She thought about making a light, but decided against it. If she heard anything big approaching, that would be the time for it. She circled the camp again. What exactly was she supposed to do? Could she sit by the fire and watch from there, or should she continue pacing the camp’s perimeter? She thought about asking Dianthe, but decided the woman was probably asleep already and shouldn’t be disturbed. Besides, walking eased the aches as she stretched and warmed her muscles.
The blister on her toe was more annoying than it had been the day before. She needed to pad her boot with extra socks or something, or it would be awful during tomorrow’s journey. Today’s journey. She pulled out her pocket watch and squinted at its face. Just after four o’clock. These early days of true summer, dawn would come around six. With five people to split the hours of night between, standing watch wasn’t so hard. She’d probably have been all right taking an earlier watch. What had Alaric said? Something about being exhausted? She hadn’t been that tired.
And yet…he’d grudgingly complimented her, though not to her face. Maybe she stood a chance of impressing him. She scowled. She didn’t care about impressing him. It wasn’t as if she was likely to work with him again.
A crack rang out through the darkness, someone or something stepping on a dry branch. Sienne froze. It had come from her left, some distance beyond the camp. She strained to see movement in that direction. What now? At what point did she sound the alarm? If she woke everyone over nothing, how humiliating that would be.
Another crack, this one closer. Sienne took a few steps in that direction and made a light. If something out there was coming for them, seeing it coming was worth the risk of giving it something to aim for. The wan light, not much brighter than a half-moon, lit up the campsite and cast odd shadows on the tents. It played over the nearest tree trunks, steady and cold as winter.
Sienne covered her mouth to hold in a shriek. Eyes, several pairs of eyes, gazed back at her from the scrub beneath the trees. They were low to the ground and gleaming green-yellow with the odd reflective glint of a cat’s eyes. She took a step forward. They didn’t move.
Sienne swallowed. It might just be animals. Or it could be something worse. She knew about the creatures who lived in the Empty Lands north of Beneddo, how some of them were ordinary animals altered by the magic thrown around during the wars of the before time. More frightening were the ones that had been deliberately made by wizards of that time. This wasn’t the Empty Lands, but it was unlikely those creatures knew or cared about human-drawn boundaries.
She reached out with her invisible fingers and rustled the bushes. The eyes blinked out, and she heard the movement of half a dozen small bodies running away, rustling the bushes harder than she was. She let out a relieved sigh. Just animals. She wished she knew more about wildlife to make a guess as to what kind.
She went back to circling the camp. It took her a moment to realize why everything was so bright. Swiftly, she extinguished her light and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Far in the distance, another light gleamed.
It winked out almost immediately, but it was unquestionably a light. Not a lantern or a flame, but a magical light like her own. Sienne stood still, waiting for it to reappear. Nothing happened.
She hesitated, then made for the larger tent. A magical light in the forest might be anything, but it was certainly cause for alarm. She thought briefly about waking Dianthe, but that was the cowardly way, and Dianthe would almost certainly wake Alaric anyway.
The men were shadowy lumps inside the tent. She grabbed the feet of the biggest lump and shook them. “Alaric. Wake up.”
The big man sat up swiftly. “What?”
“I saw a light. A wizard’s light.”
She backed up as Alaric emerged, barefoot and bare-chested, from the tent. His skin was almost as pale as the light dun canvas tents. “Where?”
She took his hand and pointed him in the right direction. “It’s gone now, and it was a ways away, but it was bright enough that I saw it through the trees.”
“You’re sure you didn’t imagine it?”
His straightforward inquiry somehow didn’t offend her. “Positive.”
He released her and stood with his hands on his hips. “And you saw no other motion.”
“Just some…I don’t know what they were, but ordinary animals.”
He was silent so long she began to be impatient. She managed not to say anything. Finally, Alaric said, “It might be a wisp. Those shed a cold light like yours. Or it might be another scrapper team.”
“Is that bad?”
“It’s not good. If someone’s following us…we don’t need another team sniffing around our find. Dianthe can check it out in the morning.”
“Not right now?”
“She’d just stumble around in the dark.”
“I could adjust her eyes.”
“No.”
The curt, short syllable startled Sienne into saying, “Shouldn’t that be up to her?”
Alaric let out a long breath. Then, in a tense tone that told Sienne he was hanging on to his temper with both hands, he said, “Even if she could see in the dark, it would take her at least an hour to investigate, probably more, and if she did find something, she might not be able to tackle it on her own. By that time, it would be full light, and we’d lose the element of surprise, since none of the rest of us are capable of moving silently. And don’t, for the love of Sisyletus, tell me you have a spell that will let us move silently. Not everything can or should be solved by magic.”
His face was a pale smudge high above her. Biting back a harsh retort, she said, “You brought me along to do wizardry. Why won’t you let me help?”
“We need the shrinking spell. That’s help enough.”
She was either going to hit him or burst into tears. “Fine. I’ll keep an eye out for that light, and if it gets closer, I’ll scream. That should be enough, don’t you think?”
“Go back to bed. I’ll finish your watch.”
“I’m perfectly capable of staring into the darkness, thanks.”
“I’m not going to fall back asleep.”
“Then lie on your back and stare at the tent roof. I don’t need your pity.”
“It’s not pity. You can use the rest.”
Sienne summoned the light directly in Alaric’s face, making him squint. “All right,” she said. “You can either avoid me because I’m a wizard, or you can treat me like a liability because I’m inexperienced, but I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with both. So take your pick.”
Alaric glared down at her. “Last night when we made camp, you looked like death on two legs,” he said. “You’re no good to any of us if you wear yourself to collapse. It’s my job to make sure everyone in this team is at their peak, and in your case, that means getting plenty of rest while your body adjusts to the demands you’re putting on it. I told Perrin the same thing before he took his watch—or did you think it was coincidence he also got an uninterrupted night’s rest?”
Sienne gaped at him. “For what it’s worth,” Alaric went on, “you’re doing much better than I thought you might. You didn’t need to ride Button, for one, and you haven’t said one word of complaint. I’m hard on you because anything else is an insult to your capabilities.”
“I…thank you,” Sienne said, stunned.
Alaric turned away. “Go ahead and finish your watch. Let me know if you see the light again.” He ducked into the tent, and she heard him rustling around, then there was nothing but the crickets and the wind.
Sienne walked slowly around the campsite. So Alaric wasn’t as disdainful of her as she’d thought. True, he still hated wizards, and he didn’t fully trust her magic, but he thought of her as…what? Not an equal, but someone with the potential to become such. It embarrassed her that his approval warmed her heart. He’s bigoted and full of himself, she thought, but it was hard to stay angry with him when he’d so straightforwardly complimented her. If she
could get him to overcome his prejudice against wizards, they might even become friends. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought.
When there was enough light that Sienne could see her fingers in front of her face, she woke Dianthe, and the two of them stirred up the fire and began making porridge. With Alaric not present, Sienne felt comfortable using magic to light the fire and summon water. Dianthe showed her how to measure out the grain and stir it in a little at a time so it wouldn’t get lumpy. Sienne considered accelerating the cooking process by heating the water herself—she could warm or cool water, just not to boiling or freezing—but decided not to risk ruining breakfast until she was more comfortable with cooking. She contented herself with producing water for coffee, which she didn’t care for but seemed, as far as Dianthe was concerned, to be essential.
Alaric emerged from the tent a few minutes before the porridge was done, pulling his shirt on over his head. “Did you tell her about what you saw last night?” he asked Sienne.
“No, I was distracted. Sorry.”
Alaric shrugged this off. “We might have some hangers-on,” he told Dianthe. “Off that way—is that right?”
Sienne nodded. “I saw a wizard’s light last night, but—”
“I’ll take a look,” Dianthe said, and headed off into the trees.
Alaric picked up the spoon and gave the porridge a stir. “I hate porridge,” he muttered. “But eggs don’t travel well, and bacon goes bad in this heat.” He paused. “That was to give you time to tell me how there’s magic for that.”
It startled a laugh out of Sienne. “Not to my knowledge,” she said. “But there might be wizardry to keep bacon fresh. If I cast invulnerability on an egg…well, you see the problem.”
“I do.”
Kalanath ducked out of the tent, looking much fresher than Alaric, whose short blond hair was mussed and whose eyes were a little puffy. He nodded to the two of them, picked up his staff from where it leaned against the tent, and headed off into the forest to the left of where Dianthe had gone. “Morning exercise,” Alaric said. “I wish he’d do it where we can see. His fighting style is supposed to be unique.”
“Is it a religious thing?”
“I don’t think so.” He gave the pot another stir, then picked up a bowl, filled it, and handed it to Sienne before taking another for himself. Startled at his courtesy, Sienne found a spot on the ground and ate. It was a little gluey, but otherwise not bad for a first attempt.
Alaric sat nearby, almost companionably. If he noticed the glueyness, he didn’t bring it up. Still, Sienne felt uncomfortable at the silence. She wished Dianthe had waited long enough to eat.
A loud yawn from the men’s tent made them both look back. Perrin stuck his head out, his dark hair flopping forward into his face. “I will sacrifice any limb you like for coffee,” he groaned.
“The water’s boiling,” Sienne said. Perrin crawled forward, the very picture of a man dying of thirst. She took pity on him to the extent of showing him where the coffee was, and caught Alaric looking at them both, a wry smile on his lips. She felt a moment of perfect amity with him. No doubt it wouldn’t last, but for the moment, they were in harmony.
Perrin fumbled about with the coffee, which was pre-ground—Dianthe had said something about how only effete snobs brought coffee grinders into the wilderness—and finally produced a steaming cup, which was so aromatic Sienne had to remind herself that the taste was too bitter for her unless it was seventy percent cream. Perrin drank his black and unfiltered with a generous measure of brandy mixed in, which disgusted Sienne, but to each his own.
Alaric made a cup of coffee too, but didn’t drink it, just left it sitting beside the fire to steep. Just as he was draining off the dregs, Dianthe appeared and dropped heavily to sit beside him. “My hero,” she said as Alaric handed her the cup. She drank deeply, sighed, and added, “I can quit any time I want.”
“Sure you can,” Alaric said. “What did you find?”
She took another drink. “Not much. I didn’t see evidence of another team camping anywhere near, but there also weren’t any wisps in the vicinity. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s slightly more likely it was a wisp, but that could just be me not wanting to admit someone’s following us.”
“Maybe I was wrong,” Sienne said. “It might have been my imagination.”
“That’s possible, too,” Dianthe said. “But we want to err on the side of paranoia, in this business. If someone’s following us, we’ll want to take precautions.”
“I might be able to do something about that,” Perrin said. His eyes were closed and he had his coffee cup close to his face, but his voice was strong. “Seeing what is hidden is by way of being a specialty of Averran’s. I will petition him for a blessing of that nature.”
“Then the rest of us will begin striking camp,” Alaric said, setting his bowl down and rising. “Take your time.”
Sienne quickly finished her porridge and went to pack her things. It didn’t take long. With a glance for permission at Dianthe, she rolled up the other woman’s bedroll and tackled the tent poles. The tent came down more easily than it had gone up, in a tangle of canvas and rope Sienne was sure she’d never get untangled. She dragged the poles away and stepped back to look at the canvas. How had Dianthe done it?
“That’s a good start,” Alaric said. Sienne looked up to find the big man watching her. His tent, naturally, was already neatly collapsed and bundled up. “If you clear away the ropes first, it leaves the canvas half folded already. Then you just keep folding.”
“Oh,” Sienne said. She lifted one side and carefully brought it to meet the other. Alaric turned away. She felt a moment’s irritation that he wasn’t going to help her, but it didn’t last long. She wanted him to treat her as an equal, didn’t she? And she was beginning to see the value of his approach. She already felt more confident doing it herself.
She left the bundled tent for Alaric to load onto Button—that was something she really was bad at—and saw Kalanath had returned and was placidly eating porridge, and Perrin had finished his coffee and was sitting cross-legged beside the fire, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes still closed. His hair hung down in strands concealing his face, but his chest rose and fell in a peaceful, meditative rhythm. Sienne noticed a loose pile of thin, square papers in his lap, translucent white and crossed with fibrous lines. Rice paper.
“Oh most cantankerous Lord,” Perrin said in a conversational voice, exactly as if he were addressing Sienne, “it’s that time again. Hear my plea, and forgive my pestering you.”
Kalanath had stopped eating with the spoon hovering inches from his mouth, his narrow eyes wider than usual. Casually he set his bowl down and rose, backing away from Perrin. Sienne wanted to do the same, but she was too fascinated to move.
“I realize it’s early,” Perrin went on. “But did you not in your wisdom say, ‘Time waits for no man, especially when there is a drink to be had’?” Still with his eyes closed, he took a long swig from his flask and smiled. “That’s better. Now, it seems my companions and I may have been followed, and I would like to take a look around. There’s also the chance we will stand in need of your curmudgeonly protection. And I sincerely hope it is unnecessary, but should we stand in need of healing, I’d like to think your ill temper would not prevent you from aiding us. As always, I leave it to you to determine the form your assistance will take.”
He went silent. Sienne became aware that Alaric and Dianthe had come to stand nearby, staring at Perrin with as much astonishment as she was. Perrin’s brow furrowed, and his lips quirked in a smile. “My Lord, I realize how much I ask of you,” he said. “You are generous and—” He stopped speaking and cocked his head as if listening. “No, I had no intention of toad-eating you, merely of showing my respect for your many blessings upon me. You are certainly entitled to grant or withhold your blessings as you see fit, o querulous Lord of drunks and vagrants.” Another pause. Perrin’s face went still. “I should not have t
o remind you that drink is a sacrament unto you, my Lord, and your objection is—”
Sienne heard a hiss, like the sound of water on a hot pan. A thin stream of smoke rose from the pile of papers in Perrin’s lap, scented like jasmine mixed with a sharp, minty odor. It was like a splash of cold water to the face, making her feel alert and awake.
“My thanks, o Lord,” Perrin said. He opened his eyes and began sorting through the papers on his lap. “Hmm,” he said. “Interesting.”
“Are those…blessings?” Dianthe said.
“Indeed. Though Averran has an interesting sense of humor when he is petitioned before noon. I have no idea what this one does.” Perrin displayed one of the papers, holding it by one corner like a dead mouse. It now bore a scorch mark in the shape of a complex sigil.
“I thought you made specific prayers, and the avatar granted them,” Sienne said. “That’s how—I mean, I’ve only seen a priest of Kitane do it.” No need to say it was her mother’s personal priest, since only a noble would have one of those.
“It may well be different for other avatars. The priests of Gavant—” Perrin’s lips went tight, and he shook his head slightly as if warding off bad memories. “Averran in his wisdom sees farther than mere mortals, and his priests have found that allowing him to bless them as he sees fit carries with it advantages beyond a slavish adherence to one’s own intellect and wisdom.”
There were quite a few papers left blank. Perrin sorted these from the scorched ones and set them aside. The scorched ones, he scrutinized carefully, one at a time. “This is the one that will allow me to scry out the locality,” he told Alaric, displaying a paper with a slightly less complex sigil than the first. “And I think we are in for an interesting day.”
“How so?” Alaric said.
“Three of these are healing blessings. In general, I am given only one or perhaps two of these in a day. If Averran sees fit to grant me more, I can only assume we may need them. These two—” He teased out papers with a different sigil. “These are for protection, specifically to ward off attacks. And, as I said, this one might do anything.”
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