by Ashley Capes
Never couldn’t even blink.
“Never?” Luis gripped his shoulder and shook, confusion clouding his eyes.
Footsteps thumped over and Elina appeared, concern on her face. She paused upon seeing him. “He’s paralysed. Carry him back.”
Never grunted – or tried to – when they hauled him by shoulders and knees, returning to camp in a swaying walk, then placed him within reach of the firelight. An odd mix of black sky and a strip of orange fire filled his field of vision.
“What happened?” Elina asked. She leant in to check the wound on Never’s neck, eyes searching. She looked over her shoulder.
Luis sighed. “They just attacked. No warning.”
“We’ll fix this, Never,” she said, meeting his eyes.
Then she moved away. The ruffle of clothing carried over the busy fire, followed by the jingle of coins hitting a palm. “They’ve been paid well enough. Hanik coin.”
Never blinked.
A blink?
His forefinger twitched. Somewhere beneath the locked muscles, his blood was surging again – growing hot. It continued to rush around his limbs, more heat, and a trickle of sweat ran down from his temple. Even the memories of the fever weren’t enough to discourage him. Another finger twitched.
He moved his jaw.
Then clenched a fist and a groan escaped as the paralysis was burnt away and his limbs collapsed. His arms and legs tingled as he sat up, rubbing his face. “I can feel my nose, isn’t that a relief?”
Luis laughed. “If you say so. Are you well?”
“I think so.” He stood slowly, then stamped a foot until the tingling disappeared.
“Look at this.” Elina handed him a dart by the feather. A sharp point stained with a pinch of blood, something sticky running down the tiny shaft.
“What is it?”
“It’s resin, mixed with something else; I don’t know the compound. Hunters sometimes use it to slow big game. It locks the muscles.”
“Sounds right to me.”
Luis frowned. “So who’s hunting you?”
“Good question.” Elina said. “Because the attack was obviously about you, Never. Luis wasn’t attacked with any dart. Nor me. They wanted you.”
He tucked the dart into an inner pocket. “Indeed. Let’s post a watch then – but let me go first. It’ll give me time to think about who might be interested in taking me.”
But no answers came after the meal of cold meat, now that they’d doused the fire.
He circled their small camp, listening for trouble but none came. And with it, no answers either. Harstas was finished. None of his Steelhawks looked to have survived the Bakar and anyone else who was displeased with Never... well, they’d simply kill him. No-one would bother with an attempted abduction.
Dawn offered no illumination on the matter of the attack.
The corpses told no further stories in the morning light; mostly unshaven, seemingly poor and dead. Could one have been the figure he’d glimpsed in Lonig? No way to know now. Before leaving, Never helped roll the bodies into the river, where their sightless eyes sunk into the deep green.
Once again the current pulled their boat swiftly along beneath a bright sun. Sometimes they passed lone fishermen, sometimes longer boats with father and son working together. Where the river widened, reeds grew thick and dragonflies were plentiful. Blue, red and green – even purple creatures flitted around on soundless wings.
He turned the tiller and angled the boat toward a small group of the purple ones. Did their wings have splashes of yellow to go with their vibrant bodies? At the change in direction, Elina lifted her head from where she’d been repairing a hole in her cloak.
“What are we – oh, not the purple ones, Never.”
“What?”
“They like to bite.” She jabbed her needle in the air as she spoke.
He wrenched the rudder back around and Luis gave a shout, fumbling an oar as the boat turned from the dragonflies.
“Do you need me to take over?” Luis asked.
“No, I’m fine now,” he said.
Elina stood and shaded her eyes. “There’s another boat on the river. Behind us.”
Never twisted his torso.
Distant yet, the boat seemed smaller than their own, with a single passenger. No way to know their intent from so far away, but after the half-seen figure in Lonig and the attack last night... “Let’s keep an eye on them then.”
The day wore on and the river lengthened before them, cutting through the willows and taller elms. He trailed fingertips along the surface, as seemed to be his custom of late, then flicked water at Luis. The treasure-hunter said only, “You’re lucky it’s hot, Never.”
“How’s that boat going?”
Luis squinted. “He’s gained some ground.”
“Water.”
“What?”
“He’s gained ‘water’, not ground.”
“Fine.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a fisherman looking downstream for a better catch?”
Elina paused at the oar. “Most of the fishermen we’ve passed haven’t strayed quite this far from Togan.”
“How close to the next stop?” Never asked.
“We’ll reach Long Falls by noon tomorrow,” Elina said. “From there you can head south a little ways and reach Restall. It’s one of the bigger towns; it sees a lot of trade from south of the forest and river. Our friend on the water could simply be heading there.”
“Want to find out?” Luis asked.
“What have you in mind?” Never leant forward. “Ambush?”
“Might not need to – what if we head ashore for lunch. If we stop, it won’t take too long for the fisherman to catch up. We’d get a good look then.”
Never nodded. “Unseen if we wish it.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting out of this boat for a while,” Elina admitted.
“Find us a spot, tiller-man,” Luis said.
Never scanned the banks. Grassy overhangs everywhere, with nowhere to tie off. But ahead, at a widening of the river, an outcropping of earth jutted before a bend. An ideal fishing spot by its look, but also a fair mooring.
He angled the boat toward it and left the swiftest part of the current, coming to a halt against the bank. It had a gentle slope, enough that once they had disembarked it was possible to empty the boat of supplies then pull the vessel up onto the earth to drag it between twisted trunks of the willows.
He paused on the outcrop, placing a parcel packed with salted meat aside.
Near a Y shaped stake driven into the earth, dull fish-scales littered the leaves. Yet something glittered. He knelt, flicking scales aside with a finger. Wedged in the earth, as if perhaps lost in the mud months prior, lay a large marble.
Yet it was crystal-clear, unlike a child’s coloured toy, and within lay a tiny figurine of wood. Its pose was relaxed, arms and legs spread, as if floating. Calm. Never’s breathing slowed. The sound of the others arranging the boat faded and light dimmed.
Even his heart seemed to slumber in his chest.
He blinked.
Clouds had snuck over the treetops to cover the sun, nothing more. Time flowed once again. But when the clouds passed, it seemed the figurine had tilted its round head up toward the sun.
“Never, hurry,” Luis said.
He placed the crystal in an inner pocket and collected the meat, then a barrel and a bolt of sailcloth, slipping after Luis into the treeline to crouch amongst the undergrowth. Peering through branches toward the nearest bend, he waited.
“He’s following us,” Luis said.
“We don’t know that yet,” Elina replied.
“We will soon.” Never frowned. What exactly was the crystal and its figure? It was no child’s bauble, no simple fisherman’s charm. How long had it lain bu
ried in the bank? Had the recent activity of fishermen uncovered it?
“He should have appeared by now,” Luis said.
How long had he crouched there? His calves were stiff when he shifted. His stomach rumbled.
“Hush,” Elina said, then grinned.
“If he can hear my stomach from the river I say we give up now and invite him to share a meal.” Never moved a little ways further upriver. “But I agree. Where is our mystery fisherman?”
“We watch while we eat,” Luis said.
“Tremendous idea.”
Lunch was cold, the last of the cheese and bread, which was getting a little hard for his liking – not unlike chewing through a soft stone. And then back to waiting. He performed a series of stretches and waited yet more. Luis had propped himself against a trunk and seemed to be dozing, while Elina returned to sewing her green cloak until finally standing. “That’s enough,” she said. “We can’t waste any more time.”
Luis woke. “What?”
“No-one’s following us – it’s just a fisherman.”
Never nodded. “Agreed.”
Luis brushed bark from his cloak as he stood. “I should be happy to be wrong but I can’t shake the feeling we are being followed.”
“We’ll keep watching,” Never said.
“Right.”
Once the boat was back in the water and loaded once more, Never resumed his shift at the oars and rejoined the current. Luis sat in the prow and Elina was on the tiller. Once again, the banks rolled past to the splash of the oar. Ahead, the Carene narrowed; already the pull of the increasing current drew the boat faster.
“There,” Luis said. He pointed behind them.
Never pulled up the oars and twisted.
A lone figure followed in the distance, its canoe keeping to the centre of the river.
Chapter 5.
The mysteriously-persistent fisherman followed them on and on through the many twists of the Carene and into evening, where once again, they pulled the boat ashore and concealed it within the trees.
“Deeper,” Elina said when they first paused within the treeline.
Never complied, lifting with her and waving Luis back for the supplies. Once the camp was set, fire-pit dug and pot boiling, he returned to the water’s edge and stared down the darkening length of the Carene.
A small splash from a fish off to his left but no sign of the stranger’s boat. Was he stopping at the same time, so as to remain hidden? Or, to keep pace? The stranger obviously didn’t want to catch up that badly – else he’d break out a lantern and take to the river at night. It wouldn’t have been much of a risk, the Carene, while growing swifter, hardly seemed choked with hazards like submerged logs.
“Who are you then?” he said softly.
Never withdrew the crystal marble, resting it neatly within his palm. Even in the fading light it was clear that the figure had moved again. It now reclined, arms beneath its head. He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you look comfortable?”
What was the crystal, truly? Another Amouni magic relic? If so – fortuitous that he’d stumbled across it, of all the places they might have taken to the bank.
“Never?”
Elina stood in a half-crouch behind him, bow in hand, arrow set to string. Her expression was clouded with worry. “Get down.” She glanced to the sky.
He crouched, returning the crystal to its inner pocket and drawing a blade. He followed Elina’s gaze. A shadow hovered high above the trees, its wingspan wider than any eagle. He squinted, how far from the ground was it? If it was as high as it seemed and the wings were truly that size – the span had to be near equivalent to a man measured head to toe. It was hard to be sure in the darkness.
“What is it?” he whispered. The body was broad too, though the tail was hard to discern in the darkness. Yet it had to be so much larger than even a great bird.
“I’ve never seen anything so huge.”
“At least it’s not a dragon,” he said.
“I bet its talons could still puncture your chest,” she said.
“What a cheerful image.”
The creature continued to hover a moment longer, then it wheeled without a sound, drifting beyond the trees. He straightened.
“It didn’t attack, though it surely marked us,” Elina said.
“Something else watches us then.”
“It seems so.” She dropped the arrow back into her quiver. “Let’s get out of sight.”
He followed her back to the shadow of the trees and to the small glow of their camp, two logs, three bedrolls and packs spread around the fire pit. There was a soft squeaking from beyond the light – more Baeils no doubt – and Luis was returning from deeper into the trees, arms laden with fuel for the fire. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“A huge bird-like creature was watching us,” Elina said. “Too difficult to see it clearly in the dark.”
“Just what we need,” he said, dumping the wood by the fire.
“Life would be boring without trouble.” Never sat on one of the logs. “Trouble keeps you alive, stops you taking things for granted. Makes you savour every moment, or so the Warrior Monks of Kiymako used to say.”
Luis added another branch to the fire. “If you see one again, hit him for me.”
Never grinned.
After their meal he took the first watch and sat with his back to the fire, staring into the dark until it was time to wake Elina. Uneventful – a good omen or a calm before the storm?
By dawn he knew.
Good omen.
When they returned to the river, there was no sign of giant birds or annoying fishermen. Only the deep green water stretching before him and another long bend ahead. Luis had first shift, splashing Never with his strokes.
“Watch it,” he said.
“Sorry. My shoulder is killing me,” he said. “Think I slept on it.”
“Rowing will probably warm it up,” Never replied. He turned, leaning over the rudder. The Carene was empty again – wait... he cursed under his breath. There it was, the dark shape of the small canoe and its single inhabitant. No closer, but no further either. Following.
“He’s back,” Never said.
Elina peered over Luis’ shoulder. “He doesn’t seem in a hurry to catch us, does he?”
“We could stop at the Long Falls and let him catch up?” Never asked.
“We should still reach it by noon and it’ll take the rest of the day to climb down – it’s already more time than I want to waste. If we stop for this man and he’s merely a fisherman keeping the same hours as we...” She frowned. “King Noak may not be able to afford such a delay.”
“Then we row on,” Never said.
The river gained speed and noon approached with it, bringing the muffled crash of falling water. The Carene broadened again, willows pulling away from the falls and banks evening out, lined with stone. Shelves and spikes of rock protruded from the edge of the fall, the water white as it fell; roaring, screaming-droplets churned to river-tears.
Beautiful, in a way.
But only from the safety of the shore. Hurtling over the edge it probably wouldn’t seem quite so wondrous.
Before the boat neared the falls, Elina turned the rudder and the Bleak Man’s boat headed for a pier. The foundations were stone and a small stair and ramp even led down to the water. The sun had dried the upper steps but where the river lapped the stone it lay dark.
The Hanik Royal Crest stood on the support columns, a silver tree shining in the sunlight. A bright blue dragonfly leapt from the crest, zigzagging its way across the water.
“The Long Stair sees fair traffic,” Elina said when they tied off.
He tossed his pack to the pier and it landed with a thump. “I hope the Stair is as well-maintained as this dock.”
“I
t is. The worst thing about it is the heavy lifting.”
“Two of us can carry the boat, right?” Luis asked. “Once it’s empty.”
“We’ll take shifts,” Elina said. “Whoever isn’t carrying will look after whatever supplies we keep.”
“Sounds fair,” the treasure-hunter said.
“Sounds awful,” Never said.
Elina sighed. “Stop complaining, will you?”
“I try but it’s too difficult.”
“Yes, I can see that.” She tossed her own pack onto the boards before helping Luis with his. Never placed the oars in the bottom of the boat and added a few more items before climbing out. Using the mooring rope he pulled the boat up the stone ramp. The bottom scraped and Luis joined him. Together they hauled the boat onto the pier. “Check on our friend, can you?” Never asked Elina.
She nodded, moving along the dock. At its end she shaded her eyes against the sun. He followed her gaze. There was little to mark. Only the sun glittering on the river’s surface – the fisherman was no-where to be seen. Good.
Unless whoever followed had simply slipped from sight on purpose.
Never led the way down steps cut into the rockface beside the falls, the long keel of the boat digging into his shoulder as he walked, one hand gripping the side. White water charged down into the dark green, spraying him with mist. It slicked the edges of the steps, but the path was wide enough that he could avoid the water without earning a face-full of stone or creeping vines on the opposite side. “Someone made this stair properly,” he called back.
Elina, who carried the provisions, shouted over the falls. “I told you. The Silver Tree takes care of its roads.”
Never continued down. The stair remained broad for half the afternoon, with only minor turns, and it was good to stretch his muscles after so long in the boat, but just as he’d considered calling for Elina to switch with him, an obstacle appeared. Ahead, the rockface turned toward the waterfall, perhaps to avoid some unseen blockage within the cliff. Whatever the reason, it meant trouble.
“Misery ahead,” he said as he slowed. Luis answered with a grunt, and together they lowered the boat. Carrying it on their shoulders, while making the sharp turn, would mean letting the boat pass near the fall, enough for the furious water to tear it from their grip.