“Yes,” Hunter murmured.
“A good look at that scout book of hers might tell you what it was. I think she has codes in there. Perhaps some we haven’t seen.” Fentris hesitated, then said diffidently, “We could alternate keeping watch on them. It would give us more of a chance to see when they’re ready to run.”
Hunter glanced at him. “That would put you at their backs, watching them, wouldn’t it?”
Fentris stiffened, but went on doggedly, “I was going to propose that we also run when they do—in the opposite direction. Change clothes on the road and ride on as ring-runners to Shockton. The Harumen will assume we’ve gone with the girl and boy and follow them instead. It could give us a larger margin of safety.”
“Safety. Yes. Of course.”
Fentris stared at Hunter for a long moment. Then he spurred his dnu around tightly and cantered away.
Hunter cursed under his breath, unsure whether he was angry at the fop or himself. Maybe it was pride. He’d believed the worst about Fentris for months after he got word of the murder. After the first letter from Shae, he’d burned the rest without reading them. But somewhere in the past two years, he’d started to remember the Fentris he had known before, the young boy who had tagged along after Hunter and Joao when they went out to carouse the city. Fentris had been skinny then, just a thin boy determined to do better in his training so he could keep up with his older brother. Hells, it had been Fentris who had shown Hunter a trick or two in swordsmanship after he’d won the city’s ranking league. Hunter frowned darkly. That had been just before festival, the year Hunter’s nephew was killed. The year he’d put up his bow.
He looked at his dnu, at the weapon lashed onto its side. Then stalked down the steps angrily, started to raise his arm to untie his dnu, and sucked in a breath at the stab of pain. He pressed hard against the wound. It was sore as a loose tooth, and the staples were stiff and crusty. “Dik spit on a poolah’s pelt,” he muttered. But he stared down the road after Fentris and wondered about the man.
XXVI
Tethered by intentions
Bound by unseen law
—Tumuwen proverb
If the midnight meeting had been tense, night itself was a relief. Nori slipped away in spite of Payne and Wakje’s watchful eyes, to meet Rishte just outside the circle in a small copse of breadbark. She spent the first hour copying notes from her old scout book to a new one. She rubbed dirt into the edges of the new pages, added some stains, smeared some of the lines with dirty fingers, and wrote twice in leaf ink. Then she ground dirt, nut oil, and bark debris into the cover. When the book began to look like her old one, she tucked it back in her jerkin.
She was tired, but she didn’t feel like sleeping. Her shoulders prickled as if she was being watched, and even the yearling was uneasy. There were rugged cliffs to the west, with almost no trails along them, but when Nori suggested they try that side of the road instead, the yearling snapped at her hand.
Death, he snarled.
She stared at him. There? Now?
Death was all he would say.
She looked in his eyes and tried to read the impressions there. She could see rocks and swamp through lupine eyes, but the images were yellow-black, centered on movement, not shape. It was fuzzy, as if it had been passed along through too many wolves, or blurred by time. All she could tell was that there was a narrow split back into the cliffs where water trickled out, that it was to the west. The wolves associated that part of the rocks so strongly with the Ancients’ domes that even the thought of it seemed to burn.
Death, he snarled again. Burning. Then-now.
“My gods,” she whispered. She stared at the wolf. This was more than memory. Plague. It’s real?
Burning, Rishte agreed.
She flipped her book back to her plague notes and entered a small code by the others. That made two spots where the packsong remembered plague dimly in recent years, and two spots where it could be real.
Three eerin threaded their way down the slope and spooked as they neared a deadfall, and both Nori and Rishte stilled. Nori listened through her ears and the wolf, but the night breeze was soft enough to murmur in the leaves. Neither one heard anything. Still, Nori closed both scout books and wormed her way back through the brush, following the wolf.
Rishte snarled, and she looked down at him. If she felt this uneasy by herself, how much more intensely did the yearling feel without his pack? Wait, she told him. I’ll be back.
She slipped into the circle, got her sleeping gear, and slipped back out by the firewood bins. This time, she moved farther away until Rishte was satisfied with their bed.
When she woke, it was quickly, with that heightened alertness in which every sound was a shot. It wasn’t until the warm muzzle nudged her that she relaxed.
Dawn. Wet earth. The woodmice are moving.
The wolf nudged her again, then panted in her face. The stench of rotted meat was almost overwhelming. She gagged in spite of herself, then rolled out of her sleeping bag and got to her feet. The wolf dodged back, but held his ground a few meters away. Nori grinned faintly. He was getting used to her in spite of the taint.
When she slipped back into the circle, she studied the wagon for long moments before approaching. There was nothing amiss. Payne’s mouth was half open in deep sleep. Uncle Wakje was silent enough that she knew he had awakened, but the ex-raider didn’t move from the sling bed.
Nori nodded to her uncle and glanced at the sky. The stars were washed out but clear enough for all that. Six of the nine moons floated serenely overhead while the sun thought of breaking the tree line. In the shadows, Rishte’s golden eyes seemed to gleam in her mind. Hunt, he sent. Hunger-hunt. He turned away, trotted a few paces along the barrier bushes, then paused and seemed to stare straight at her. Hunt with me, wolfwalker.
She shook her head, not looking back at Wakje. I cannot, she returned softly. We’ll be riding out in less than an hour. Come with me instead. You can eat jerky and smoked pelan.
The yearling trotted a few more steps away, then went silently back into the forest. Nori listened for long minutes, but heard nothing. He was still near, she could feel him, but he would not come to her, not if she rode with men.
She slipped her knife onto her belt and rolled up her sleeping bag with a slight frown. Rishte was wild enough that humans frightened him badly, but it wasn’t just the idea of men that made him refuse to stay near her. That danger sense, the one of old death, was growing stronger in his mind. She could almost taste it now, like tension on her tongue, as if they rode toward it, not away. She straightened, hopped up on the gate, and gazed out at the brush line that marked the cozar circle. Trade shifting south, ring-runners murdered, and Harumen inside the circle. And over it all, like a balloon about to burst, she found out that plague was real, not just a years-old threat. She shook her head to herself. It made no sense, yet Fentris said the first three must be connected.
She had tipped her head back to think as she watched the stars fade when she sensed the presence nearby. Rishte had slunk back to the forest as dawn approached, and Wakje had gone back to sleep, but she needed neither to understand the prickling in her shoulders. She didn’t move overtly, but her left hand slicked a knife from its sheath, and her voice was soft as silk. “Move on, or I shall harm you.”
There was no sound, but after a minute, she knew the man had shifted away.
“Nori-girl?” It was Wakje, an almost silently breathed question.
“It was nothing, Uncle Wakje.”
But when the sky lightened, she moved to the side of the wagon to examine the impressions. She needn’t have worried. As usual, Uncle Wakje was ahead of her. He’d sprinkled a layer of flour on the stone paving on both sides of their wagon. Now he squatted by the wagon wheel with her to study the boot prints.
“Nice,” she murmured, nodding at the flour. She pulled out her new scout book and sketched the prints onto a page.
He nodded shortly. “Scrub it
out now. It’s getting light.”
They scuffed and blew on the stones so that the flour disappeared into the cracks. With luck, the watcher wouldn’t even know he’d left his prints behind.
Payne was squaring away his gear in the wagon when she returned from an early breakfast. He glanced over his shoulder. “You look alright for having been shot at twice and dumped on the ground last night.”
She nudged his open pack aside and hopped up into the wagon. “Twice missed, well blessed.” She watched Wakje lead the wagon dnu by, then peered around the wagon at fireside. Hunter had already finished breakfast, and was talking with two of the young women. She got up abruptly and began securing her gear.
Payne followed her gaze with a sly look. “If Brithanas were smart, he would play up the gash and get Vina to serve him the rest of his meals.”
“She’s a good cook,” Nori admitted noncommittally. Automatically, she plucked Payne’s dirty clothes from his bin and stuffed them in the washbag. She didn’t realize she used more force than necessary, or that her voice was a little sharp as she said, “I thought you were flirting with Vina.”
Her brother hid a grin. “Why would you care who she flirts with?”
“I don’t.” She jumped off the gate. “Latch up, will you? I want to check with the message master before we go.”
“Nori-girl.” He caught her. “Watch out for Condari.”
“He’s no worse than any elder.”
“You don’t go walking out with elders.” He caught her stubborn expression. “Crap on a brick and bake it, Nori-girl. At least the elders are old and grey and slow on foot. You can usually outrun them. This Tamrani looks a bit faster. I’d bet on all nine moons that he’s got more than a simple partnership in mind.”
Nori glanced up the line to where the two Tamrani were talking. “He’s not the first, Payne.”
“And he won’t be the last to want your wolves and your reputation, not you.”
“I know.” Her voice was flat. “He made that clear last night.”
But Payne persisted. “He knows things, Nori. I can see it when he looks at the chovas. He says he’s heading for Shockton to make a proposal to the council, but he could send any flunky for that. He says he’s carrying important papers, but he has no guards around him. Something’s up, and for Shae to go along with it when they hate each other, it has to be more than big.” He glanced around. “I’ve been talking with the elders, and they all say the same thing. He’s interested in the trade routes.”
Nori scowled. “Moons, Payne, why does that matter to me?”
“Because after fireside last night, I started wondering. I spoke to the ring-runners and felt out a few of the traders. There are rumors throughout the county. People are selling out along the southern trade routes, whether they want to or not, just like Piera’s grandfather. There are rumors of blackmail, threats, even kidnappings, with the ransoms being deeds.”
She gave him a sharp look. “You can’t think it’s Hunter who’s forcing them to sell?”
“No. He’s listening to the gossip with fourteen ears. I think he suspects the Harumen and whoever is behind them buying up the land.”
“What does it matter who owns it?”
“You’d be surprised what matters to Tamrani,” he answered. “But other than telling the council, that’s not our concern. You’ve got a duty, Wolfwalker,” he said deliberately. “And it’s not to Sidisport. You can’t afford to get mixed up in whatever House War he’s involved in, not if we’re going to track down the plague with Mama after the Tests. We have to keep to the family line, Nori-girl. Stay away from Brithanas.”
She didn’t look at him, but she nodded.
“He can’t force you to ride with him.” He watched her closely. “Unless you really want to.”
She shook her head again. “We agreed. I can’t. It would be nearly impossible to hide what I am—what I might do—from a partner.”
“And you already have a partner.” He tapped his chest.
“I was thinking that was Rishte,” she retorted.
“You’ve been using him, haven’t you?”
“Aye,” she said quietly. She knew he was referring to her sense of the attack last night, and to her attempt to track the danger spots that made the wolves uneasy. She saw Bell Rocks instead. She saw the men who would by now be hollowed-out carcasses, scattered ribs, shreds of flesh in the mud.
Payne forced his expression to stay light. The relief that she had used the wolf, had been able to protect herself in spite of the curse—it was overwhelming. So was the envy.
Nori didn’t miss it. “It isn’t changing anything, Payne. Nothing’s different. The fear, the sickness. The headaches. It’s all the same. Moonworms, it’s even stronger now because I can see it and smell it and taste it through Rishte’s senses, not just mine.”
A pair of cozar rode back along the line, and instinctively Payne waited till they had passed before continuing. “But three days ago, you led the worlags through a raider camp,” he said in a low voice. “Last night you faced the raiders head-on. Brithanas said you went after them without hesitation. And you stood up to Mato at fireside.”
“That was anger, not courage. And at Ironjaw Creek, I ran from the worlags like a blind rabbit. After Bell Rocks, I left my stomach on the side of the trail. I probably killed those four people, Payne, and I know I had to do it, but afterward all I could see was that I’d turned on my own kind.” Her lips twisted with self-loathing. The daughter of the great Dione, cowardly as a nightkite. She swallowed and shook her head. “Last night, I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was Rishte, not me, in my mind.”
“You’re not a coward,” he said flatly. She gave him a warning glance, and he lowered his voice. But he frowned. Only three times had he known her to defend herself. Once, when she was fifteen, in Sidisport; four years ago in Tume; and one other time in Sciome. The first time had left her terrified of people; the second had left her terrified of herself. The third time, a blader had stepped out of an alley and demanded her silver. She’d refused. She’d let the man stab almost completely in before she’d finally moved. Moons alone knew how she’d been fast enough to avoid the knife, but she’d left that man flat on the ground, choking on his own blood. She could kill worlags, poolah, and badgerbears without batting either eye. She could best him in any martial ring. But every time she’d ridden with a venge, she’d been sick as a food-poisoned puppy.
They had hoped that, when she bonded with a wolf, her natural strengths would kick in, would give her a better defense against humanity. If they didn’t . . . His jaw tightened. She would be even more like prey, more vulnerable, more easily taken. And the rabbit-fear he’d seen freeze her in place? That was like a flag to a predator. Raiders, muggers, Harumen—they smelled that kind of vulnerability like grease on a rising wind.
The Tamrani would have seen that weakness. Brithanas already felt protective toward Nori or, rather, toward the Daughter of Dione. If the Tamrani caught a whiff of her real vulnerability, he’d be on her like a mating bollusk. Even when they rode apart, Brithanas continued to watch her. It stiffened Payne’s neck so that he found his own lips curling. Now that Nori was bonding, Payne wouldn’t even be able to keep up with her to protect her from what she might face. He smoothed his expression with difficulty. “But you are bonding,” he said, more to reassure himself. “It’s just new. It will strengthen with time.”
Nori regarded him curiously. Sometimes he seemed as stern as their father, and sometimes he sounded so young. “I’ll work on it,” she said gently.
“What is it like?”
She halted, closed her eyes for a moment, and opened them again. In the sunlight, her pupils looked almost black. “Moons, Payne.” She reached out and rested her arm along his in a rare public gesture. “At first, I was almost dizzy, shocked, twisted inside myself. Then my thoughts seemed to straighten out—differently, but clear. It was a wash of clarity, a wrench out of the . . . the complacency of my o
wn senses. It was a glimpse of grey in shadow. You know how your vision doubles when you look into their eyes? You see yourself through their eyes, not just out through your own. This was different. Deeper, harder. I swear my heart stops beating each time and yet doubles in pace. Time stops moving. I can feel teeth in my mind. I am torn apart and yet found at the same moment. And it grows. Look at me. I can’t see or smell or hear him right now, but I can feel him even at this distance. Like a comfort that I can’t touch, or the smell of hot rou and cinnamon steaming on a cold morning just out of reach.”
“Is it . . . everything you expected?”
“More.”
He swallowed his jealousy and lightened his voice. “More would give you Mama’s touch, and you wouldn’t be so sore.”
“More of anything in that direction, and I wouldn’t even have a bruise.”
“Ah, but what’s an adventure without a bruise to prove it? Besides, it serves you right for adventuring without me.”
As if either of them could, she thought. The Tamrani didn’t know it yet, but she was a losing proposition. She glanced toward the forest and felt a chill. Even if she was approved to Journey, she’d still have to follow Payne.
XXVII
When you struck him there,
Was it intentional?
—Question of the elders at the Test of Abis
Hunter nodded shortly as yet another cozar wished him a quick healing. They’d given out that he’d slipped, fallen, and gashed his shoulder on a branch. At least some of the cozar had suspected Hunter of something else, because he caught dark looks from more than one until Nori reined beside him and smiled a good morning.
Fentris’s lips twitched as yet another cozar cheerfully wished Hunter good health, and Hunter was forced to thank them. “His pride is suffering more than anything else,” Fentris told Nori as he hid a grin at Hunter’s irritation. “They’re not really wishing him a fast healing; they wish him less clumsiness.”
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