A Girl From Nowhere

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A Girl From Nowhere Page 19

by James Maxwell


  The crimson sun crept over the horizon. Lux was rising, making it a false dawn, but it would be hours before Dex fully lit the plain. The bax kept moving, faster now. Time passed, and Taimin struggled to equal their speed. He took more risks, and spent less time hidden. When he tried to run from a stone formation to a tall hermit cactus, his foot gave out. He slipped and then fell to his knees. Stones clattered together, but fortunately the bax kept moving. They hadn’t heard him.

  He pushed on. Meanwhile Lux shone brighter and washed the landscape a crimson shade. The group he was following came to a halt. He peered at them from behind a boulder on a hill. His position was high and, as far away as they were, in the red light he could make out the figures’ stooped frames as they conferred. The distant red sun peeled above the horizon to rise higher in the sky.

  Taimin’s heart beat out of time.

  The bax had a human with them, a slender woman with long dark hair and a length of cord traveling from her neck to a bax’s gnarled fist.

  He knew without doubt that he was looking at Selena. For a moment he was too stunned to think. She was so close that he felt he could reach out and touch her, but at the same time it would have taken a loud shout to catch the attention of her group, something he definitely didn’t want to do.

  The bax finished their discussion and set off again. With the golden sun soon to rise they appeared to be searching for a place to hide. The individual members of the group were already small in Taimin’s vision. Now they were moving so swiftly that he knew he would lose them.

  He turned and gave a low whistle.

  Griff came bounding forward. Taimin threw himself onto the wherry’s back. Knowing he was taking a great risk, but that above all he couldn’t lose sight of Selena, he decided to head for a low crest, halfway between himself and the bax. It wouldn’t provide much cover, but he would risk being seen in order to get close.

  He dug in his heels. Griff raced along, his claws digging into the ground. The crest grew closer and closer. As he reached the top, Taimin brought Griff to a halt. He slid off the wherry’s back to lie on his stomach on the waist-high boulder’s slope. Griff sank to his haunches. Taimin scanned the area and strained his ears, anxious to know if he had been spotted.

  At that moment Dex burst into the sky. The golden sun cast a brilliant glare over the plain. Taimin’s heart sank. The bax with Selena must have taken cover. He couldn’t see them anywhere.

  He cursed and wondered what he should do. He couldn’t just ride around in circles. Still on his stomach, he decided he would need to stay where he was and never take his eyes off the plain. It wasn’t a good place to hide from the city guard, but he didn’t have a choice.

  A steady breeze came up, blowing hot air against his face as it sent dead bushes rolling along in its wake. Taimin gnawed at his lip, knowing he was in a bad position. He couldn’t leave, but he knew he shouldn’t stay.

  Then he heard Griff growl, emitting a long, low rumble followed by a whine.

  A shiver of fear crept up and down Taimin’s spine. He recognized the sound. He frantically searched the landscape to find somewhere else to hide.

  He was too late.

  Griff looked up and give another fearful whine. A cold hand of dread squeezed Taimin’s chest when he followed the wherry’s eyes.

  Dark winged shapes wheeled in the sky.

  The wyverns were already circling toward the ridge. With Dex lighting up the plain, and the men of the city guard looking down from above, Taimin knew he had already been seen. There were more of the wyverns this time, at least twice as many. The winged creatures began to give piercing cries. Each shriek made Griff cringe.

  Taimin climbed to his feet. He drew the sword he had taken from Galen’s brother and moved away from the crest to stand in a cleared patch of ground.

  He turned to Griff. “Go,” he said. “They’ll kill you.”

  Griff growled and then whimpered. His expression was distressed. His long lashes framed his gentle eyes as he moved closer to Taimin and nudged him with his head.

  As Dex rose ever higher, chasing the smaller sun, the reddened plain shifted to gold. Taimin tilted his head back and held the sword high in the sky. He watched the sweeping wings of the wyverns as the creatures lost height. They were close enough for him to see Galen, the rider at the head of the group. His short white hair framed an angular face marred by hatred.

  The wyverns circled one last time before commencing a swift descent.

  “Go!” Taimin shouted at Griff. “Don’t you realize they’ll kill you?”

  Griff took some steps away, but then whined and looked back.

  Taimin crouched down and picked up a stone. Hating himself, he threw it at the wherry, and the stone bounced off Griff’s sand-colored hide. He followed it with another. “Go! Get out of here!”

  Griff shied. Taimin threw yet another stone. He kept his face cold, even as the wherry watched him in despair.

  At last Griff scampered off, sprinting at speed and vanishing into the distance as the wyverns made their final approach. Taimin sighed and turned away. It didn’t matter if Griff never forgave him; at least the wherry would survive. Taimin clenched his jaw as he waited in the open, sword in hand. His own life was almost certainly about to be cut short.

  One rider landed, then another, until they were all on the ground in a circle with Taimin in the center. Taimin turned his gaze from one soldier to the next. He stood with legs apart. He waited, but the soldiers didn’t dismount.

  Taimin focused on Galen. The tall, white-haired commander’s features were stiff, but his fierce eyes and the lines in his forehead revealed his loathing. Suddenly, however, he smiled; he was enjoying his moment. He had Taimin exactly where he wanted him.

  “Chase the beast?” one of the soldiers asked.

  “Let it go,” Galen said. “We have what we want.”

  Taimin pointed his sword at his enemy. He knew he could never beat them all. He was going to die, but he was determined to take this one man with him.

  Galen looked at Taimin. He still sat astride his mount. “You killed my brother.” His lip curled. “You’re going to die.” He gave another cold smile. “But not today.”

  The commander gave his men an order. Four of the wyverns lifted into the sky, their wings pounding at the air with strong movements. Taimin followed them with his eyes, wondering what was about to happen. Their actions were coordinated; whatever they were doing, they had done it before.

  The four wyverns continued to climb until they were high above Taimin’s position. Then a rider flung out his arm. A net opened up, forming a neat circle. The net fell swiftly, weighted at the ends and expertly thrown. Taimin knew he would never outrun it. Instead he dived to the side and rolled, narrowly avoiding the tangle of webbed cord. A second net opened up above him and he threw his body again, wincing when his bad foot sent pain shooting up his leg.

  A third net fell, and this time when Taimin leaped to the side his leg gave out completely. He involuntarily cried out and then the net was over him. Small hooks in the strands grabbed hold of his skin and clothing. He tried to pull it off but only made matters worse. Every tug caused another hook to grip onto his body. Spikes of pain accompanied each movement. The net drew blood in a dozen places.

  He stopped when he sensed movement.

  Galen towered over him. Taimin looked up to meet his eyes, while the commander stared down at him. Galen rubbed his sharp chin. He appraised Taimin for a long time before speaking.

  “So, young warrior, I killed your parents,” he said. “I remember you. You went over a cliff. What are you, a cripple? Is that how it happened?”

  “Face me like a man,” Taimin said hoarsely. Despite the hooks in his skin, he strained at the net, desperate to free himself. He had taken Galen’s measure during the encounter with the refugees. The commander of the city guard was skilled, but Taimin’s aunt had trained him well. It would be a close match.

  “I found my place in Zorn,” G
alen said, ignoring his challenge, “and now I am the Protector’s right hand, commander of the city guard. I worked my way up the ranks, and I now lead the most lethal fighting force in the world. What can you say for yourself? Have you found a purpose, other than to search for me?”

  Taimin heard a grunt and then a heavy boot struck his head; only the tangle of netting saved him from a more vicious blow. Even so, the strike made his entire world give a sickening lurch. A second kick landed in the pit of his stomach, robbing him of breath as he doubled up.

  “You think I will give you a quick death, after you killed my brother?”

  Taimin choked, struggling to get air into his lungs. Another kick smashed into his abdomen.

  “Think again.”

  Taimin was trussed up like an animal, expertly tied until he could barely move a finger. Galen’s men then wrapped another net tightly around him and tied it to a strap around a wyvern’s lean body. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time the city guard had returned to Zorn with a prisoner.

  He felt himself lifted into the air and gasped as the hooked net pressed into his body. The wyverns climbed the sky and formed a wide triangular formation. Taimin swung back and forth in the air, his stomach clenching with every change of direction. He shifted his position to look down. For a long time he watched the dry plain far below, and then he saw fields of cactus and razorgrass. A moment later he caught sight of a tall, thick wall of white stone. Then he was flying over streets and rooftops. High as he was, he had an all-encompassing view as he sped past row after row of houses. Humans walked the streets below, dressed in a variety of styles of clothing. Few looked up. The other races were conspicuously absent.

  The wyverns’ path drew close to the central tower and Taimin saw oval-shaped windows at intervals. At the very top he caught a glimpse of a room open on all sides, with tall columns supporting the peaked roof.

  Then Taimin began to lose height. He was heading toward a long, rectangular space with a stone floor and enclosing walls—evidently the soldiers’ base. Circling toward the ground, the soldiers took turns to descend. Taimin’s rider waited, and Taimin watched from above as the soldiers led their wyverns to a series of outer buildings that framed the central floor.

  When it was Taimin’s turn, the wyvern plummeted and then pulled up sharply to bring him down with a heavy thump. Taimin’s chin cracked into his knees, rocking his senses. He was still dazed as the soldier came and cut the cord before leading the wyvern away.

  Wrapped in netting, all he could move was his head as he looked around with bleary eyes. He had to think, to understand, if he was ever going to get out of his situation. Everything was so strange and foreign. But he had to try.

  He knew immediately that humans hadn’t built the city: for a start, everything was too big, too out of proportion to the human form. Even the place he was thinking of as a barracks didn’t appear to have been designed for the purpose. The archways that the soldiers led their wyverns through were tall enough to dwarf the men, but too narrow for the wyverns to enter easily. Perhaps this place was once a storage area, with the individual compartments designed to hold supplies. But who would need such large doorways?

  “Free his legs.” Taimin heard Galen’s voice. “Haul him up.”

  Knots were untied, cords were cut, and Taimin soon stood, held up by two soldiers on either side of him. With tiny cuts all over his body, he weaved on his feet. If he hadn’t been supported, he would have fallen.

  Galen regarded him for a moment, then brought his face close. “You are going to walk to the place where you will die. March!”

  Taimin concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other as Galen and the pair of soldiers led him through a guarded entrance and out onto the street. All of his strength became consumed by the struggle to stay upright.

  The city’s thoroughfares were paved with white stone. Houses and other buildings with oversized entrances filled every vacant space and provided shade from the two suns. People walked with purpose. Some cast Taimin swift glances but seemed wary of showing too much interest. A burly man pushed a handcart filled with dried cactuses; he gave the soldiers a wide berth despite his heavy load. Some of the passersby wore bright linen clothing, but most were dressed in dirty laborer’s smocks, and these people were skinny, with gaunt faces and limbs like sticks. Their faces were downcast. The only laughter came from the children who followed Taimin for a time, daring each other to get close.

  Taimin’s march was a blur of stone facades and guarded faces. Thoughts darted through his mind as he wondered where he was being taken. At first, as he was led toward the city’s center, he thought he might be going to the tower, but then Galen’s path took him away from the huge wooden door at its base.

  A plaza surrounded the base of the circular tower. Market stalls stood in rows. Galen stopped to exchange a greeting with a plump man in a garish robe. Taimin was able to rest for a moment and stood with chest heaving as he struggled to fight the pain. He looked at the nearby market and a commotion drew his attention. Locals dressed in rags were pushing past each other to get to one of the vendors. They cried out while they held up flasks, and they were all saying the same word. “Water!”

  He tore his eyes away when he realized that Galen was talking about him.

  “. . . the man who killed Kurt, and here he is,” Galen said. “You will soon see him die in the arena.”

  “I will watch with pleasure, commander.”

  Taimin was shoved along once more to follow another wide street. He turned into another avenue, and then followed a series of turns as he was taken deeper into the city.

  Gazing ahead, he found himself looking at a great stadium, a structure so big he could hardly believe it was real. Most of its bulk was obscured by the buildings around it, yet just the part he could see told him of its size. A series of grand archways formed the main entrances, but Taimin was marched toward the back.

  Galen came to a halt at a sturdy grid of stout wooden bars. A burly guard, grubbier than the uniformed soldiers, emerged from the darkness behind the gate and jangled some keys. The gate creaked open.

  “Welcome to the arena,” Galen said.

  Taimin felt a shove in the middle of his back. He fell forward and onto the hard ground. The guard, a big man who would have dwarfed Lars, easily took him in hand, and then a second, lankier guard came to help.

  Taimin struggled weakly as he was led down a series of stone-walled passages, and through another barred gate. He tried to pay attention to where he was going but it all looked the same, and after the beating and the march he was barely able to stumble along, forcing the guards to do all the work.

  Yet another barred gate opened onto a large room with stone walls. The room was filled with rows of bed pallets, and Taimin was aware of many eyes watching him.

  The guards threw him to the floor.

  22

  Hope stirred for the briefest moment, but then Selena’s shoulders slumped when the wyvern riders continued to pass overhead, leaving her behind as they flew over the plain.

  Mugrak made a wheezing sound, the bax equivalent to a sigh of relief. “The city guard has not seen us. Even so, we should wait out the day. This may be the last protection we find for some time. We depart at nightfall.”

  Selena and the dozen bax were in a narrow gully. The base was made of loose stones, and there was nowhere comfortable to sit, but she had done her best to wedge her body against the wall. She wanted to sleep if she could. She knew she needed to keep up her strength if she was going to seek help in the city and escape.

  Mugrak gave her a dark look. “This is a foolish plan,” he muttered. “Mystic, how close must we be to the city to do as the warden asks?”

  “I need to be close to the wall,” she said.

  “His wife is dead.” Mugrak spoke more to himself than anyone else. “Why can he not see it?”

  Selena felt vaguely guilty for using Blixen’s grief at the loss of his wife. Looking at Borg, who was
snoring loudly despite his uncomfortable position a short distance away, she steeled her resolve. She remembered the little girl Borg had held up by her hair.

  Selena would contact the mystic in the tower. The city guard would come to help her. Soon she would be free.

  “This is as close as we can get you,” Mugrak said. “The danger is great.”

  It was just before midday. They were in the midst of the fields surrounding the city, hidden within a grove of tall lifegiver cactuses. The bax grunted to each other nervously until Mugrak silenced them with a glare and a slashing motion of his hand.

  “Hurry,” Mugrak grunted. “Do what it is you need to do.”

  Selena nodded and took a deep breath. She scanned the area. The suns were both up; she had told Mugrak she needed to see clearly in order to search for Blixen’s wife in the city. Clamping down on her fear, she moved away from the dozen bax and settled herself on the dirt.

  She visualized her symbol and felt her consciousness expand to surround it. She fought to calm her emotions, containing her trepidation as she forced her breath to slow until it was steady and even. Soon she was touching the radiant orb in her mind. She let it pull her up and out of her body.

  As her awareness became unfastened, she looked down at herself, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She then turned to the hiding bax, who were all watching the body she had left behind with a combination of fear and impatience. Focusing her attention on the city, she climbed the sky until she was gazing down at the rooftops, and then she flew forward and sped across the fields, heading for the white wall.

 

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