“How far do you think the tunnel runs?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Fetching a torch from the third horse, he lit it before the lamp gave out entirely. Taking the lead again, he continued down the passage. Now and then he tipped his light to look at the walls, but they remained a uniform rough gray. This part of the cave must have been natural, though in places he saw the scars of picks and axes that widened the way.
“Aren’t you going to ride?”
“When I’m tired.”
The water took a long time to reach. They didn’t talk. Sherakai stopped at the edge of the waterway. A good twenty feet across, it was only a few inches deep. Jumbled rocks littered the bed to either side of the path. He lifted the torch and peered into the gloom overhead. Moisture on the ceiling reflected his light, but the ceiling was higher.
“Is it safe to cross?”
He looked over the horses. The third one made its way to the edge to drink, and he let his go, too. If magical danger lurked, they’d have stayed back. The same was true if the rock around them was weak and might collapse any moment. He could have sensed danger if not for the bleakstone.
Crouching upstream, he bent to drink.
Magic flooded through him so hard and fast it made his head swim. Both hands crashed into the water to keep him from falling.
“Kai!”
He jerked back as if he’d been burned, and the magic disappeared. He clutched at his chest. The bleakstone made a reassuring lump beneath his clothes.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
He had not seen Mimeru dismount, but she put her arm around him and helped him move away from the water.
“I don’t know. Yes.” Backwards. He wiped wet hands on the front of his tunic. “There’s something wrong with the bleakstone. I shouldn’t be able to feel the magic at all while I’m wearing it, but I keep getting—whispers. Except for now. It was so strong…”
“You bent over to drink. Is it just moving away from your skin?”
He blinked at her. Slow color rose in his cheeks, thankfully hidden in the gloom. “That must be it. Do you have the strap from the door?” The strap we made from the dead man’s shirt. While she fetched that from her pack, he stripped off his quilted tunic and the shirt beneath.
“Lucky the torch didn’t go in the river.” She picked it up from where he’d tossed it and jammed it between the rocks. “Stars and saints,” she gasped. “Your back!”
Pulling his clothes off had torn the cut open. It burned like a brand.
“Come sit over here. Let me see how bad it is.”
A stubborn and admittedly desperate part of him wanted to fix the bleakstone and keep going. The childish, frightened part of him urged him to go to her. He kept his hand over the bridle-turned-medallion and sat on another rock with his back to the torch.
Mimeru wet a piece of cloth and washed the wound as gently as she could. “Did this happen in the stable?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes to keep from crying out. “It wasn’t important,” he said between breaths.
She heaved a sigh and moved away. He hunched over his knees.
“I have a small kit. You’d best come back to the water and let me wash that properly. It will hurt like blazes. Better that than having manure from that pitchfork sit in the cut and fester.”
He ended up face down on the rocks, crying silent tears while Mimeru scrubbed ruthlessly. He hadn’t thought her capable of such remorselessness. She didn’t stop until she was satisfied she’d got the filth out, and he was certain half his back had gone missing.
“Drink this,” she said.
Pushing himself up, he accepted the flask and took a swig. He nearly coughed it out again in surprise. “Te’hai!” Another drink sent the smooth, rich fire of alcohol blazing through his chest and warming his belly.
“A sip,” Mimeru said sternly. She let him take another before corking the flask and setting it down beside her. “The last thing we need is you getting tipsy.”
“No, the last thing is getting caught.”
“The first leads to the second.” She produced needle and thread. “There you go,” she said in a tender voice eons later. She brushed his hair back from his face and wiped his damp cheek. “You should rest awhile, but you don’t look very comfortable and there’s nothing but rocks everywhere.”
“No. Thank you, Mimeru,” he rasped. His fist and his mouth hurt from pressing one to the other. Sitting up lit his back on fire all over again. “We have to keep going. We’ve been here too long already. Help me fasten the bleakstone so it stays against my skin.” The woman’s words echoed in his ears. Once you are clear, you must not stop. It is not just your life that depends on your freedom, Sherakai.
The cloth strip, fastened to the rings on the bridle, passed beneath the cut on his back. It hurt.
“I agree,” she said as she tied a knot. “But I don’t want you killing yourself on the way home, either.”
He shoved himself to his feet and reached for his clothes. The cold had his teeth chattering. “I’d rather die than go back.” The scrape of fabric over his wound made him gasp.
“Kai,” she started.
“No,” he cut her off, gathering determination to him like the aro he missed. “I will do anything to get home. Anything, Mimeru.” He grabbed the torch, caught the lead mare’s bridle, and splashed across the stream. The other horses followed, and Mimeru had to run to catch her mount.
“Give me the torch,” she demanded, “and get on that horse. If it’s the only rest you get, then so be it. Do not argue with me.”
He considered ignoring her, but the only way they’d make good speed was on horseback. He tipped his head in agreement. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter 84
Another door protected the exit to the passage. It had no secret mechanism to open it, but nature had warped the frame. It would only open so far.
Squinting at the gray day beyond, Sherakai slipped out. Snow carpeted the ground and the trees, falling steadily. Stillness lay over the world. The scuff of boot on rock offended his ears. He judged it to be early still, but with the sun hidden he had no way to be sure beyond the unreliable growl of his belly. The cave let out into the forest, and he turned around to survey the hillside behind them. They’d descended as they traveled, so the keep must be higher and to the… west. He shook his head.
“What is it?”
“Without the magic, my sense of direction is off. Tanoshi is northeast. We can’t take the road. A straight line is shorter, but obvious. Too easy to find us that way, especially where our path comes close to the road.” He felt in his pockets for the map and unfolded it. It was remarkably detailed. The woman had put circles around critical landmarks. A line led around the small lake, and another straight toward Tanoshi with a question mark in the middle of it. “We need to go past the lake.”
“But that will take us a long way out of the way through rugged country.”
He nodded, chewing his lip. “Our choices are ‘long’ or ‘fast.’”
“Going past the lake is not making best use of the Indimi-o. If we can get them out of the tunnel, we can take the road until it angles sharply, here.” She pointed to the place on the map. “We will press them as hard as we can. No one runs like they do. Then we can cut overland straight home.”
The passage north through the hills might slow the Indimi-o badly. Terrain would slow them. If the snow continued, it would slow them even more. At some point, they were going to become easy targets for the men Jansu Chiro would send after them. He didn’t doubt it for a moment. Their best choice was speed.
Sherakai shoved the map back into his pocket. “Let’s see about freeing the horses, then.” He braced his feet against the rock wall and put his shoulder to the wood. He wondered how many trees had given up their lives to make a panel a good ten inches thick. He pushed, slowly widening the space. Wood
groaned. He clamped his teeth to keep from doing the same when he felt his sister’s careful stitches pop. Stones caught beneath the door scraped. Mimeru, too, put her back to the task, though Sherakai doubted her frailty did any more than lend moral support.
Twice he stepped back to check their progress, then got right back up again. As he forced another inch, he tried to think of a way they could use the power of the Indimi-o to help. When he could move it no further, he brought the mare close to the door. “Can you push?” he asked her.
She tossed her head and shifted unhappily.
“Come. Try,” he begged. “Here, you can get your head out and put your shoulder to the edge. You can do it, my beauty. We need it open a little further so you and your sisters can come out. You don’t want to be stuck in the cave, do you?”
Outside, Mimeru caught the mare’s bridle. “Walk on,” she said, as if merely guiding the horse out of a stall.
The horse retreated.
Mimeru pulled back. “I thought you were smart!” she cried. “If you don’t help, we’re all going to die. Do you understand? We’ll die!”
The mare tossed her head. Mimeru lost her grip and stumbled to the ground, where she sat with her face in her hands.
Sherakai leaned against the door, sifting through the available choices. As if there were any. After a moment or two, he went to the mare to take off her tack.
“What are you doing?”
“Maybe she can squeeze through.”
“Or maybe she’ll get stuck.”
He heaved the saddle to the ground, then stood there with his hands on his knees, eyes closed, back burning. The mare extended her nose to sniff at him. The other two crowded her.
“You’re right,” he said at last, reaching for the mare’s face to murmur an apology. “I’m sorry I brought you here, but I am grateful for your help. I don’t know if any people will find you here. If you go back, maybe you can kick the doors down. They’re not so thick as this one.” Without the magic he couldn’t put that image in her head. He sighed as he rubbed her ear, angry and sad.
Untying his pack, he put it with the gear at the side of the passage. He fetched his sister’s cloak from the other saddle, and a torch for each of them. Then he picked the packs up again and started walking.
Mimeru hurried after him. Tears streaked her face, but she said not a word. They had hardly moved out of sight of the door before a din of crashing and whinnying came to them, harsh and loud in the snowy silence.
Sherakai dropped their things to run back, fear clashing with hope. Not wanting anyone to hear him, he didn’t dare call out, but rushed to the doorway. He found the lead mare rearing up to strike at the jammed door.
“No!” he said as loud as he dared.
She danced back and slammed her forefeet onto the floor. Stone cracked.
Sherakai winced, worried for her legs. “Easy, easy, my lady.” Keeping his voice soothing and gentle, he approached the opening.
“Kai, be careful…” Mimeru warned behind him.
He slipped inside. The other horses milled restlessly behind the mare. “Change your mind, did you?” he asked.
She nipped at him.
“Hey, now. Don’t blame me for your stubbornness.” Crouching, he ran his hands over her forelegs. Nothing seemed obviously damaged, but only time would tell. With a pat to her shoulder, he straightened. “If you ladies are coming, we need to be quick about it. Put your shoulder here like I showed you.” He patted the edge of the door, and showed her. The mare moved closer. Reluctance showed in every line of her body, so he kept his hands on her and talked her through the motion he needed. With his own shoulder against the door and his hand on her, the two of them pushed. Great muscles strained tremendously—until the door gave a little more.
“Good! That’s good!” He let her rest briefly, then coaxed her to try again. It astonished him how she trembled with the effort and how she pressed on in a task completely foreign to her. The wood groaned as she slowly propelled it outward.
“I think that’s far enough, Kai.” Mimeru’s voice drifted through the opening.
“Stop,” he said, and pushed the mare back so he could see. She huffed and shook out her glorious mane.
The space she’d made would allow the horses through. “Wonderful!” Impulsively, he threw his arms around the mare’s neck. She was having none of that and tossed her head up to free herself.
“Sorry! So sorry.” He grinned anyway, enormously proud of her. “You are brilliant. I knew you were. Ru, scoot in here and get the saddle off your mount.” While she did that, he coaxed the others through. Still a narrow opening, it required much shoving, grunting, and indignation before the three were freed. He apologized again as he re-saddled them, but they must have realized they were in for a run—and the Indimi-o loved to run more than anything in the world.
Helping Mimeru mount, he caught a look at her face. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Pale and thin-lipped, she settled herself more comfortably in the saddle. “It’s been an awfully eventful day, and we’ve only just started it. How’s your back?”
“Hurts like the waters of the Abyss were poured on it.” He grinned up at her, unrepentant, and pulled the stirrup leather tight.
She frowned. “I don’t like the look in your eyes, and you’re flushed.”
“Work will do that to a man.” Snapping his fingers at his own mount, he led the way to where he’d dropped their packs.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for you to be a man yet. I love the boy rather a lot.”
His smile faded. “Too late now.” He turned his back to her so she wouldn’t see the pain on his face when he pulled himself into the saddle.
“Oh, Kai…”
“I will try to be a man you can tolerate.” Clicking to the mare, he started her off at a smart trot. For once he was glad he couldn’t read the weight of emotion hanging in the air.
Chapter 85
From his vantage point atop a low hill, Sherakai had no trouble seeing the whirlwind of white in the valley behind them. The skies remained heavily overcast, but the snow had stopped. The countryside was painted white. It hadn’t been much of a storm, to his way of thinking, and it was just as well. The horses had made good time on the frozen road in spite of the snowfall. A little wind swirled the snow enough to cover their tracks. What point that served escaped him; only one road led away from Nemura-o pera Sinohe. At least it made it harder for anyone following them to see where they left the road. Sherakai spent precious minutes concealing their passage anyway.
The whirlwind should have continued northwest on the road. Instead, it seemed to be gaining on them.
“What is it?” Mimeru asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. The wind, maybe.”
“It’s not the wind. It’s following us.”
He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice. “Yes.”
For four days they’d pressed on, only stopping to allow the horses short rests. Weather and terrain slowed them. If it were summer, if the skies were clear, if they kept to the road, they’d be home by now.
They slept in the saddle, scraping by on the meager provisions in their packs. Time and again, he’d come close to building a fire. Not for himself, although he would have hovered as close to it as a moth to a candle, but for Mimeru. She shivered constantly in spite of a pair of quilted tunics, her cloak, and two blankets. Skin that matched the snow had taken on a grayish cast. Two more days, maybe less. If they were lucky. If the Indimi-o kept up their speed.
Sherakai jogged alongside the horses as much as he rode. Fear and dread kept him going, but he was exhausted. The strain of constant motion had begun to take a toll on the magnificent animals, too. Mimeru’s suffering drew harsh lines in her face and smudges under her eyes. She could barely walk when she dismounted. He related to that all too well. He hadn’t ridden in months, and his time in the saddle didn’t do his legs or his backside any good.
“Magic?” Mimeru aske
d, still watching the whirlwind.
“Or horses,” he supposed. “A dozen of them might kick up that much snow.”
“If it’s horses, we will outpace them. They started after we did, and none can match the Children of the Wind.”
He nodded and put his arm around her. Neither of them ventured a guess about what they’d do if it were a mage. What could they do? He put his hand over his chest where the bleakstone sat against his skin. It disconnected him from the magic, but would it protect him from a magical attack?
“We haven’t so far to go now. We’re going to make it, Kai. We will.”
He turned them to head back down the hill. “Let’s make a fire, Ru, here at the bottom. Just enough to warm up a bit.”
“That sounds like heaven, but you know we can’t.”
The crunch of snow beneath their feet sounded painfully loud in the winter quiet. The white stuff covered their feet, loose and powdery. A good wind would hide their trail, but they had only eddies of wind swirling the snow around. Sherakai let out a breath that hung in the air before him.
Mimeru clung to his arm as they made their way to the Indimi-o . The horses had their noses to the ground, pushing snow aside to browse. “You’ve been so withdrawn. I’m worried about you.”
“It’s this thing.” He thumped his chest. “It’s hard.”
“Can you take it off now?”
“I dare not. Without it, I’m like a beacon to him.”
“Does it matter? He knows where we’re going.”
The horses lifted their heads as the pair approached. One lingered to grab a few more mouthfuls of winter grass, but the others came to greet them. Sherakai touched each of them and spoke quietly, thanking them and encouraging them.
“I don’t know,” he said at last. “Truthfully, speed is our only chance. If being unable to find me with his magic makes things the least bit difficult for him, then perhaps it will be enough.”
Blood and Shadow (The Mage's Gift Book 1) Page 48