Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sneaking

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A quarter hour.

It was always a quarter hour.

Flipping his timekeeper closed, Rhydian slid it back into the pocket of his leisure trousers and waited. A breeze whispered across the canvas of his tent as Tanuzet landed. She had always been a silent flier, even without her techniques, and was often just as stealthy upon the ground. Were he asleep, he might have missed her return entirely, which he suspected was likely by design.

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have questioned it. At this hour of the morning, most everyone without wings were asleep and the wyverns had been courteous of that fact. Tanuzet most especially. Their comings and goings during rest hours were discreet and usually spent hunting their own meals, but he knew she preferred to do so in the late afternoon while those of the camp were seeing to their own breakfast.

When he’d first noticed her outings, he’d thought little of them. Tanuzet was her own person, after all. Who was he to dictate how she spent her leisure time? He assumed she’d simply gone out to stretch her wings.

But then he had come across the trail.

It was fresh and narrow and he’d been lucky he’d noticed it at all. The lush grass of the field had taken its fair share of abuse from the wyverns and was thoroughly trodden down along the places they frequented most. However, there were areas where it remained pristine closer to the treeline and behind their tents.

Rhydian had first noticed the oddity along the former. Few animals would risk coming so close to camp, so the chances of it being a game trail were slim. It was fairly new as well, perhaps only a week or two old? The grass was damaged and misshapen along its length, but had yet to turn yellow or die off from extensive use.

Tracking its path across the areas the wyverns trafficked most had been impossible, so on a hunch, he’d traced the relatively undisturbed perimeter. Only to find a similar, yet far shorter stretch leading to the back of Inerys’ tent. By the look of it, she’d been wiggling her way under the rear corner and fluffing the grass back up where she could to avoid drawing attention to the shallow depression. She’d done an admirable job of it too. Most wouldn’t have noticed unless they were actively looking for signs of anything out of the ordinary.

Their little vampire was more stealthy than he’d given her credit for.

Although, given what she had told him about her prior occupation, he shouldn’t have been surprised. He could only imagine how cautious one had to be while hunting in the Endari Wilds of all places. Something she had allegedly done on countless occasions, sometimes for weeks at a time. She told him it had been out of necessity and he was inclined to believe her. That cursed forest was not for the faint of heart.

What he didn’t understand was why she felt the need to sneak out now. If she had needed to relieve herself, surely she would have simply used the tent’s entrance to leave? No one had reported any fanged visitors, so she couldn’t have been after the others. And even if she was, there would have been wyverns to contend with before she ever reached the other tents. Why take to the forest when she seemingly had all she needed here at camp?

He liked to believe they’d developed a certain rapport in recent weeks, but had he been mistaken? Surely she would have spoken with him if she’d needed something? Oddly enough, the idea of her not trusting him enough to do so hurt.

Much as he wanted to confront her, to ask where it was she was going and why, he didn’t. What good would it do? She wasn’t harming anyone and clearly, she’d always returned before anyone was the wiser. She would come to him eventually. He was certain of it.

One morning, as he’d laid awake puzzling over it, he’d finally put two and two together. Tanuzet’s usual routine had changed and Inerys was sneaking out. The wyvern had claimed the open space behind both their tents as her lounge, so she had to know something. The huntress may have been able to avoid his detection for a time, but there was no way she’d been able to sneak past one wyvern, let alone several. Which meant Tanuzet knew. Moreover, she was facilitating it.

But why?

Was Inerys all right? Did she need more time to herself? If so, why the secrecy? He knew from personal experience that she wasn’t afraid to ask uncomfortable questions and requesting more privacy was hardly one of them. Why involve Tanuzet?

Each time he’d tried to come up with a possible answer, he came up short.

He’d ruled out them flying together. Inerys had expressed interest in gaining more confidence in the saddle, but Tanuzet would have never agreed to it without him being present. In a moment of doubt, though, he’d reached out with his awareness when Tanuzet had taken her leave a few days prior, but he’d sensed Inerys still in her bedroll when she’d left.

She had to be leaving between Tanuzet’s return and midafternoon when he and the others woke. Whatever the reason, it was important enough for her to risk venturing out during the daylight hours. The thought of which filled him with a certain anxiety.

Today, he intended to find out what, exactly, the two women were up to.

He crouched in the corner of his tent as Tanuzet made herself comfortable and held his breath as he listened. A few minutes passed without sign of anything amiss, but then, there was the faintest rustling of grass and canvas. He held his breath, worried she might hear him and spook. Inerys’ footfalls were silent and calculated, soon vanishing entirely as she presumably passed by Tanuzet.

His lips thinned as he rose and with a quiet curse under his breath, moved to step outside. He peered around Tanuzet’s tail in time to see Inerys’ figure disappear into the treeline, bow in hand. His jaw flexed. At least she’d taken care to bundle up before braving the light.

Tanuzet was too busy watching her to notice him as he crossed his arms.

“Is there something I should know about?” He asked.

The wyvern gave a start, head snapping in his direction. To her credit, she didn’t bark in surprise the way Vaelor did when Ayduin played her tricks. Her yellow eyes were wide, but she recovered quickly. Instead of denying anything or making excuses, she narrowed her eyes in a distinctly accusatory manner.

How long have you known?

He shrugged. “A little less than a week.”

And yet you have said nothing. Why?

“You’re the one who told me to respect people’s privacy. I assumed with you in the know, whatever’s been going on couldn’t have been worth worrying over too much.”

She snorted softly. I am pleased to see you have grown marginally less dense when it comes to the women in your life.

“Only marginally?”

Surely he’d earned a bit more credit than that?

She looked him up and down as if she were privy to some detail that still eluded him.

I am beginning to think that may be giving you too much credit.

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Is she all right? If she needs more blood, we can figure out–”

She is fine, Rhydian. She is not hunting for herself.

It took him a moment to fully process what she’d said. He’d seen her run off with her bow and quiver. What did she mean, not for herself?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Who is she hunting for then?” He asked, rounding her wing.

She gave the slightest inclination of her head and his gaze flitted across the field to settle upon Ephaxus’ sleeping form. He, like Vaelor, was curled around himself with his head tucked beneath his wing to stave off the light. Rhydian’s brow furrowed. Why would she be hunting on his behalf? The two were at odds, as far as he knew.

Unless. . .

Suddenly, he felt like a fool.

“She’s been mending bridges, hasn’t she?”

Quite successfully, from what I have seen, she purred.

Truthfully, he didn’t expect any less. The woman was as admirable as she was endearing. Anyone willing to look past the fangs and blood, however briefly, could see it. How Vesryn remained so fixed in his assumptions, was beyond him. Her ability to win over Ephaxus, of all people, was a testament to the heart within the monster.

“Why hasn’t she said anything?”

Her reasonings are yet her own, but I believe she fears what the others may think. Ayduin is sure to disapprove when she finds out.

“You mean after what happened to Keishara?”

She dipped her chin.

He fell silent for a spell, gnawing the inside of his cheek.

“Did you tell her about what happened?”

I have.

“You’ve spoken quite often, then?”

Not as much as you may think, but yes. She occasionally has questions when she returns from her conversations with him.

He cast his glance across the field and noticed Inet discreetly watching in silent question. She had been the one keeping watch while Tanuzet was away, then. Which meant she was also aware of what had been going on. At least, in part.

“Should I wait until she comes to me, then?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

That would be best, I think, she said.

“All right,” he sighed, craning his neck to look up at her, “but I have one more question.”

Ask it.

“Why do you leave every morning? You’re always gone for at least a quarter hour. Are you scouting?”

After the first night she came to me, I volunteered to scour the nearby forest for worthy prey. She insists upon hunting her offerings herself, so to spare her time, I locate them for her, she said, then appeared to hesitate, Admittedly, I have flushed a few herds toward camp, but she need not know that detail. The stubborn girl will accuse me of making things too easy.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you making things too easy?”

She needs her rest. If my meddling means she spends less time out in the woods, I hardly see how it is an issue.

He chuckled, “I’m glad I’m not the only one you insist upon mother-henning.”

She bared her teeth, but there was no venom behind it.

I am not a hen.

“Really? Honestly, you could have had me fooled.”

That comment earned him a growl, but he only smiled.

“I’m glad she’s in good hands,” he said, sparing the treeline a glance over his shoulder as he turned, “I would ask you to give her my regards, but it seems that’s best left for another time. Watch over her for me?”

I will, she murmured.

~*~

Inerys was beginning to believe Sorisanna could rival Dravas for practical plant knowledge. As it was, she’d learned more in the span of a week than she ever had from her mother or her silly guide book. Though, to be fair, the spirit wilds held far more variety than the deepwoods had. Herbs, medicinals, essence clusters – it was hard to walk more than a few steps without coming across something that was useful in some form or another.

If they were this plentiful along their outer edges, what might she find closer to their center? Alaric would be beside himself in a place like this. To say nothing of the other Hounds. Or the Guild, for that matter. They’d likely kill to get their hands on resources like these.

She couldn’t help but wonder after other factions, though.

Other individuals.

“If the spirit wilds are the perfect place to advance, why don’t more people visit them?” She asked.

The sage tilted her head as she crouched beside a patch of calendula, her basket already brimming with the spoils of their outing.

“That’s a bit of a complicated answer, but overall, it usually comes down to a lack of means. The wilds are a dangerous place, especially for the inexperienced or ill-prepared. Those who brave it without some sort of escort are usually picked off by the wildlife before they make enough progress to make a difference.”

Inerys supposed she did have an unfair advantage. For all their warnings of predators, she had yet to see one and for good reason. The wyverns were a powerful deterrent, but so were her companions. She had never witnessed anyone fight the way they did and while she had seen little of their spiritual talents, she suspected they were just as impressive.

“How do people progress otherwise? Outside of the Talhavar, I mean.”

“Birthright, mainly. Those born to the upper class often have both knowledge and access to resources the general population does not. The middle and lower classes rarely pass their foundation ascensions unless they somehow earn a scholarship or patronage. Or if they manifest a natural affinity, but those who do are usually illegitimate children with a highborn parent. Blood legacies are fairly common among the noble houses.”

Inerys frowned.

Apparently, the world at large was not all that different from Aeodran or the other city-states. There were no humans, yet somehow blood still mattered. Why was that?

The more she thought about it, though, the more she began to amend the assumption. She herself was not yet through her foundation stage and already, she had seen vast improvements to her physique even with her condition taken into account. In that regard, they had an advantage over both the Hounds and mundanes of the city-states.

“I promise, it isn’t as grim as it might sound. The other classes are arguably more important than the noble houses in terms of workforce, so it’s in everyone’s best interest to keep them healthy. There are a number of programs and incentives to help see the population through their foundations. Most just lack the ability to generate and harness rysk due to underdeveloped or dormant spiritual cores.”

Inerys considered.

“They’re not all that different from me, then?”

Sorisanna’s chuckle was light as she rose. “To a degree perhaps, but you’re a bit of an unfair comparison.”

She winced, “Right. Sometimes I forget that little detail. It’s just hard to gauge something I know so little about.”

“It’s natural to want to make comparisons. I only wish I had a more level metric for you. For all my notes and observations, there’s still so little I know about what you are. Your physique alone has been a fascinating study. I’m rather curious to see what your next ascension will bring.”

Inerys couldn’t help but grimace.

“You mean the one that’s supposed to bring about the most physical change?”

The sage seemed to curb her enthusiasm, her smile suddenly more hesitant.

“That would be the one.”

“I wonder if I’ll sprout another head.”

“I doubt that. Most changes are more nuanced than that. You’ll see more physical augmentations, but the majority will likely be internal. I wouldn’t worry too much,” she said.

She desperately wanted to believe her, but with all she’d seen and gone through already, it was difficult.

“I’m afraid that’s easier said than done.”

“It usually is,” she agreed, “but you’ll be glad for it, in the end.”

“I’ll take your word for it. You’ve yet to give me a reason to doubt you so far.”

The woman raised her chin. “ Good. I intend to keep it that way.”

Smiling, Inerys shook her head as she turned her attention back toward the waterside vegetation. The lakeshore and its tributaries had all manner of herbage she was eager to explore. Some specimens were not all that different from what she might encounter in the deepwoods, but others she had only recently learned of. Only a select few were still unknown to her.

She knelt beside one that almost reminded her of parsnip.

“Is this some sort of wild carrot?” She asked, reaching a hand out to study the leaves.

Before her fingers could so much as grace the greenery, Sorisanna slapped them away. Inerys hissed and shook the offended appendages in an effort to ease the sting. What in spirits’ name had that been for?

“Those are water hemlock. Mistake them for an edible and it’s the last thing you ever do. They’re highly poisonous even in small quantities,” Sorisanna said.

“I’ve never seen them before. I’m sorry.”

She pursed her lips and backed a step.

“Don’t be. I overreacted. It’s only– I’ve seen my fair share of poisonings, both accidental and otherwise. The results are neither swift nor painless.”

Inerys shuddered to think about what she meant by otherwise. In her line of work, she was sure the woman had seen all manner of awful things. She’d never considered poisonings to be among them, but it made sense.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” she said, committing the details of the deadly plant to memory.

When she turned her attention back to the sage, she noticed the woman was a shade more pale than usual. Her emerald eyes were fixed upon the hemlock, though her mind appeared to be somewhere else. A memory, perhaps?

“Is everything all right?” Inerys asked, hesitating to reach for the woman’s shoulder.

She snapped back into focus and forced a smile.

“I’m fine,” she said and lifted her basket, “let’s get these back to camp. I want to arrange a few more infusions before bed.”