by Candy Nicks
* * * *
Darkness fell and no sign of Finn. How could he stay away so long? Doesn't he realise how worried I must be?
"How is she?"
"Oh, Tragiria.” Naima beckoned her old nurse into the bedroom. “Come in, she's sleeping. I sent Father downstairs to eat."
"Any better?” Tragiria cast a swift assessing glance over Carine's sleeping form. “She doesn't seem as restless."
"A little calmer, yes. Too early to say when the tide will turn.” If it ever does.
"Maryam and Calinda are bringing over their Crystals. They want to lead a healing and prayer circle. Will Ancel allow it?"
"He'd be a fool to refuse any help. Yes, he'll be all right with it, I'll tell him they're coming.” Naima glanced at her wrist chronometer. “Would you think it terrible of me if I left you with her for an hour or so? I need to go somewhere. I won't be long."
"Finn? I thought he went back to the hut?"
"No. Brynn checked for me. He also went by Kandar's house and he hasn't seen Finn since this afternoon. I'll never forgive Kandar, and I'm worried about Finn. He can't see well, and he was so upset ... Is it too awful of me to leave her?"
Tragiria settled herself into the chair beside the bed and pulled yarn and a crochet hook from her apron pocket. “Not when she's in such good hands. Take someone with you. You shouldn't be wandering in the dark. Not with so many strangers around."
"I'll take Brynn. He told me to call for him if Father let me go."
"It would be wise to ask.” The crochet hook picked up a stitch and flew in and out of the yarn wrapped around Tragiria's deft fingers.
Very old fingers. A lump rose in Naima's throat at the sight of the knotted knuckles and soft, sun-freckled skin. Her surrogate mother was in the late winter of her life and soon she would take the Companion's hand and make the last journey to her reward. Naima hugged her briefly and murmured an old Eagle prayer that the journey be short and the reward great. Tragiria had been the bridge between the life she might have had and the life she had now.
"I'll watch her, and listen out for the children,” Tragiria said. “I don't expect Sol to sleep much tonight. Poor thing."
"I'll call in to say goodnight to him."
"Conflicted loyalty is one of life's hardest lessons.” Tragiria patted her gently. “Be proud of the way you're managing it. You're a credit to the house of Faylar, and to your husband to be. But be aware that if you juggle too many balls in the air, you'll be bound to drop some. Just be sure you keep hold of the important ones."
Naima pulled Carine's bedclothes down a little to give her heated body a chance to breathe. Carine's eyes opened slowly, as if they were too heavy for her. “Did he find them?” she said. “She's sending him. She told me."
"Not yet. Sleep, Carine. You need to get well.” Naima turned away, biting her lip to stop herself saying any more.
"She'll give him a reason to go."
Carine's voice sounded clear and sure. Naima had no illusions who the She was.
"Does she want something?” Tragiria frowned at the cryptic message, half-rising from her seat to check that the words really had come from Carine. Carine grasped the old woman by the sleeve while Naima watched with morbid fascination and a wildly beating heart.
"She says I'm to take his sins. Hold them until he comes back. He needs to be pure, you see."
"There, there. Of course you must.” Tragiria looked back at Naima, a pitying smile on her lips. “Go on,” she said. “I'm sure Ancel will be back up soon."
Naima fled the room, almost forgetting to call in on Sol, so desperately did she want to get away from this latest revelation. Whichever way they stepped, the path brought them back to the same place. Destiny wanted her due. She took a key and opened the weapon-chest, picking out a small blast-gun.
Wrapping a coat about her shoulders, she stepped out into the chill spring night. The darkened sky was alive with the flutter of batwings, the moons barely visible through the streaked clouds. The violent storms would soon pass, spring giving way to the lazy, sun-drenched days of summertime. She wanted to take Finn swimming in the Great Ocean. Lie with him in the meadow. Make love under the stars and indulge in all the other romantic nonsense she'd always dreamed of. Who wanted to go traipsing half-way across the world on some fool's quest that would invariably get them killed?
She spotted the dark shape of her father, sitting on a garden bench. He threw something down to the dog stretched out at his feet and turned to her. “What?” he said with alarm.
"She's sleeping, peacefully. Tragiria's with her. Father, would you mind if I stepped out for some air?"
Ancel narrowed his eyes at the sight of the blast-gun. “All right. Don't be long. And don't go alone."
"Brynn's coming with me. We need to find Finn."
"Good. You need to find him first."
"Before the bounty-hunters?"
"Don't leave the Settlement. And take Dargo with you.” Ancel poked the reclining hound with his foot. “Guard Naima,” he ordered. The dog immediately sprang to its feet, muscles quivering.
"Thank you, Father. I'll be back soon."
His watching gaze made her feel self-conscious as she let herself out of the back gate, the dog trotting by her side. Tragiria had spoken wisely. Take on too much and there wouldn't be enough of her to go around.
Two things were important right now. Finn and Carine. While everyone else floated peacefully near to the shore, those two were in grave danger of being taken by the wave and washed up only the Gods knew where.
Brynn waited at the end of the track, one hand holding a cigarette, the other tucked into the pocket of his short leather jacket. Finn had left his own jacket behind. Would he be warm enough?
"Where do you want to start?” Brynn took one last drag of the roll-up. Dropped it to grind underfoot. “Song hates these.” He reached out a hand to allow the dog to take his scent. “Kind of a hard habit to break, though. Is your gun fully-armed?"
"I think so.” She slid the blast-gun from her shoulder and pressed the indicator-light. “Damn, it's a bit low on charge."
"No worries."
Brynn pulled his own larger gun from his back and tucked it between his elbow and body, finger ready on the trigger. A long, sheathed knife bumped his hip. He wore his weapons with an easy familiarity. She guessed he would kill without question if required. Her father, too, had many deaths on his hands, although he always insisted he'd never taken pleasure in killing. Did that make it right?
"You haven't asked about Carine."
"Figured Ancel wouldn't have let you go if she wasn't rallying."
"She's not invulnerable, though she thinks she is."
Brynn steadied his gaze, taking in the moon-washed light of the deserted lane. “I have to keep believing it. Carine's a talisman, the one who keeps everyone anchored. You must feel it. Without her, we'd all be drifting and lost. Do you think he left the Settlement?"
"I don't know. He's been gone so long, it's possible."
"Let's try the gate guards."
Naima followed, already certain that had Finn left the Settlement he would have done so unrecognised. Brynn limped towards the gate guard while she waited, scanning the shadows near the wall. The dog disappeared into a gap between the wall and a store-shed. Naima peered through the mildew-covered window of the wooden building. Perhaps Finn had taken shelter from the rain and fallen asleep? Meeting your prospective in-laws must be exhausting at the best of times without having to pretend normality. She turned the door handle and found it locked.
Brynn returned, shaking his head. “No one's seen him leave. Shall we do a circuit?"
"They wouldn't have seen him, no. I think he's gone out there."
"To do what? Confront them? Did he have access to any weapons?” Brynn bent to look her in the eye, making her squirm with the intensity of his gaze. “He's more than just a runaway, isn't he?"
"Brynn, will you trust me on this?” Her voice broke, despite her det
ermination to weather this storm without complaint. “Everything's getting so complicated. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold it all. Why doesn't Finn realise I'd be worried sick about him? And Carine? We put too much onto her shoulders. She's collapsing under the burden."
"Saving people is what Carine does."
"No, it's what we make her do. She's always compensating for our weaknesses."
Brynn shook his head. “Come on, let's walk and talk. Would you call your father weak?"
"No."
"And still Carine felt the need to take his burdens onto herself. Part saint, part control freak. That's what she is.” Brynn gave a short dry laugh. “Used to make him so mad. But what do you expect when a Moon Child hooks up with an Eagle warrior? You've no idea of the things she put herself through for him."
"You know?” Naima glanced at him, surprised he'd managed to keep the secret so close.
"I was there.” He patted his scarred hip, causing the dog to sniff hopefully at his pocket. “Have this to remind me of the kind of woman she is. I wanted to die for her. Got it in my head it would somehow help pay for the things she had to do."
"You did? So you know the burden she's carrying? I can't imagine the courage it would have taken for her to soul-swap with Vin. He sounds such a bastard."
Brynn stopped walking, catching her by the shoulders when she bumped into him. He steered her from the track into the shelter of a large tree and angled her face to his. “Hold on. What did you just say?"
Oh Gods, he doesn't know. “Do you know how Carine secured father's release?"
"Not specifically.” His face registered shock followed by anger. “Not until now. The pieces just fell into place. Are you telling me she's carrying that degenerate's soul?"
Naima swallowed down her wildly beating heart. Another ball to juggle with the rest. “She made me swear never to tell. Father doesn't know. Please don't let on. The truth would drive him insane."
"You're not joking. Come on, let's try down here.” Brynn left her briefly to rattle the handle of a dry-food storage bunker. “What happened to her fail-safe? Carine's too clever to have not thought this through."
"Oh Hell, I need to tell someone. Promise you won't breathe a word?"
"I know when to keep my mouth shut. Look, I think we're wasting our time here. Shall we try outside?"
"I think we should. Here boy. On guard.” The dog moved beside her, mirroring each step.
"The hunters won't necessarily connect us with Finn. We should be safe. Not many would take me on."
Naima nodded. Apart from his intimidating height, Brynn carried the scars of his experience on the outside for all to see. Few saw his more human side. Back at the gate he signed them both out and linked an arm with hers, keeping her close. The dog ran out to survey the lay of the land. It barked once and listened, head cocked, for replies.
Between the wall and the wagons and transports of the trading fair were the Settlement stalls, emptied each evening to avoid having to guard the wares. Tables and posts made eerie silhouettes in the shadow of the wall. Flapping banners looked a little sad and abandoned. Naima turned away from the herb-stall, unable to look at it without thinking of Carine. Beyond the stalls, smoke rose from fires, voices laughed and cried out. A small band played while people whooped and danced. Naima shivered.
"Picking up the vibes?"
"I know it's a dangerous world,” she replied. “But out here it feels somehow more real."
"Danger's a potent drug. Stick close and let me do the talking, right?"
"Brynn, please don't tell Carine or Father you know about the soul-swap."
"Naima, let me do the talking. Show me you're listening. You're as bad as Carine when it comes to avoiding things."
She touched her heart, smiling at his impatience. “I heard you. Did you hear me?"
"Fill me in. I guess the plan went wrong since she's still carrying the sins."
"The Goddess promised to revoke the swap. Father killed Vin before it could happen. That's why she's never told him. How would you feel, knowing you'd destroyed her last chance of redemption?"
Brynn blew out a long breath. “I'd throw myself under a transport. Wait, let me make some enquiries. If Finn's been here he would have stood out, what with the blindness and all."
She listened to him asking after Finn, feeling strangely light-headed now she'd relieved herself of this particular burden. Brynn used his hands to indicate height, pointed to his eyes. The young man shook his head and waved them to another campfire.
"He says they know all the camp gossip. Let's go try them. Okay, things are starting to fall into place. You've noticed how odd Carine has been since Finn's arrival?"
"Yes.” She looked away, feigning interest in a burr on the dog's coat.
"So, what's his history?"
"He's a troubadour. Falsely accused of theft.” The glib lie rolled smoothly off her tongue. Brynn frowned.
"The hair-beading marks him as a Rom, right? Tell me why Carine stares at him with such longing? I've watched her, and it's not lust. More as if she's trying to force him to see her."
"You're way too perceptive, Brynn. Ask if they've seen Finn."
They had. Brynn tucked her closer when he noticed one of the travellers eyeing her appreciatively. Word of the tall blind stranger wandering the camp like a lost soul had spread. Yes, they'd seen him a couple of times. None could remember which direction he'd taken.
"Well at least we know he's been here. Gods, those griddle-cakes always smell so good on the night air. Want one?"
Despite having just eaten, the suggestion made her mouth water. “I think Dargo does too.” The dog stood, ears cocked, drooling tongue lolling. “I've nothing to trade."
"I have. Come on. Let's indulge. And shake down a bit. You'll make them suspicious if you're too tense."
Obediently, she rolled her shoulders and attempted to regulate her erratic breathing.
"Better,” he whispered, and strolled her over to an old woman who was industriously piling the fried cakes onto a sheet of paper. She rolled it and tucked in the ends. Held out a wrinkled hand for coin, then handed it to a waiting boy. He bumped them as he ran past.
Brynn gave her his best smile. “Smells good."
"You're from the Settlement?” The old woman spoke without lifting her head. “What've you got?"
"Shell bracelet.” Brynn dangled the delicately-stranded shells on his smallest finger. “Very fashionable in the City, so I hear."
"It will buy you two.” The old woman rolled a lump of meat and potato between her palms and tossed it into a bowl of flour. “You're seeking the blind man?"
"You've seen him?” Naima spoke without thinking. “When?"
The old woman looked up and held out a flat palm. “I talk more after I've been paid."
Brynn made to drop the bracelet into her palm, closing his hand around hers when she moved to take it from him. “We'd appreciate an extra cake for the dog and knowing which way the blind man went,” he said deliberately.
"I gave him a couple of these earlier today. Looked lost, he did. Everyone's seen him. Word is, he was arguing with a man by the carousel. Now give me the bracelet."
"Of course.” Brynn dropped the trinket into her wrinkled palm, bowed slightly and bestowed another charming smile.
They stepped out of the light of the old woman's fire, into the dark shade between the camps, griddle-cakes warming their hands, the grease running down their chins. The dog ate his in one gulp and nuzzled them hopefully for more. Naima gave him the last of hers and scanned the dark shapes of the wagons and transports, some beast-drawn, others powered. Were blind people considered lucky or hexed? She couldn't remember.
Stay positive. Finn was probably warming himself at some campfire.
"Will Larissa miss her bracelet?"
"Tallin will make her another one.” Brynn cocked his head to pinpoint the location of the carousel. “Over there,” he said and tugged her along. “Are you
going to give me the whole picture, or just a piece? Where does Finn fit into all this?"
Secrets are sometimes too heavy to carry alone. The trick was choosing carefully who to share them with. “I desperately need some impartial advice,” she began. “If I tell you..."
"Hey, come here.” Brynn steered her to the back of a darkened transport. One foot propped on the step, he urged her down. “Sit and tell me what's really bothering you. I may be able to help."
She sat and shook her head. “I doubt it. I just need to tell someone. Carine needs her soul cleansed and Finn's a Lupine. Do the maths."
Brynn whistled, low. “A Lupine? I thought they'd died out long ago."
"His father carries the gene. They kept him locked up as a travelling attraction and he escaped."
"Gods, I have been out of touch. Must have made them a fortune."
"Well, they're going to want him back. That's why Father must give him sanctuary. Only with Carine in the mix, it's complicated."
"And you don't know what to do?"
Naima leaned back against the metal-sided van. “Oh, I know what I should do. I know what Finn should do. Neither of us want to do it. Does that make me a bad person?"
"Don't be daft. We can't all be saints. Aren't the Soul Cleansing Stones just myths?"
"Finn says they are. Carine is convinced otherwise. She truly believes the Goddess sent him to save her."
"Well, I can understand her clutching at straws. Hold on, where's the dog gone?"
A scrabbling deep in the shadows between the transports caught her attention. “I think he went down there."
"Shh,” Brynn held up a hand. “Keep still."
Narrowing her eyes, Naima stared into the dark void. “Someone's in there,” she said, her spine prickling with awareness. She rose to a half-crouch to find herself blocked behind Brynn's brawny arm. “It's him,” she said. “I can feel him."
"Stay here. The dog's probably just found himself a rodent. I'll go and check."
"No. Don't make him feel cornered. At least let me call out."
"Keep your voice down. We don't want to attract attention or lead the hunters to him."
Her mouth was almost too dry to form words. “Finn?” she said, a quaver in her voice. “Finn, it's Naima.” From the darkness, they heard a whine. “Quiet, Dargo. Come here,” she ordered. His deep bark would alert the whole camp. She pushed Brynn's arm. “Let me go and see."
