by Pam Brondos
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous because your arse is hairier than his face?” The guard on the riverbank grabbed the torch sputtering on the ground near Soris. “Do what you want with the beardless boy. I’m done searching the forest. Leave him for the Nala.” Gravel crunched under his boots as he walked down the bank.
“You’re deserting the search!” cried the guard. “You’ll be in the stockades by morning.”
“I’m not deserting the search, you imbecile. The road needs to be searched, too, and I won’t have to keep looking into the blasted treetops for those blue demons,” the other guard called out as he disappeared around a bend.
“Coward,” the guard mumbled as he turned his attention to Soris. “What kind of man shaves his beard?” He kicked Soris again, pushing him onto his back. Soris groaned. Nat looked through the crosshairs. “A man with something to hide, I say.” The guard raised his sword.
A hand clamped down on Nat’s and a finger slipped between hers and the trigger. The woman’s face was blackened with dirt and bits of crumbled leaves. She pressed a finger to her lips, then turned and pointed toward a tree to her right. A shadow, perched in a crook halfway up the tree, loosed an arrow. It flew over the bushes and pierced the back of the guard. He landed with a thud facedown next to Soris. Soris twisted his head frantically, looking for the archer. The shadow dropped silently and was joined by another woman holding a curved sword low at her side.
An orb appeared in front of Nat’s face, circled her head, then whizzed down the bank after the Rustbrook Guard. The bulge of Barba’s orb pressed into her side. If Barba’s orb was in her cloak, where had the other orb come from? Nat glanced at the woman at her side. Her dirt-encrusted face broke into a tight smile as she easily wrested the crossbow from Nat and motioned for her to follow. Two cloaked figures approached Soris and the dead guard. Nat scrambled toward the bank but felt an iron fist clamp down on her thigh.
“Your friend will be fine. Come with me now,” she said to Nat. Her voice was low and barely audible.
“No, he’s coming . . .” The look on the woman’s face stopped her.
“He will be fine,” she repeated.
They walked uphill for several minutes through the dark trees until they reached a small rocky outcrop at the top of a hill. The woman pulled out an orb and jumped from rock to rock until she reached a ledge. She jumped onto the ledge and disappeared. They must be the Sisters from Rustbrook, Nat realized as she stared at the ledge above her. She twisted around and looked down the valley to the river. Swaying treetops obscured the riverbank. Soris was nowhere to be seen in the starlight. She lurched up the last rock and discovered the entrance to a cave. It smelled like something wet and moldy had recently died. Avoiding the sharp, jagged edges, Nat collapsed in the center, close to the entrance.
The Sister, leaning against the curved mouth of the cave, regarded Nat. “Do you have any food in there?” She gestured to the satchels.
Nat unhooked her bag and rummaged until she found a crumbling packet of biscuits. She pulled one out and held it up as her stomach growled. The Sister plucked the food from her hand. Nat turned her attention back to the satchel. Pretending to search for more food, she tucked her short dagger under her cloak sleeve and pulled out another biscuit. A corked water skin was dangling in the air in front of Nat when she looked up.
“Please, take some,” the Sister said. Nat’s lips twitched. She took a long drink and handed the skin back. The Sister gripped her wrist tightly. “Hold your arm straight.” She beckoned her orb. It hovered above Nat’s arm, emitting a bluish light. A few loose strands of mud-encrusted hair fell into her face as she traced Nat’s markings with her finger. The mask of dirt and leaves hid her features, but her cheeks were sunken and thin. Nat tried to stop the shaking in her hands as the Sister inspected her arm. After a moment, the Sister dropped her arm and looked at her with curiosity. Her eyes shone in the dark. Nat waited for the accusations of fraud, but none came. “You were in Rustbrook yesterday morning on Wesdrono Street.” It was a statement rather than a question.
“Yes,” Nat replied. She glanced at the mouth of the cave, wondering where Soris and the other two Sisters were.
“What brought you to Rustbrook on a hanging day?” Her tone was light, almost as if asking about a holiday.
“We had business there,” she answered. A feeling of uneasiness came over her.
“Business?” the Sister replied. “With Mudug?” Maybe she thought they were working for him.
“No—well, yes, but nothing to do with Sisters. I needed his help.” Nat decided a little truth would be better than a total lie.
“No one helps a Sister these days, especially not Mudug.” Her voice was cold. She turned and faced the entrance. The wind gently spun her hair around her head. She kicked a small rock and walked out of the cave. It clattered down the hill, ricocheting off the rocks below. A light wind tossed her cloak haphazardly around her legs. A storm was moving in. Thick, bumpy clouds appeared briefly with a flash of lightning, then disappeared into the darkness.
“I almost left you and your companion after the guards’ ambush,” she said as she turned around. Her voice was low, blending with the rustle of the leaves. “We’ve had more than our share of trouble today. I wasn’t keen on more.” She pulled the edge of her cloak away from her leg. An irregular, dark stain marred a strip of gray cloth wound around her thigh.
“Why did you help us, then?” Nat asked. The conversation was going downhill fast, but she tried to keep her tone relaxed.
“You pulled an orb from the tree, which makes you either a thief or a Sister. It’s my practice to punish an orb thief. I also make it a practice to help a Sister in need. It’s something we do.” She stared at Nat, her eyes hooded and black. Fat drops of rain randomly pelted the rocks near the cave entrance. The wind kicked up puffs of dirt around the Sister’s leather boots. She tilted her head toward the sky. Thin rivulets of dirty water ran down her cheeks, washing away some of the muck.
“I’m not a thief, and I was doing fine on my own,” Nat said, trying to hide the shaking in her voice. If she hit the Sister head-on, she might have enough force to push her over the ledge. Or maybe she could use her dagger. She felt its hilt under her cloak. But then what? How would she find Soris or get home?
“I am not sure what you were trying to do, but you were far from ‘doing fine.’ Do you really think you would have hit the guard and saved your friend?” The Sister wiped her cheek and flicked a clump of dirt off her finger. She stepped into the cave out of the rain.
“Yes.” Nat’s voice wavered.
The Sister raised an eyebrow. “Doubtful. Your angle was wrong. Your friend would be dead right now if we hadn’t helped.” She folded a long leg and sat on a little ledge. So much for the head-on hit, Nat thought. The Sister untied the dirty dressing around her injured thigh. Her orb bobbed up and down near the wound. “Sheath your blade,” she said to Nat while examining the gash.
Nat ducked her head to keep the flush in her cheeks from showing. She pulled the sheath out of the satchel, slid the dagger in place, and attached it to her belt. If she could find Soris so they could get on their way, she wouldn’t have to second-guess everyone and everything. Sighing, she pulled out Barba’s orb and whispered to it. The orb joined the Sister’s, casting a brighter light on her wound. “You’re right,” Nat said as she pulled out a rolled-up strip of linen containing herbs. “We probably would be dead.” She shivered as she looked for the silvery-white herb Ethet told her to use on open wounds. She held it up for the Sister to examine.
“I haven’t seen that in a while,” the Sister said as she carefully took the thin stalk from Nat. She rinsed the wound with water and crumbled the herb into the open gash. Little bits of silvery-green covered the wound.
“Were the other Sisters injured?” Nat asked.
“Once I got the sword to Camden, she was as
safe as a Warrior Sister in a nest of Nala. Sister Pauler broke a rib jumping from a roof. She’ll mend.” The gash was long and bloody.
Nat remembered another ointment Sister Ethet had given her and pulled the small opaque glass container from her bag. “Here.” She handed it to her. “This should help with the bleeding and infection. Is Sister Camden the one they were going to hang?”
The Sister nodded, turned the lid, and sniffed the contents. Her head jerked back. “Where did you get this?” she demanded.
“From a Sister—a Healing House Sister. It’s perfectly safe. I’m not sure what she put in it, but I’m not trying to poison you. Here—see?” Nat dabbed some onto her finger and smeared it across the cut on her cheek. The Sister eyed her suspiciously, then took the balm and began applying it to her wound. She finished the application, tightened the lid, and handed it back to Nat. “Keep it.” Nat held up a hand. Maybe generosity would get her out of this mess. “Are there any Sisters from a Healing House still around who can help you with that? It’s going to need stitching.”
“They’re all gone,” she said flatly as she took the clean linen cloth Nat offered and rewrapped the wound. “Mudug rounded up Healing House Sisters first, before any of us understood what was going on. Those who are still alive are either too frightened to practice their art of healing or are too far out on the fringe to do anyone any good.” She met Nat’s gaze. “You must be from the fringe if you still have contact with a Healing House Sister.” She leaned against the stone wall and waited for Nat’s response. When none came, she shrugged and continued. “You’re an odd one.” She stood and adjusted her heavy cloak. “You command your orb by voice and not thought. Your markings are antiquated.” She reached for Nat’s forearm and ran a finger over the markings. “They’re so old, maybe as old as—”
A shrill cry like a night owl cut through the sound of the rain. The Sister dropped Nat’s arm. “Let’s go.” She stepped out into the rain. “If you want to see your friend again, that is.” She disappeared over the ledge. Nat grabbed her satchels and orb and hurried behind her. Despite her injured leg, the Sister was already halfway down the rocky slope. Nat managed to keep her in sight by ordering her orb to follow her and emit a low light. They pushed through a thicket of bushes with long, thin branches and pointed leaves.
“Put your orb out, you fool!” the Sister hissed when she realized it was following her. “Do you want the guards—or worse, a Nala—to see us?” She let go of a branch, and it whapped Nat on her uninjured cheek. Another trickle of blood streamed down her face. Feeling utterly foolish, she pocketed the orb and hastened after her. The rain barely penetrated the upper canopy, but the forest floor was slick. Nat struggled over the wet rocks that protruded through the spongy ground. The Sister ran faster despite the conditions. They reached the edge of a forest along the riverbank. Nat, now breathing heavily, thought that they must have traveled at least two miles upriver from where she and Soris had first met the Sisters. The Sister let out a shrill call similar to the one Nat had heard in the cave. A cloaked figure stepped out of the woods onto the bank ahead of them. They wound their way through the trees, keeping to the forest, as they made their way to the figure.
Soris lay unconscious by a large tree. Nat brushed past her companion and rushed to him. A large red welt the size of an egg pulsed at the base of his skull. She looked up angrily at the Sister standing over him. Her straw-colored hair was tucked into a dark hood, her cheeks were hollow, and dark, heavy circles hung below her blue eyes. “What did you do to him?” Nat yelled.
“Hush!” The Sister from the cave clapped her hand over Nat’s mouth. “You are louder than a flock of geese. Between your breaking every wet branch you stepped on—how you managed that I’ll never know—and lighting your orb in the forest, and now this outburst, it’s a wonder Mudug’s guards or the Nala haven’t shown up.” She dropped her hand. Nat futilely swatted her arm away. “Camden, before our young Sister here cries out again, tell her what happened.”
Sister Camden pursed her thin lips and glared at Nat. “They must be a pair. By the time we had him unbound and on his feet, he was shouting and yelling, ‘Where’s the Sister, where’s the Sister?’” She quietly mimicked Soris’ voice and waved her arms. Despite her haggard appearance, she sounded forceful. “He was thoroughly uncooperative and a risk to us all. So I knocked him out, and then Pauler helped me bring him here. We should have left him to the guards. Pauler was in no condition to lug someone through the forest.”
Sister Pauler pushed the bushes on the riverbank quietly to the side and joined the four of them at the base of the tree. She held her arm tightly against her ribcage. “Good to see you, Rory. It took us longer than expected to get here, and I’m sorry to say we weren’t able to get any information from him before Camden knocked him out.” She handed a water flask to Camden.
“Any sign of approach?” Sister Rory asked. Nat listened carefully to the exchange while she examined Soris.
“No,” Pauler replied. “But the rain is letting up. They’ll be on us again soon.”
Soris rolled over and groaned. He pushed against the muck and found himself staring into Nat’s face. “What happened?” he asked.
“We were rescued, I think.” Nat gave Sister Camden a nasty look and addressed Sister Rory. “We need to be on our way. Thank you for your . . . help.” She tugged at Soris’ arm, dragging him to his feet.
He wobbled and slapped a hand against the trunk to gain balance. “This has not been my day,” he muttered.
“You’re forgetting something, Sister.” Rory took a step to the side, so the Sisters created a line in front of them. “You never told me what business you had with Mudug. No Sister is foolish enough to travel through Rustbrook, let alone work a deal with Mudug with that on her arm.” She pointed to Nat’s markings. Pauler and Camden leaned in for a closer look, and Nat instinctively pressed her arm to her side.
“He never found out I was a Sister. We needed something from his Chemist and brought riven in exchange.”
“What did you need from the Chemist? Think before you say medicine or healing services.” She pointed to her leg. “You aren’t lacking access to either.”
Nat took a deep breath and looked at Soris. He nodded slightly. A bug landed on her lip, and she brushed it away, giving herself a moment to figure out what to say. “The Chemist had created a way to track my friends. I adjusted it slightly. We used Soris as a ruse to get to the Chemist by claiming he’d been bitten by a snake.”
Rory and Pauler exchanged glances, and Pauler silently disappeared into the brush. “You said a way to track your friends. Do you know if he was tracking others?” Rory asked.
“If he was, it will be difficult or impossible for him to do it now,” Nat replied. “It should take him a while to figure out what happened.” She thought of the crazed woman smashing vials, and the glass raining down like a sleet storm. “There was a disruption that allowed us to get away, and I believe we ruined his ability to track.”
Camden adjusted her sword and disappeared in Pauler’s direction. Rory, her face still half-covered with dirt, glared at Nat and Soris. The sound of the river punctuated the silence. Nat glanced up toward the trees, half expecting to see Pauler or Camden with bows trained on them.
Finally, Rory exhaled and pointed upriver. “Mudug’s using the Nala to control the trade routes from the coast. He has guards scattered from Rim Town to Rustbrook who serve as protection for the merchants, but he’s got some kind of agreement with the Nala to let them move through the corridor undisturbed. Without a Warrior Sister in tow, the band could be taken out by the Nala in minutes, Rustbrook Guards or not. I’d avoid that area for now.”
She faced Soris. “You look a little like your brother Gordon, Soris.” His eyes widened. “I am amazed you made it through Rustbrook with no one noticing the resemblance. I was an apprentice when Emilia attended our Warrior House, and I met G
ordon on more than one occasion. Their loss was . . . felt by us all.” Rory placed a gentle hand on Soris’ shoulder, then turned to Nat.
“When you meet up with your Sisters, let them know there are a band of us in the North. I’ve heard of a House deep in the forest between the Meldon Plain and the coast, but other than that, Mudug has been true to his word and destroyed any of us that he could find. The Nala have had free rein on those from any House. I know of only a handful still in this area. Travel safely. Travel free.”
She was near the brush when Soris called out, “Sister, there is refuge south of the copper mines in the canyons.”
“Thank you.” Rory paused and looked at Nat. “You have an obligation that comes with those markings, even in these times. Don’t forget it.” She disappeared through the brush.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The fire crackled and popped. Soris stirred the black pot and ladled stew into a wooden bowl. He nodded at a woman straddling a log next to the fire. Her eyes flickered in his direction as she scraped with a knife one of the rabbit hides Soris had exchanged for the meal and the earlier ride on her wagon.
He skirted the collection of fires and rough-looking merchants speaking in low tones. The free travelers’ wagons formed a semicircle around the camp. A few travelers were already banking the fires, choking the flames with dirt. The grass brushed Soris’ calves as he passed the long poles penning the shaggy horses. He ran up a small hill toward Nat. “It’ll be cool enough by now,” he said and handed her the wooden bowl. “You’d have thought she’d give me two bowls after all the rabbits I dropped at her feet.” She scooted over, making room for him on a bedroll tucked against a slab of pale rock. He pressed close to Nat and wrapped the bedroll around his side.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she said and brought the bowl to her lips. The stew tasted gamey. She bit into a sweet root and passed the bowl to Soris.
“That’s an odd expression.” He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Odd, but true. They didn’t offer the most comfortable ride, did they?” He smiled at her and she laughed.
