by Dan Allen
“Those blood-bound to colonies other than the ka of Port Kyner: Saleh-ka.”
“Is it even legal?” Dana asked.
“Of course. But Saleh-ka cannot hear my pleas. He cannot feel my pain. He does not come to heal my family.”
“So why did you bind yourself to this colony?”
“I simply followed my father.”
“And your children?” Dana asked.
“My twin girls will soon pledge to the colony of Saleh-ka.”
This surprised Dana. “I thought the blood-binding lasted for four generations?”
“This pool would recognize my kin, yes. But they are born empty of any sayathi. They may join whatever colony they desire. It is their choice.”
“Then why join Saleh-ka?” Dana asked.
“The ka are gathering strength. The world is far too dangerous for isolated far-sworn.”
Dana gave the woman a quizzical look.
“I have seen teen boys break the wall between two colonies to watch the sayathi war. The smaller colony will usually submit, surrendering their bloodstone rather than die.”
“So, the larger the colony, the better chance it has to survive an attack?” Dana guessed.
“Yes. Torsica has long watched our growing cities from across the Sayathi Sea. Our population is nearly equal to the old continent. If we don’t support our ka, they won’t stand a chance against the Torsican supremes.”
“Why don’t you take the bloodstone?” Dana asked, pointing to the spire in the center of the pond. “You could be ka over everyone bound to the pool.”
The woman looked utterly disgusted by the suggestion. Her voice became instantly indignant. “One does not exalt oneself. The colony and all the blood-sworn must decide it.” She gave Dana a concerned look. “The Creator gave us our will. To take it forcibly is like murder. There is no higher crime.”
“And what if you touched the stone by accident?”
The woman laughed, as if amused by Dana’s ignorance. Then she looked in the direction of the port. Dana, too, could see more Port Kyner citizens walking along the coral sand beach. It was time to go.
Dana turned to collect her blanket, tucked it under her arm, and crossed over the sand bar. She walked swiftly along the sandy ground between the trees lining the stone-paved trade road and the beach dunes.
The coast was heavily populated. She would likely reach another village in only a short while. The key was to stay ahead of the rangers hunting her. With luck, they would still be waiting for her at the port.
She hoped Jila and Turigan hadn’t run into trouble for aiding her. Thoughts of the kind bargemen filled her with a sense of warmth.
Dana walked another mile before she stopped and slapped herself in the forehead. “Why am I walking?” Greeders were far more common in the coastal forests than in the highlands.
Dana crossed the trade road and waded into the jungle. She refilled her canteen from a pitcher blossom, then sat down and closed her eyes.
She sensed a greeder only a quarter mile away. With a suggestion of curiosity, it began moving her way.
Perfect. I’ll reach the canyon to Shoul Falls before nightfall.
* * *
Traven was not a patient man. The two bargemen chained to the wall of the cellar had yielded nothing so far in relation to the girl from Norr.
That would change very soon.
The taller of the prisoners raised his head and stared at Traven. His wrists were chained to the wall with iron manacles, his face was puffy with bruises, and his eye was swollen shut. The corner of his mouth bled freely. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It was the same answer as before, but now his voice was breathy and weak.
“The girl from Norr was seen in your company. You will tell me where she went.” He looked at the shorter of the men. “I know some very painful ways to die.” Fear flickered in the prisoner’s eyes as a spinning scorpion descended on a thread of silk and hung in front of his eyes.
The prisoner was tight-lipped. It wouldn’t matter if they were too swollen to talk. Perhaps the other prisoner would talk when he saw his friend in pain.
Traven pushed a thread of will into the scorpion, and it reached out and pulled itself to the man’s face.
“Stop toying with them,” snapped a female voice. Boots clacked on the wooden steps.
At last!
Traven had no doubt his methods would have delivered the information. But the enchantress was quicker.
“It’s about time you showed up, Poria.” Traven released the scorpion, and it swung to the floor and skittered away.
“Yes. Time is the one thing we do not have. Vetas-ka is losing patience. Stand aside.”
Traven glared at the enchantress as she stepped into the light of the lantern hanging from the ceiling of the cellar. Not a strand of her long, silver hair was out of place. She obviously hadn’t been hurrying to get to Port Kyner. But at least the crow he had sent had delivered his note.
“And you must call me Porien, brother Traven,” she reminded. “I am a full kazen now.” Her smile was as pale as her skin.
“Just get on with it,” Traven said through gritted teeth.
Poria stood between the prisoners and removed her black gloves. She handed them to Traven.
He tossed them into the corner.
“Which of you has the better memory?” Poria stepped toward the shorter man. “It’s you.” She reached out her thumb and brushed the bare skin at the bottom of his neck, then set down one finger at a time until her hand was clasped around his throat.
The man twitched. He shook from head to foot, fighting the will that coursed through him.
“Ah, I see her now.” Poria’s gaze narrowed. “She’s a pretty thing—dark hair, sad eyes—her sifa aren’t even fanned.” She laughed politely as she released her grip and squeezed the man’s cheeks. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She spun on her heels. “The ranger was wrong. Your little fish jumped out of the river. That’s twice she’s been underestimated.”
“Yes, but where is she? Where is the stone?”
“She went into the jungle,” Poria said. “She’s out of my sight now, so she must have gone southwest.”
Traven nodded. “So she wasn’t trying to leave by ship. She must be taking the stone back to Shoul Falls!” Misdirection. The girl was resourceful and obviously knew the area well. It was only a matter of getting her out in the open. “I’ll have a saber panther tear out her throat—the little beast.”
“She is a gift of the Creator.” The prisoner who spoke lifted his head.
“A feeble drale,” Traven said, as he brushed a bit of spattered blood from one of the brass buttons of his waistcoat with a handkerchief. “A pestilence among us.”
“Your ka is a pestilence.”
Traven drew a knife. Without a second thought, he slashed at the prisoner.
“Jila!” cried the other prisoner, his hands strained against the manacles that bound him to the wall.
“You could have at least had the decency to do it when I didn’t have to feel it!” Poria hissed. “It’s disconcerting.”
“It had to be done,” Traven said. “He cursed Vetas-ka. They have no more use.” Traven looked down at his waistcoat, which was now far messier than it had been before. “We know where she’s headed.”
The smaller prisoner pulled in vain at his shackles. The death of his friend had left him in a mad rage. “And I know where you’re headed—to the place of demons. But don’t worry, you won’t have to endure eternal torment alone. Your cursed ka will join you.”
Traven silenced the other prisoner with a second slash of the knife. “Gather the faithful. Jovesten can take us by balloon directly to the mouth of the Shoul River Canyon. This girl will come to us.”
Poria folded her arms. “But that canyon is only a half day from Shoul Falls. We can’t let her cross the entire jungle unimpeded. We must send in the guards to search for her.”
/> “I’m not taking any chances after what happened to Omren,” Traven snapped. The younger kazen was drunk on her own power. She lacked experience. “Would you want to face a druid in a jungle? No. I’ll send word ahead to the guards. If she tries to stop at a village for food, we’ll have her all the quicker.”
Chapter 16
Dana urged the greeder forward. Its pace accelerated, long legs gobbling up ground as it raced through low ferns.
South Aesica boasted larger greeders—war-ready varieties. But they were no match for the raw speed of a northern forest greeder.
In clearings, the grass passed in an urgent green blur that left Dana exhilarated. With every passing blade and branch, every passing stream the greeder leapt and soared over, the feeling of freedom grew. Norr was gone to her. What awaited in Shoul Falls was the beginning of a new life in a place where she would actually be appreciated—perhaps even revered.
She didn’t know exactly what she would do with the bloodstone when she got there. Getting it back to Shoul Falls was the right thing to do. That much was obvious. How and when she actually returned it to the citizens or the kazen of the sanctum was something she would have to decide when she had more information. For now, it was enough to be free of Norr, the civic guard, the rangers, and with luck, any Vetas-kazen who might have tracked the bloodstone to Norr.
Muscles aching from the effort of riding bareback, Dana traveled as far as the greeder could without stopping to feed. Six hours of hard riding took her farther than any pursuers on foot could have hoped to travel. The greeder’s long stride had easily eaten up the miles as it sped through the underbrush—too fast even for a rhynoid to drop and strike.
But as she emerged from the jungle into the foothills of the barrier range, Dana abandoned her greeder to keep a lower profile. She approached the deserted highway on foot.
A sign post indicated the village of Jahr was only a half mile away. It was little more than an outpost nestled at the mouth of a canyon that led to Shoul Falls.
Perfect.
Hungry and exhausted, she stumbled toward the outskirts of the village. In the distance, visible above the thinning trees, smoke rose invitingly from several chimneys in the village proper. As the vegetation grew sparser, she spied several farmhouses on the opposite side of the highway. She could beg a loaf of bread or perhaps a warm meal from any of them. According to Norrian trader knowledge, the creed of the Jahrians required kindness to travelers in order to curry the favor of their aged ka.
Coming around a tree, she neared the crossing of the canyon road and the foothill route. From between two branches of a tall bush, she spied two men loitering at the crossing. They stood back-to-back just off the paver stones marking the crossing.
There were lots of reasons two men might be at a crossroads with nothing better to do than wait around. Not so many good reasons as bad ones.
They were not rangers, and their close-cropped hair and sleeveless jackets spoke of a warmer climate.
Torsicans?
Possibly. She would have to hear their accents to be sure. One man faced one quarter toward her, his head turning slowly, all six sifa flat and tight against his neck.
What could he be afraid of? Dana wondered.
But it was his eyes that told his secret. He wasn’t waiting.
He was watching.
The difference was obvious to a druid who had spent her life observing predators and their prey. A saber panther waited for sundown to hunt. A hunting saber panther watched for prey.
Dana shivered. It’s me they’re hunting.
How did they get ahead of me?
Disappointment struck her at her weakest point. She was hungry and saddle sore and desperate for rest. Dana had half a mind to turn herself in, so long as she didn’t have to travel any further. But she wanted to live even more desperately. Keeping the bloodstone out of the hands of Vetas-ka was somewhere in between.
The men looked to be unarmed, but they could have throwing knives, perhaps even crossbows stashed nearby. She remembered the trappers, how they had easily outrun her and were far stronger.
I must not be seen.
The nearer of the men kicked a rock. “I’m tired of waiting. Let’s go back. There’s only one traveler’s inn. She’s bound to show up at it.”
Dana’s breath caught in her throat. Getting food had been her first thought on seeing the village.
“Quiet,” said the other Torsican. “The crow’s note said Kazen Poria is coming by airship from the port. When she does,” he cracked his knuckles, “she’ll sense the druid. In the meantime, we do our job and we get paid.”
Poria. So, they had an enchanter tracking her and a druid sending messages. Omren was right. There were other kazen, and thugs like these men as well.
If Vetas-ka had men in Jahr and Kyner, then why not Shoul Falls?
She could be headed into the back of a net.
It was a chilling thought. But stopping was not an option, not with kazen following her.
Dana looked in the direction of the port, but the foothills hid much of the sky. Hydrogen airships were expensive and dangerous. In mountainous places like Norr they were all but unheard of. But the prevailing winds came from the east—from the sea. It was the quickest way to get inland.
Dana looked up again, and this time she saw a speck in the distance.
Ka of Xahna!
There was an airship. The kazen had to be fabulously wealthy.
It was dropping fast.
I’ve got to move. Now.
Dana crept back into the cover of the forest. However talented the Torsican enchantress was, Dana doubted her power could reach more than a fraction of a mile. But perhaps with power lent from her ka, she could double or triple that.
And the enchantress would be only minutes behind Dana.
Once she was out of sight of the crossroads, Dana sprinted ahead, climbing into the foothills where isolated trees offered fragmented cover.
Speed was all that mattered now. Half-starved, Dana thrashed ahead through tall grass that lashed at her.
The clacking wheels of a steam-wagon and its puffing engine sounded along the trade road which wound a quarter mile to the north, to the village of Imdrel.
Avoiding the road, Dana took a shortcut through the scrub, hoping to gain some time. When she finally reached the shade of the canyon, she paused to catch her breath.
A misplaced thought groped her mind, a feeling that something important was lost. Dana looked down and spun around. She didn’t see anything on the ground.
But Dana realized she had nothing to lose. She was out of food. The only thing left on her was the bloodstone and the canteen from the kind Torsican bargemen.
I should just turn back. It’s useless.
No! It’s Poria. She’s here.
The enchantress’s thought had been dropped so naturally into Dana’s frenzied mind that she could scarcely distinguish it from her own. If she couldn’t trust her own thoughts, escaping was going to be next to impossible. Her only hope was distance.
Go!
Dana sprinted to the other side of a rocky outcropping, and the feeling of something reaching for her vanished. It seemed barriers helped.
Good.
Ahead, the terrain was steep. The steam-wagon roads wound back and forth in long switchbacks. A traveler on foot moving fast and light could gain the advantage over a mechanical vehicle. The worse the terrain, the more her advantage.
Dana was tired and desperate, running forward over the broken rock path, even as darkness climbed into the corners of her vision.
In minutes Kazen Poria’s mind probed her again. This time she noticed the unnatural tug. It was even stronger than before.
They had to be close.
Stop. This is silly. Just go back and explain the situation.
The thought took Dana by surprise but made total sense. Why was she running? Dana stumbled to a halt. She turned. Her thoughts glitched. No, that’s not me!
Dana clamped her hands over her head, trying not to listen to her own thoughts. It was like she was now the animal and someone else the druid.
That was the solution.
Dana gave a devious grin. She couldn’t stop Poria’s thoughts.
But I could trade them.
Dana gave a shrill screech, her voice echoing off the steep cliffs in the canyon. It did not matter that the Vetas-kazen pursuing her would hear. What mattered was the effect it had on the scampers, lichen-toads, and birds in her vicinity. As she reached out to the animals her mind filled with dozens of fleeing urges. She opened her mind to theirs, drawing the urge to flee from the creatures. As she did, panic surged up within her.
Her heart racing with imported fear, Dana ran like the great destroyer itself had come for her soul. Scrambling over a rock slide, she sprinted through low scrubby trees.
The thoughts of stopping and turning back were distant now, echoing to her from a dozen animals in the wood.
Dana laughed. By trading her will for the animals’, the enchanter’s bidding was now impressed on every small creature in the area. And Dana had no desire but to flee in panic. The animals, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to follow Poria’s urges.
In moments, the enchanter would be surrounded by the accidentally summoned creatures.
Dana smiled as she imagined a veritable horde of small furry and frill-necked creatures darting up to the enchanter, possibly expecting to be fed.
Two birds took flight heading back in the direction Dana had come. She watched their flight lines, heading for the enchanter. The line pointed to a copse of pine trees only a few hundred yards away.
If the enchanter was that close, then the men that had waited for her in the village could already be ahead, the hound flushing the prey toward the hunters. It was a sobering realization. Even if she escaped from the enchanter, she would run right into a trap.
According to the road sign a half mile back, this steep rise was all that separated her from the city of Shoul Falls.
They’ll be waiting at the top, she thought, just like the other villages. This close to the city, there would be no avoiding the ambush if she went straight for Shoul Falls.
I need another way.
