14
They left the barn early the next morning, making sure to depart before the owners awakened. Yawning periodically, they worked their way on roads that passed between damp, open fields. Morning mist cast the landscape in a shroud, but at least the limited visibility fascinated Mieta. Martel offered to do some light hunting, but the others declined. Hunting would take too long, and they were all ready to move forward, even if it meant doing so with growling stomachs. They did manage to swipe a few fruits and vegetables from some of the fields they passed. They would have preferred meat, but at least the food they found was filling.
Light rain started in the afternoon. A look at the sky showed it to be the herald of heavier storms, but it felt cleansing, liberating, in that moment.
They kept conversation light. Yesterday’s talks had been invigorating, leaving them all in higher spirits. As they continued their westward approach, Caru was glad for the company.
How could the Seranians have done what they had to such good people?
Better not to say that out loud. Mieta might despise the military for the horrors they had forced her to take part in, but she was Seranian herself, as was her family, her friends, and most of the people she had ever known.
A week earlier, Caru had hated all humans. In fact, he had come within a hair’s breadth of burning Mieta to ash as he’d escaped from that armory. It was strange to see her now, walking at his side, laughing and chatting. Smiling when their eyes met. Each time, it felt like his heart skipped a beat, and his mind would cloud for an instant. He stammered more than he would have thought possible, but there was no getting around it.
He still held that grudge, but he couldn’t hold it against all humans, nor against all Seranians.
“Mieta,” Martel said. “You heard all about our exploits chasing the moon last night. It’s your turn. Story time.”
Mieta blinked, then reddened. “I spent my whole life in the city,” she said. “I don’t know that I have stories to interest ermen.”
“I’m very easily amused!” Martel said.
Mieta smiled, but she didn’t respond at first. They walked in silence for a moment before she spoke. “Ten years ago,” she began, “some of the parents in my neighborhood wanted to show off their children’s talents. It took some planning, but eventually they got money together to rent out the playhouse down the street from my house. Of course, all the children in a show like that are going to be actors or singers, although there was a juggler, and one of the children told a few jokes everyone in the audience had heard before. I hated that artists and writers didn’t make it onto the stage.”
“And I take it you joined?” Caru asked.
“I did.”
“Mieta Kain,” Martel said, sweeping his hands across his vision in a display of grandeur. “World Class Juggling Comedian.”
They all laughed for a moment before Mieta swept her own hands in a similar gesture. “Mieta Kain: The Clumsiest Woman in Garenesh.” She grinned and put her hands away. “No, I sang. I wasn’t good, but my mother insisted I had a good voice. I’d never been trained or anything, but at the time I’d wondered if my parents might pay for lessons.” She shrugged. “I was nine or ten at the time, so I think they were still waiting to see what I would want to do.”
“You went on stage without training?” Caru asked.
“I did. As I said, I wasn’t good, but none of the kids were.”
“What did you sing?” Kimke asked.
“It was a song about a sleepy dog. It wasn’t a children’s rhyme or anything, but it wasn’t anything you might hear in a bar. It was more of a—“
“I want to take him out to play, but that old dog just sleeps all day,” Martel suddenly crooned, snapping his fingers. “I want to make him wake up, but he’s been there since he was a pup.”
Mieta lit up, left Caru’s side and walked backward in front of Martel as she joined in, clapping and singing in a duet. They both had amazing voices, and sounded great together. They made it through the chorus before Martel cut off, admitting that he didn’t know the rest of the song.
“I didn’t know how it ended, either!” Mieta cried, laughing. She fell in pace at Caru’s side again. “I made it through the first two verses, finished the chorus for the second time, and then I stood up there in front of dozens of people and froze. I didn’t think to turn it into part of the show, or make like I wanted to hurry up for the sake of the other children. No, I just…stood there with my mouth open, staring out at this crowd until my father finally came and brought me off stage. I was mortified.”
“Sounds terrible,” Caru said.
“It was!” But then she laughed again. “Some of the other children laughed at me—some of the parents laughed at me—but I think mostly they understood. I wasn’t the first one that froze that day, so they obviously knew what to expect. I thought I might never go up in front of people like that again, but…” She paused, looking for the words. “But how it ended didn’t matter. You know, it was my first time up there like that, so I kind of expected it would happen, even at that age. But for those first two verses of some song about a sleepy dog, I had everyone’s attention. They looked at me, and they wanted more. And I wanted more.”
“And?” Kimke asked. “Did you ever get back up there?”
Mieta laughed. “As much as I could! Only ever for local things like that, though, and those were hard to come by. That’s why I started working at an inn. It wasn’t much, but there was a common room, and there was a stage off to one side, and the longer I worked there, the more they would let me on that little stage. Sure, the customers at an inn can get rowdy and want more from a lady on stage than just her song, but they were kept in line more often than not. I had plans–and even a date–to appear on a larger stage, but…”
Caru’s mood soured in an instant. “You had the chance, but here we are.”
She nodded. “I wanted to do the show. I really wanted to. But now I’m mixed up in this.”
“I’m sorry,” Caru whispered.
“Sorry, nothing!” Mieta said. “I wanted to sing, and I’m still going to. Not in Garenesh, probably not in Serana, but somewhere. And I’ll have you three with me. I don’t know how this is going to turn out, but we’re getting through this.”
“And if anyone messes with you or laughs at you…” Martel made a few jabbing motions that ended with an uppercut.
“If anyone messes with me, I’ll ask them how they got through my bodyguard.”
Caru felt an odd flash of jealousy, but he let it go. Martel was too damn likable.
—
The road ahead was a long one, but it shortened with each step. It wouldn’t be long now before their pursuers ground them into the stormwall ahead, if they were still being chased. Shortly after the light drizzle started, lightning flashed far in the distance. They couldn’t see individual lightning strikes, but the horizon itself pulsed with life, both inviting and warning. The thin line of the Tempest grew with each step they took, and the wider it grew, the quieter the conversation became. Silent stretches spread among them, and Caru yearned for a conversation to fill the void. Even Mieta’s optimism seemed to wane. Caru hated watching her smile fade into concern.
They hadn’t actually noticed signs of pursuit since their flight from Lieve, though. Perhaps the Seranians thought they had fled to the north? They could allow themselves a brief reprieve to see if they were being followed. If they were, then the plan was already set. If there were no signs after all, then perhaps they really should cut north from the next town onto a path leading into Chasar. Kimke and Martel had both shown themselves to be more observant than Caru, so they would likely see signs of soldiers on the move before he could.
Rain intensified into a storm as they neared another town before dusk. Kalis, the sign at the edge of the cobblestone road read. “The Town On The Edge Of Humanity,” it added in smaller script. Kalis could hardly be called more than a village, but it would serve as an intermediate point between Lieve and the most distant of farms. The city was nauseatingly colorful, clashing against the skies. Though the streets were wet and covered in a thin layer of mud, the citizenry was dressed in the most vibrant of colors. The colors of Kalis didn’t clash, but their brightness jarred against Serana’s customarily stoic architecture.
A quick trip by the fur trader’s office—a squat, square building in a blue brighter than any sky Caru had ever seen—awarded them a modest handful of copper coins. Well short of a fortune, but enough to keep them fed and housed for the night when pooled with what little money Mieta had on her and the remains of what Kimke had filched days earlier in Garenesh.
They found an inn shortly before sunset. The Storm’s Blessing looked warm and comfortable with lantern light and a flute’s low melody spilling into the street. The flute played an oddly somber tune for such a colorful city, but then The Storm’s Blessing was also the only building in town made of muted browns and grays.
More welcoming to visitors, Caru thought. He could actually look at the building without wanting to rub his eyes.
A hot bath reinvigorated him. Was it really the first time he’d felt clean since the Seranians had taken him three weeks ago? He recalled daily lukewarm buckets of water tossed into his cell with a coarse brush and no soap. Bathing in peace and silence gave him a moment to collect himself. Steam relaxed his muscles and mind. He hadn’t realized he’d been so tense, but he wasn’t surprised. After weeks of stress, it was nice to finally let it all go. After toweling and dressing in clothing that still needed a cleaning of its own, he walked down the stairs into the inn’s common room. Mieta sat alone in a corner, and beckoned him over.
As he sat down, she smiled and pushed a plate of food toward him. “I took the liberty of ordering for you. I hope you like mutton.” Her smile was bright again.
“Oh, I do,” Caru said, already carving away at the strip of meat with a knife and fork. It was well-prepared and much better than stolen fruits or charred rabbit.
The musician still played, standing with his flute on a raised dais on the room’s opposite corner. He kept his eyes closed, swaying to the music. Couples danced closely together on the floor, their movements guided by his melodies. It had been a long time since Caru had given pause to listen to music, and the performance was pleasant. It reminded him of earlier times, of a life as a moderately successful sculptor with the income to spend on such luxuries. He wondered if his money was still piled in a bank in Detrina, or if it had all gone to his mother along with news of his death.
He wondered if he would ever be able to let her know he’d survived. He shook the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.
“Where are Kimke and Martel?” he asked before swallowing another bite of his meal.
“They left while you were in the bath,” Mieta said. “I think they wanted to take a look around town. Martel said he wanted to see if we were being followed. He wants to make sure we’ll be able to stay outside the Tempest for a while before going in.” She paused and added, “I hope they’ll be fine by themselves.”
“I’m sure they will be,” Caru said. He was disappointed with them for leaving Mieta alone in the common room, though. At least it was crowded; if anyone had tried pulling her out, she could have kicked and screamed enough to draw attention.
That would matter less the further they got from people, from witnesses. A small village like Kalis could easily be made to keep quiet. The seat at the table suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
Mieta looked into the table’s wood grain, her eyes distant. Had her thoughts wandered to a dark place, as well? Her hand felt cool against his as Caru reached out to comfort her. Was she trembling?
“We’ll be fine,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Me, Kimke, Martel, we’re going to see you through this. We’ll do…something. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but we’ll see you through.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“We’ll see each other through,” she said. The tremble vanished as her resolve visibly returned. “I’ll do my part.”
Caru nodded. “Do you want to go up there and sing, then? I think everyone would like to hear it, and I doubt the man up there would refuse a break.”
“It would bring too much attention,” Mieta said. “Let’s blend in a little, instead.” She slid out of her seat, stood, and offered a hand to Caru.
“What?” he asked.
“Come on,” she said. “I saw something I liked in Lieve and thought I’d give it a try. I’m going to need you for this part.”
Caru eased out of his seat and took her hand.
Couples still danced in the middle of the room, standing close as the flute’s music drifted about. The tune shifted pitch into something lighter. Good dancing music. Caru drew Mieta against him and was surprised when she pressed in even tighter. He slipped a hand to the small of her back, and she cupped one of hers around the nape of his neck. It felt more awkward than he expected; his touch was clumsy compared to hers. She slid her right hand down, and Caru interlaced the fingers of his left against it. She felt delicate in his hands as she let him lead, rotating slowly in a small circle, dipping slightly away from each other on every fourth beat. Bobbing, swaying, losing himself against her rhythm, Caru eased out of some of the trauma of the past three weeks.
Beaten, tortured, starved, fleeing, all frustrations could be forgotten in the joy of a moment and he found himself opening up to it. Despite his resolve to enjoy himself, he stumbled through the next step and bumped Mieta off balance. She laughed and corrected the next move, weaving seamlessly back into the dance between the other couples. Caru muttered a quiet apology.
She smiled up at him. He thought perhaps he should work at becoming more like her: able to find enjoyment in every situation. They dipped together, Caru leaning above as she bent backward, soft hair falling loose and cascading over his hands. She felt nice in his arms. How long had it been since he’d danced with a beautiful woman? He blinked, afraid he would lose his step again and send her spilling to the floor. He kept his balance, and she gently guided him back into the rhythm.
Too long, that’s how long it’s been, he thought with a smile.
Music played, and they danced until their Caru’s feet ached.
After what felt like a happy eternity, the musician set his flute aside. “It has been a pleasure playing for you fine folk tonight,” he said, “but I’m afraid it is well past my bedtime.” That, he punctuated with a wink and a flourish. “I do hope you will all join us for more music, mirth, and mead tomorrow night.” He bowed to a round of applause and stood to see several patrons toss coins into his open flute case.
Mieta took a backward step and gave Caru a slight curtsy. “Thank you for such a pleasant evening,” she said, flashing that winning smile again. “And you only stepped on my toes the one time.”
Caru grinned, leading her back to the stairs. “I’m not a complete oaf, you know.”
“Should we go back to our room now?” she asked.
They walked up the stairs, several boards creaking softly. “It looks like the common room is dying down for the night,” he said. “If we don’t rest now, we won’t. We’ll plan something once we see what Kimke and Martel found.”
He turned and saw Mieta still grinning as he opened the door to the room Martel had rented for the night. Neither Kimke nor Martel were present.
“I think Martel just wanted some time alone with her,” Mieta said.
“Perhaps I’ll take notes from the man sometime,” Caru said.
They fell asleep without hearing from Kimke or Martel.
—
A hand pressed against Caru’s shoulder, shaking him awake. Heavy rain drummed against the inn’s roof, and the noise tempted Caru to drift back to sleep in spite of the urgent hand. Distant lights flashed against his closed eyelids, followed by ever-present rumbles. He cracked an eye open, staring up into the darkened room, trying to gather his bearings. He wondered if he would ever get a full night of sleep again.
“Caru, come on, wake up.” It was Martel’s voice, anxious.
Caru sat up and raked a hand through his hair. Kimke meanwhile sat on the edge of Mieta’s bed, speaking with her quietly. He looked back up to Martel, who stood in a gathering puddle, rainwater dripping from his body and spattering against the floor with a sound like a finger tapping glass. His close-cropped hair glistened with rainwater in the pulsing lights. “What’s wrong?” Caru asked. “It’s not even daylight yet.”
Martel glanced at Kimke. Mieta scrambled out of the bed, giving weight to Martel’s next words. “It’s Ferrak and his men. They’re here.”
“You’re sure?”
Martel nodded. “They arrived in full military dress. Bloodmage, three infantrymen. They asked about three people meeting all of our descriptions except mine. I guess they don’t know I’m with you yet.”
Caru eased himself out of bed. No wonder Martel seemed so stressed. “You just now found this out?” he asked.
“We wanted to see for ourselves first. Foolish, I know. We waited around the gates until we saw men in uniforms, and I know Kalis doesn’t post guards at night. We overheard them talking about us. We’re caught if we don’t leave now.”
On the other side of the room, Kimke gave Mieta space. Caru and Mieta gathered their shoes and other items before following Martel and Kimke downstairs. The boards still squeaked underfoot, but they couldn’t be heard over the driving storm outside. The inn’s common room sat thankfully empty. Caru imagined he could still hear the flute’s melodies beneath the storm’s own symphony.
Lightning flashed again, illuminating the brightly-colored buildings through the plate glass window. It seemed so dark outside, so cold despite the warm season. Walking into the rain outside would be madness. No worse than what we’re planning on doing, Caru thought. If nothing else, venturing into this night would serve well as practice for the upcoming journey into the Tempest.
Madness.
Martel cracked the inn’s front door open, peeking his head out beneath the overhanging awning. He scanned both directions before looking over his shoulder to the other three. “Looks clear,” he said. “Let’s go.” He opened the door and stepped into the streets of Kalis. Caru braced himself, held his breath for a moment and tightened his hands into fists. Two steps brought him outside, and rain slicked his hair against his scalp in seconds. It was a shock, like being awakened with a bucket of water. He shivered, exhaled, and then embraced the deluge. It wasn’t so bad once he got used to it. Uncomfortable, but not insurmountable.
Kimke came next, followed by Mieta, who squeaked before forcing herself to adjust.
Martel motioned for them to follow as he led them away from the inn, heading west. Staying in town for the night would have been nice, but the western horizon beckoned angrily. Stray animals peered at them from between buildings. They had sense enough stay out of the rain. None made a sound, only stared silently at the passing party. Even beasts thought them fools.
Martel leaned around corners at each intersection to check other streets, motioning the others forward again when he deemed it safe to cross. Escaping the city felt like it took an eternity, shoes slapping loudly against mud, spraying water onto each other’s shins. However, it only took several minutes before they dipped through a free-standing wooden gate that marked Kalis’s western exit. This really would be the final city between civilization and the Tempest wall. Farms would dot the countryside, but Serana’s border was almost at its end before passing into the storm beyond.
Rain blinded them, slowing their flight as they wiped water from their eyes. They plodded further from the edge of the city, and their feet squished deeper and deeper into hungry mud. The ground became a greater foe the longer the storm raged.
A figure lunged onto the muddy road from the right, toward Caru. With a startled reaction, he backpedaled, slipping and falling into the mud. Two feet of spear haft cut a blurred arc into the space where he’d stood only a moment earlier. Caru pushed himself to his elbows and shoved backward from the looming figure. His right foot slipped, and Caru collapsed helplessly into cold mud. The attacker drew his spear back, aiming the metal head at Caru’s throat. The steel glistened wetly, flashing bright against the lightning
Panicking, Caru shifted his weight and rolled onto his stomach. The spear’s downward thrust plunged into the ground to his left side, stabbing where his legs had been. A blow like that wouldn’t have been fatal, only disastrous. The weapon sank deeply into the mud, leaving the man struggling to pull it free.
Arms wrapped around Caru’s waist from behind as he tried scrambling away again. He resisted for a moment before he realized they were Kimke’s and Mieta’s. He wanted to sag with shock, but he forced his feet to the ground, regaining traction as the man freed his spear. He lowered his weapon in a horizontal stance pointed at Caru.
As the spearman took his first step, Martel rushed him, shoulder held low. His tackle connected on the soldier’s hip, shaking his balance. Martel wrapped his arms around the man’s knees as he stood, pulling legs away and sending the man to his back with a loud splash. Martel then straddled him before balling his hand into a fist and hammering it into the man’s jaw. The spearman howled in pain before dropping his spear so he could wrap his arms around Martel. He tried to roll over to get on top, but stout Martel would not be moved.
With a grunt, Caru pushed himself away from the women, dropping and sliding to reach out and snatch the discarded weapon. He lifted it, holding it awkwardly as the men grappled. He made tentative jabs with the spear, but he worried he would only hurt Martel if he tried to assist.
Martel looked to Caru and noticed he held the spear. He raised his fist, slammed it into another blow, and freed himself from the man’s grip. He rolled onto his side, leaving the attacker slumped into the mud in a daze. The human shook his head and tried to regain his footing to stand, but he slipped in the mud and fell on his back again. Caru tossed the spear into Martel’s open hand. Martel gripped it and gave it a quick spin to assess its weight and balance. The weapon hummed through the storm’s rumble as Martel cut several swaths through the air. Satisfied, he gripped the shaft tightly and turned on the human.
The spearman staggered to his feet, still reeling from Martel’s blows. The spear spun in a blur, and Martel cracked the butt of the weapon against the man’s chin, snapping his head upright. The human took several tottering backward steps. With a practiced lunge, Martel slid forward and swept the spear’s haft through the man’s knees, sending him sprawling into the mud again.
Martel stepped forward and pressed the steel tip to the base of the man’s throat, just above the breastbone. “Speak!” Martel bellowed. The softness and kindness Caru had come to know had vanished as though cleansed away by the rain.
The man tensed as though considering giving more of a struggle, but he seemed to think better of it with the metal tip against his throat. “Edarian,” he said weakly.
Martel’s eyes widened, and Caru felt he might execute his opponent on the spot. Indeed, Martel’s muscles tensed. Lightning flashed, and Caru feared the hunger he saw in Martel’s eyes.
“What do you want?” Martel shouted, making himself heard over the storm’s fury.
Caru heard wet footsteps and turned to see Kimke and Mieta standing at his side. He nodded, and they all turned to watch the interrogation. Things could still turn disastrous.
“What do you know?” Martel shouted.
“Not enough,” the man said, finally letting himself collapse against the mud. Rain poured over his unprotected face. “You’re the Sentinel?” he asked, chest rising and falling in quiet laughter. “If I’d known you were with them, I would have been more careful.”
“Why are you after us?”
“Hibranth’s orders,” the spearman said.
Martel swallowed, hesitating. His previous fury softened. It wasn’t a name Caru recognized. “The general?” Martel asked. “General Hibranth?”
The man on the ground laughed again. “Higher up than that, friend. General Hibranth only issued the order, but the mission came from Theop himself.”
“Theop?”
“You three ermen are quite wanted at the moment,” the soldier said. “However, it’s Captain Ferrak you need concern yourselves with. He’ll bear down on you. He’ll silence you for good. Might even destroy your traitorous friend while he’s at it.”
Martel tensed again, the tip of the spear flashing against the lightning.
“Girl!” the grounded man shouted. She would be able to hear him over the storm. “Did they tell you they’re ermen? Did they?! Pathetic, wingless, earthbound ermen!”
Mieta cringed as she heard his words. Her shoulders hunched as Kimke wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist, motioning for her not to face the man in the mud.
“They’re not human! You’re nothing like them!”
Martel exhaled, pulled the spear back.
“They’re liars! They’re dead. Captain Ferrak will—“
No thunder drowned the sound of cold steel piercing sinew and bone. Kimke tightened her grip around Mieta’s waist before slipping an arm up to wrap around her shoulders. Kimke drew her away as Mieta cried out against Martel’s attack. Caru suspected she wouldn’t fault Martel for killing their stalker, but seeing anyone killed was a shock; Caru knew because he felt it himself, a conflict of horror and satisfaction that was hard to reconcile.
A soft purple glow formed over the eastern horizon. Darkness was running out.
“Let’s move the body,” Martel said. “Ferrak won’t need more reason to destroy us than he already has.”
It would be pointless. They wouldn’t have the time needed to properly hide the body. Ferrak would already know that one of his soldiers had gone down the western road. Their intended path was obvious, anyway.
The soldier was heavy in Caru and Martel’s arms. Kimke made sure Mieta didn’t turn to watch.
One less thing to worry about, Caru told himself, helping Martel lay the man down by a tree. One less thing to worry about, but one more name added to the list. Theop, Serana’s Blood-Emperor. Caru hated the man already on general principles, but knowing the man was directly involved in their pursuit… More madness.
The dead man rested, covered in wet leaves. The others pressed westward.