A Girl From Nowhere

by James Maxwell

  “Wait!” Lars cried. “I claim trade rights. As a watch leader, you must honor my right to offer trade.”

  “Interesting,” the skalen with the steel neckpiece hissed as he turned his attention to Lars. “You know our customs, human.”

  Lux’s blood-red light grew stronger, and Taimin saw the skalen’s tilted eyes cloud over, as if a protective film were falling into place. Taimin risked a glance at Selena. Her face was pale. He had made the honorable choice in not leaving Lars, but it might have been a fateful one.

  “I have traded many times with Treesk of Reswith Watch,” Lars said, clearly finding the strange names hard to form.

  “I know Treesk,” the skalen said. “Tell me, human, what do you have to trade? I hold your lives, and my mother, who leads here, commands a hundred warriors. I doubt there is much you can offer that I cannot take for myself.”

  Taimin knew the look of desperation on Lars’s face, but it gradually shifted to a familiar cunning. “You must have close to an entire clan here,” Lars said. “We both know that a large group brings dangers of its own. We’re not far from the firewall. How many will die if you get caught in a firestorm? You don’t leave your mines without purpose. Perhaps you need the help of a mystic where you’re going.”

  The skalen—Lars had called him a watch leader—gave Lars a careful inspection. “You are a mystic?”

  “No,” Selena said. She came forward. “I am.”

  The watch leader opened his mouth, displaying rows of pointed teeth. “We already have a mystic. My cousin, Aris.” He called over his shoulder. “Aris! Someone fetch him.”

  A younger skalen pushed through to the top of the opposite wall of the gully. “I am here, Watch Leader Rees.”

  “Aris, tell me, is this human female a mystic?”

  Aris looked at Selena with narrowed eyes. Selena stood her ground and returned his reptilian stare. All of a sudden Aris drew back, his expression fearful. “She is untrained, but she has power, Watch Leader Rees.”

  “More power than you?”

  Aris gave a soft snort. “I can barely cast a few miles.”

  “So that is a yes.” Rees dragged out the last syllable in a soft hiss. “You have my interest, human,” he addressed Lars. “You have bought her life. Unfortunately, you have not—”

  “Do you think I’ll cast for you if you kill them?” Selena interrupted. “You can take me, but let them go.”

  “Selena—” Taimin began.

  She cut him off with a frown. Rees’s gaze narrowed. Taimin clenched his jaw as the watch leader pondered; he knew there was nothing he could do. Lars had made his gambit. Everything came down to Selena now.

  “First, a test,” Rees finally said. “What lies in this direction?” The skalen pointed.

  Selena’s eyes became unfocused. She had a distant look about her for a time, before clarity returned to her gaze. “A series of mountains and then a vast canyon.”

  “Past the canyon?”

  “A plain.”

  “You know what I am asking. What is after the plain?”

  Taimin tensed as Selena took a long time to reply. “The white city.”

  “Excellent. You have your bargain,” Rees said to Lars. He turned to Selena. “You will cast for us, and we will keep your companions safe from harm. Be careful, though, for we will ask many things from you, and we expect your full commitment to our cause.”

  “No,” Selena said. Her voice was firm. “Let them go.”

  “And how would I trust you to cast for us?” Rees tilted his head. “Believe me, mystic, there is no other bargain to be made.”

  “What is your cause?” Lars asked. “Where are you going?”

  “We travel to the Rift Valley, the canyon the mystic spoke of, to a meeting with the bax and their warden. A gathering such as this has never taken place before.”

  “To what end?” Lars persisted.

  “We plan to conquer the white city,” Rees said. He rested his gaze on Selena. “And with your help, we will do it. You will help us avoid the Protector’s patrols, and find the weak places in the walls. A strong mystic is worth hundreds of warriors.”

  Taimin saw Lars’s expression of horror, mirroring the way he felt. It was Lars who spoke, so low that Taimin could only just hear him.

  “What have we done?”

  12

  Taimin and Lars marched.

  Their wrists were bound behind their backs. On all sides a large group of strange, sinuous creatures surrounded them. There was no chance of escape.

  Sweat trickled down Taimin’s face as he concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. It was his third day with the skalen, and Dex was a sliver of bright yellow just above the horizon. He hoped they would soon rest; the rising heat and fatigue were taking their toll. The fast pace the skalen set made him wonder at the column’s urgency.

  Taimin often didn’t glimpse Selena for hours. The skalen avoided bright Dex and preferred to march either at night or when only the red sun was above the horizon; often it was so dark Taimin could barely see. When he tripped on unseen obstacles, guards yanked him up again without a word. The reptilian eyes of the skalen heightened their menace. The blinding glare of strong sunlight became something he longed for; it meant he could rest.

  While he was glad the skalen hadn’t found Griff, he was anxious that the wherry would be close by, shadowing the column. Every time a scout came up to report to Watch Leader Rees, Taimin dreaded news that Griff had been found and killed. If Griff wasn’t wise enough to stay clear, the wherry’s soft skin might form a skalen’s new boots.

  As Taimin marched, he looked from side to side. The guards assigned to watch him and Lars didn’t appear to care if the two men spoke, provided they kept their voices low.

  “You know about skalen,” Taimin murmured to Lars. “Why would they want to attack the white city?”

  “No idea,” Lars grunted. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. It’s rare for so many skalen to leave their home. Almost as rare as skalen meeting with bax.”

  “We have to warn the Protector,” Taimin said, speaking quietly as he glanced at his companion.

  “Aye,” Lars said. “But first we have to get away.”

  Taimin inspected the warriors surrounding them. He and Lars were close to the front of the column, and he peered over his shoulder to take in as many skalen as he could. “If this is a clan, where are their young?”

  “Left behind? With another clan? How would I know?”

  “Any thoughts on escap—”

  Taimin was interrupted when a sibilant voice up ahead called for the column to halt. He peered past the skalen in front of him to scan the dry terrain, wondering why they had stopped—if it was to rest, they would have said so. The golden sun was only beginning to crest the horizon. It wasn’t yet bright enough for a rest period.

  He squinted and finally saw a tall, muscular figure approaching the column, silhouetted by the rising sun. The figure was too upright for a bax, and too tall and broad to be a skalen, or even a human. Taimin blinked, and realized that there was a much slighter, stick-like figure trailing behind. A cord trailed from the hand of the bigger figure, dragging the creature along by its neck.

  The two shapes moved past the sun and now he could see them clearly. He heard Lars mutter under his breath.

  “Just what we need. A trull.”

  “A trull with a captive mantorean?” Taimin frowned.

  “It’s not the first time I’ve seen it. The mantorean is a female, of course. He’ll have her eggs.”

  Although he was alone, the trull approached the column without fear. He was more than six feet tall, but it was his frame that caught Taimin’s attention. His body looked like it was entirely made of muscle, without an ounce of wasted flesh on him. His broad face was dominated by a snubbed nose, flattened against his face, and his upper jaw was larger than his lower, leaving long, yellowed incisors to curve halfway down his chin. His head was covered in lank hair that hu
ng to his broad shoulders, and his dark eyes, while large, looked surprisingly human. He wore an animal-skin vest and frayed leather trousers.

  The mantorean that the trull dragged behind him was clearly weak. The trull remorselessly yanked her along and occasionally turned his head to snarl something back at her. She was slighter than the mantorean that Taimin and Selena had rescued, but had the same triangular head, beady black eyes, and pair of antennae.

  As Taimin continued to examine the approaching trull he remembered the things his father and Abi had told him. Trulls were aggressive. They didn’t get along well with the other races, nor each other, and were rarely seen in groups. Most often they traveled the wasteland, stealing and raiding.

  Taimin watched an old skalen leave the column to meet the trull and his captive. Her neckpiece was steel and similar to Rees’s, but with an additional circle of tiny green shards around the perimeter. Where Rees had a handful of dark feathers sprouting from his scalp, the older skalen’s feathers were white, and age had weathered her reptilian skin. Nonetheless, her clothing was well-made and she held her back straight.

  “You’ve heard them mention Rees’s mother, Group Leader Vail?” Lars glanced at Taimin. “My guess is that’s her. She’s the one in charge of this column.”

  “Group Leader,” the trull said in a harsh, barking voice. “I claim trade rights.”

  “Why would I trade with you?” Group Leader Vail came to a halt and scowled. The trull looked strong enough to crush her neck with one hand, but she wasn’t intimidated.

  “I am in need,” the trull growled. He held up a satchel. “I risked much to capture this mantorean. I have her eggs with me, but I have no food.” He jerked his chin at the mantorean, who stood with her shoulders slumped just behind him. “She is a mystic.”

  Lars gave Taimin a worried look.

  “What does it mean?” Taimin asked.

  “Vail will trade for her,” Lars said. “The mantorean will do anything to protect her eggs. She’ll cast in any way the group leader wants her to.”

  Out in front of the column, Group Leader Vail shook her head. “I already have mystics.”

  The trull pointed at the mantorean. “She has cast a firestorm ahead. You skalen are heading straight for it.” He lifted his chin. “Tell me, have your own mystics seen the danger?”

  “A firestorm?” Vail rubbed her chin. “Where?”

  The trull snarled. “She will never tell you, not unless I give you her eggs.”

  Group Leader Vail addressed the insect-like creature. “Is this true?” she asked.

  The mantorean gave a weary nod. Taimin saw that she had a gash as long as his finger on the side of her face. “There is a firestorm. I do not have permission to tell you anything more.”

  Vail frowned. “If you have her eggs, why drag her by a cord?” she asked the trull.

  “She is weak,” the trull grunted, “but I am sure you can remedy that.”

  “How much food do you want?”

  “I want skins too,” the trull said.

  As the bargaining began, Taimin turned to Lars. “What does this mean for us?”

  Lars’s lips thinned. “It can’t be anything good. Selena is not as useful as she once was.”

  The column had halted without explanation. Selena tried to see through the lizard-like figures ahead of her but there were too many of them to see what was happening up front. She briefly caught sight of Taimin and Lars farther ahead, still bound, but with their lips moving as they murmured to each other. There was no way to make out what they were saying.

  In her glimpses of Taimin on the march she had seen that he was struggling to keep up. She was worried about him. As she caught another look at his face, she noticed that his eyes were shadowed. He was leaning, placing his weight more on one side than the other.

  She saw Rees coming her way, weaving through the column. He reached out with his reptilian hand and his inscrutable eyes met hers. She heard his soft voice.

  “Mystic,” he called, beckoning. “My mother has asked for you. Come.”

  Selena shook her head. “I want to talk to my friends first.”

  When she didn’t move, he frowned and reached out to grab her hand, yanking her until she was at his side. She resisted, but he was strong, and the other skalen parted as Rees dragged her along. Soon she was through the crowd and out in the open at the front, a stone’s throw from the rest of the group.

  Rees’s mother waited. Proud and stern, with tilted eyes that were sharp despite her age, Group Leader Vail impatiently watched Selena approach.

  “Mother, here she is,” Rees said.

  “Finally,” Vail said. Her narrowed gaze told Selena that she was not to be crossed. “Remind me of your name, mystic.”

  “Selena.” As she spoke, Selena saw Taimin and Lars standing behind some of the skalen warriors. They both looked worried.

  “In case you do not know, I am Group Leader Vail. I command here.”

  Selena didn’t reply. Her nostrils flared as her intuition told her that something bad was about to happen.

  “Do you see that trull?” Vail pointed and Selena saw a muscular figure in the distance, striding away from the group. On his back the trull carried a bulging pack that looked heavy but barely slowed him down as he left the skalen behind.

  “Yes.”

  “He had a captive mantorean that he traded to our group. She is a mystic, and I have her eggs. Do you know what that means? She will do whatever I ask of her—anything she can to save her eggs.”

  Selena’s stomach churned. The skalen had another mystic, almost certainly a mystic with more skill than her. “I understand.”

  “I am not certain you do,” Vail said, meeting her eyes. “This one may not have your power . . . but here, let me show you.”

  Group Leader Vail waved her arm, and Selena saw an insect-like mantorean herded toward her. The mantorean’s shoulders were slumped but she was obviously agitated from the way her antennae twitched. She had a seeping wound on the side of her triangular face but wasn’t bound, lending credence to Vail’s explanation about her eggs.

  “Rei-kika,” Vail said to the mantorean. “You say we are marching directly into the path of a firestorm.”

  “Yes, Group Leader,” the mantorean, Rei-kika, said in her clipped, clicking voice.

  “Which way must we travel, to avoid the danger?”

  Rei-kika hesitated. “It is too far for me to cast the best route. When we get closer I will be able to tell you.”

  Vail rested her ancient eyes on Selena. “Do you see my problem? I have a tame mystic who will do everything I ask of her. She has spotted a hazard ahead, something that you,” Vail’s ominous tone made Selena’s skin crawl, “were supposed to be doing.”

  Selena swallowed. She had been wary of farcasting. If she had a seizure, the skalen might decide that she, Taimin, and Lars were more trouble than they were worth.

  “My problem,” Vail continued, “is that this mantorean does not have the strength of my untrained, unhelpful human mystic. What is to be done?”

  Group Leader Vail glanced at Rei-kika, and then back at Selena. Coming to a conclusion, the old skalen turned again to the mantorean.

  “Rei-kika,” she said. “I want you to channel through this human female. Use her strength. Find me the firestorm, and tell me truly which way to go, or I will crack your eggs on the ground.”

  The mantorean made a sound of distress. “I must not. It is forbidden.”

  “I mean what I say,” Vail said flatly. “Do I have to ask again?”

  “No. No, please.”

  Selena’s fear grew as she wondered what was about to happen. She could try to run, or fight, but Taimin and Lars would suffer. The rest of the column watched nearby. She was out in the open as the rising sun washed the rugged plain in bright light. A hot wind blew against her skin. Her mouth was dry.

  Then Rei-kika moved, her decision made. The mantorean faced Selena and fixed her with an unreadable ex
pression like stone. Multifaceted black eyes stared at her, boring into her skull.

  Then, with a terrible, penetrating sensation, Selena’s mind was invaded.

  It began with a dull ache between her temples. Selena put her hands to her head. She wanted to do anything she could to run away and escape the black eyes that stared into her, but the pain grew until it was so strong she could do little more than grimace. Her consciousness screamed at her: something was trying to worm its way inside.

  The foreign awareness touched her mind again and again. At first it was a subtle caress, a peeling back of layers, a touch that attempted to slip through her mind’s natural barriers to get inside. Selena instinctively tried to push it away and the touch recoiled for a moment but returned even stronger. The pain became agonizing. It was like a gigantic hand was wrapped around her head, squeezing with terrible force.

  The touch shifted. Instead of a caress, regular blows fell like a hammer striking a chisel, peeling back her defenses to expose what lay within. The barrier between Selena’s mind and the foreign awareness shattered like thin clay. She cried out and fell to her knees while the pressure continued.

  The multifaceted black eyes continued to bore into her. The sensation of squeezing was so strong that she had no choice but to seek refuge. She gasped, her mouth open in a soundless scream. Still the pressure increased. She had to escape the pain.

  There was only one place she could go. She retreated deeper inside her mind.

  There was something there, a radiance that she had never been aware of before. She sought out the radiance, taking herself away from the pain. It was bright and beautiful. She surrounded herself with it.

  But the walls were closing in, walls of pain that were brought closer and closer by the foreign presence. The radiance knew Selena wanted to be free. It showed her that she could escape the pain completely. It could free her of it. All she had to do was allow it to pull her away.

  She accepted the offer; she had no other choice. She took hold of the radiance and experienced a sensation like being unfastened and gradually rising up, akin to waking from a deep sleep.