A Girl From Nowhere

by James Maxwell

  As soon as she saw the group of bax, Selena’s eyes widened. She turned back to Taimin. Now that she was inspecting him, she saw scratches on his arms and hands. A few of the grazes looked bad. He had torn his vest low on his abdomen, revealing an angry red patch where he had smashed his body against the rock.

  He had risked his life to warn her.

  She glanced at Lars. He would have left. If Lars had to choose between putting himself in danger, and leaving her behind, he would go without a moment’s thought. Even if it meant finding the white city for himself.

  She returned her attention to Taimin. He looked toward her and held her stare. There was depth in his eyes. They were brown and warm. The golden sun burnished his dark hair and made his skin glow.

  The moment was interrupted when she saw the mantorean Lars had traded with walk over to Taimin. She was close enough to hear the exchange.

  “I saw your supply is low. These are for you, young warrior,” the mantorean said.

  Taimin’s face showed surprise as the insect-like creature held out a bundle of arrows. “Why?” he asked. “I don’t have anything to trade.”

  “They are my gift to you. Not all humans are kind to my race. Please take them and remember. Perhaps you will treat the next group of mantoreans well.”

  Taimin thanked the mantorean as he took the arrows. His face was troubled, and Selena remembered their conversation when they were approaching the hill for the first time.

  Lars’s growling voice made them both turn. “Come on, both of you. It’s time to go.”

  7

  “Take off your vest,” Selena said.

  Taimin was leaning with his back against a rock wall, resting in the shade. Not far away, Griff was sprawled out, fast asleep. A rumbling sound came from Lars, who lay snoring on his blanket under the shelter of an overhang. The golden sun Dex blazed from high in the sky. The day was still, without the slightest wind to dispel the heat. Until Dex began to fall, travel was unthinkable.

  Taimin stared wide-eyed up at Selena. “What?”

  She crouched at his side. Her voice was firm. “I need you to take off your vest.” Taimin noticed that she had a clean cloth and a water flask in her hands. When she saw his reluctance, she raised an eyebrow. “You saw me naked, but you’re too shy to take off your vest?”

  “I didn’t choose to see you naked,” Taimin said. As soon as he said it, he wished he could take the words back.

  “Ah, so you did see me.”

  “No. Yes.”

  Cursing his tongue, he stopped talking, and instead gave a sigh and pulled his vest over his head. He glanced down at himself. His chest was lean; there was no soft layer below the skin at all. His abdomen rippled with ridges, and from his navel a sparse trail of dark hair vanished below the waistline of his trousers. The graze on one side of his chest looked bad, but he’d had worse. Black specks on the wound indicated bits of rock or dirt.

  “Lean back,” Selena said. She inspected the wound for a time, so close to him that a few strands of her black hair tickled his chest.

  “Do you know about wounds?” Taimin asked.

  She looked up at him. “I took care of children,” she said; clearly she thought that explained enough.

  Splashing water onto her cloth, she began to scrape against the graze. Taimin drew in a sharp breath and his muscles tensed in the area where she was working. She had to apply pressure to get out some of the deeper dirt. Yet despite the stinging sensation, Taimin’s mind was on something else altogether. Her body was so close to his. Her touch was gentle as she finished her task.

  “There,” she said. “All done.”

  Taimin pulled on his vest and then cleared his throat. “Selena.” He hoped he wasn’t going to say the wrong thing. “The white city . . . is that your dream?” He glanced at the sleeping older man. “I know why Lars wants to go there. He’s old. Me, I’d do anything to become whole again. Why are you so determined to get there?”

  She hesitated. As she sat beside him, he didn’t want her to leave. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Please. Tell me.”

  She looked away for a moment, and he knew that what she was about to say was important to her. After gathering her thoughts, she turned back to face him. He stared into her eyes and waited for her to speak.

  “Sometimes things have a place,” she said. “They belong in their place; they fall into the same arrangement, time after time.” She paused. “It’s like when your pack settles on your shoulder, or when you put a knife back in its sheath. At night, a wherry returns to its bed. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Like the groove on my bow. When I draw an arrow, it slots into the right place every time.”

  “Exactly.” She reached out. “Give me your hand.”

  He gave her his hand and she clasped their two palms together. Her skin was smooth. Her hand was smaller than his, but there was no gap between them—they fit together perfectly.

  “Like this,” she said. “Sometimes, things fit together. Everything needs a place, a purpose. Everyone needs to fit into their place. A home. A life. People who care about you.”

  The look she gave him was heavy with intent. He still held her hand. He never wanted her to let go.

  She gave a last, firm statement. “That’s what I want.” He felt he had lost something as she pulled her hand away.

  “There’s more to it,” he said. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did. “It’s something to do with your talent.” Her smile faded as soon as he mentioned it. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “I told you. It’s not a talent, it’s a curse.”

  “And you want it gone.”

  Her face was troubled. “Everyone says that the Protector of the white city is wise. He might be able to help me.”

  Taimin tried to understand. He still thought that what she could do was incredible, and hated to see her despise a part of herself. “Everyone has something that makes them unique,” he said slowly. He gave a wry smile. “Even me, with my foot.”

  “You’re not a cripple,” she said firmly. “You’re a man with a limp, and that’s all.”

  Making a decision, he continued to stare into her eyes. “You want to remove your curse. What if there’s another way? It’s a part of you, isn’t it? You were born with it. You said that you’re not the only mystic in the wasteland. What if you could instead find someone to teach you about your abilities?”

  His heart sank when she climbed to her feet and stared down at him. “Teach me to do the terrible things I’ve been blamed for?” Her tone was scathing. “People do stupid things. They lie to each other. They steal. They also don’t like to take responsibility for what they’ve done. So who gets blamed? Who could have bewitched them?” She lifted her chin. “Me.”

  All of a sudden her face contorted with pain.

  “Selena!”

  Taimin rushed to catch her as she fell. As he lowered her to the ground, she put her hands to her temples. Then she rolled onto her back and began to writhe.

  “Lars!” Taimin cried. “I need help!”

  Crouched over her, he saw Selena grit her teeth and press her hands so tightly against her head that her knuckles turned white. He felt helpless.

  He could only hope that there was someone in the city who could help her.

  Selena’s recovery was quick, but her seizure meant she was unable to farcast for days. As the two suns rose and fell over a barren landscape, Taimin wasn’t the only one who wondered if they were still heading in the right direction. He walked sometimes with Lars, but more often side by side with Selena. He sometimes glanced at her and thought about her curse, and although he didn’t say anything, he felt remorse for ever doubting that what she could do was real.

  As the journey progressed, the fear of a deadly encounter drove them on. Lars always reminded them that with bax destroying homesteads and killing humans on sight, nowhere but the white city would be safe.

  Now Taimin glanced anxi
ously up ahead. After a long day’s travel, the light was fading rapidly. They were following a snaking gully, an ancient riverbed where the occasional bush or skeletal tree framed what were once the river’s banks. The deepening shadows could hide anything.

  A low howl might have been the wind, but the air was completely still. Taimin’s heart gave a jolt. “Did you hear that?” He cast a swift glance at Lars.

  Lars nodded grimly. “Firehounds.”

  Taimin tried not to look at Selena. He knew she would feel guilty for the erratic nature of her talent.

  “We’d be boxed in if they found us here,” Taimin said. He became silent for a time, scanning the terrain as he walked with Griff at his side. “There. See it? That big tree with the bush at the bottom. It’ll give us something to put at our backs.”

  “Good idea,” Lars grunted.

  But as they neared, Selena gave a low exclamation. She stopped in her tracks. “Wait. Look . . . There’s someone already there.”

  The glow of firelight flickered against the gnarled tree that loomed over the gully. Taimin glanced anxiously at Lars. “Bax?”

  “Maybe,” Lars said uncertainly. He made a decision. “I’m going to get a closer look.”

  “I’ll go—” Taimin began.

  “Lad,” Lars interrupted. “I might be old but I’m quicker on my feet. Both of you, wait here.”

  Lars left Taimin and Selena to climb the bank of the dried riverbed. Keeping his body low, the skinner moved closer to the tree, before sinking to one knee and watching for a moment. Once Lars had taken a look at whoever was tending the fire, he scurried back to his two companions.

  “A human,” Lars said in a low voice. “Looks like he’s alone.”

  “It’s risky,” Taimin said. “Having a fire.”

  Another sonorous howl filled the night, louder this time. Remembering the story of how Abi had got her scar from a pack of firehounds, Taimin tensed.

  “Or smart,” Lars said.

  Taimin thought for a moment. “He’d probably be happy to see us. The firehounds will avoid a group.”

  Selena’s expression was wary. “What can you tell us about him?”

  Lars shrugged. “He’s middle-aged. Got a stack of tinder.” He scratched at his black beard. “All right. We’ll show ourselves. There’s three of us and one of him. Just keep your wits about you.”

  As they cautiously approached the gnarled tree, they soon saw the stranger. He had been seated as he tended his fire, adding more kindling from a large pile, but when he heard Lars announce himself he leaped to his feet and stared with frightened eyes into the darkness. Dark-haired and slim, with a short beard and an open face, he brandished a cudgel studded with thorns in his left hand. With a start, Taimin saw that the stranger’s right hand was missing, cut off at the wrist.

  “We meet in peace,” Lars said.

  When he saw that Taimin, Lars, and Selena were keeping their hands visible, the man’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but his eyes were still tight and wary.

  The stranger made the same reply that Taimin had first heard as a child. “Trade brings civilization to the waste.”

  Despite the ritual greeting, Taimin was older now, and wiser. The two brothers had said those words, and then killed his parents. The stranger might be a different sort of man, but he still held his thorn-studded cudgel.

  “We saw your fire,” Lars said.

  “I had to make a choice,” the stranger said. “There might be bax around, but there’s no use worrying about bax if a firehound gets me.”

  “Makes sense.” Lars rested his dark gaze on the stranger. “We heard them too. Can we share your camp?”

  The stranger looked from Lars to Taimin, to Selena. “How do I know you won’t murder me in my sleep?”

  “What would we murder you for?” Lars said bluntly. He cast his eyes over the stranger’s camp. “You don’t look like you have much.”

  The stranger hesitated. “You’ve got meat?”

  A familiar calculating expression appeared on Lars’s face. The skinner knew when there was bargaining to be done. “That depends. Have you got information?”

  “I can tell you where there’s a grove of lifegiver cactuses.”

  Taimin decided to speak up. With Griff at his side, he could always bring in meat. Lifegiver cactuses meant water. “We’ll share our meat.”

  The stranger gave a smile and a nod. “Then you’re welcome to share my fire, and I’ll tell you where to go. Name’s Callum.”

  Introductions were swiftly given. As Taimin, Lars, and Selena chose places near the fire, Callum noticed Taimin’s limp.

  “Not easy, is it?” Callum asked. “I’ve got my own war wound.” He displayed the empty sleeve where his hand should have been. “I’m not a rover by choice. Fact is, I won’t last long, not fighting with my left hand.”

  Griff peered up at Taimin and then looked at Callum curiously. Taimin watched in surprise as Callum held out his left hand and the wherry came toward him and nuzzled his head against Callum’s abdomen. Callum patted the wherry, scratching him in all his favorite places. Griff gave a rumble of appreciation.

  “I had a wherry once,” Callum said to Taimin. His eyes became misty. “Loved that creature. I miss him.”

  Everyone was soon seated. As Selena drank from her flask and Lars rummaged in his pack, Taimin felt glad to be off his feet. He squeezed at his right boot, massaging it, and looked across the fire at the one-handed man. “What happened to your wherry?”

  Callum continued to scratch Griff along his belly, while the wherry sprawled out beside him. “He helped me fight off the trulls that took my homestead.” He held up his right arm again. “Died saving my life, and the trulls did this.”

  Taimin felt a strong pang of sympathy. Like Taimin, Callum had lost everything, but at least Taimin still had Griff. Struggling to survive one-handed must be even more difficult than managing with a crippled foot.

  Two loud howls interrupted his thoughts, one after the other. Everyone’s head turned toward the direction the howls had come from.

  Callum climbed to his feet. “That sounded close. I’m going to see if I can catch sight of them.”

  Taimin nodded. “We’ll get some food on.”

  As soon as Callum was gone, Selena spoke in a low murmur. “What do you think of him?”

  “He seems all right,” Lars said noncommittally. The skinner laid strips of lizard flesh over a flat rock placed in the middle of the coals.

  “It must be hard for him, all alone,” Taimin said. “He might want to find the white city with us.” He glanced at Selena. “You said we have to keep an open mind.”

  “I said you can’t judge by race,” Selena said. “Just because he’s human doesn’t mean we should trust him right away.”

  “Don’t mention the city,” Lars said. “Not yet.”

  The brief conversation ended when Callum returned. “Five firehounds in a pack.” The one-handed man added another stick to the embers. Sparks shot into the air and the fire crackled. As he settled himself, he looked over to meet the eyes of each onlooker in turn. “We’ll have to watch in shifts tonight.” His voice firmed. “I’m going to have to insist I take the first watch.”

  Lars’s eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”

  “Once we make it to midnight there’s less chance of an attack. No offence, but I know I can trust myself to stay awake.”

  “Not so fast,” Lars said flatly. He nodded toward Taimin and Selena. “I know these two a lot better than I know you. We’ll take the first three watches. You can have the dawn shift. Don’t forget, we’re the ones with meat.”

  Callum opened his mouth to retort, but shut it again when Lars met him stare for stare. He gave a sigh. “Have it your way. Dawn watch it is.” Lars handed out the hot meat, and for a moment there was silence as everyone ate, hungry after the tantalizing cooking odors. Callum then took a long swig from his water flask. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to catch what rest I can. Y
ou three can sort out the other watches.”

  Soon Callum was lying on his side with his back to the others. As the one-handed man’s breathing evened out, Taimin realized he hadn’t heard a firehound’s howl for some time. Nonetheless, he turned to Selena.

  “Keep your dagger close by,” he said softly. “Get some sleep.” He then addressed Lars. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

  As Selena spread out her blanket, Taimin sat by the fire with his sword on his lap and bow on the ground nearby. Lars added some more tinder to the fire before spreading out his bulk. Soon Taimin was the only one awake. Griff’s snores were the loudest of all.

  8

  Taimin woke with a gasp. He wondered what it was that had startled him, but then his mind began to clear: he had heard a distant whine, followed by a yelp. He was certain it hadn’t been a dream.

  He sat up swiftly and scanned the camp. The embers of the fire still glowed. It was close to dawn, with the golden sun gradually brightening the sky. The gnarled tree cast a long shadow. Taimin’s gaze went to Selena: she was sleeping peacefully nearby. Lars’s chest rose and fell as a low rumble came from his throat.

  Callum was gone. And so was Griff.

  Taimin’s heart beat with sudden fury. He shot to his feet. “Wake up!” he cried.

  Without waiting for Lars and Selena, Taimin grabbed his sword and bow. He began to circle the area, reading the tracks in the way his aunt had taught him. It didn’t take him long to find Griff’s claw marks. He followed the tracks away from the riverbed, toward the open plain.

  He searched frantically until he found a scatter of blood and a few specks of raw flesh. Callum had his own meat after all.

  Taimin cursed. He shouldn’t have let Griff become so trusting. He shouldn’t have been so trusting himself.

  Griff was always hungry in the morning. It didn’t take Taimin long to build up a picture of what had happened. Callum had lured Griff away from Taimin with the promise of an early breakfast. Despite his one hand, the desperate thief was experienced with wherries. He hadn’t bothered with the saddle but he had taken the reins. Throwing himself onto Griff’s back, he had dug in his heels and forced his will upon the wherry.