Chapter 7
YAY! PRESENTS
Devon pulled the pack from Jet’s saddlebag as Izzy had instructed. When he had woken initially, she had told him that she’d brought gifts from her people, but he’d forgotten about it in the chaos that followed.
Izzy explained to Devon.
Devon thought about Izzy’s words while he wandered over to the monument’s crumbling wall and sat down. His promised food hadn’t arrived yet, and so he was trying to catch up with the things that most urgently needed his attention. He was perturbed when Madison walked over to where he was seated and sat down beside him. She smiled warmly at him.
“Don’t mind me. We normally have our village meetings here,” Madison said. “By the way, everyone was very impressed with your use of stones as weapons. My husband is very taken with you; I sense some early signs of hero worship in him.”
“I just did what had to be done. Look, Madison, while I am still annoyed at being held captive, I am willing to let that slide. I am grateful for the offer of food and will be more so if I eventually get some.” Devon knew that the last comment was a bit of a low blow, but he hadn’t been able to prevent the words from slipping out. He shouldn’t judge the rest of the villagers by his experiences with one red-haired lunatic.
Madison’s smile didn’t falter at Devon’s slight jibe. She knew how to get what she needed, and a little justified petulance from this man was understandable. Beth had been foolish in her actions, but she had brought him here. His unexpected presence had saved all of them. She was one of the people he had rescued from the slavers’ camp and she knew what he was capable of. With this man in her clutches, they could start to feel safe and make a real go of creating a new life. Now all she had to do was keep him interested.
Gwen walked over to them with Jet following her. She sat down on the other side of Devon and sidled in so that she was touching him. “Alright, boss?”
Devon’s stomach growled, and he winced. “At ease, soldier,” he said with mock formality. “Although we’re off to do some hunting soon if this promised food fails to materialise.”
To distract him from his hunger, he opened the pack up and started to rummage. He drew out a few coils of the lightest, silkiest rope he could imagine. The fibres in it glistened with a silvery sheen, and it was soft to the touch.
Devon didn’t know how to respond.
Devon put the rope down and reached into the sack again. He pulled out a miniature model of a campfire. He admired the craftsmanship. It was intricately detailed and accurately painted so that the flames almost looked real. He could even see the woodgrain on the unburnt logs.
Izzy laughed.
“That’s pretty,” Madison said. She had been observing Devon. He seemed to be full of surprises.
“It might come in handy,” he replied to Madison.
“Are you happy for us to have a brief meeting while you eat and recover?” Madison asked him.
“It’s your village. I have no problem with that,” Devon answered with a smile. His food had just arrived, and he was thrilled to see that it was a sizeable tray, stacked high with cooked chicken dripping with sauce, accompanied by a substantial stack of fresh bread. “Thank you so much,” he said to the smiling lady who had proudly laid the tray on his lap. She blushed and hurried off. If all the other villagers were this friendly, then he might enjoy keeping their company. Gwen reached in and grabbed a hunk of bread and dipped it in the pool of gravy around the meat platter. Devon gave her one of his feral growls, which made Madison jump and stare at him in shock. Gwen just grinned and bit into her gravy-soaked bread.
Madison stood up and began to discuss the villagers’ situation as Devon demolished his long-awaited food with fervour. Gwen helped a little, but Devon knew she was only doing it to keep his attention. His stomach sent happy messages to his brain as it swelled satisfyingly. He noticed Madison constantly watching him out of the corner of her eye and realised that she had been waiting for him to finish because as soon as he set his tray on the ground, she dropped her bombshell.
“We have to leave this place and find somewhere else where we can be safer,” Madison said. “It is a hard decision to make, but the slavers know where we are now. The next time they come, there will be more of them.”
Devon had another issue that he thought they should be discussing. “Do you know how they found you in the first place? Beth told me that she knows I don’t have any trackers on me, so have you discovered who has? Were you followed on your way back from the slavers’ camp, perhaps? Did you check?” He fired one question after another at them, knowing they didn’t have the answers. “If you move and they are tracking you, then they will just follow you again.”
Madison looked at Devon with respect, surprised that this man was more than a mindless fighter. He had raised some good points. “Beth, can you tell if anyone here is being tracked?”
Beth nodded and hurried away.
“Tonight,” she continued, “we will check to make sure that none of us is being tracked and then get some rest. I would beg Devon to stay here tonight.”
“Is he coming with us?” the lady who had delivered his food asked. “I know I won’t feel safe for little Lorna or me unless he is nearby.” There was a loud murmuring of agreement from the others. They all knew what he had done and the skills required to do it.
Devon looked at ‘little Lorna.’ She looked to be nearly twenty, with adult curves, and athletic enough to handle herself if given a bit of guidance.
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Devon thought about the implications of what Izzy had just told him. He felt they had enough time to comfortably find this nexus thing and escort the villagers if they were all going in the same direction. Returning to what he’d been doing, he reached into the pack and fished around.
He fished out the next thing from the bag. It was a pointed stick – just that. A ten-inch piece of wood sharpened at one end.
Izzy laughed at his confusion.
That last remark interested Devon.
Devon was blushing as Izzy laid it all out so bluntly.
Izzy chuckled when she saw his response.
A hand curled around his inner thigh, and a voice whispered in his ear, “come back to us. You tuned out for a while there. They’ve just asked you a question,” Gwen said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Devon blurted out, emerging from his reverie. “I was miles away.”
“No matter,” Madison replied. “I asked if you would be willing to escort us on our journey.”
“I have to be somewhere urgently. If you are going in the same direction, then you are welcome to join me. Do you know where you are going?” With that, he reached back into the pack and found two pouches. He gripped them both and drew them out.
Madison put her hand on his shoulder then leant down to whisper in his ear. “All we know is that we have to go; we don’t know where. Please, Devon, lead us somewhere that isn’t here. They want to follow you; I want to follow you.”
Devon looked up at her in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be so candid about their predicament. “What time is dawn?”
“It starts getting light enough to see at about six,” Madison replied. “Do you want us ready to leave by then?”
“Yes. Can anyone other than Beth drive a lorry?”
“I can,” Gwen and Finn said in unison.
“We’ll drive a good distance from here, then abandon the lorries and head off in a different direction. Probably safest if Beth checks the lorries for trackers too.” Devon looked over to where Beth was using a box-shaped device with a circular antenna attached to it to scan each villager. As each villager produced a negative result, they shuffled off to grab as much sleep as possible before the morning.
“When I take this thing out of the pouch, nobody can touch it. Understood?”
Gwen and Madison looked confused but nodded. They looked at the red pouch with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Devon loosened the tightly pulled drawstring and tipped the contents of the pouch onto his outstretched palm. It sizzled against his skin for a second, then settled harmlessly. He breathed a sigh of relief and heard Izzy do the same through his thoughts.
Devon looked at the trinket closely. It glowed a deep blue in his palm, but a white dot shone brighter than the blue. He moved the crystal around to see if it was some sort of reflection, but surprisingly the light stayed fixed to a direction. When he rotated it by one-hundred and eighty degrees, the spot went red.
He considered that. He had begun to remember a few things about who he had been. It was far too early to say he had clear memories, but he understood that he was older than the realms themselves. Then something floated to the surface. A word, ‘Wayfarer.’ I’m the Wayfarer. What is a Wayfarer? I am. What does a Wayfarer do? I wander. I am master of the waygates, he thought. What’s a waygate? Damn!
Izzy sent him a feeling of relief and happiness.
Izzy laughed.
A circular aerial poked toward him aggressively. “You’re talking to someone. I know it. It must be you that led them here,” Beth said, accusation dripping from her tone.
“Oh, goody! You’re back to ruin my day again. Find anything, detective?” Devon retorted while glaring at her.
“Elizabeth!” Madison snapped. “I told you to leave him alone. I agree it looks like he is talking to someone, but you said he was clean of devices. Has that changed?”
“No,” Beth said, her head downcast. She’d been so sure. She yelped as she felt her scanner pulled sharply from her grasp.
“I am talking to someone. It isn’t my problem that you cannot see her. Anyway, what happens when this thing finds a device?” Devon said, inspecting the lights mounted to the top of the box. “Let me guess, green for clear, amber for maybe, red for yes?”
“Smartass,” Beth grumbled. “Yes,” she grudgingly confirmed.
Devon ran the scanner up and down Beth as he’d seen her do to the villagers. The light stayed green until he reached her belt, then it flicked to amber and then red. “Hah! You were the only person remaining not scanned. It had to be you. They had you in a cage and probably put a tracker on you in case you escaped or got rescued. You owe me yet another apology, it seems.”
Beth unbuckled her belt and looked carefully at the inside of it. Her face dropped, and she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of tiny slim-nosed pliers, then carefully applied the pliers to the belt and pulled something off the inner lining. Beth held the pliers close to her face and inspected a minute object the shape of a flattened egg. She sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Devon. Yet again, I have been rotten to you. It’s no wonder you despise me.” She glared hatefully at the tiny device that she held with her pliers, then squeezed the tool hard until the tracker shattered. A whiff of smoke emerged from it as something died inside.
Devon noticed the tears start and acted quickly. He stuffed everything else back in his pack and hung the pendant around his neck, tucking it safely under his clothing, then stood. He wrapped Beth up in a hug which she returned. Her tears changed to full-on weeping as she reached around him and returned his embrace. He wondered why he’d felt the need to comfort her at all, but it had just seemed like the right thing to do.
“I don’t hate you, Beth, and I’m not your enemy. I’m sorry I said that before. It was in the heat of the moment. My only issue with you is that you’re a royal pain in my arse,” he finished wickedly, and felt her shudder with a laugh before beating his back half-heartedly.
“I’m genuinely sorry about everything. From the beginning, you were just too good to be true. Can we start over again?”
“You do realise that I’m still going to tease you? I can go with starting over, though,” he replied.