Wanderer's Song

by P. E. Padilla

  She laughed. It was a distinctive “uh, heh-heh” that he found pleasant. “Do you really think so?”

  He cleared his throat and continued, ignoring her question. “But we don’t know you. I, for one, am not about to hand over the responsibility for keeping watch to someone I just met, no matter how tight your clothing.”

  “Do you like my clothing?” she said, opening up her cloak and swaying her torso in a way that he would not have thought possible while sitting. With an effort, he dragged his eyes back up to hers.

  “What do you want of us?” he said, changing the subject.

  She shrugged, drawing his eyes back to what her snug tunic revealed with that motion.

  “Please put your cloak back on,” he said. “It’s…chilly out. You may get sick.”

  She smiled at him and he felt himself warm. “Okay. Thank you for your concern.” She wrapped the cloak around her, but he could still see the outline of her curves.

  Aeden locked his eyes on her face, resisting the urge to look at the rest of her. There was a glint in the moonlight, and he put his head closer to hers, focusing his eyes.

  Her eyelids dropped slowly and she pursed her lips expectantly. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes again and, seeing him within inches of her face, tilted her head back to focus her eyes on him. “What are you doing?”

  His finger came up and traced a thin silver line on her left cheek. It was a scar, so fine he had missed it when talking with her during the day. Only now, this close, with the light of the moon slanting across her face, did he see it. She seemed to shudder as his finger softly moved over the line.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked.

  “I don’t even know. I’ve had it as long as I can remember. I wish I didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s ugly.” She dropped her eyes to her hands, which were in her lap. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “It’s not ugly,” Aeden said. “My people prize scars because it means you have been in danger and have come out of it alive, if not unscathed. But aside from that, I think it is beautiful. It suits you, almost invisible except in the closest scrutiny, a mark of distinction among the perfection of your beauty. I like it.” He realized his finger was still touching the skin of her cheek and he dropped his hand. His reluctant eyes scanned the camp and the darkened plains around them.

  Thankfully, Aila didn’t say anything. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked out into the darkness with him.

  It was soon time for Aeden to wake Raki. As if sensing it, Aila got up and silently made her way back to her place next to Fahtin. Aeden could just make out her wry smile as she rolled herself in her cloak and turned to face away from him. He wondered for the tenth time that evening what she was about. And then he wondered if he was better off not knowing.

  Raki took his turn at watch and Aeden got a few more hours of sleep. When he woke, first among the sleepers, Aila Ven was gone.

  “I have no idea when she left,” Raki said. “Honest, I was keeping a good watch. Why do all these things happen when I’m on duty?”

  “There is no shame, boy,” Tere Chizzit said, kneeling to inspect the ground. “She is very good at moving without being detected. I should know. No, do not blame yourself. Even I didn’t wake when she left, and that’s saying something.

  “She headed off to the southwest. I’m not sure what she’s about, but I do believe it’s better that she’s gone. I’m not sure how far we can trust that one.”

  Fahtin opened her mouth to protest, but the tracker cut her off.

  “That’s no judgment on her worth as a person, Fahtin, so don’t argue with me. I’m just saying that there is more to her than she lets on. We have a job to be about and do not need the added mystery. Perhaps another time, she would be an interesting puzzle to solve, but not right now. Not with everything else.”

  Fahtin closed her mouth and seemed mollified.

  “Is there anything missing?”Aeden asked, though he could hardly think past the image in his mind of her in the moonlight, eyes heavily lidded and lips pursed. Had she thought he wanted to kiss her? She seemed not to be bothered by it if she had. Who knew with women, though?

  The others checked their packs and supplies. There was nothing missing, not even food or water.

  “I hope she’s all right,” Fahtin said. “It’s dangerous out there.”

  “Not nearly as dangerous as being with us,” Tere said. “Besides, the woman can take care of herself. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

  He told them about witnessing her late-night rendezvous with the five attackers and how she handled herself. Aeden was suitably impressed. He wondered what weapons she had used. The blind man had not seen what were in her hands.

  The party ate a quick breakfast and headed off to the west, making straight for the mountains looming ahead of them. As they went, Aeden wondered if he’d ever see Aila Ven again. He wondered if he ever wanted to.

  41

  “They’re called the Heaven’s Teeth,” Tere Chizzit said, pointing to the mountains that ran from north to south as far as they could see. “Those who know them best, though, just call them the Molars.”

  Fahtin could see why. She had seen these mountains before, of course, as they traveled by them in their wagons, but she had never been so close. They did look like molars, blocky rounded mountains that appeared to have been flattened by a great weight dropping on them. Alone among all the mountains she had ever seen, these seemed to have no real peaks to them, no sharp points. How old must they be to have had their tops worn off like that?

  In traveling with her family, Fahtin had seen many mountain ranges, but they usually took the roads going around the hilly country. Mountain roads could be treacherous, not just because of weather that could change in an instant, but because bandits seemed to prefer them. The Gypta could take care of themselves, but why chance fate? They were bound to no schedules and so could afford to go around instead of over the peaks.

  If Fahtin was honest with herself, she was excited about their path. Her Gypta blood loved seeing new places, doing new things. Despite all the constant dangers they had faced, she looked forward to going through the Heaven’s Teeth.

  “It’s a fairly straightforward path,” Tere continued. “We’ll get onto the road in a dozen miles and then follow it through the Cleft of Surus. It is a small, winding path, but well-traveled, so there should be no troubles. At this time of year, we probably won’t even find snow except on the highest part of the pass.”

  It took the party three days to make it to the other side of the mountain. As the tracker had expected, there had been no troubles. Twice the party saw other travelers on the road, both groups going the other way. Tere shared news with them, warning of the black creatures spreading across the east. None of the road-weary folk they talked to had heard of such a thing to the west. That was good, at least. Maybe Aeden and the others would be able to make it to the Academy without running into any more animaru.

  “How do you think Aila is doing?” Raki asked as they ate their evening meal the first day out of the mountains. “Do you think she made it safely to wherever it was she was going?”

  Fahtin had been thinking about the woman quite a bit herself. “I’m sure she’s fine. She seems to be very competent. After what Tere told us, I believe it even more. It’ll take more than common dangers on the road to trip that one up.”

  “True,” Urun Chinowa said, “but the world holds more than common dangers now, doesn’t it?”

  “Do you think the animaru caught up to her?” Raki asked, concern painted on his face.

  “That’s not what I meant, Raki. I—”

  “They would not bother with a lone traveler when they are so close to catching up to us,” Aeden said. “She’ll be fine. We’ll see her again.”

  “And why would you say that?” Fahtin said sharply. She wasn’t sure why, but irritation chafed at her over what Aeden had said. Or how he said it. Or someth
ing.

  Aeden met her eyes. There was no emotion there. He was relaxed and poised. “I don’t know. I just think we will. There’s really no reason for me to feel that way.”

  “I agree,” Urun said. “There’s something about that one…” He got a faraway look in his eye. “I mean, other than her obvious, uh, charisma.” The priest looked over at Fahtin and saw the glare starting to form and the edges of her mouth turning down. He quickly finished. “I’m sure she’s fine, Raki.”

  Fahtin ground her teeth. She didn’t know why she felt like slapping the men. The woman was beautiful, after all. And the way those tight clothes showed off her body, she couldn’t blame them for taking notice. Did she not play on the same attitudes with her loose, flowing clothing and her sensuous movements? Was she jealous of the smaller woman? Yes. She definitely was. It wasn’t fair, but she was.

  Fahtin sighed. Well, if she met Aila Ven again, she would have to work on not acting like a jealous little girl. She did genuinely like the stranger. She thought they could be friends. As long as she didn’t hang all over Aeden and paw him like a wild mountain cat with a hunk of meat.

  The next morning, Tere Chizzit used a stick to draw a crude map in the dirt. “We’re right here.” He pointed to a spot just to the west of the mountains they had crossed. “There is a river, the Alvaspirtu, that has its source from several tributaries north of here and is fed by mountain streams and runoff. We’ll be needing to cross it, no mean feat at any time of the year, but even more difficulr right now.

  “There are bridges, but none close. I suggest we go west until we get to the river itself and then follow it north a bit until we get to the bridge at Solesena Aurem. That one is closer than the one to the south, and the terrain is easier. As the river goes south, the land around it becomes a mass of sharp hills and cliffs that could slow us considerably. From the bridge at Solesena Aurem, it’s straight on toward the island on which Sitor-Kanda is situated.

  “The road we’re on doesn’t go to Solesena Aurem, though. It goes north, along the foot of the mountains. If we stay on it, we can get to another road leading to the bridge, but it’s more than twice the distance than if we follow the river.

  “Any questions or objections?” Tere Chizzit asked. There were none. He was by far the most qualified to set their course, and they all knew it. Fahtin, for one, was glad they had the tracker with them. Without his guidance, they would be at a loss at how to get to their destination in the most effective way. Or in any way at all.

  That got her wondering. Why was the blind man still with them? He had said he would lead them through the forest, and he had done that. She had assumed he would leave when they left the trees, but there he was, still traveling with them, speaking like he would continue on at least to the Academy. She wasn’t complaining. Far from it, she was thankful. Very thankful. She just wondered, that’s all.

  “Tere,” she said. “Thank you for helping us. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

  “Probably fall into a pit,” he said, smiling at her. “It is important work you’re about. Maybe the most important work. I intend to help in any way I can.”

  She returned his smile. “That’s kind and noble of you. We appreciate it.” The tracker mumbled something and looked away. Now she’d embarrassed him. She had expressed her thanks. She’d leave it at that.

  They made their way down through the foothills. There didn’t seem to be a rush, and Fahtin almost forgot that they’d been running for their lives for the last two months. The day was bright, and although there was a hint of a bite in the morning air from their altitude, it was a comfortable temperature for their movement. It would warm soon, the sun already poking up over the peaks they had just traversed. Fahtin’s wanderer’s blood sang with their travel.

  Tere Chizzit, up ahead a dozen feet, stiffened suddenly. They were using the narrow road they had been on for several days, so there was no reason for the tracker to scout ahead of the others. He turned his head, almost as if he was listening for something he thought he’d heard.

  “What is it?” Aeden asked him, obviously seeing the same thing Fahtin had seen.

  “I don’t know,” the blind man said. “I caught the sense of something, almost like a scent that’s barely perceptible on the wind.” He turned in a circle, his eyes closed in concentration. “Nope. Nothing. I’m probably mistaken. Pay me no mind.”

  He started down the road again. Fahtin shared a look with Aeden. They both knew better than to discount Tere’s intuition. She found herself scanning the mountainside. Aeden was doing the same thing. Raki and Urun were busy in conversation, so they had missed the exchange. She would pay attention. If there was something out there, she didn’t want to be surprised by it.

  After two hours, the tracker stopped again. This time, he scanned the country behind them more closely. His face didn’t hold much emotion, but Fahtin could see the way his eyes narrowed and the way the muscles in his jaw twitched from clenching his teeth. She didn’t want to ask him about it, didn’t want to make him more nervous. One look at Aeden told her that her friend was thinking exactly the same thing.

  “We should leave the road now, I think,” Tere said.

  As the road wound to the northeast, the party went into the trees to the northwest. They had reached the lower foothills of the mountain range and, as they crested one of the elevated places, could see out across the valley to the west. The blue of the Alvaspirtu stood out like a beacon in the midst of the green and brown of the trees and rugged cliffs. Far to the west, almost out of sight, Fahtin thought she saw more blue. Was that the inland sea, the Kanton Sea, the one in which the island home of the Academy was situated? They were getting close to their destination. Her heart fluttered at the thought.

  Raki’s gasp brought her up short. She looked over at the boy and noticed where he was looking. Back toward where they had come from. She turned to see what he had seen and felt the breath go out of her.

  From her vantage point on the hill, she could clearly see the road they had been traveling. On that road, just three small hills away, was a shape-shifting black blob. It came to the top of one of the hills and wriggled down the other side, coming right at them. It looked like a colony of ants swarming over their home. These were no ants, though.

  “Cachten daedos d’estaigh! Aucioch aet mam!” Aeden shouted.

  Tere Chizzit simply nodded in agreement.

  The animaru had found them, and they had taken no chances. They had sent an army.

  42

  “Get down the other side of the hill,” Tere Chizzit said. “They shouldn’t have caught sight of us yet, but if we are crested like this, they no doubt will. I doubt they need to see us to give chase, though. The best we can hope is that they follow the road, assuming we will do the same. It can buy us a little time. Maybe enough…”

  Aeden was still cursing, but he moved along with the rest of them.

  “Can we outrun them?” Aeden asked.

  “I don’t know,” the tracker said. “I’m not sure how fast they’re moving. Faster than us, it seems. I’ll know more when we see them again.” He pointed to another hill a few miles away. It was bald of trees, rounded with grass growing all over it. “We’ll check again when we get to that hill. Move now.”

  Gone was the comfortable feeling of travel. Small conversations about the weather and temperature were forgotten. They had been found, and the only option left was to run for their lives. Fahtin hitched her pack higher on her shoulders and quickened her pace. It was too soon to run; that would only tire them out. They had to be intelligent about it, walking fast, trotting occasionally, moving without break.

  It seemed to take them hours to reach the hill that Tere had pointed out. By the time they did, Fahtin’s legs were burning from the sustained effort and final push up the incline. They rushed over the top of the hill and down the other side before stopping to crawl back to the crest and look at their pursuers.

  They were much closer.
<
br />   Aeden’s soft cursing was drowned out by Tere Chizzit’s voice.

  “Surus damn them all to Abyssum.”

  Fahtin was shocked. She had never heard the older man curse before. Tere Chizzit’s head swiveled from looking at the black mass coming after them to the land ahead of them. He seemed to be doing calculations in his head.

  “I don’t think we can make the bridge before they catch us,” he said. “We may be able to lose them in the trees near the river, but they’ll know we’re looking for a bridge. Even if we make it across, they’ll chase us on the other side. There is no way we’ll make Sitor-Kanda before they catch us.”

  “Is there anything else we can do?” Fahtin asked.

  “Maybe they will continue on the road,” Urun Chinowa offered.

  “It’s possible, I sup—” Tere Chizzit stopped in mid-sentence. “Damn.” The swarm of creatures following them veered sharply from the path they had been on, leaving the road and taking the route the party had taken. “No, they won’t be staying on the road. They are able to track us somehow.”

  “It’s me,” Aeden said. “They’re after me. I’ll go another way, lead them off. Then the rest of you can go to the Academy and get help.”

  “That’s heroic of you, boy,” Tere said, “but ridiculous. First of all, no one is going to sacrifice themselves while I’m around. Second, if you die, there’s really not any reason for us to go to the Academy, is there? If you are this Malatirsay, you are the only one of us who can’t die. No, your offer is honorable, but impractical.

  “Let me think.” The blind man closed his eyes and stood motionless for a moment. When he opened them again, they seemed to have a defiant look in them, the skin around them crinkled and his brows drawn down tight. “Come on. The trees closer to the river should slow them down a bit. Maybe if we are erratic in our path and move more quickly through the vegetation, it will be enough. We’ll have other options once we get to the other side of the river. Urun, will you be able to make travel easier for us, moving plants out of the way and such?”