tilting it to sip. The taste was hard to describe. Nothing he had ever tried before. He blinked as a heat spread out from his belly.
“It’s also a kind of healing brew.” She sipped at her own. Another bowl? Where…
“Where are you getting these?”
She held up a little black satchel, attached to her wrist. “From here.”
Why didn’t I see that before? A magic satchel. “What else do you have stashed in there?”
She shrugged again. Sipping. “You know. A little of this, a little of that.”
Uh huh. Yeah. “That so?” He sipped again, eyeing her over the bowl. “I hate to tell you this tart, but–”
“Gennifer.”
He frowned. “Tart.” He smiled into her glower. “I hate to disappoint you or this Source of yours–”
“Not mine.”
“But…what?”
“It’s not my Source.”
“Then–”
“It’s the Source.” She looked at him, something was there, deep in her eyes. “It’s a cursed thing that has taken everything from me. Everything!” She tossed the rest of her soup into the grass, turning away to tuck the bowl back into the satchel.
A small sound let him know it had dropped in. He sipped his soup again, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Lost everything? He could relate.
When she turned back, her strange aqua eyes were swimming. “So it takes what it wants and expects everything in return and you…you just have to…” was she going to cry? “…you’ll see.”
He grunted at that. “I doubt it.”
I’ve already lost everything that matters. What else is there to take? My life? Please. No loss there.
He glowered at the bowl.
She reached for him, seeing his quick glare, she let her hand slowly return to her side. “It needs to reach its destination and it will sweep us along with it. Just like it did with the others.”
Others? He wanted to ask but didn’t.
“They were family. Friends. People I’ve met along the way.”
“I didn’t ask.” He snapped.
“I know. And you were not asking quite clearly.”
He opened his mouth and instead of any kind of rebuttal just sipped the soup again.
She smiled. “Irritating isn’t it?”
He looked at her, eyeing her. “Yes it is. Very.” He hoped she caught the meaning of that.
A quirk of her mouth showed that she did. “As irritating as you think I am, best get used to me. We–”
He handed her the empty bowl. “The next town is a few miles that way.” He pointed. “I’ll walk you out of the maze plains to there but–”
She shook her head. “I need to go that way.” She pointed east. “That is the way we will go.”
“Listen to me tart. There is no way out that way. No way at all.”
She frowned. “Gennifer! My name’s Gennifer you thick headed mule!” She stood up, moving for him.
He came to his feet, towering over her. “There is no way out that way, tart!” Without thinking, he lashed out as she continued toward him, pushing her to the ground.
“Oh ho! Look at the big man push down a little girl!” Mayla scolded. He froze, looking for her.
Mayla?
“Mule!” He couldn’t avoid the kick to his shin, worse yet, it was his injured leg.
Grunting he went down.
Knocked down by a little girl…how sad.
“Sad indeed, sweets.” Mayla said. Her voice was so close to him. So close. He looked up at the sky, past the little tart that was staring at him with watering eyes.
“Mayla?” He reached for the light blue sky. He just wanted to feel her skin. To touch her hair. To know that sharp, sweet smell that was her.
“Insane.” His eyes focused on the girl as she stood, staring at him. Tears shimmered but she made no sound. Her head was turned, looking at him with…was that pity? “By the Source… you’re insane.”
If she wanted to hear him deny it, she had a long wait. He dragged himself to his feet, glowering down at her hard enough to make her shake and back up, then spun on his heel and headed off down the hill.
Screw her.
He made it nearly a hundred paces before she caught up to him. “We need…to go…that way.” Why was she out of breath after that short run? No matter.
He kept walking. He knew where the town was and it would indeed let this little hell tart head east.
“Are you listening? The Source–” She yelped when he spun on her.
“To hells with you and your Source. The only way out is this way. If you’re going to follow, get behind me and shut the hell up.” Insane? He’d show her insanity. “BlahGrubgob able!!” He shook his head at her spit spraying to the sides. She just stared. Good. Let her.
Without another word he turned and walked on, smiling to himself.
“That wasn’t very mature.” Mayla whispered.
“Maybe not, but it should shut the little brat up.”
“Mayhaps. Still…she has suffered. You can see that. It wouldn’t hurt to act a bit–”
“Acting. That’s all it would be.”
“…did you cut me off?” Mayla asked all too softly.
Ah hell. “I’m…I’m so sorry. It’s just this kid is driving me–”
“Insane.” Mayla said at the same time as the tart. Their voices were nearly identical. He spun about, drawing a dagger. Trying to draw a dagger.
“Where’s my daggers?”
“Here.” She pulled them from her satchel. They appeared, one after the other. He took them, silently stashing them back where they belonged. He never let his eyes drift from hers.
“She looks so sad, sweets. So sad.” Mayla said. He nodded but did not say anything. Sadness? He knew that as well. More so than this little brat could. He stood motionless as she handed over the last dagger. He didn’t look away until she dropped her eyes, staring at the grass as it slowly tried to tie them down.
He stared. She continued to keep her eyes on the grass. It was not even noon yet and already his day had been bad. The sooner he got rid of her the better.
He turned and continued on his way. Wondering if she would keep up.
6
The day seemed to crawl by. His leg hurt. Badly. He was limping and no matter how he tried to cover it, he knew she saw this.
It was an awkward silence they traveled in. The world around them seemed just as silent. She followed a few steps behind him, not once mentioning her desire to head east.
Maybe she finally gets it? He glanced at her. She was still keeping her eyes down. Maybe not.
“Talk to her.” Mayla said.
Fine. “Once you are out of here, you can head east. But there is no way to get out of this maze by heading east right now.”
She looked at him, a small frown was there as she looked around. “This doesn’t look like a maze. I can see…” she trailed off at his sigh.
“That’s why so many die here, tart. No one can just blindly travel in here. If you don’t just wander around and starve to death, the grass will get you. Even if you have plenty of food and drink…the grass will get you. No sane person would come here.” He let his hand trail through the grass. His voice lowered. “The grass will get you.”
She snorted. “That explains why you’re here.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Yeah. Watch your lip tart. I don’t have to help you.
She frowned, her eyes looking around them. “Why are you out here? If it’s an empty land, a place for death, a place you know kills…why are you out here?”
Figures she would ask that. Better that than mocking him. Still, was it any of her business? Did it hurt to tell? “I want to be left alone. I’m here to be alone. And I was for a long time. People avoid this place. Hell, most animals avoid this place.”
“Yet I came right to you.” She stared at him then. He almost stumbled. Between his injured leg, sore shin and
the grass it was a close call. “The Source works in mysterious ways.”
Her blasted Source! “Look kid, I don’t–my blanket!” How could he have forgotten it!? Old Grommy would not be happy! He stopped, staring back at the hill. It didn’t look as far away as it really was. That was part of the trap this seemingly normal grass plain used on people.
The grass needed to feed on flesh. Luring something in here was not easy but keeping it here…well… that was much easier.
“Here.”
“What?”
She flicked the small satchel attached to her wrist. “I have it. I didn’t think you’d want it left behind. When you stormed away like you did, I packed everything in here.”
You little tart. You will not get on my good side. “Do not help me like that.”
“Why ever not?”
Why ever not? I can’t afford to get close to anyone.
Again.
Ever.
I can’t.
Without answering, he walked away.
She didn’t let up. “If this is so deadly dangerous, mule, how do you know your way out?”
“I just do.” He shrugged.
“How?”
He was getting annoyed. “I told you.”
“But how? Are you magic–”
“We already talked about that. No one here can use…use–” Staring into those strange eyes of hers, he remembered what she could do. How was it possible? “Where are you from? Exactly?”
She blinked slowly at him. Was she deciding what to tell him? “I told you. I’m from across the sea.”
Bah. He knew that much. “Can people on your side use magic?” How much land was there across the sea? How many people? He had never really thought on it. No one ever did that he knew of.
She bit her lip. “Well…” so she was a freak of nature there also? “Some could. We didn’t have this–what did you call it? Cleansing?”
“Yes.”
“We didn’t have that where I come
The Source Page 5