by Kyra Dune
“It did.” She licked her fingers clean. “But it can be mashed and jarred up; it stays good longer that way.”
“How do you know?”
Micayta dipped her fingers into the jar again, and then handed it back to him. “There was a group of travelers that stayed in Talphan for a while and they had some jarred fruit with them. Peach jam I think they said. Their leader,” she hesitated, clearing her throat, “he gave me some.”
“I don’t remember that.” He scooped some of the peach jam out of the jar but didn’t eat it right away.
“It was a long time ago,” Micayta said. “You were little.”
“Oh.” Pytaki stared at the jam on his fingers. “Before mom died?”
Micayta clenched her teeth. “Yes. Now stop looking at that stuff and eat it.”
Pytaki wrinkled his nose as he brought the jam to his mouth. His eyes widened. “Wow, this is fantastic.” Stuffing more of the jam in his mouth, he grinned. “It’s so good.”
“Stop that.” She snatched the jar from his hand. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
Pytaki continued to grin as he licked his fingers.
“How did you find the trapdoor anyway?”
“Your creepy bird showed me.” He inclined his head toward the bird, who was perched on the back of the chair.
Micayta glanced at the bird, then back to her brother. “How much of this stuff is down there?”
“A lot. Shelves and shelves stacked full. There’s some different colored ones but I guess it must be fruit too because it’s in jars like this.” He tapped the jar. “So I guess that means we can stay here, right? We have everything we need.”
Micayta leaned back against the couch and stared at the jar. He was right, they did have everything they needed right here. At least, for the time being. Staying made the most sense. So why did she feel this urgent need to press on?
“I don’t think so.” She put the jar on the floor. “I found two saddles in the stable. If we can figure out how to carry some of this stuff with us, we should be able to survive until we can find a town.”
“But why? Why go wandering around out there hoping we find town before our food runs out, when we’re safe and warm right here? I don’t get it.”
“Because I said so. That’s why.” She stood. “Bring a couple dozen of those jars up while I get some fuel and blankets. We have to leave soon.”
Pytaki made such a face that she thought he might try to argue the point with her. Instead, he only shook his head and climbed back down the ladder.
An hour later, the horses were packed and ready to go. Micayta glanced over at Pytaki. “Almost done?”
He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on the horse. They hadn’t spoken since their earlier fight and Micayta wasn’t sure if that was because she’d snapped at him or because he simply couldn’t understand her reasons for wanting to leave the safety of the abandoned farmhouse.
“That’s it.” Pytaki put the last jar in his saddlebag and then mounted the horse the way she’d shown him. He wobbled a little and the horse whinnied, taking a few steps sideways.
“Easy, boy.” He pulled himself straight and patted the horse’s neck, calming it. “Which way?”
Micayta stared up at the sky. Which way, indeed. There were no guarantees no matter which direction she chose, but in the back of her mind she’d always meant to go south once Pytaki was old enough to see after himself.
She fingered her dagger. What she hoped to find if she went that way and what she meant to do if she found it were things that had been much on her mind over the years. Some kind of revenge, maybe. She’d certainly contemplated that a time or two.
“Micayta?”
“Hmm?” She looked over to meet her brother’s gaze.
“Which way do you think we should go?”
She glanced down at the bird, who was peering up at her from his perch on the pommel of her saddle. “West,” she said. “We’re going west.”
Chapter Eight
Micayta dismounted and stood staring up at the hills. A week had passed since they left the farmhouse. A week of struggling through deep snow drifts and sleeping huddled under the blankets, eating as little as they could manage. But they’d made it and so had the horses, a fact that surprised Micayta. She hadn’t expected the smaller one to make it this far.
“What do you think is on the other side?” Pytaki asked.
“Town.” Micayta took the lid off a fruit jar. “And people. It won’t be long now. Another day or two, at the most.”
Pytaki looked up at the peak so far above them, then took the jar she offered. “Then what? We don’t have any coin.”
“Don’t worry about that.” She scooped some of the fruit from her jar, it was paler and less sweet than the peaches, and put some on the lid for the bird. “Fuel is as good as coin and it won’t take me long to find a job.”
Pytaki picked at the jam. “But what if they have plenty of fuel? What if there aren’t any jobs? What if the food runs out before we even get there? What if–”
“Will you stop with the questions? I’ll take care of it, like I’ve always taken care of everything.”
Pytaki fell to silently picking at his fruit again, his face going pink.
Micayta held back a sigh. If only he could be a little more mature, a little less timid. Maybe she wouldn’t get so frustrated with him. Frustration led to anger, which led to guilt, which only led to more anger and then to regret, and that was entirely his fault, not hers. He needed to be a little less needy and a lot more helpful.
She slipped the jar back into the saddlebag and absently scratched the bird on the back of his head. He’d been more help than she would have expected on this trip; staying awake all night to watch over them and giving her a chance to rest as easily as she could, what with the nightmares.
Once they were finished eating, they remounted and headed up the hill. There wasn’t a proper trail, but the horses had little trouble picking their way amidst the scant rock. Micayta glanced back at her brother. He was hunched up beneath his cloak, pure misery written on his pale face. And now came regret as she began to feel sorry that she’d snapped at him.
The black bird, who’d been perched half asleep on the pommel of the mare’s saddle, rose into the air with a sharp call and a rustling of feathers. Micayta was so startled that she jerked back on the reins, drawing the mare to a stop.
Pytaki was a little slower. His horse almost walked straight into the mare’s hind end before he could get it stopped. “What’s wro–?”
There was a deep, ground-shaking rumble as an avalanche of rock and snow tumbled across the path ahead of them. Both horses whinnied, dancing backward as snow powder filled the air. The source of the avalanche became apparent as four men stepped onto the ledge above them.
Chapter Nine
Micayta’s hand dropped to her dagger.
“Still your hand, girl.” The man closest to them pointed a steel-tipped spear at her heart. “Be nice and get down from your horses real easy like and maybe we’ll let you walk out of here.”
One of his companions chuckled as he pushed back the hood of his cloak. “If you’re extra nice maybe we’ll let you stay around.” He grinned at Micayta, giving her a lingering look.
Her stomach clenched, but she smiled right back at him. “And maybe I’ll remove an important part your anatomy while you sleep.”
His grin faded, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You better watch your mouth girl. If you wanna keep that pretty head on your shoulders.”
“Why don’t you watch it for me?” She did the odds in her head and, even though she was never good at figures, she was smart enough to know she couldn’t kill four armed men with one old dagger. But maybe she could buy Pytaki enough to time to escape.
“Why you…,” He stepped forward, a curved dagger flashing in his hand, as if he intended to leap right off the ledge. Which was exactly what she wanted him to do.
“Easy.” The first man hel
d his free hand out in front of his companion. “Look here girl, you only have two choices. Either get off your horse now or I’ll run this spear clean through you.”
“It’s not much of a choice.” Maybe, just maybe, she could get her dagger unsheathed and thrown before he could make his move.
“I’ll tell you what, climb on down and I’ll let the boy walk out of here. Don’t and…,” He shrugged. “Well, we’ve been out here a long time, it don’t make a lot of difference either way.”
All this time, the black bird had been silently circling over their heads. With a shrill call, he dove straight at the man with the spear, transforming midair so that by the time he crashed into the man’s chest he was no longer a bird, but a wolf.
The man fell backwards with a shout, his spear clattering to the ground beside Micayta’s horse. For a heartbeat, nobody moved as the mixed sound of snarls and screams filled the still air. Then Micayta’s dagger was in her hand and flying toward the third man. The dagger hit its mark, lodging into the man’s throat. He dropped without a sound.
Micayta swung off her horse. She dropped to the ground and scrambled after the spear in the loose snow. Once she had it, she sprang to her feet and scaled the sort distance up the cliff wall, using bits of exposed rock for hand and footholds until she could pull herself over the rim of the ledge.
The fourth man was facing the snarling wolf using a pronged spear with a wicked sharp blade to keep the beast at bay. Micayta gripped her own spear in both hands and thwacked the man in the back of the head, knocking him off balance. One good kick to the back and he was screaming as he plummeted over the edge.
In the silence that followed, Micayta looked around for the man with the curved dagger. He was nowhere in sight. She swallowed, heart slamming against her chest with what felt like enough force to break bones. Cold breath trembled in her lungs and every nerve was tingling.
She turned to the man she’d struck with her dagger. Empty eyes stared up at her, reminding her forcefully of her father. She gritted her teeth, refusing to pay heed to her rolling stomach, and told herself that this man deserved to die.
Leaning over, she gripped the hilt of her dagger and tried not to gag on the coppery scent of blood. For a moment the dagger stuck fast, giving her a panicky sort of feeling in her chest. She braced her feet on the ground and pulled as hard as she could. The dagger popped free with a sucking sound, inducing a fresh bubble of blood to well up within the wound.
Micayta stumbled back, fearing she would be sick. Only there wasn’t anything in her stomach to come up if she was. She’d only picked at the fruit the last couple of meals, pretending to eat for her brother’s sake.
“Micayta? Are you okay up there?” Pytaki’s voice was pitched high with fear.
She turned away from the dead man with the intent of answering her brother. The words froze in her throat as she found herself looking into the gray eyes of a black wolf. Fresh blood covered his muzzle, but he didn’t bare his teeth or act aggressive in any way and the look in his eyes was the same as it had been in the bird’s.
“You’ve been a lot of help to us this past week,” Micayta said, pitching her voice low so Pytaki wouldn’t hear, “and I suppose I owe you for that. But I want to know what you are, what you really are, right now, or I’ll cut you down same as I did him.”
The wolf sat back on his haunches and became a human man clad all in black. He looked like he was in his early twenties, with light blonde hair and the bird’s gray eyes “My name is Tech and I’m…well, I suppose shape shifter will do.”
Micayta’s mouth fell open. “That’s not possible.”
“Anything is possible.” He rose gracefully to his feet, keeping his hands held up as she tightened her grip on her dagger. “Many things are improbable, but rarely impossible.”
“What’s going on up there?” Pytaki’s voice was so strained he hardly sounded like himself.
“Tie the horses to something and get up here,” she called back, keeping a wary eye on Tech. “You mean to tell me you’ve been a human all this time, pretending to be a bird?” She felt strangely betrayed and embarrassed, thinking of the things she’d said to him that she would never say to another person. Of how he’d seen her in some of her weakest moments.
“Not exactly. Though I can understand how you’d see it that way.” He smiled, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry. Your secrets are safe with me.”
She flushed, but there was no time for a retort as Pytaki was clamoring up over the side of the ledge. Panting, he looked around, paling at the sight of the bloody men. “Where is that bird…wolf…thing? He didn’t get killed, did he?”
“You’re looking at him.” Micayta waved her dagger in Tech’s direction.
Pytaki’s mouth fell open, his expression nearly identical to the one his sister had worn only moments before. “What?”
“I know this must be a shock to both of you, but please bear in mind all we’ve been through this past week. All I’ve done for you.” Tech kept his hands up, palms out. “I wouldn’t have stayed with you all this time or risked my life to save yours if my intentions were evil.”
“What’s all this business with the bird then?” Micayta asked. “Why not reveal yourself to us sooner?”
“Because you wouldn’t have trusted me as a man. You wouldn’t have given me the chance to help you. Besides, flight is the best way to get from place to place. I highly recommend it.”
Micayta frowned, trying to wrap her head around all of this. Then a thought came to her, sudden and chilling. “Can you turn into other things, besides the bird and the wolf?”
“Any creature that I’ve ever seen, be it in real life or a drawing.” He smiled rather proudly. “I can even transform other things. Let me show you.” He held his hand out toward Micayta. “Your dagger, if you please.”
Micayta was in no mood for tricks. “Even a dragon?”
Tech’s smile slipped. “Yes. But not your dragon. Not the red. I know you’re hurt and angry and afraid, even if you don’t like to show it. Still, I’m asking you to continue to trust me now as you did when I was a bird.” His eyes were soft, pleading. “You can trust me.”
Never, Micayta thought to herself. Never again would she trust anyone that easily, that blindly. She’d learned that lesson too well. But if it was help he was offering, maybe it would be all right to let him hang around awhile longer. She turned her dagger and held it hilt first toward him.
In Tech’s hands, the simple dagger with its worn leather hilt became a glittering gold sword inlaid with precious gems. “What do you think?”
“Amazing.” Pytaki’s eyes widened in childlike wonder.
“It’s real. Here, see for yourself.” He held the sword out to Micayta.
She took it, surprised by the weight. It was so heavy she couldn’t have carried it around, much less fought with it. “Pretty, but impractical.”
Tech smiled as the sword became a dagger once more. “Well, now,” he clapped his hands together, “shall we continue on to Phadra?”
“Phadra?” Micayta slid her dagger back into its sheath. “Where’s that?”
“West,” Tech said, “not far beyond these hills.”
“And what would be doing in Phadra?”
His smile danced in his eyes. “Why, dragon hunting, of course.”
Chapter Ten
Micayta leaned back against the side of the hill, looking up at the stars. She and Pytaki were bundled up beneath the blankets, side by side, while Tech curled up next to the horses in his wolf form. She envied him his thick fur.
Earlier that day, they’d stood at the top of the hill and looked out over a forest of silver, leafless trees, beyond which could be seen a faint glimmer of something on the horizon. Phadra, or so Tech had said, and they must pass through the dead forest to reach it. Or else put an extra two weeks on the trip.
Micayta disliked the idea of passing through the forest, but she doubted the food would hold out another two weeks. It
might not even last them the time it would take to get to Phadra through the forest. A fact she’d kept to herself.
“How do you expect to hunt a dragon?” Pytaki asked, keeping his voice low.
“I have no intention of hunting a dragon.”
He frowned. “But you told Tech you’d–”
“I lied. People do that, you know.” She stared out at the gathering darkness, feeling the bitter sting of memory. “They do it all the time.”
“So we aren’t going to Phadra?”
“Oh, we’re going all right and we’re going to let Tech show us the way. But once we get there, once it’s safe, we’ll go our separate ways.”
“But isn’t that kind of…dishonest? I mean don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to hunt a dragon, it’s just…well, he did save our lives.”
She sighed. “Go to sleep, little brother. Let me worry about all that.”
“Are you going stay up?”
“Someone has to keep watch,” she said. “There were four men that ambushed us. Only three died.”
“Right.” He gazed uneasily about. “Wake me up in a few hours and I’ll take my turn.”
As if she would trust their lives to him. “Sure, I’ll do that.”
Pytaki snuggled down into the blankets, his back to her, and in minutes his breath had evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep. Micayta glanced over at Tech, who seemed to be asleep as well.
It was strange to see him that way after spending so long thinking he was a bird. She was almost sorry to find out the truth. She’d found a kind of freedom with the bird. The sort of relaxation and ease of companionship she could never have with a person. An animal had no ulterior motives or hidden plans. There was no need to second guess their every move. That was all changed now. Tech could no longer be trusted nor considered a companion. He was now nothing more than a means to ensure their safety until they reached civilization.
She was grateful for his help and recognized that they would likely be dead were it not for him, but not stupid enough to believe he did these things with no ulterior motive. Somehow, she doubted it was dragon hunting.
