by Beth Alvarez
He crouched close to Ashyl, gripping a branch overhead to aid his stability. She was closer to the trunk, and he was subtly aware of the way she shifted closer to him. A thread of uneasiness trailed through his mind and he glanced down, but she didn't seem threatening. Instead, her brow furrowed with concern as she pressed near to his side. Seeking protection? Or comfort? Either one struck Tahl as odd, but she wasn't hurting anything, so he didn't try to dissuade her.
Distant voices carried near enough to give away the guards' location, but it was impossible to make out the words. The bored tones in those voices told Tahl everything he needed to know. They wouldn't discuss anything important or useful while they were on the road. At night, when they met to review orders and plan accordingly, he might have heard something they could use, but he'd dealt with the Elite enough for one lifetime. Without thinking, he touched the scar that marred his face.
Unexpectedly, Ashyl touched his arm and gave him a look of sympathy. He blinked at her for a moment before he lowered his hand and waited for the noise to pass. His legs grew stiff beneath him before he decided it was safe.
When he dropped from the tree, his thieves followed.
“They're a good mile and a half north by now,” Jeran said as his gaze swept up the road carved into the countryside. “What do we do?”
“Not rest,” Tahl said. “We'll cut into the hills and try to get past them. Keep rest breaks short. We're going to need to get as far ahead of that group as possible.”
“Why?” Hadren asked. “What are you instincts telling you?”
Behind them, Oria made her noisy descent from her tree.
Tahl turned to fix her with a stare, considering that question. The queen had seemed disdainful of the way he operated, relying on gut feelings and intuition to lead the way. His crew seemed to take it in stride. Until he'd noted her uncertainty, he'd never found that odd.
Something to think on later, he told himself as he checked to make sure he had his things and finally answered Hadren's question. “That they're after the same thing we are.”
Chapter 13
The hills were cold.
Tahl fought to keep his teeth from chattering as he trekked over the fresh snow and down the long slope between one rise and the next. Moving kept him warm enough that he wouldn't suffer, but the wind still bit.
They moved single-file to hide their number, but there was no hiding the trail in the fresh powder. The snow wasn't deep, nor was the snowfall heavy, but it would take several hours of sun the next morning to eliminate the sinuous line they'd left behind.
Ashyl had suggested they cut as far west as possible. Tahl considered it wise advice, but that took them higher into the hills than he'd anticipated. The terrain was not difficult to climb, but the incline slowed them down. They set a hard pace to compensate. Under the cover of night, when they didn't have to worry about being seen, they moved faster.
Levity had evaporated with the knowledge the Elite trekked north. Behind him, Tahl heard the quiet conversation that passed between the others. He made no effort to join. His mind was elsewhere.
Bahar Eseri's name hadn't been common knowledge until he'd been tried and found guilty. The evidence that tied him to the old guild had been powerful, undeniable, and the man's death was part of what had instilled fear of the Ghost—of Tahl—in the city. If Lord Eseri had lived, there was no way the man would have allowed Tahl, of all people, to seize power over Orrad's thieves.
Someone could have adopted the name, Tahl supposed. It carried weight and a reputation. Had Lord Eseri been alive, pretending to be him might have offered valuable connections to smugglers. But why take the name of a man widely known to be dead?
“Hadren,” Tahl called absently, his voice almost carried away by the wind.
The man hiked up to join him.
Tahl wouldn't confess to being short of breath or out of energy, but their newfound need for speed had pushed him to his limits. “Take lead for a bit, will you? All the fresh snow's making my toes numb.”
“Sure, boss.” Hadren inched ahead and Tahl fell back to join the others. For the first time, he found himself envious of Oria's wool cloak.
Everyone looked tired. They'd opted for cat naps instead of setting up for hours at a time, uncertain how fast they had to move to beat the Elite to the valley between mountain ridges where the shipment was sure to come through.
Now and then, Tahl sent one of his crew back toward the road to monitor progress. From a hill or two over, it was easy to see the winding road, but none of them were familiar with the route and no one was certain how far it was safe to stray. The notion someone should go look again had just crossed Tahl's mind when Hadren's voice rose from ahead.
“Hey, boss?” Hadren crouched at the top of the hill and spoke again, lower. “You're gonna want to see this.”
Concerned, Tahl jogged ahead to crouch beside him.
Below, the hills fell away in gentle slopes to leave a wide, sprawling valley. Shadowy shapes marked with tiny, glittering lights inched along the roadway that snaked toward the northwest.
“Lanterns?” Ashyl whispered as she knelt on Tahl's other side.
“Looks like a caravan,” Tahl murmured.
“Wagons,” Hadren confirmed. “Blight it, I thought the snow would make it easier to see. All those bare patches on the slopes make it confusing.”
Tahl squinted up at the moon. “Snow's going to make it hard for us to get down the slope without notice.”
Jeran and Oria joined them a moment later. The queen peered down without comment.
“So do we think this is who we're looking for?” Ashyl asked.
It was impossible to tell from atop a hill at least half a mile away. Tahl rubbed his chin. “Traveling through the night certainly isn't normal.”
“So we send someone to check,” Hadren said. “Who's most qualified to sneak up on a caravan, get into a wagon, and check out the cargo?”
All eyes turned to Tahl. He bit the inside of his lip and drummed his fingers against the cold, damp earth. “We're going to need to work out a signal if it is what we think it is. If I make it in, it'll be easier for me to stay put and have the rest of you come help.”
“Which means you need a plan before you go down there,” Oria said. “I suspect instinct doesn't lead your colleagues nearly as much as it does you.”
“No,” Tahl agreed. He studied the caravan train through narrowed eyes. “From here, I can't tell if those lanterns are lamps or mage-lights. I guess it doesn't matter. I can work with both.”
“A light signal?” Ashyl asked.
He nodded. “I know we haven't used those as much as the hand signals. I'll keep it simple. I'll signal 'help' if I find what we're looking for. If I don't, I'll signal 'no' and meet you back on this hill.”
“The caravan's moving pretty steadily south,” Hadren said. “We'll keep pace with it up here.”
“Just make sure you stay out of sight.” Tahl shot Oria a meaningful look before he waved them all back.
Jeran took the queen by the arm and gently tugged her down the slope they'd just climbed. Ashyl and Hadren flattened themselves against the top of the hill as Tahl began his downward trek alone.
Avoiding the snow patches meant taking a more circuitous route that put Tahl farther ahead of the caravan. It was safer to hide in the hollows beside the road and wait for the wagons to pass than to try to catch up from behind. He huddled against the hillside, regretting his lightweight clothing a little more with each minute that passed. Snow was not uncommon in Orrad, but it rarely accumulated within the city, where the heat of life was insulated by stone. Tahl crossed his arms over his chest and tried to stay focused.
The caravan crawled toward him, providing ample time to study the distribution of wagons and people. There were a surprising number of gaps in their security. Those who rode alongside the caravan seemed more like travelers than guards, milling about to converse with one another instead of remaining posted near the ga
ps between wagons or taking up the rear. Tahl counted seconds between movements, searching for a pattern, but there seemed to be none.
Not what I'd expect from a caravan carrying weapons, he mused.
The first few wagons rolled past his sheltered nook without drivers or riders noticing him. Tahl waited until the last wagon passed, then darted toward the unguarded back. It was the easiest point of entry, which meant he was unlikely to find anything, but one never knew. The less they guarded whatever they hauled, the less likely it was anyone would find them memorable.
The back of the covered wagon was closed with nothing more than cloth flaps and Tahl leaped in without resistance or notice. He landed with little sound, his hands braced against the wagon's floorboards. Part of him was surprised there was space at the back of the wagon, but it wasn't as full of cargo as he expected.
Boxes and sacks lined the wagon's walls with a narrow walkway between them. Tahl crept between them, their shapes near-impossible to make out in the dark. What little light there was came from the moon, a dim sliver of illumination that flashed every time the wagon swayed.
He tugged open a sack and promptly shut it, unimpressed. Dried beans were hardly the makings of warfare. A gentle probing of the other sacks indicated they held similar goods. A barrel at the back held salted fish. Frowning, he turned his attention to the boxes. Those that were sealed were not sealed well, nor did they hold any muskets. Determined to be thorough, Tahl checked them all. Then he sat back on his heels, tapping his fingers against his thighs.
Was it worth checking the other wagons? He supposed he had to, though he hadn't spent much time thinking about how he'd get there.
Something to figure out in the process, he told himself with a wry smile. Slowly and silently, he slipped out the back of the apparent supply wagon and kept pace close behind it, his footsteps soundless beneath the groaning axles and the squelch of wheels on roads made soggy by melting snow.
For a moment, Tahl considered trying to go up and over the top of the wagon, but the cloth covering made that seem like an unappealing and unlikely possibility. Instead, he peered around the wagon's sides and waited for an opportunity to move. Part of him wished he could hide behind a smokescreen. Most of him knew that would be foolish. Still, the thought played in the back of his mind as he waited for the people on horses to move out of the way.
People, he thought again. Not soldiers, not men. Both men and women rode alongside the caravan, conversing in low voices. One of the riders wove between the wagon Tahl shadowed and the one in front of it.
A small opportunity.
He took it.
In the split second the wagon's driver was distracted, Tahl darted into the shadows just off the side of the road and arced up to the next wagon in line. He approached it from the side, shoved the rough canvas covering up a few inches, and wriggled his way inside.
He bumped into something soft and warm and froze.
Whatever it was, it didn't move. Tahl pivoted on his toes and stayed crouched as he craned his neck to see where he'd landed. Oh, for the love of leaves.
Instead of cargo, the wagon was filled with sleeping children.
This is definitely not the caravan we're looking for. Tahl gripped the frame of the wagon's covering as the rough terrain under the wheels made the wagon sway. He chewed his lip and closed his eyes. If there had been any mages in the caravan, he would have sensed them when they came near. Still, he focused his attention on his Gift and searched for power in anyone else nearby.
When nothing tickled his senses, he shifted his thoughts to the lanterns he knew were by the driver's feet. The flame called to him, as fire always did. Weak as his own power was, getting it to bend to his will would be the hard part. Tahl set his jaw. He didn't need much, just enough of a flicker to send the signal.
To his surprise, the flame leaped to answer. It flared brighter in his senses and his heart skipped a beat. Not brighter, dim. In an instant, its presence dwindled. He drew it back to life and made it dim again, blinking the pattern his crew would be waiting for.
“Oi,” a voice rose from right outside. “Check that lantern, will you? It's flickering something fierce.”
Hoofbeats drew closer. Tahl released his magic and opened his eyes. Moonlight illuminated a child's face peering up at him, round and pale with dark eyes glittering in curiosity.
Startled, Tahl stared back for longer than he ought. Then he offered a nervous grin and lifted a finger to his lips to ask for silence.
A guarded look crossed the boy's face.
Tahl couldn't blame him. What must he look like, crouching in the back of a wagon with knives bristling from his belt and wrists?
But the boy didn't scream. Instead, when Tahl lowered his hand, the child shifted in the blankets and squinted as if to see him more clearly. “Who're you?”
“The Ghost,” Tahl whispered.
The boy's eyes grew wide. How far had his reputation carried?
Before the child could act, Tahl motioned for him to wait. His sleight of hand was useful for more than just lightening purses, and he showed the boy his empty hands before flexing his fingers and making a silver coin appear.
The boy's eyes grew wider still.
“I was looking for someone,” Tahl whispered. “He's not here. Try to forget you saw me.” He offered the single pim between his first two fingers.
The boy's chubby hand reached for it, but the wagon lurched.
“Whoa, now. What's that?” someone outside called.
Tahl glanced toward the wagon's rear flaps and then turned an ear toward the wagon's front.
Horses huffed as the caravan came to a stop. The riders moved ahead.
“State your business,” another voice called, farther away.
Tahl winced and pushed the coin into the boy's waiting fingers. He motioned for silence again and slid out the wagon's side, the same way he'd gotten in.
“We're farmers,” someone else answered. “Packed up our families to move back to the capital. Our field's to sit fallow this coming year. We thought it best to travel before winter.”
The statement yielded an unimpressed grunt. “Check the wagons,” a man ordered.
Tahl ducked underneath the wagon. It wasn't exceptionally large, but he could barely suspend himself between the axles to press his back against the underside of the bed. The wheels turned slowly as the wagon's driver positioned for inspection.
A pair of familiar boots passed by and Tahl made himself grow still.
The Elite.
Of course.
“This roadway is now closed,” the soldier at the head of the caravan said. “Imperial business only.”
“Closed?” a man exclaimed. “This is the only road to Orrad.”
Tahl watched the boots circle the wagon he hid under, mindful to keep his breath quiet. Above him, children stirred and small, worried voices rose into the night. Concern edged its way into his mind. They wouldn't do anything to children, would they?
“Nothing unusual at a glance, sir,” one of the Elite called. Two pairs of boots trudged back toward the front. “Should we take a closer look?”
With the soldiers gone, Tahl eased himself back to the ground. The wagons had shifted while he hid. Instead of single-file, they now waited in a wide row. He could have escaped easily, but instead he inched backwards and stood by the back of the wagon, listening.
“No,” the commander said. “There's no need. They're not what we're looking for.”
Which indicated the Elite were after the same thing as the queen. Did she know? Or was it an ill stroke of luck that the emperor had decided to humor her concerns only after she'd disappeared?
The commander's voice hardened as he addressed the drivers or riders. Tahl didn't know which and supposed it didn't matter. “Have you encountered anyone else on this road who might impede our travel?”
“Another group,” a woman said. “Camped a ways north. They're why we decided to keep moving through the night. Unfr
iendly lot.”
Now that sounded like what Tahl was after.
“Well, we'll see them move, too,” the Elite said. “You need to get your wagons off this road. There's a smaller access road farther east. If you cut due east across this field, you'll find it.”
Tahl retreated into the shadows. The caravan had rolled on some distance, but he doubted his companions had experienced any difficulty in following. Instead of backtracking, he trekked straight into the hills, weaving around the snowy patches that decorated the slopes.
He couldn't hear or see his thieves, but he knew they were there. Once he crested the hill, Tahl stopped trying to hide.
“Always pushing your boundaries, aren't you, boss?” Ashyl asked from somewhere in the dark.
A small tingle of surprise and concern ran through him when she stood, not an arm's reach away. He'd wanted to be detected, but that he hadn't detected her first left him unsettled. He skimmed the hillside for the others and found Jeran before the man rose. Oria and Hadren did not appear to be present.
“We figured we'd be more effective without the queen in tow,” Jeran said, as if predicting what Tahl would ask. “We left them on the next hill over. Close enough if we needed them, but far enough back to be out of the way.”
Tahl nodded once. “We're headed back north. We'll pick them up along the way.”
“You sound like you have a plan,” Ashyl said.
“Right now, my plan is to get as far away from the Elite as possible.” Tahl jerked his head toward the north and turned to lead the way. “That caravan down there was inspired to keep moving by another group they say is camped up north. If we can hit them while they're settled, it'll make our job a thousand times easier.”
Jeran made a soft hmming sound. “I'm not sure I'd agree with that math.”
“I'm a thief, not a mathematician,” Tahl replied. “The only counting I do is coins, after I've gotten away with them.”
“That's not true,” Ashyl said unhelpfully. “You've got entire books full of numbers you're always scribbling together. You're no professor, but you're definitely some kind of scholar.”
