Kanos had to think quickly. His impulsiveness had always been double-natured—it kept him interested enough in his life to be quick and focused, but it could lead to mistakes. The one he had made in his teenage years, he had still not recovered from, and it was taking this journey to the edge of the world to do so. It was a skill, to recognize which impulses were quicker-than-conscious insight, and which ones deserved to be canceled out by future knowledge, but there were two fates he reflexively rejected: to return to the world he had left without his redeeming prize, or to die at the hands of a man like Claes, a man with the weakness of entangling his cares with those of others.
“If I am to die,” Kanos said, “I would like to pull the trigger.”
“No,” Claes replied.
He looked around, to size up his options. He put his hands through the motions of begging. “Let’s wait till dawn. Please, let’s wait till dawn.”
“Why?”
“In my faith, one who dies at night falls into the inferno.”
“Is there any truth in this?” Claes asked Runar.
“I don’t know what his faith is.”
“It smells like bullshit. Half the world dies at night.”
Kanos said, “I-I-I’m scared.”
“The time to be scared was long ago.”
Kanos had tried to enter Claes’s mind before, and had failed. Runar had been penetrable before his injury, but was not now. Eric was too strange, even if the boy wasn’t a mage, as the people with ill-proportioned senses and a diminished ability to read social cues—a trait two-thirds of mages had, but not limited to them—were always the hardest to enter. He would have to settle for the obvious weakest link.
“Don’t kill him,” Talyn pleaded. “We can use him.”
#
Talyn remembered the sunny winter day, now fifteen years ago, when she had interviewed to join the Company. She had spent a hundred grot on her wardrobe and makeup. She looked the best she ever had, or ever would—it was like a wedding, except for there being ten brides of whom nine would be left at the altar.
The process used a debate format; she had to argue that the Global Company should raise the price of guano. Or, had her position been that the price should be lowered? That detail didn’t matter—whichever stance hers had been, she had argued the case convincingly. Her name landed high enough on a typewritten list that she secured a job offer.
If only her career had matched the courtship phase. Persuasion didn’t mean all that much when the firm had enough data to look up the social positions of one’s parents and decide how far one could be allowed rise. One survived not by defending one’s real positions, but instead by discerning which views those in power considered correct, and championing those in a clever enough way that one seemed to have original thoughts. Discussion, in that time, had only looked like debate to those who did not know what was going on, and she had always missed that three-day period in her life when the words she had used and the argument she had made had truly mattered.
She had, right here, a chance to redeem herself, a chance to relive prior glory by saving a condemned man’s life.
“I won’t deny it,” she said. “I’ve been one of the less useful people on this journey. I’ve been a burden to this group, and I’d like to go home. We have tried, at every step, to throw the Company off our scent, but I don't think they have fallen for a single one of our misdirections. They have all the resources in the world, and they’re still coming.
“Kanos, your ydenstone proves we got to Switch Cave. They’ll pay you more, for that gem alone, than you could ever ask for. We can go back together. In exchange, I demand you resign from Company work.” She looked around at the others. “After all,” she said with a chuckle, “I still outrank you.”
Claes winced. “This seems like a terrible idea.”
“I hate it too,” Farisa said.
“We’ve been through so much,” Talyn said. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
“Eric and I need to go home. Out here, we take more than we give. You should let us go.”
Claes said, “You’re free to go, with a one-ninth share each in our means of survival, but not with Kanos.”
“We’ll need him. For all he’s put us through, he’s good with a gun. We could be slaughtered by orcs. We could be raped. It’ll be safer if there are three of us heading back to Portal than two.”
Farisa said, “No. We’ll all be unsafe if we let Kanos live.”
#
Kanos considered entering Saito, but realized that the man’s confession to having worked for the Company had likely compromised his credibility with this group. He needed someone pure. Andor, conscious but still sickened by heat and thirst, would likely die if he entered, and even Kanos did not want to risk being inside while death occurred. Mazie? Maybe, but there was something about her he disliked so much that he chose Runar—the changes in him after his injury would be an issue, but he could get himself in there for long enough to write a sentence or two.
You can’t let your own brother die. It is abhorrent in the sight of God.
#
Runar, for a moment on that desert night, felt the wind of life leave him. The discomfort and heat faded, and he felt small, like a child. He was, for an instant, taken to hear the doctor’s voice and then the little brother’s.
“I no longer fear death. I have seen God.”
“You will see God,” Runar had said then. “Not today, though. You’re going to live a long life.”
Runar had been wrong. The fever had killed him by noon.
“We don’t kill lightly,” Runar said in the present.
Farisa said, “No one’s talking about killing lightly.”
Claes said, “A few minutes ago, you said—”
“I know. I know I did, and I regret it. We’ve seen a lot of death. We’ve lost Garet. We’ve lost half our animals.”
“He’s a spy,” Claes insisted.
“Was,” Kanos said. “I was a spy. I’m nobody, like the rest of you, now.”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Runar felt pressure in his brow; words escaped his lips, despite no prior intention to say them. “Kanos has three months to live.”
Claes said, “What?”
“He’s a mage. The Marquessa will take him in three months. His power is waning.” Runar felt an urge to point at his eyepatch. “I can see it.”
Farisa looked at Claes. “It’s not relevant. He can do a lot of damage in three months.”
“Runar is correct, though,” Kanos said. “I wish I had noticed the signs. It has become clear to me on this journey that I am a dying man.”
Farisa spread her feet apart. “Why should I care?”
“Most men, and I include myself in this set, are no more than incentives. Mine have changed. If I am to die in three months, then I must fear the afterlife more than the failure of a mission whose spoils I will not live long enough to enjoy. Faith and confession, in my belief, do not redeem foul deeds—only good ones can. I would like to get Talyn and Eric safely back to Portal.”
Talyn turned to face Farisa. “You're a mage. Tell me. If you're in pain, can you still hold enough focus to cast a spell?”
Farisa looked aside. “I’m not sure what you're asking.”
“Let us say that I tied Kanos’s arms together behind his back—”
“That wouldn’t be enough. It’d take more.”
“In principle, though, is it the case that if you were in severe pain, you would not be able to do anything?”
Farisa seemed to swallow. “That’s roughly correct, but—”
“Then here’s what I’ll do,” Talyn said. “Something I learned at the Global Company is how to tie a human hand in a knot. It's very painful. I’ll do that to both hands, and tie his arms behind his back. He won't be able to pull any tricks, and I won't let him loose till we're ten miles north of Switch Cave.”
Exhausted by the relentless heat, Runar felt his body sway. He could feel his heartbeat, weak as it was, in his hands; color faded in his vision. Anxiety built in his body; he felt as if a wall of sand and heat would rise and entomb him unless he spoke.
“Please don’t send my brother to hell.”
#
As dawn came, Kanos’s neck relaxed. They had been debating his fate for several hours. Thus, he had already secured himself a half-day more of life than he had deserved. These people lacked the courage to kill in cold blood; otherwise, they’d have done it already. Runar had bound his arms and hands, and Kanos’s shoulders ached, but he was not in as much pain as he had made it seem—he winced and howled and complained, but he could hold a straight thought in this state. Concealing a smile, he watched as Claes handed Talyn a locket.
“Don’t ask what it is, and don’t take it off, ever, around Kanos.”
Kanos doubted the item would provide much protection. He’d spent his early years selling fraudulent charms and potions. As soon as they were half a mile out of this group’s sight, he’d enter her mind to get his arms untied; from there, he would find a way to do the rest.
“Eric,” Farisa said before closing her eyes. “Tell me what this feels like.”
“It feels weird,” the boy said. “Like a sneeze coming on.”
“It’s different for everyone. Now, Talyn—”
“I know what it feels like.”
Farisa said, “If either of you feel that, he’s trying to get in. Fight it. Fend it off till he collapses. When he does, you have to—”
“I know,” Talyn said. “We’ll have to kill him.”
“Right.”
“We lost most of a night arguing,” Claes said. “We’re still more than thirty miles from Switch Cave.”
Andor, who’d been in and out of consciousness throughout the night, said, "We should return as fast as we can, even through the day when it gets hot, because this weather will kill your animals even if you don’t move at all. Drink as much as you need, but every hour wasted makes your chances worse.”
Claes looked north. “I suppose we should listen to the man who survived—”
“Seven hundred miles, round trip.” Andor was able to stand. “I recommend a pace of two miles per hour until ten o’clock tomorrow morning. From there, those who can harvest water, should. Those unable to do so can rest in shade. At three o’clock, start moving again. One mile per hour until evening—this means you can take breaks, or get more water if you see any of those cactuses—when you should bring it back up to two. We’ll be out of here by—”
“Sunrise tomorrow,” Farisa said.
“If nothing goes wrong.”
Claes put his hands together. “Let’s go, then.”
They set off, pressing themselves forward in spite of the rising heat. Kanos struggled to keep pace with the others; with his arms tied behind himself, he found it more difficult than expected to balance. The pain in his shoulders was worsening; it now stretched across his collarbone. This, he had to remind himself, was minor—he was not dying, as far as he knew, and pain could be ignored in light of the reward he would attain if he returned home with the prize of the world. These few miles of northward travel were a mere detour; he would take control of this group just yet. The Hegemon was so much closer to them than any place a sane person could call home.
As Andor had suggested, they stopped for rest shortly after ten o’clock. Claes and Runar set up the tent to make shade. Talyn had lost some of her color and needed rest. Andor, the dark-skinned interloper, walked into the brush with Farisa and Mazie, all of them carrying metal buckets for water.
“I can’t help you,” said Kanos as he laughed. “My hands are tied.”
#
Hours passed; Kanos had slept well. One survived discomfort by dissociating, so he imagined the ache in his bound arms as someone else’s pain. He reminded himself that the heat was wearing everyone else down even more, because he had prepared for this mission by subjecting himself to fourteen-flag heat in a sauna. Misery, if it pitched the field of a future battle, was welcome.
As Andor had suggested, they started walking in the afternoon, before the sun was gone, and increased their pace into the evening, arriving at Switch Cave just before dawn.
Claes said, “No losses on the return leg.”
Andor nodded. “You have been very lucky.”
Claes said, “Once we figure out where we are going, we’ll rest. We could all use sleep.”
Talyn grabbed the reins of the unta Claes had given her and stepped toward the cave’s mouth. “So this is it.”
Kanos waited for someone to respond.
“Eric?”
“I’ve decided to stay with the others.”
Talyn said to Claes, “The heat must have gotten to him.”
“No,” Eric insisted. “I believe Farisa. We’re going to make it to the Antipodes. I want to see the new world.”
She tugged the boy’s arm. “Don’t be an idiot.”
“Let go! You’re not my mother.”
Talyn did. The desert air stung with the hurt on her face. “Very well, then.” She looked into the cave’s mouth, then back. “Good luck to you lot.”
“Remember to tell them how I died,” Farisa said. “Insist. Do not give up until they believe.”
“Of course,” Talyn said.
“Don't forget one of these.” Claes handed Talyn a small safety lamp. “And that pendant. Never take it off.”
The nine of them walked into Switch Cave together, but after a hundred yards, they separated. Claes and the others stopped; but Talyn and Kanos, the two of them otherwise alone, continued to ascend.
“Let’s stop,” he whispered. “We can still hear what they’re saying.”
Talyn tugged his tied arm. “I gave them my word that I’m going home. Whatever you do after we get to Portal, that’s for you, but I will have no part in your—”
“Untie my arms. Now.”
“No.”
Talyn kept walking. Every step angered him, because they were going the wrong way. His prize was so close, but they were walking away from it now, and every mile they traveled in service to this feint, which would be just as convincing if they stayed put, meant wasted time for him on the way back.
He closed his eyes and tried to enter Talyn’s mind; this time, he felt resistance, and the frustrated agony that closed on his mind caused the pain in his tied-up arms to shoot through his whole body, and the damp darkness now disoriented him, leaving him to feel as if he had been swung upside down. Claes’s stupid locket was real; it had worked.
“I promised to kill you if you tried that,” Talyn said. “Do it again, and I will.”
“Don’t pretend it doesn’t feel good, though.”
“I’ve had better.”
He bit the side of his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. His arms were immobile, and he saw no easy way to remove her protective charm, and the two of them were still walking the absolute wrong way considering that only one thing on this journey mattered: a mission he had come here to complete, and still would, even if he had to kill everyone else in the process.
There is opportunity here. He listened to the sounds of Switch Cave. This place is a kind of hell, and if there is one thing that can always be found in hell, it is opportunity.