“How long does he need to rest?”
Talon shrugged. “I’m not sure how long he can last in the realm of the living, but my amma told me that he needed to return to the spirit world once in a while to rest, and the longer the better. I’ll call him back after nightfall.”
They walked on for a time, and Talon searched the coast with growing apprehension. Every mile he went without finding any sign of Akkeri, his hopes of doing so diminished that much more. What if he was on the wrong path? Perhaps she hadn’t even made it. He refused to consider the possibility.
After making good time for a few hours, they’d still found no sign of Akkeri—or any pursuers, praise the gods. Still, Talon didn’t drop his guard, and he noticed how Tyson glanced back every few minutes as well.
An hour before nightfall they crested a large hill rising along the coast. Talon peered over the sheer cliff at the crashing waves a hundred feet below. He found nothing of interest. Tyson collapsed and lay on his back, panting as he stared up at the dark clouds overhead. The rain had let up, but it had left them sodden and soggy. Luckily the day had been warm.
Talon sat down on the rocky ground and suggested they eat while the rain had stopped.
From their vantage point, they enjoyed a wide view in all directions, and could make out any pursuers long before they got close.
Talon took out the dried meat and half brick of cheese. He gave some to Tyson, who thanked him and tore off a strip of the meat with his teeth.
Talon ate the food without tasting it, his mind preoccupied with the faces of the dead.
He hadn’t been able to save Windy.
He thought again, how Tyson must be feeling, and said, “You guys were friends back on Volnoss? You and Marcus?”
Tyson smiled, but sorrow shone in his eyes. “Yeah. I knew the crazy bastard since we were kids.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Talon said, sincerely.
“Thanks. You lost a friend too? Jahsin?”
The old pain returned with vigor, and a lump swelled in Talon’s throat. “I could have saved him…but I was too weak. I let an enemy live, and he ended up killing Jahsin.”
Tyson said nothing. He simply nodded, understanding.
“I’ll never make the same mistake again,” said Talon.
His mind drifted then to those he’d killed. Tyson had made a good argument about self-defense and the protection of others, but the memories of what he’d had to do still filled him with dread. Deep down he knew what he was really afraid of. He worried that he would begin to enjoy the killing. When he fought against those men, a part of him that had lay dormant his entire life had been unleashed. The part of him that was held back from blurting out at the teasing Vald children, that wanted to fight back…wanted to kill them all. Talon had always fought to control his rage, his anger, knowing that it would only get him killed. But now, with the ring and Chief, he didn’t need to hold back that part of himself. Still, he was afraid of what he might become, should he gain an appetite for blood.
They ate in silence and watched as the storm clouds began to recede to the north. The southern sky shone clear in the twilight. The night would be a dry one, at least. Talon checked his rations. The bread was hard and stale. Only two strips of meat and a quarter of the brick of cheese remained, but he still had a bag of nuts and seeds he hadn’t gotten into yet. It would see them through a few days if they ate sparingly. Chief could always find them game, but a fresh kill required an open fire, and with the slavers and soldiers likely on their trail, Talon didn’t want to risk one too often.
“We need to find some new clothes,” said Tyson.
He was right. Talon’s shirt was torn and ragged, and his itchy burlap trousers weren’t in much better condition. Tyson wore similar clothes, apparel that screamed slave rags. The men in the villages wore fine clothing, usually blues and greens with brown trousers. The women wore long dresses with similar earth tones, and even the slavers dressed relatively well.
“I seen a few farmhouses scattered around. Maybe we can snag some clothes from one of them,” said Tyson.
Talon nodded agreement.
When night came, he called Chief back from the spirit world. They’d decided to sleep there, on the high bluff. They would be able to retain their vantage point, and though the wind blew swiftly across the cliff, it was warm. Talon set Chief to watching the perimeter and rested his head on his pack. He didn’t allow himself to sleep until he heard Tyson’s soft snoring. Not that he thought he would try anything with Chief about, but he couldn’t be too sure. Tyson had stolen the trinket once already, and though he said it was to help in the fight, Talon had his apprehensions. He had seen Tyson running out of town. There was a moment when he intended on stealing it and abandoning them. Just to be safe, he stuffed the timber wolf figurine down the front of his pants.
He stared at the sky for a long time, just as he had so many nights on Volnoss.
“What do you think the people of Agora are like?” Akkeri asked, as they lay hand in hand beneath the stars.
“I don’t know, but I hope they’re better than the Vald,” said Talon.
“You really think we can do it? Escape, I mean.”
“I think we can, and I think we will. You, me, and Jahsin are getting out of here. I promise you.”
She sighed. “I would be happy with a small farm—pigs, goats, cows, chickens. Just a quiet corner of the world where we can be happy.”
Talon sat up to lean on one arm and regarded her. He could have stared at her forever.
“One day you’ll have your quiet corner of the world, Akkeri.”
She laughed at him. “You don’t have to get it for me. We can find it together.”
“I’ve already found my corner of the world. It’s wherever you are,” he said.
She laughed again and hit him playfully. “You’re fishing for kisses.”
“So?”
She pulled him down and kissed him softly
“I love you, Talon Windwalker.”
Talon woke with the memory of Akkeri’s kiss lingering on his lips. The dream began to fade and he closed his eyes tight, trying desperately to go back—but it eluded him. The waking world claimed him as the memory faded, and the smell of her hair with it.
He gave a sigh and sat up. Tyson was not where he had fallen asleep—he was nowhere to be seen. The morning sun had yet to crest the burning horizon, and Talon turned to the east to watch it rise, unconcerned with Tyson’s whereabouts for the moment. Chief climbed the hill from the south and joined him.
“Hey, boy,” he said, pulling him in for a hug and scratch behind the ears.
Chief made funny groaning noises, sounding like wolf-speak.
“You seen Tyson about?”
“We been hunting together,” came Tyson’s voice from behind.
Chief gave a small bark and panted happily. Talon turned to find Tyson proudly holding up a small deer by the hind legs.
“A yearling, going to be some tender meat on this one,” he said, dropping it onto the grass.
“How are we supposed to cook it?”
“With a… fire,” Tyson replied, as if Talon were slow.
“We’ve got men looking for us. You think a fire is such a good idea?”
“What men?” Tyson asked. He extended his arms and looked around. “They got no idea what direction we was headed.”
“They found us once.”
Tyson scoffed. “We were careless—“
“Exactly! Don’t you think cooking a deer on an open fire for hours is a bit careless?”
Tyson acted as if he were considering the question. “Yeah, that would be careless. But I said nothing about an open fire. Me and Chief found a cave along the coast to the west…and we found some scattered boat parts.”
Talon shot to his feet. “Show me!”
They ran down the hill with Chief following behind, carrying the dead deer by the neck. The ground evened out and another hill began. They went around t
his one and headed straight toward the coast. The grass gave away to shale and sand as the ocean opened up before them. The shoreline seemed to be losing a thousand year war with the ocean. In many places, the steep cliff had slid into the waters long ago, and now lay mangled and broken among the crashing waves that rubbed them smooth.
Water crashed and sprayed them both as they gingerly made their way. They came to an inlet of calmer waters unaffected by the break, and Talon stopped dead. There, along the rocks, was an old tattered sail and a pile of splintered wood.
“Is it hers?” asked Tyson.
It was, but he didn’t answer, dreading what he might find.
They crept along the rocks, which reached up from the broken shale like ancient monoliths. Talon suddenly lost his nerve and turned back. “I can’t...I don’t want to find…”
Tyson patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll look.”
Talon nodded gratefully and waited for Tyson to declare whether he’d found a body. It was torture. He seldom prayed, but now called to all the gods he could remember.
“I found a piece of cloth, maybe from a shirt or blouse. It’s alright, Talon. You can come look. There’s no…there’s nothing else here.”
Talon carefully maneuvered along the rocks and joined Tyson by the wreckage. The sail had caught on one of the jagged rocks and now moved with the ebb and flow of the waves.
“She must have come in on a high tide if the boat cleared those rocks farther out,” said Tyson, inspecting the wreckage. “You think she would’ve left a sign?”
Talon lit up. “Perhaps.” He began searching the stones for a carving of some sort. Chief sniffed around with him, but they found nothing. Talon looked up at the cliff face and noticed an opening not too high up. “That the cave you meant?” he asked Tyson.
“Yeah, that’s the one. Let’s go check it out.”
They climbed up to the mouth of the cave and Chief ran inside.
“Akkeri! Akkeri!” Talon yelled into the darkness. Judging by the echo, the cave was rather vast. He listened closely but no one answered.
“We can start a fire inside and search the cave with torches. We need to cook the deer anyway,” Tyson suggested.
Chief returned shortly and continued sniffing about outside. He spun in circles and then went back to the tattered sail, looking out at the ocean. He gave a quick sneeze and came back to the cave entrance.
“What you got, boy?” Talon asked. Chief only whined and resumed his search.
“I think if she was here he would be leading us to her,” said Tyson. “Let’s get a fire going and search the cave. We got to cook the venison anyway.”
Talon nodded as he watched Chief.
Chapter 7
The Cave of Dreams
His gifts will catch many eyes and tempt weak hearts. –Gretzen Spiritbone, 4992
They hung the deer, using Talon’s rope, and made the trek to the nearest trees. After five trips with armfuls of deadwood, they started a fire near the entrance to the cave. Talon fashioned a torch and went about searching the vast cavern. What he found astounded him. Upon the walls were murals of elaborate artwork. He was overcome with a strong foreboding as he recognized one of the scenes upon the walls—a boy and a wolf pup watching a girl with a red ribbon, standing alone in a snowy field. His mouth went dry. “Bring another torch!” he yelled to Tyson.
Tyson hurried over. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a krellr.”
Talon noticed another mural and gasped at what he saw. “It can’t be…”
The mural depicted a woman on her deathbed, her skin discolored with the sickness. In another, a boy played in a field with a wolf pup. There was one with the boy standing well under the Miotvidr stick—all around him, giants laughed and pointed. The next showed him being nursed to health by the girl with flowing red locks…
Talon fell to his knees, stunned. He stared at the mural of his mother—he had never seen her before.
“Feikinstafir, Talon! You’ve got to see this one.”
Talon was dizzy. What did all this mean? Why was his life depicted here on these cave walls? He made his way to Tyson and stared, wide eyed.
“Now, that is the strangest shyte I have ever seen in my gods forsaken life,” said Tyson.
The wall portrayed the two of them looking up at a picture of themselves, looking up at a picture of themselves.
“What the hells is going on here, Talon?”
“I’ve no idea.
Chief barked and they both jumped with a start.
“What is it, Chief?” Talon asked, his voice shaky.
Chief was on his hind legs waging his tail and staring up at the wall. Talon raised the torch and tears welled in his eyes. Tyson came up beside him and patted him on the shoulder.
“She was here,” said Talon.
The painting showed a weary looking Akkeri sitting in the cave, holding herself as though she were cold. A smeared handprint of wood ash had been placed beside her picture—Akkeri’s handprint? Talon raised his own hand and pressed against it, shuddering.
“Akkeri!” his tortured voice echoed throughout the dark cave. He had to scream or else fall apart.
“Is she here somewhere, Chief? Can you smell her?” asked Tyson, but Chief only lowered his head and stopped wagging his tail.
Talon wiped his eyes, angry at his tears, and scoured the walls for more information. “Why wouldn’t she just wait for me if she found the picture of…”
Talon’s voice trailed off as he found another mural. This one depicted a group of rugged looking sailors standing at the mouth of the cave—McGillus among them. Beyond him, out on the open waters, sat the big slave ship.
“Godsdamnit! She’s been on the slaver the whole time,” Talon yelled. He kicked a nearby stone and pain shot through his big toe, but he ignored it. “You were on the slaver—you never saw her?”
Tyson shook his head. “Sorry. Like Thorg said, you can hardly tell who you’re pissin’ on.”
“Which direction was the ship headed?”
“Hard to tell. When we were sold by the Vald they put us below deck right off. Which way we sailed from the island was hard to know.”
“How long were you at sea?”
Tyson thought for a moment. “Not long, the journey lasted about a day or so. After the ship stopped moving, we sat in that hole for a few more before they brought some of us up on deck and then to an auction. It was the village where you found us.”
Talon realized that if Akkeri was found out, she might well have been returned to the Vald.
Tyson seemed to know his mind. “I doubt anyone would’ve known who she was. Timberwolf Tribe don’t sell their Skomm the same time my tribe does. The slaver came and went miles from your village.”
Talon was grateful for his reassuring words. Still, an annoying flicker of doubt remained. If Fylkin somehow found out about her being on the slaver…
He couldn’t think that way. “Alright,” he said, trying to clear his head. “What kind of people are women like her sold to?”
Tyson shrugged. “I’m not an expert on slaving just ‘cause I was on a ship for a day. But I would guess that a looker would be sold to…to the pleasure houses, or to someone with a lot of coinage. A…whatever it is they call such people ‘round these lands.”
“A nobleman,” Talon said, liking that possibility much better than pleasure house.
They went on to search the rest of the cave. The main cavern split off in three different directions. As Tyson went right, Talon took the middle and soon came across depictions of him and Akkeri gathering apothecary supplies, Vaka Brekken’s death, and the explosion at the mines. The tunnel opened into another wide cavern, and there the paintings ceased—but for one. Maneuvering among the stalactites, Talon raised his torch to the last painting and sucked in his breath.
Tyson walked in behind him. “What did you find? Anything?”
Talon whirled around. “Nothing much. You find anything new?”
&
nbsp; Tyson glanced at him suspiciously. “What is it?”
Talon laughed and pointed back toward the entrance. “Nothing. Let’s go check that other—“
Tyson tried to inspect whatever Talon had been looking at, but Talon blocked the way.
“Move,” said Tyson.
Talon shook his head and stood his ground. “You don’t need to see it.”
“Get the hells out of my way,” said Tyson, pushing past. When his torchlight fell upon the painting, he froze. “Why would you try to keep this from me?”
“It doesn’t mean nothing. It might not happen.”
The painting depicted Talon kneeling by a bloody Tyson, closing his eyes with two fingers.
Chief came padding into the cavern, and he too stared at the painting. He licked Tyson’s hand and whimpered.
“I feel the same way, Chief,” he said, petting his head.
“This doesn’t mean it’s going to happen,” Talon said again.
Tyson offered him a smile that said, Thanks for that, but you’re full of shyte. He turned from the painting and left the cavern.
Talon followed him through the main chamber and into the last tunnel. This one too had depictions of his life in Volnoss. Scenes he didn’t recognize were there as well. In one, Talon was fighting a big man in a sand pit surrounded by screaming onlookers. In another, he was sitting, watching a sunset with a huge man who looked to be Vald. Their backs were to him, however, so he couldn’t see the man’s face.
“Most of these are in the past, right? But others, like the one that shows me dead, are the future.”
“Possible future,” said Talon.
“Sure. Well I think this one is the future, unless you’re friends with a silver hawk.”
Confused by his words, Talon hurried to see what he meant. This one showed Talon standing in a field beside a hawk three times his size. From across a field, Akkeri ran to him with arms wide, a big smile spread across her face. The tears streaming down her cheeks were formed by shining minerals in the stone rather than paint.
“It looks like you’ll find her after all,” said Tyson.
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