Sky above. The last thing Mag’s ego needs is an admirer like you.”
Dryleaf smiled in reply. The deep lines around his eyes crinkled when he did it, and his bushy beard jumped. But the smile faded almost as quickly as it had come.
“The two of you will take care of yourselves out there, yes?”
“We will,” I told him. “As much as I can ‘take care’ of her.”
“Do not undervalue yourself too much,” said Dryleaf. “I am a fair judge of people, and that is just as easy to do when you cannot see them. I would say that the love and the companionship you give to Mag are worth more than a thousand swords at her side. From what I know of her, in any case, she has never needed help when it comes to fighting.”
I studied him a long moment. “I will try to remember it. Thank you.”
Mag returned with a mug of ale. It was half-empty already. “We should be off. I have told the barman to ready the horses for us. Dryleaf, you have our eternal thanks for your counsel. It is a pleasure to encounter such a wise and helpful mind this far from home.”
Dryleaf’s mouth opened, and a thin squeak came out. Mag frowned. I seized her arm and hurried her away from the table.
“Sky above, let us get on the road before he musters the strength to speak.”
THE HORSES WERE BEING LED out of the stable when we walked outside, and we rode out at once. The main road led north out of the town and continued that way for some leagues before turning west in the direction of Bertram. But we abandoned that direction quickly, turning upon a smaller side road that led to the farms and homesteads across the land that led up to the western spur.
Just as Dryleaf had said, the barman had been able to tell us where to find what we were looking for. There were many homesteads and farms this way, but they became fewer and farther between as one drew away from Lan Shui. At first we rode through farmlands just like the ones we had seen when we first came to the town, and just as then, many of the farms looked abandoned. But soon the land was all wild, open countryside, with no one around. Trees began to grow thicker about us, until soon we were riding through a small wood, through which we could occasionally still glimpse the rising spur of land ahead.
Finally the ground began to climb, and the trees thinned again. We crested a slope and, as if it had sprung out of the ground to meet us, we came upon the homestead we had been searching for.
At the center of it was a house, and a little farther off, a barn stood at the bottom of a steep slope. Some crops had been grown on the lands surrounding the house, but weeds had begun to spring up among them unchecked.
Mayhap thirty paces from the house were the blackened remains of a funeral pyre.
We burned them, of course, the barman had told us. It was the only … well, the only proper thing to do. But their child was—well, they had two, and we found the elder with his parents. The younger son … well, we never found his body.
We paused at the sight, surveying the cleared land for a moment. Mag studied the pyre with a dour look on her face, and I wondered if she was thinking of Sten. After a time, she nudged her horse again.
“Come,” she said. “The day is young, and there is hunting yet to do.”
She led me to the house, and we took a brief look inside. If the cold pyre had cast a shadow over our mood, the house plunged our souls into darkness. Though the people of Lan Shui had removed and burned the bodies, they had done nothing further to clean the place. Pieces of smashed furniture lay strewn about, and blood stained the floors and even some of the walls.
“They had a back door,” I said, pointing to it. “I wonder why they did not try to escape.”
“It must have attacked too quickly,” said Mag.
We left the place. It was clear that there was nothing inside to help us in our hunt, and I had no desire to remain there a moment longer than I had to. In the clearing outside, we spent a moment gathering ourselves. Mag’s expression had soured still further, and I worried that she might do something rash. Not that I knew what that might be—we had no idea where the vampire had gone, nor, indeed, where to start looking.
“Let us explore the wilderness,” I told her. “If I had to guess, I would say it came from the west. That is where the land rises again, and where there are most likely to be caves.”
“As you say,” said Mag.
She swung into her saddle at once, and I followed her a moment after. We guided our horses towards the wilderness out in back of the house. But as we drew within ten paces of the trees, I heard a sharp rustling in the underbrush.
“Hist!” I whispered.
We leaped down from our saddles again. Quick as blinking, I had my bow up and an arrow nocked, and Mag held her spear ready to strike. We approached the woods one step at a time. Behind us, the horses nickered nervously.
“Remember, they said it was fast,” whispered Mag.
“It is not the vampire,” I said. “The sun is up.”
Mag frowned. “What, then?”
I said nothing, for I had no answer.
And then, from the shadows between the trees, a creature leaped forwards. I almost loosed my arrow but stopped myself just in time. My mind had seen a wolf, but in the space of a heartbeat I saw that it was only a dog. Granted, it was a large beast—a wolfhound of a kind common in Dorsea. Its fur was mottled brown with black spots. The hound growled at us, hackles rising.
“Mayhap it belonged to the family,” said Mag.
“That was my thought,” I said.
I could not help a small measure of disapproval as I looked at the beast. It must have run off into the woods when the vampire came. I knew it was only a beast, but in my homeland, we trained hounds to be loyal to their masters.
And then I caught another movement in the woods.
“Wait …”
A small, pallid figure peeked out from behind a trunk. As soon as it saw me looking, it vanished again.
My eyes widened.
“The child,” I breathed.
I loosened my draw and stowed my arrow. Mag quickly put up her spear and knelt, extending a hand. The hound calmed down at once, its growls ceasing. But it did not relax its stance, nor move from its position between us and the boy.
“Hello,” called out Mag. “We are here to help. We came from Lan Shui.”
The boy poked his head out from behind the tree again. My heart ached to see the stark terror in his wide eyes. His hair was disheveled and matted with days’ worth of dirt and grime from the woods, and his clothes, though sturdy-looking, were almost black with filth.
“Hello,” Mag said again. “Will you come out? We will not hurt you. I swear it.”
Slowly, achingly slowly, the boy took a step out from behind the tree. The hound at last relaxed its stance, straightening and turning to trot by the boy’s side. He seemed to draw strength from its presence, for he walked forwards a bit more confidently, though he still kept a good distance away from us.
“You are from town?” he said. His words cracked, the sound of a voice that had not been used for days. “I do not know you.”
“We are travelers,” said Mag. “When we passed through Lan Shui, they told us what had happened here.”
His pale face whitened further. The dog whined.
“But we do not have to speak of it,” said Mag quickly. “We only want to help you. Can we take you back to town?”
“I do not know you,” the boy repeated.
“As she said, we are not from Lan Shui,” I told him. “But Mag speaks the truth. We mean you no harm.”
The boy said nothing, but only tightened his grip on the hound’s fur. Mag went from kneeling to sitting, and drew back her hand.
“What is your name?” she said.
The boy’s nose twitched. “I am Liu,” he said softly.
“Liu,” said Mag. “Some others came before us. Did you not see them?”
“When?” said Liu.
Mag looked up at me, and I answered. “Mayhap three days ago.”
“I was in the woods,” said Liu. “Oku and I hid there. We hid as far away as we could. I was afraid to come back until yesterday.”
“His name is Oku?” said Mag, pointing to the hound. Its tail wagged once and then stopped. The hound tossed its head, as if it had realized what it had done and was slightly embarrassed.
“Yes,” said Liu. “He went with me when I … when I ran.”
Tears welled up in his eyes, and his lip trembled. I felt my chest grow tight.
“That was very smart and brave of you,” said Mag, her voice thick.
“Mama told me to,” whispered Liu.
“And you were very wise to listen to her,” said Mag.
“She died,” said Liu, his tears beginning to leak down his cheeks. “And Papa, and Qinsha. Did they not?”
Qinsha must have been his older brother. I looked at Mag helplessly, but she never took her eyes off Liu.
“Oku went with you,” she said. “He seems like a very good dog.”
Liu did not notice that she had avoided his question. Oku’s tail wagged again, twice this time, and he padded slowly towards Mag. He sniffed tentatively at her feet before submitting to a gentle pat between the ears.
“He likes you,” said Liu.
“I am glad,” said Mag.
Liu took his first step forwards since emerging from the forest. Another long pause. Another small step.
“Are those your horses?” he said at last.
“Yes,” said Mag. “But the brown one is an idiot. He is so stupid, my friend named him Foolhoof.”
Liu giggled. It sounded as if the noise had been pulled from him against his will. “What about the grey one?”
“Her name is Mist. She is much smarter, and she loves children. Would you like to meet her?”
Liu gave a tentative nod, and Mag rose at last to her feet. I feared Oku would be startled by her movement, but the hound accepted it easily enough. It trotted behind her as she went to Liu and reached out. The boy took her hand and let her lead him to the horses, who had begun to drift off. I noticed that Oku seemed to be limping a bit as he walked by Mag’s side.
“Here, boy,” I said, walking over to him. Oku paused and looked up at me, his wide eyes glistening. I knelt by his side and extended a hand, slowly, towards his left rear leg. Oku tensed, but I kept my movements slow, and he let me take the leg. Part of the fur was matted, and probing it gently with my fingers, I felt a light cut.
“He has been hurt,” I said, looking up at Liu.
“The monster did that,” said the boy. “Oku tried to fight it, but it hurt him.”
“I have some things in my saddlebag for that,” I said, rising and going to Foolhoof. The gelding looked at me suspiciously, but he stood still as I opened a saddlebag. From it I drew some dried yarrow, crushing it in my fist and mixing it with some water from my skin. I returned to Oku and spread it on the cut. The wolfhound submitted to my ministrations, though he whined about it.
“Do not hurt him,” said Liu, frowning.
“It stings a bit, but it will help the wound heal,” I said.
“Liu,” said Mag. “Did you see anything after you ran into the woods? We want to make sure no one else gets hurt.”
The boy went silent for a long moment and avoided our gazes. But finally he nodded. “I saw the monster afterwards. It came from that direction, and it left the same way.” He pointed towards the trees in a northwesterly direction.
I went that way, leaving Foolhoof behind me. Sure enough, right where Liu had pointed, there were tracks on the ground. They were not human, that I knew. Each step had torn deep gouges in the dirt, and I thought of the clawed limbs that vampires were said to have. It also seemed to run on all fours.
“I have it,” I told Mag. “It will be an easy trail to follow.”
“Thank the sky,” she said. “Let us get them back to town quickly. We should be able to return with plenty of time to follow it before night comes.”
Mag hoisted Liu up into the saddle before her. The boy seemed delighted to be riding atop a horse. I would have wagered that he had never been on one before. Oku ran by our side, and despite the wound in his leg, he kept pace with our horses’ trotting easily enough.
We rode away from the homestead, careful to keep Liu on the northern side of the clearing, where he would not see the pyre upon which his parents’ and brother’s corpses had been burned.
ALBERN DREW HIS HORSE TO a halt. Sun walked another few paces before she realized the old man had stopped, and she hastily returned to him.
“What?” said Sun. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” said Albern. “We have arrived.”
Sun, who had become lost in the story again, blinked hard and looked around. They stood in a clearing in the woods, a good distance southwest of the town. She had a vague memory of Albern leading her off the main road and down the side path that took them here, but she had hardly noticed at the time. Above them was a rise in the land, and not far away was a cave with a deep, black mouth. It seemed somehow to loom over them in the night. Moonslight let her see only a few paces within the entrance.
“Would you help me start a fire?” said Albern amiably after dismounting. “I can manage it, but it is somewhat harder.”
“Of course,” said Sun. “Do you have flint?”
“Naturally,” said Albern, pulling it from a pouch at his belt. As Sun collected dry leaves and twigs for kindling, Albern went to the trees and pulled down a few small branches to get the fire going. But when he had returned with those, he went to a small hollow nearby and retrieved some larger logs that looked to have been cut with an axe.
“Those were here already,” said Sun. “You have been here before.”
“I have,” said Albern. “Just today. I told you I planned to come here tonight.”
With Sun’s help, he laid the logs in a crossing pattern. When it was done, Sun took a knife from her boot and struck flint to it, sending sparks across the leaves. They caught easily, and in no time a merry fire burned before them.
“How did the boy survive?” said Sun as Albern worked.
“It was only a few days.”
“A few days without food is long enough to be perilous for one so young,” she said. “A few days without water will kill anyone.”
> “There was a stream in the woods that his family would drink from, and he went there on occasion,” said Albern. “I think it is likely he collected some roots and berries, too, for his parents would have told him if any were safe to eat. But more than that, do not underestimate the will to live. Even in a child, it can be strong enough to pull us through times of great peril. You would not enjoy a few days without food or water, but I imagine you would survive them.”
Sun found a nearby branch to use as a poker, and then she settled herself on the ground next to Albern, staring into the flames. It was a little while before the old man looked at her, his eyes alight with interest.
“You seem to be deep in thought,” he said. “If it is no imposition, may I ask what you are thinking about?”
Sun looked at him like one just waking up. “Hm? Oh, it is no great matter. Only, I do not quite understand what a vampire is. I have heard the name, but never a proper tale of them.”
“Ah,” said Albern. “A fair question indeed. Vampires were rare in those days, and they are more so now. But there is not much to tell beyond what I have already said. They subsist on blood. Though they will gnaw on corpseflesh, they seem to do so only to drain as much blood as possible. No hair grows upon their bodies. Their ears are pointed like an Elf’s—though of course they are in all other ways entirely different from those terrible beings—and they walk sometimes hunched on two legs, sometimes on all four. They can leap several paces from a standstill, and their claws are sharp enough to sink into wood and most stone, meaning that walls are no proof against them.”
Sun shuddered. “How horrible.”
Albern nodded. “Yes. They are quite terrifying, especially if one does not know how to defeat them—which I did not, before Dryleaf told me.”
“A good thing that he was there,” said Sun. “You were most fortunate.”
“Was I?” said Albern, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I have already told you my views on fortune and luck. But if I may, as an aside—would you hold my bow?”
The question was so unexpected that Sun stared at him for a moment, blinking. “I … yes,” she said at last. “But why?”
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