by Dana Davis
Ian pointed to something in the distance. He spoke softly to Marjordan and the healer nodded. Whit trotted her horse to the front and conferred with the two for a moment. Cait obviously hadn’t been invited to join but she strained to hear the conversation. She caught a couple of disjointed words from the soft voices, not enough to figure out what they discussed.
Her eyes shifted to Quinpatrik. His sandy hair was matted to his temples with sweat as he stared at the water. He seemed distant but his posture gave the impression of pure alertness. Cait scratched at the grit on her sweating arm. The water beckoned and she wondered if they would have time for a plunge.
“We’ll stop near those two tree stumps for noonmeal,” Ian announced, jolting Cait from her bathing thoughts. The warrior rubbed at his head. His scalp was red beneath his cropped hair.
“I think you’re getting sunburned, Ian,” Marjordan said. “You should wrap that head of yours.”
“Yes, Healer. Before we ride again.”
That seemed to satisfy the woman and she nodded.
Cait grinned. Warriors never seemed to take care of their health. Ian considered sunburns as unimportant as bruised elbows.
The group followed him a ways to the stumps. Trees around the clearing gave enough shade for all to sit comfortably while eating a late noonmeal. The horses drank the nearby water and munched on grasses.
Cait finished her bread and stretched her neck from side to side. That’s when she noticed a large boulder atop the ridge above. One side was completely blackened, as though it had been scorched, making the other side stand out in the bright sunlight. Her eyes found two other boulders with similar traits.
“P-Marj?” She kept her gaze on the rocks above. “Look.”
The woman moved to her side and sat, craning her neck. “Mmm, good eye, Cait. Looks like we’re close to Rotted City’s entrance. Those are some of the markers the guide described.”
“Yes,” Ian said. “Probably not more than an hour ride, now. He pulled a small, windy-watch from his waist pouch and tapped the cracked glass before studying the fragile hands beneath. Only a few were ever found with the glass still intact. Each sub-sanction had one or two. “We should get on our way. They’ll be expecting us at the site tomorrow and it’ll probably take a couple of hours to get through Rotted City. We definitely don’t want to get stuck there after dark.” He put the windy-watch back and rubbed at his sunburned head before covering it with his scarf.
“Ian?” Cait glanced nervously at the outlines of the city. “What’ll we find there?”
He took in a long breath then pursed his lips before speaking. “Most of it was destroyed centuries ago and travelers say the jagged remains are poisonous. They can transfer the ancient illness by piercing the skin. But you know the tales, Cait. We definitely want to see where we’re going through that place.”
She nodded when he confirmed the stories she’d heard all her life. “Will the horses be okay?”
“There’s an uncluttered travelers’ route and, since there haven’t been any major storms this far out this season, it should still be clear. Just follow carefully and keep your mind on what’s around you. Don’t touch anything.” He moved off to confer with Whithelen.
His words made Cait’s hairs stand on end and again she regretted her actions. Getting the Mask had been the only thing on her mind. Her father had searched all his life and she was determined to finish what he started. Hendrake had a great instinct for finding things and had somehow suspected that the artifact lay in one of those caves. Caitlanna hoped she would be as skilled as her father someday. So far, all she felt she’d been was a great disappointment.
It was her fault they were here, traveling toward Rotted City, chancing disease, dagbeasts and mutants. She had endangered everyone with her foolishness. Her eyes filled with tears and she wiped angrily at them as she crossed to Graypony and busied herself. She smoothed the animal’s silvery hair, checked the saddle, then pulled her hat down a bit, in hopes that no one would notice her tears.
“Cait?” Marjordan said from behind her.
“I’m nearly ready.” She forced her voice steady.
“Look at me, girl.”
She turned but kept her head down. Marjordan removed her hat then pinched her chin and forced her to look up. It took all of her will not to burst into tears as the woman studied her.
“You’ve learned a hard lesson. Don’t let the past fog your mind. What’s done is done and we need to concentrate on the now.” She raised a dark brow. “Do you understand me, girl? Don’t let one mistake turn into many.” Cait tried to look away as tears streamed down her hot cheeks, but Marjordan tightened her grip. “I said, do you understand?” Her eyes hardened.
She swallowed back her tears. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Marjordan wiped Cait’s wet face as though she were a young child. “Now, get on your horse and prepare to stay alert.”
She obeyed. She had no desire to make more trouble.
****
Ian had been right about how long it would take to reach Rotted City. The sun had moved approximately one hour in the sky by the time they arrived. Caitlanna didn’t need a keyclock or windy-watch to tell time with the sun.
The ground beneath Graypony’s steps was charred, burnt so deeply that nothing grew, not even a weed. An eerie quiet surrounded the devastated city. As her eyes scanned the remains ahead, Cait saw jagged, blackened ruins that were once great buildings. In vain, she tried to picture a beautiful city where ancestors strolled along smooth roads and rode in great metal beasts. And flew! Oh, to fly, soar across the blue sky. She could only imagine what that felt like. But there was too much devastation here and all her mind created was a city of dying people, ill with the weapon sickness that plagued the ancient world.
A chunk of rusted metal lay near some of the crumbled ruins and she wondered if it once belonged to a famed metal beast. She’d heard the legends of great machines that moved at fantastic speeds, faster than horses or dagbeasts. Stories so old no one knew where they originated or if they were entirely true. Complete machines were said to exist, buried underground somewhere. No archaeologists, finders or strikers, had found them, though. Only pieces of ancient metal had been recovered and many of those by scavengers of long ago. Cait knew this piece would’ve been taken had it not been here in Rotted City.
She smiled as she envisioned herself locating an entire metal beast on a dig somewhere. The Elders would surely be devoted to her for the rest of her life. A find like that would bring prosperity to Marjordan and every person in M3, perhaps to the entire Mountain Sanction.
Ian’s dominant voice brought her mind back to the trail. “Go carefully.”
She was cautious to keep Graypony on the travelers’ route, watching for debris and jutting rock as she followed her primary through the ruins. Even a healer of Marjordan’s status couldn’t fight the ancient sickness.
The clicking of horses’ hooves created an eerie echo on the ancient rock or stone or whatever it was and Cait shivered. A distant howl caught her ears and she glanced toward the hills behind.
“Eyes forward,” Whithelen said sharply.
“Yes, Warrior.” Cait snapped her head around. Her blistered hands began to tingle with sleep but she didn’t dare loosen her grip on the reins. The horses must have sensed tension in the riders because they huffed and bobbed their heads almost constantly.
She crooned to Graypony, “Calm down, boy. Everything’s all right.”
The horse calmed and followed obediently behind Marjordan’s mare. Cait tried to relax and shifted her weight in the saddle, careful to keep eyes on her surroundings. Sometimes she would doze while riding but not here.
The group traveled for a long while. Monotonous ruins passed, one after another, charred beyond recognition, and Cait’s muscles grew sore from the tension that stiffened every part of her body. The ruins seemed to go on forever and she found this place unnerving. She pushed up in her saddle and glanced ahead o
f the group, trying to see an end to the blackened city.
“Cait!” Whithelen yelled from behind. “Your horse!”
But she didn’t get her eyes back quick enough. Graypony stepped on a blackened stone and fumbled briefly for his balance. Cait cursed, pulled the reins to stop him and climbed from the saddle, wary of her surroundings.
Marjordan had already dismounted. “What’re you doing?” She made her way to the horse and inspected his foot.
Ian stepped to the healer. “How is he?”
Marjordan let out a sigh. “He didn’t break the skin. I think he’ll be fine.”
Ian focused eyes on Caitlanna. “If he shows any sign of illness, I’ll put him down.”
“What were you doing?” Marjordan’s stance was such that Cait knew to answer truthfully.
“I was just—“
“Just what?” Ian narrowed eyes on her.
“I only took my eyes from the trail for a second.”
He stiffened and his jaw muscles rippled. Right now, he seemed taller than usual.
Cait swallowed hard and lowered her eyes in obedience.
“Keep in mind she’s still a child, Ian.” Marjordan spoke as a primary this time.
In one swift movement, Ian grabbed Cait firmly by both arms and shook her. “That was stupid, girl.” His eyes blazed. “You may have cost that poor beast his life.”
She lowered her gaze again and braced herself for a slap she richly deserved but it never came. Ian simply released her and strode back to his horse. She knew there would be no sympathy from the others. She wouldn’t even try for any. They were here because of her.
No, I won’t pity myself. I don’t deserve pity. This is my fault and I’ll take my chastisement like a woman.
Marjordan climbed back onto her mare without a word.
Cait quietly mounted her horse and followed. She fought the tears that threatened her vision and swallowed several times. Now, though, she kept her eyes on the travelers’ route. Only the route. Please be all right, Graypony. Please.
Chapter 6
Urges
It seemed an eternity before the group came to the end of Rotted City. Once on the barren ground, away from the ruins, Caitlanna relaxed a bit but her eyes scanned the blackened dirt for debris and rocks. The silence around her kept her alert. A bird’s song caught her ears and she fought the urge to dig her heels into Graypony’s sides and race toward the cheerful creature. They had only heard distant birds while in the ruins and the sound gave her hope that this ordeal was nearly over.
“We’ll stop once we get across that hill,” Ian announced as he halted the group. “The cave should be there. According to the map, it’s large enough for the horses, too. Should keep us safe from any dagbeasts.” He shifted in his saddle.
“Ian?” Marjordan said. “Will there be time for weapon training before dark?”
The warrior glanced at Cait, and she lowered her eyes. He hadn’t forgiven her, yet. “We should have a couple of hours.”
That seemed to please the healer.
Ian urged his horse on and the others followed silently behind.
They traveled toward the hill as the sun crept lower in the sky. Once on the other side of the mound, Cait breathed a sigh of relief. Ian located the cave with little trouble and they made camp. A nearby lake provided fresh water and the horses drank greedily.
As she sat by the water washing tubers, Cait studied Graypony. He seemed fine. No sign of weapon illness. Then she realized she had no idea how long such an ancient sickness would take to cause symptoms. Graypony was a gift from her father. She had raised him from a colt. How could she have been so stupid?
Marjordan sat next to her. “He looks healthy.”
She nodded and eyed Ianandy. The warrior was now speaking to Quin but he hadn’t said a word to her since the incident at Rotted City.
“I’m sorry, P-Marj.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately. “I’ve been stupid, just like Ian said.”
Marjordan took the tubers from her. “You’ve done some stupid things. That’s true. But you’re a smart girl, Cait. You’re also growing up. Only three years away from being a full-grown. You’re supposed to make mistakes, and I’m supposed to see that you learn from them.”
“Believe me, I have learned.” And she meant that.
“Then that’s all I can hope for. All any of us can wish for ourselves.”
She fought tears and glanced at Graypony. “I’ll never forgive myself if he dies.”
“Yes, you will. Eventually.” Marjordan pulled her closer. “But I don’t think you have to worry about that. The rock didn’t pierce his skin and he’s showing no sign of illness. I believe he’ll be fine.”
“I hope you’re right, P-Marj.”
“Ho, girl,” Ian said from behind them.
Cait jumped at his voice and snapped her head around to face him. “Yes, Warrior?”
“Get your sword. You need practice.” He gave her a stern look. Then his tanned face softened into a smile and familiar lines appeared around his eyes and lips.
Her heart suddenly felt light and she grinned back. She’d been forgiven.
Marjordan nudged her. “Better not disobey a warrior, girl. We’re still on the road, remember?” A smirk warmed her face.
“Yes, ma’am.” She jumped to her feet and went to find her sword.
Ian sparred with her until nighmeal and she seemed to have a better grasp of the moves he was teaching, despite her sore palms and aching muscles. After eating, the women bathed in the lake. There was enough light for the men to wash afterward.
Cait sat by the fire combing the damp, sun-lightened ends of her brown hair and looked toward the lake. Quinpatrik stood in waste-high water, scrubbing his bare chest. He didn’t seem to notice her. His muscles rippled with every movement and suddenly she felt hot. Her heart raced and she forced her eyes away from the lake. Marjordan and Whit sat nearby and she glanced at the two women. They were focused on each other as they chatted softly.
Her gaze drifted back to the lake. Quin was in up to his shoulders now, squeezing excess water from his hair. She had always liked him as a friend, had known him since childhood, but now that full-grown status grew closer for her, her mind often turned to mating. She’d never been kissed by a man in the exciting way. Sanction rules didn’t allow such behavior among children, even those of Caitlanna’s age. Of course, that didn’t stop girls and boys from trying. But bed relations between full-growns and children were strictly forbidden and harshly punished. Cait fought a sigh at that as she watched Quin’s muscular arms and back glistening in the water. When Marjordan stood, Cait brought her eyes to the comb in her hands.
“You men come out of that water before the light is completely gone!” Marjordan called toward the lake.
“Yes, Healer!” the two called back in unison.
Cait glanced up at her primary. Heat filled her face as the woman’s dark eyes studied her.
“You’re not a full-grown, yet, girl. You and Quin had better remember that.”
“P-Marj!” she protested. But Marjordan had seen her watching. Probably caught the lust in her eyes. She glanced at Whit but the warrior was busy at the cave entrance.
Marjordan crouched. “Your feelings are natural, Cait, but my job is to see you don’t act on them until you’re full-grown. I am your primary.” The woman took that job very seriously. Cait started to protest again but Marjordan stopped her with an upraised hand. “I know we had this talk a few years ago but the feelings become stronger the older you get. And I will make sure men keep their distance until your nineteenth birthday. I’ll have a talk with Quin if there’s a need.” She arched a brow.
“Please, don’t, P-Marj. There’s no need,” Caitlanna assured her. She couldn’t imagine her humiliation if Quin found out she had been watching him bathe, lusting after his body, wondering what he was like as a lover.
“Are you sure? Better to endure a bit of embarrassment today than to be caring for an
infant months from now.”
Heat filled her face again. “I won’t have sex, P-Marj. I was just looking,” she said almost inaudibly.
Marjordan smiled warmly. “Yes, you were.” She stood. “I’ll trust your judgment. For now.”
“I’ll use it wisely.” Cait lowered her eyes in obedience.
“Good.”
She was conscious to keep her gaze away from Quin the rest of the evening until they bedded down. Marjordan placed her blankets in a way that put some distance between Cait and Quin’s sleeping areas. The finder seemed not to notice anything out of the ordinary but Cait got the message quite clearly. She might not be full-grown but she was no child. Anger at her primary rose and she fought it down quickly. The last thing she wanted was to bring that kind of attention to herself.
The horses had been led to the far end of the cave, and the fire just outside the entrance would keep dagbeasts at bay. The group settled in for the night with Caitlanna taking first watch. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for a while anyway, so she offered. Ianandy had seemed pleased.
As she sat near the entrance and watched the crackling fire, she listened to the night. Ian snored slightly. One of the horses huffed. Insects buzzed and chirruped outside in the grasses and brush. Though the night brought cooler air than the day, the fire kept things quite warm where Cait sat and she loosened the laces of her tunic. Her hands were toughening, but she still had a couple of ripe blisters and she opened her palms to the air. Somewhere in the distance, a dagbeast howled. Suddenly, she was grateful for this cave and the fire that would keep her safe.
She glanced behind and studied the shadowy horses. Graypony still showed no signs of the ancient illness. Perhaps he would survive after all. She pushed the guilt back and her eyes fell on Quinpatrik’s form. The finder slept peacefully, and she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, wondering what it would be like to take him as a mate.