Time Before the Wolf

by RR Turock

Chapter 6: Eyes to See

  The threat ingrained itself in my mind, urging me onward. I would reveal every foul act of Deion and then destroy it, starting today.

  But first, I needed to escape, without injury preferably. The ironclad, horse-crested man remarked to his fellow equestrian. “Whoever catches her can gets the song, right?”

  Grinning, I spun around on my heels, veiling my face with my scarf as I did. The crowds spread out, letting me past as my pursuers trampled after me. The route I had planned was excellent, so the only concern was that I was faster than the equestrians were.

  As I maneuvered around the corner, I ran across two soldiers. Each held his rusty iron spear so directly, I had to backtrack. The crowds in the streets had flooded to see the commotion. In the corner of my eye, I spotted an elderly woman with a broom.

  Without hesitation, I snatched the broom winking at her, "I'm just borrowing this." and brought it down on the points of the spears, flattening them to the ground. Freeing the opening, I rolled between the two soldiers, who both grasped at me but failed to catch. The hair on the back of my neck rose and I dodge barely in time as an arrow hit the ground where I had stood.

  It was unlike any arrow I had seen before. It had punctured the hardened ground, its steel body still quivering. Glancing up at the roof of the steep building, I spotted the hawk-crested man, knotting another arrow.

  The voice of the horse-crested man chided the archer. “Do you want to kill her, you nimrod? Watch how catching is done.”

  I watched as the horse-crested man, having removed his decorative ironclad, descend from the roof with grace. Looking around for escape, I glanced at the mud-made walls of the buildings around me. The wooden braces for the buildings protruded out as poles. As the horse-crested man made his way down, I started my way up on the opposite side. Grabbing at every crevasse and pole, I moved up quickly.

  The horse-crested man clawed for my foot but was a moment too late. I crawled my way up, remembering the shows we had put on that dealt with wall climbing. Since I was always the lightest in weight, it was always my job to do the climbing. Only now am I grateful for the experience. The horse-crested man was fast, and I barely made it to the roof in time. As he made it up, I gave his head a swift kick. With ease, he dodged my attack by dropping and reattaching to the wall halfway down.

  The hair on the back of my neck started to rise again. I looked across the roof, spotting the hawk-crested man training his arrow on me. I told myself it was harder to hit a moving object and started a sprint to the end of the building, locating just where I was and where I should have been.

  To my left was the massive spherical palace, and to my right the smokestacks of the iron-melting kilns. Having grown up here, I was familiar with both places. The rise of the smoke from the iron-kilns brought back nostalgic feelings.

  Shaking my head, I concentrated. The river was the guide to my home and that was behind me. Unfortunately, it led toward the iron-kiln field, which was in the direction the archer stood, aiming his powerful arrows. Trying to keep from cursing at my luck, I turned around, sprinting for the archer. I watched as he tumbled back in surprise, the knotted arrow falling out of place.

  Just emerging onto the roof, the horse-crested man rose in my way, equally surprised to see me sprinting in his direction. Instantly, he ducked. Without pausing, I leapt off our edge of the roof and landed in a roll on the other side, rolling to my feet and continuing the run. Don’t look back and don’t look down, understand?

  I ran along the edge of the building, glancing down at the river flowing through the city. I was almost there. The archer was quick on his feet and I could feel him just behind me. Going for a surprise attack, I followed the movement my Father had made. Taking the hilt of my dagger, I smashed it across his face.

  Something about his face brought vague familiarity. Gold-eyed, with a smooth face, his tense expression brought back the memory. He was Diomedes, the heir and head of the Wing family and more importantly, my childhood friend. Friendship aside, I had pushed him off the roof and into the river. Had memory served, he couldn’t swim.

  My heart clenched painfully. Without consent from my mind, I dived off the roof and into the river. Closer to the kiln field, the river water was much deeper. Water flooded me, blinding me briefly. In the desert heat and after the chase, it felt refreshing—aside of the sudden inability to breathe.

  Pushing past the need for air, I pressed my eyes open. I spotted Diomedes sinking limply, eyes shut. I caught his hand, trying to heave him to the surface. Water filled my throat forcing me to lose concentration and sink.

  With the last drop of iron strength, the strength it had taken to dig Father’s grave, the strength it took to run, the strength it will take to give the song to the heir, I pulled Diomedes to the surface. We were just children when we were friends. He probably didn’t even remember that.

  He hadn’t known I was the prince’s daughter then. He had been my close compatriot. Perhaps he could even swim now, I reasoned with myself. I had knocked him unconscious. I don't want to be responsible for taking the only heir to the Wing family.

  The horse-crested man would find me in no time because of this. If my plans failed, it was my fault. It was entirely my fault. If I was a son, if I had been born a boy, none of this would have happened. I would have been stronger, faster, I would be the heir. They would have never exiled Father. If they catch me, I will never redeem myself.

  Yanking him on the muddy shore, I collapsed next to him. In my attempts to breathe, I sputtered several cups worth of water. Recovering as quickly as I could, I rolled over to check on Diomedes. I put my fingers over his mouth and nose, checking for breath. As I did, he choked back to life, water spraying from his mouth.

  I had to leave. I was wasting time. The horse-crested man should have caught up with me by now. I glanced around; the evening prevented me from seeing into the shadows. And from the alleyways down here, I couldn’t see the roofs of the houses as he would be able to see me. How could he have not caught up with me yet?

  Still coughing, Diomedes looked at me in confusion. His eyes begged questions he couldn’t yet ask. I scowled, standing up. If he had a better memory, if he just looked carefully before, he wouldn’t have chased me and I wouldn’t have forced him off the roof. In annoyance, I kicked his shoulder stiffly. It hurt to hit his leather covered iron shoulder protectors. Growling to myself, I turned away. I had better things to do than take care of him.

  Not wasting any more time, I took off running. The route led back to my old house, just near the kilns. Taking this back alley, I avoided the main dangers. Carefully, I picked a wall to climb to the roof. Making it to the top, I walked slowly to the edge. Below me was my open window, the window that looked out over the kilns.

  Stiffly, I climbed down into the dark room. Suddenly a lantern lit and ten others followed. Cheers of the crew sent me off balance to where I almost fainted. Hand over chest, I gagged for air. Malec’s laughter resounded loudly as he patted me heavily on the back. “Welcome back, Missy. What took ya so long? We was about to go lookin’ for ya.”

  Still recovering, I grinned widely at him. “I said I was going to come, didn’t I?”

  He returned the grin, his relief ingrained in me.