“Not now,” said Xain. “Come.”
The wizard vanished, and Loren could hear his heavy footfalls fading into the night’s ink. A flash of starlight glimmered off his long brown locks as he crested a rise to the camp’s south, and then he was gone.
Loren gained her feet without a sound, glancing at Gem. The urchin’s snores joined the gurgling river as the otherwise silent night’s only sounds.
Gem would keep. If need be, she could return for him. But the boy always woke with a clamor and might rouse Seth or Jordel.
She crept away, far more quietly than Xain. As she neared the rise, she saw the driver lying in the grass. For a moment, she feared him dead, until she neared him enough to hear his heavy breath wheezing out against the turf below. Xain had subdued him, then, but had not struck to kill. That was a comfort—she wished to deal with murderers no more.
Xain waited just over the rise. He looked at her expectantly and motioned her forwards with a furtive wave. Together, they walked towards the river, where the water’s whisper might mask their voices.
At last, Xain stopped and turned to speak, but Loren burst into speech before he uttered a word.
“Where have you been? We have ridden many days upon the road and found you nowhere.”
Xain smirked. “I, too, am glad to find you safe and whole.”
Loren rolled her eyes, though she realized he might not see it in the dark. “I am glad you are safe. But where is Annis?”
“Which question shall I answer first, girl? Or may I make everything clearer by my own account?”
With folded arms and a stomping foot, Loren glared but spoke no further.
Xain nodded, taking her silence for assent. “Annis waits nearby, along with our horses. We left behind our carriage long ago, as you did today. We have been waiting for the right time to rescue you, and I am not yet sure it is here. But with an army at your back, a better time might never come. And mayhap the mercenaries’ pursuit will distract the Mystic enough to make good our escape.”
“What do you mean, rescue? We were in no danger before today, and I believe our pursuers have been left behind.”
“Do not be so sure. For while their main force cannot cover ground as quickly as you four, they could still send outriders to chase you. I say ‘could,’ but it is more than likely. Such a fighting force will not like four wandering mouths and wagging tongues so free in the world. We would do well to be away before they find the Mystic.”
“You know with whom I travel, then. Have you met before?”
Xain’s eyes grew hooded, and he looked away. “You might say I know the man less than the cloak he bears upon his shoulders. None should trifle with Mystics, for they are fey and quick to turn from friend to foe. Had I been there when you encountered him, I would have warned you then. But tell me, why do you travel together?”
Loren thought hard upon her answer, looking over her shoulder towards Jordel’s camp.
I owe the Mystic nothing.
“He seeks you, wizard. He heard from the constables that you traveled with a girl—that is, me—and soon guessed that I might aid in finding you. I might have ignored his offer had he not been my only chance to escape from Cabrus.”
Xain’s face paled in the starlight. “Why does he seek me? Has he told you? What is his name?”
“Which question shall I answer first, wizard?” Loren smirked. “Or may I make everything clearer by my own account?”
Xain grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “I play no games, girl. What is his name?”
Loren had well earned her reputation as the best wrestler in her village. She seized his forearms and twisted until the wizard yelped. Then she gave him a gentle shove while placing her foot behind his to send him crashing to the ground. She looked down upon Xain with folded arms.
“You may command the elements, but you would make a poor fighter. As for your question, his name is Jordel. Does that mean anything to you?”
Xain looked more frightened than angry. Slowly he rose, and ran fingers through his hair as he paced back and forth.
“Jordel. The face behind the name. I thought I had left him back at the High King’s Seat. He must have followed me all the way to Cabrus. Our escape was more fortunate than I knew. Loren, we must get as far from that man as we can, and as quickly as possible.”
“I wish for the Mystic’s company no longer. I will go with you. But I would know: What brought you back? You have left me twice already and tried to leave more often than that. You could have been halfway to the outland kingdoms by now.”
Xain’s jaw twitched twice in quick succession. “I have told you often enough that I have no interest in watching over a young girl.” He scowled. “And yet I suppose I could not abandon you to your fate in the company of a redcloak.”
“Annis had nothing to do with this decision, then?”
The lines in his face deepened. “It is true that for such a young child, the girl can be most persuasive. Indeed, I would not have left such a young child alone even now except that she cannot seem to stop talking for the length of a minute.”
Loren smiled, stepped forward, and patted Xain gently atop his long curls. “Oh, dear wizard, are you nothing more than a softhearted old man?”
Xain swatted at her hand. His eyes glowed white in the darkness, and flames sparked from his fingers. “Remember whom you speak to, girl, lest I roast you for supper.”
Loren chuckled. “Very well, then. We shall go, but first I must fetch Gem.”
“The boy? He is nothing to the Mystic and will be safe in his company. You risk detection if you return. I will not hesitate to leave you behind if the Mystic learns I am here.”
Loren waved an airy hand. “You are the one who forgets to whom you speak. They will no more hear me than they would a puff of wind in the night.”
She turned and walked away without waiting for the wizard’s reply. Then she crept back to camp, the river’s murmur fading behind her.
Loren’s eyes had grown used to the starlight, and she clearly saw where Jordel lay wrapped in a bedroll just yards from the horses. Gem lay close, but not too near. Their escape would be easier than she thought.
Loren measured each footfall. Her every breath came slow and measured, gently nudged through slightly parted lips. The Mystic shifted in his sleep, and Loren froze for a heart-stopping instant. But Jordel merely rolled on his side, away from Gem. After a pregnant moment, Loren pressed on.
She reached Gem’s side, and as Xain had done with her, she placed a hand over the boy’s mouth to stifle any waking cry. His eyes shot wide, almost glowing as they caught the moons’ reflection. Loren waited for him to still before leaning in, close enough that her lips almost brushed his ear.
“We are leaving,” she breathed. “Xain has returned, and I wish to travel with the Mystic no more.”
She gently drew her fingers away, but rather than move to rise, Gem whispered back, too loudly.
“I don’t want to go. Why would we?”
Loren clapped her hand back over his mouth. “Be silent. You will wake him. Come with me beyond the camp bounds. I will explain everything there. You must trust me for now. Xain says that Jordel is a danger. And after today, I am inclined to believe him.”
Gem rolled his eyes. Loren had not forgotten how easily the boy forgave Jordel for murdering the sellswords. But he held his silence when she removed her hand and rose to follow, scooping his pack from the ground and padding away behind her. Loren was glad to find his steps softer than Xain’s. She collected her own pack, slinging it over her shoulder under her cloak, and together they stole away south.
They had nearly reached the camp’s edge when Seth snorted and half rose on his forearms.
Heart in her throat, Loren grabbed Gem’s arm to lead him away, dragging him west around the rise. The driver started, his head lulling as if drunk. In seconds, he would realize they were gone.
“Hurry,” Loren dared to whisper.
They slipped
far enough away that Seth vanished from sight. Loren broke into a run, and Gem struggled to keep pace on shorter legs.
“Attack!”
Seth’s voice behind her made Loren jump. She doubled her pace as she landed and dragged Gem harder as the boy struggled to stay upright.
“Jordel!” the driver cried. “There has been an attack! Wake up!”
Loren felt a moment’s relief—they had not been spotted. But the Mystic would search for them in the darkness, and it was not difficult to see that south seemed their most likely course.
“Faster!” Loren hissed.
She led Gem slightly west until they neared the river banks. There they sped along until at last she saw Xain lurking in the darkness not far ahead.
“The driver woke,” she gasped as they reached the wizard. “They will be upon us in moments.”
“To the horses!” said Xain. “Quickly, but quiet.”
He ran on ahead. Gem groaned behind Loren. They climbed up and down the river’s adjacent rolling hills until at last Loren crested one to find a pair of horses below her.
“Can you ride?” said Xain.
“Poorly,” said Loren.
“I will take the boy, then. Come!”
Xain vaulted into the saddle and reached down to haul Gem up. Loren’s legs shook from fear and exertion, but somehow she managed to gain the saddle. The wizard seized her reins before spurring his own mount forward, and together they galloped into the night.
Though Loren looked over her shoulder often, she saw no sign of pursuit.
From danger into the unknown, she thought, wondering if she might ever know peace again.
seven
AFTER A SPELL HAD PASSED with no sign of pursuit, Loren took a moment to study the sky. She had failed to note the time since Xain found her but now saw the moons hanging almost straight above. Dawn was less than an hour away. She felt a bristle of fear at the thought of riding these wide, open lands in daylight when Jordel and Seth would be able to see for miles.
Xain, too, must have noted the hour. He shouted over the galloping hooves. “We must be well fled before the sun rises.”
“We could find a place to hide,” Loren called back.
“Where? There are no caves or woods, and we will be trapped if they find us.”
She saw the truth in his words. Nothing but low hills sprawled in every direction, and to hide in their dells would be to play a game of chance where they were as likely as not to be found.
So on they rode. Loren wondered how far they would have to go before reaching Annis. But soon Xain guided his horse right, swinging south to a small dip in the land between a matching set of hills. They descended together as the sky greyed above.
There stood Annis at last, in the ridiculous patchwork cloak she had acquired in Cabrus, looking up at them all in trepidation and hope. Loren dropped from her saddle nearly before Xain had brought his horse to a stop. The girls crashed into each other’s arms with unrestrained delight.
“You are here!” Annis squeezed her hard enough to shatter a bone. “I feared I might never see you again!”
Loren wrapped her arms around the girl’s torso and heaved her into the air. “You would need to try much harder than that to be rid of me.”
“Enough of this,” snapped Xain from horseback. “Ready our things. We must be away, and quickly.”
Loren sobered, releasing Annis and turning back to her horse. “He is right. Jordel and his driver seek us even now.”
“Who is Jordel?” Annis cocked her head.
“The Mystic we followed,” Xain said. “And a greater danger to us now than was ever the weremage. Prepare your horse!”
Annis turned and scurried off. Loren saw a third horse waiting nearby—a grey palfrey splotched with white. The girl threw her bags across the creature’s back and moved her hands to the straps and stirrups, checking each to ready her ride. Loren turned to Xain, so dark and grim atop his horse. Gem had not moved and indeed still appeared only half-woken.
“What danger is the Mystic to us? You have not explained. Does he wish to harm you?”
Xain turned from Loren. “Not in the manner you mean. But still, I would no sooner find myself in his hands than upon the headsman’s block. I will not yet say more.”
Loren frowned as Annis rode up to them. The sky had blushed from its grey, and Loren felt a pressing urge to move on. She got herself into the saddle again, albeit with much more trouble than Annis. The girl skillfully guided her steed alongside Xain’s and reached over to pull Gem into a warm hug.
“You, too, I feared I might never see again. I am glad I was wrong.” Annis pulled back slightly to give him a peck on the cheek.
Gem grimaced and swiped at his face. “Sky above, girl, remove yourself. I am a scholar, not some stable boy you discovered behind the barn.”
Annis giggled and nudged her palfrey away. Loren settled in her saddle, and Xain flapped his reins. Together, their horses walked carefully up the dell until they reached the wide plain above.
A quick scan told Loren nothing. The sky had grown barely light enough to see by, but no figures crossed the landscape, at least that she could see. Still, Loren felt exposed, as though hungry eyes stared from shadows unseen.
“We ride south,” said Xain, “as fast as we can, and mayhap we can leave the Mystic behind.”
“Not due south,” Loren argued. “We should move west and make for the river.”
“That is a fool’s path,” said Xain. “It brings us too close to his course.”
Loren was not surprised to find herself annoyed by the wizard already. “We must do more to evade him than simply ride and hope. They are one to each horse, and better riders than I. Jordel will follow the signs we leave with our passing once the sky grows light enough to see by. Only masking our trail in the river will save us.”
“We ride west, and gallop into his arms. If he is upon our trail already, he will come east to meet us.”
“He cannot be. Not yet. He will wait until sunrise before trying to follow. Try in the dark, and he would almost certainly head in the wrong direction. But if he waits until dawn, the Mystic can follow our horses’ marks.”
Loren remembered Jordel’s walk while stalking the sellswords, his footsteps like a woodsman, eyes wary and searching so much like her own.
Xain’s jaw clenched, and he gave a curt nod. Loren nodded in thanks and led her horse to the fore.
They rode hard, and again her world turned to the thunder of hooves and the rushing of wind in her ears. She led them south and west, at an angle from the path they had taken to find Annis in the dell. Her eyes drifted upwards to see the sky’s growing light, and twice she turned to see the sun’s ruddy glow painting the mountain peaks far away. When she moved her eyes from the mounting daylight, they roved the lands around them, half expecting to see a mounted figure in a crimson cloak. But they rode unmolested and before long crossed the King’s road to find themselves back among low hills east of the river.
Then Loren breathed easier and let the horses slow to a trot. They found the riverbank and paused. Xain still searched for signs of pursuit, but Loren felt herself relax.
She nodded towards the river. “Now we ride south in the shallows.”
“The water will slow the horses,” Gem said.
Loren tilted her chin at him ever so slightly. “A bit, yes. But Jordel will find our trail and see that we entered the water. We might ride east or west once we leave it, and he will be forced to go slowly so as not to miss our marks. We will move slowly, but he will move slower still.”
“Clever,” said Xain, his voice grudging. “Perhaps I am too quick to forget your woodcraft, Loren of the family Nelda.”
Loren thrilled at the compliment but gave the wizard only a brisk nod. “I have few enough skills in this world and must make do with what I can.”
“Perhaps not as few as you believe.”
Gem said, “Shall we ride on, or would the two of you prefer a moment
alone?”
Xain cuffed the boy on his ear. Loren reached across and punched him gently under the ribs. Gem gasped for air.
They rode forward with Loren in the lead heading into the shallows. Xain and Annis followed in line behind her. She kept them at a trot, and soon water moistened their boots where their horses’ hooves kicked up a spray.
On and on they rode, and at long last they felt the kiss of true dawn as the sun broke above low hills to the east. By now, Loren knew Jordel must have been following their trail for a while—the sky had been light enough for nearly an hour. But tracking required thought, and he would not find their entry to the river for some time.
Or so Loren hoped.
Their horses devoured the miles in silence. Eventually, the sun passed straight overhead, and their mounts flagged beneath them. Xain ordered a rest. Loren protested, and the wizard fixed her with a stern glare.
“You know your woodcraft, but you are a novice when it comes to horses. Our mounts will die beneath us if we do not care for them, and then the Mystic will have no trouble catching us. I do not doubt his horses are worthier than ours, but they too must rest.”
Loren grudgingly acknowledged her ignorance. No villager in the Birchwood had ever hoped to afford a horse. The thought of suddenly losing their steeds in this wide foreign land chilled her to the bone.
“Won’t they see our marks here?” Gem pointed to the ground, where their horse’s sopping hoofprints stood clear amidst the riverbank’s loose grey sand.
Loren said, “It will hardly matter. They will see only that we rested and then returned to the water. It will only reassure them that they are on the right path, and there is little we can do about that unless you wish to break bread in the water.”
“No thank you. I am soaked already.” Loren saw it was true, for without boots Gem’s legs were well doused.
They hobbled the horses and ate a cold meal on the riverbank. Loren took the chance to speak with Annis again. After another brief hug, they sat on the water’s edge, heedless of the damp sand clinging to their bodies.
Mystic: A Book of Underrealm Page 4