Firestone
Page 8
Sephonei flipped through her memory of The Bestiary; they were some type of chimeric hybrid, but which one? Sephonei was excited, but they were too far away for her to see clearly. She toed closer to the edge of the dock. Aha. She remembered: They were fauns. She saw the image in her mind. The Bestiary had described them as mischievous lovers of music. Was she going to meet them?
The three fauns looked defeated; they shook their fists at the stout man then disappeared into the forest. The man turned and walked to the dock area. He eyed the ship and waved, his pace speeding on route to the pier. Was that the Quartermaster?
Abil nudged by, knocking Sephonei off balance so she almost tumbled off the dock. She waved her arms and teetered forward then leaned back and caught her balance. The sea floor was lost in the depths of the blue water. She turned and glared at Abil. “Plucknuckler! Watch where you’re goin’ next time!”
He laughed as he hurried ahead. “Maybe you can find a flute at the Quartermaster’s lodge. It might be more useful than that lute strapped to your back.”
Ku-aya caught up to Sephonei and called out to Abil, “Leave her alone, Abil. Go meet the Quartermaster, and give ’em the list of supplies, yaa?”
Abil heaved his shoulders then snarled at Sephonei and winked at Ku-aya.
“Hurry up, boyo!” Ku-aya said.
Bored disdain returned to Abil’s face. He spun and stalked off the dock to greet the man Sephonei now knew was the Quartermaster. He didn’t look imposing at all. Quite the opposite. Hung over a frumpy tunic was a dark wool cloak; the frayed edges of the cloak tickled the ground below. Such a long cloak on such a short man made him look even rounder. His belly jiggled as he walked, and his moon face glistened with sweat.
Ku-aya stopped and stared intently at Sephonei. “You never finished your story. How did you escape the beetles in the cavern?”
Sephonei looked away. She thought of Harper and how she hadn’t been fast enough to save him. To save them all. Would she be fast enough to save her parents? Could she even find the Bloodstone? What if she couldn’t? “It’s nothin’.”
Ku-aya searched Sephonei’s face. “Don’t lie. I can tell when someone is lyin’, yaa?”
Ku-aya’s aura bubbled a deep green that became less saturated the farther it extended from her body. Sephonei huffed. Ku-aya had been hard on her, but Sephonei knew it was only because Ku-aya cared for her safety. Sephonei wasn’t ready for this journey. She still wasn’t sure why Sin had forced her to join the Crystal Hunters.
“When I played the lute, it bewitched the beetles. They… they became docile.” Sephonei winced as the last word left her mouth.
Ku-aya’s eyebrow shot up. Her aura flushed with a mixture of yellows that shifted to oranges. Sephonei read that as confusion, or maybe disbelief. Maybe there was an order to the shifting colors of the auras; she would learn to decipher them.
Ku-aya hummed skeptically.
Sephonei let out a long sigh. “I’m tellin’ the truth.”
Ku-aya twisted then headed towards the Quartermaster’s lodge. “Talk to the Quartermaster, get some gear, an’ get a new weapon from the lodge. At camp tonight, you’ll show me this ‘ability’ of yours.”
The shade provided by the tarps of the Quartermaster’s lodge were a relief to Sephonei after the searing heat of the journey to the mainland. The makeshift walls of the structure were a patchwork of different colored and textured materials that acted as separators or walls to the various stalls.
The tables were filled with an assortment of gear necessary for long journeys. To Sephonei’s amazement, everything was categorized.
She scanned the four tables and saw standard-issue Crystal Hunter gear. Or rather, what she assumed was Crystal Hunter gear, based on how Ku-aya and Abil were dressed: long, dark coats; black leather boots; and vests and shirts made to layer and provide comfort for any mission.
Rows of weapons, maps, and water pouches, and an assortment of jars and vials, lined the tables as far as the eye could see.
She didn’t know what she was looking for; Ku-aya didn’t specify what Sephonei should bring on their journey. Sephonei thought of Ku-aya and what she wore: a long coat, high boots, and a weapon. Sephonei already had fitted trousers and her sash. She didn’t want a weapon, but the mission may get dangerous, so she would keep an eye out for a small one—if it didn’t get in the way of her lute. She hadn’t needed one yet; maybe she could get away with not having one. If the lute could charm her opponents, wasn’t that better than a weapon that could kill?
There were more people in the market than Sephonei had expected. There were traders negotiating with the Quartermaster and his staff. They bartered and argued over price; it reminded Sephonei of home. Her heart sank at the thought, and her stomach growled. She missed her mother’s fresh baked flatbreads. A recognizable yeasty smell wafted from the next stall. She eyed the old toothless lady who sat behind a large clay oven. On top of the rough, red clay surface were freshly baked flatbreads. Sephonei stepped closer, closing her eyes. It was almost like she was home on the barge, waiting for her mother to set out a plate of hot baked bread.
Sephonei opened her eyes, and the old woman winked at her. “Where y’ofta? You be needing a bite t’eat, li’l offlander.”
Sephonei strained to understand the woman’s thick accent. “Ai. Your flatbreads smell good. Reminds me of home.”
The old woman gestured at the flatbreads with her chin. “Don’ be shy, li’l offlander. Take you some flats.”
Sephonei plucked a steaming flat from the top of the clay oven and nodded. “Thank you.”
She moved from table to table. The exotic smells of spices filled the air and became more saturated. Several stalls had small firepits cooking up local fares. They offered samples in hopes of a sale. Sephonei had nothing to trade and no coin. Ku-aya hadn’t explained how to get the gear. Did she just take it? Did the Order of the Sons pre-pay? Did Sin? She stopped occasionally when something caught her eye, but she tried not to linger in one spot.
“G’day. Wha’ do we ’ave ’ere?” A deep voice chuckled.
Sephonei turned and saw the man with the knotted black beard and bald head—the Quartermaster. He stood a head shorter than she did. His thick, stubby fingers rested on his belly. His eyes were beady and constantly scanned the surroundings. Sephonei could tell a merchant when she saw one. This man knew how to sell, and he accounted for everything. She would have to be cautious. Despite his friendly smile and appearance, there was something off about his aura that confused Sephonei and put her on guard.
Whatever it was, she didn’t sense immediate danger. She turned and continued to look at the wares on the table. “Good day, sir.”
The Quartermaster extended his hand in a friendly gesture. “Young Sephonei, is it? The new recruit? I’m Balin, the Quar’ermaster ’ere at Outpos’ Two.”
Sephonei accepted the handshake but thought for a second before she answered. The man spoke with such a thick Atlantean accent, she could barely make out the words he said. His deep scratchy voice didn’t help either.
Sephonei replied, “Ai, I’m the new Crystal Hunter.”
The Quartermaster chuckled. It wasn’t unpleasant. He seemed to be enjoying himself. He waddled ahead of Sephonei and picked up a pair of worn black boots. “These ’ere’ll fit nice.” He motioned to Sephonei and held the boots up for her to see.
Sephonei looked down at her tattered old leather slippers. She thought of all the walking ahead of her. “How much?”
The Quartermaster laughed, holding his belly as it jiggled. He looked her in the eye, then waited, tilting his head and squinting one eye.
When Sephonei remained silent, he said, “The ’igh Priest already paid in full. Ye can even ge’ a li’l bevvie ’n grub for the road.” His brow scrunched, and he leaned in, but Sephonei didn’t know how to play his game.
She shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head. “Ai… I’ll take them then.”
The man stopped at a table draped with long coats. He looked at her, scanning her up and down. Then he looked to the boots in his hands and lingered. Sephonei read his aura. A wash of green covered over a dull yellow. Sephonei smirked—he was color coordinating. She liked to color coordinate; her pink ribbon and sash complemented her aqua hair. Her mother liked to color coordinate too—the smirk fell from Sephonei’s face. She had to focus.
Balin handed her the boots and a long dark purple coat. His eyebrows raised and he smiled.
Sephonei took the coat and put it on. It was heavy and stiff. She stretched her arms out. “This is too heavy.”
Balin laughed. “’Tis the smallest I’ve got. Any smaller, and you’ve got a vest. Any Crystal Hunter worth their coin needs a good long coat.” He carried on, rummaging through the gear.
Sephonei would have to get used to it. She kicked off her worn leather slippers and tugged up the knee-high boots. They were snug.
Balin handed her pink cloth wraps. “Wrap ’em ’round your boots. ’Specially at the top where your trousers be tuck’n in.”
Sephonei looked at the wraps. They were nice, and they even matched her ribbon and sash, but what where they for? “Why?”
Balin’s face turned serious. “If you move through swampy terrain, an’ tha’s more than likely, them wraps’ll save you some wet toes. Nothin’ turns a mission sour faster than wet feet.”
Sephonei nodded and wrapped the sashes around her boots. She paid special attention at the top like Balin instructed.
At least now she looked like a Crystal Hunter, but she still needed to figure out how to be one.
The Quartermaster eyed her. “Where y’ofta? ’S important tha’ I know. Can’t equip you proper if I don’ know where y’ofta.”
Sephonei scanned the market for Ku-aya but couldn’t find her. Could she trust this guy?
“Ah…” She stalled.
When she thought about it, she didn’t really know where she was going. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t answer. Where was the Land of Darkness? She looked to the table then to Balin. “I don’t know.”
She reeled inside. She shouldn’t have said anything.
Balin raised an eyebrow and turned. “Well, at leas’ the road’ll be mostly clear for ye…”
Sephonei followed behind and asked, “What do you mean ‘clear’?”
Without turning, Balin said, “’Bout a week ago, a ship full o’ Crusaders ported at these very docks. They were headin’ east. Seems to me ’at’s where Ku-aya said ye was headin’.”
Sephonei thought of the Crusaders and wondered what they wanted on the mainland. The rumors from the merchant guild were that although Crusaders were nice enough in Atlantea, it was another story on the mainland. Once, one of her father’s land traders told her he had seen a platoon of Crusaders clear out a whole valley of mainlanders. Sephonei shuddered at the thought.
She moved to the next stall. It had rows of shelves, carrying all kinds of weapons that were organized by type and function. Wooden shelves of melee weapons lined the back of the tent; there were blunt clubs, batons, and even some metal staffs. They didn’t interest Sephonei. Balin stopped in the center of the armory stall, extended his hand, and waved it across the selections. “Anythin’ meet yer fancy?”
Sephonei scanned the shelves. Her eyes moved to the range weapons then to the shelves marked “specialty weapons.” Balin met her eyes then looked to the specialty shelf.
“Ai, good choice,” he said.
He marched to the shelf and lifted a large, handheld, metallic harpoon. It resembled Abil’s crossbow save for the bow at the end. In its place was a three-pronged hook that looked razor-sharp.
Sephonei thought of where she would store the weapon. It was too big to holster to her belt. She noticed it had a shoulder strap. Then she thought of the weight of that thing strapped to her back. Where would she store her lute? If she could control the lute and be fast enough to play it…
“I’ll pass.” She decided her lute was more important. Besides, both Abil and Ku-aya had weapons. She didn’t even know how to use the thing. Or any other weapons, for that matter. She had never swung a sword, let alone shot a harpoon.
“Ye’ll pass?” Balin said. “Wha’ ye mean? All Crystal Hunters need a weapon. ’S procedure.” He looked around as if he feared someone was watching. “I can’ let ye leave ’ere without outfitting ye. ’S me job.”
Sephonei shook her head. “I won’t be needing it.”
Balin shook his head and tapped the harpoon several times. He stood for a long moment then placed it back on the rack. His eyes traced over a table in the corner; he moved to it and picked up a small, intricate dagger, showing it to Sephonei.
Sephonei winced; the thought of slicing or piercing flesh made her shiver, and a foul taste washed over the back of her throat. An image of her parents kneeling before Sin as he loomed over them popped into her mind, giving her an even worse taste in the back of her mouth.
She took the dagger in her hands and balanced it in her palm; it was light and had a primal beauty to it. It would easily slide into her sash, and maybe she wouldn’t even have to use it. “Ai. I’ll take this one.”
Balin smiled and gave a slight nod.
She tucked it into her sash and walked over to the last tarped area; a dyed leather satchel caught Sephonei’s eye. The purple leather had compartments held in place with intricate silver buckles that locked together. She thought of her sketchbook and charcoal—they would fit nicely, and she could store her rations in the bag.
“I’ll take this.” She held up the satchel and turned it to see all sides. She removed the sketchbook and charcoal from her sash and stuck them in the satchel. That felt better already—the book had irritated her side when she walked. She slung the satchel on her back and moved on.
The back of the Quartermaster’s lodge was open to the forest’s edge. Cool air flowed in, and the rhythmic flap of the tarp as it surfed the wind made it hard to hear Balin when he spoke.
Balin moved closer. “Did ye hear me, li’l miss?”
Sephonei shook her head. “I didn’t catch it.”
“I’ll put together a wee survival kit and bit o’ rations fer yer trip.” He pointed to the forest’s edge. “’S Blackwood Forest. Ye don’ wan’ to get lost in there.” He turned and rummaged through the packages on the rations table.
Sephonei scanned the forest’s edge. There was a shaded path that led east. Why didn’t she want to get lost in there? That’s where he sent the fauns. She couldn’t see far down the winding path, but she heard a low rumble that seemed to echo from the tree-lined tunnel. She turned her head and directed her ear to the sound, walking closer to the edge and listening.
It was evening, and the setting sun cast long shadows, making it hard to see. Mist rose from the forest floor, blurring her view further. She swiveled to look at the coast where the ship was moored. The wind picked up, and the tall ship creaked with each wave. The sandy beach became a haze as the soft sand blew.
The rumbling intensified. She strained to hear more, pressing her ear back toward the forest and focusing on the sound.
She turned to Balin. “Where does this path
lea—”
It happened quickly. The rumbling became so loud, she felt the ground shake under her feet. She turned and saw three silhouettes on horseback charging down the path.
A dust storm surrounded them—in their wake, the debris coated the trees. The thunderous wave of dust knocked Sephonei to the ground. Luckily, she fell to the side and avoided being trampl
ed. The group of riders broke through the edge of the forest and came to a halt at the entrance to the Quartermaster’s lodge. A wave of heavy dust hung in the air.
As the dust cleared, Sephonei realized she had been wrong. The riders were not on horseback; the riders were the horses—of sorts. Another chimeric hybrid. She had seen two hybrids in one day—in one hour even! First the fauns, now this… or them. What were they? She scanned her memory for an image out of The Bestiary. They looked like centaurs, but they were different. Instead of their bottom halves being like a horse, they were striped and smaller than the workhorses Sephonei was used to. She had heard from merchant traders about some of the exotic species that lived on the mainland. According to the traders, large herds of animals ran free here. One species in particular had caught their eye. A small, black and white striped horse the locals called “sebras.”
The top halves of the riders were humanoid. Their facial features were wide and broad, more horse-like. The black stripes of the sebra-half of the creatures carried on and patterned their dark human skin; it was difficult to tell where sebra and human met.
Balin dropped the rations on the table beside her before he hustled by. “Ai, Semessa, back so soon from over yon?”
He waddled his way to the group like he knew them.
The largest of the three moved to Balin and nodded her head. She was magnificent. Her long, dark hair was braided and wrapped with some type of brown twine; it fell just past her shoulders. A wooden bow was strapped to her back. Tattered hides wrapped snugly around the top half of her body. Colorful beads, leather pouches, and other trinkets hung from leather straps wrapped around her waist. Her dark skin was painted or etched with light-colored markings.
Balin looked at the creatures then scanned the forest. “Where’re the perytons?”