by M. S. Verish
“No, don’t do it,” she pleaded. “He’ll come with us. You will never see him in Valesage again. I promise!”
“Now, girlie, you can save your tears. This is just a thief about to learn his lesson. I’ve got to do this, so you can just walk away before you have to see it happen.” He had straightened and was approaching her, and it was then she realized she had taken Whitestar with her. “You’ll put that aside, girlie.”
“I’m not a ‘girlie,’” Kariayla said, emotion rising. “I am fifteen years old, and I am telling you that Jinx is with us.” She thrust her hand in her pocket and held the coins out to him while she trembled. Despite the tears in her eyes, she held the jailer’s gaze in desperation. “Take it!”
The jailer looked at Jinx, looked at Kariayla, the staff, the coins. He even looked at the Markanturian who stood breathless in the doorway behind them. “He’s a damn thief,” he muttered, but set down the knife. As he undid the shackle, he scowled at Kariayla. “Keep your coins. Just get out of my city.”
“Thank you,” Jinx breathed as he joined the duo. He still looked as though he would pass out at any moment.
Arcturus said nothing, but he reclaimed his staff and led the way outside.
“I know you’re upset with me,” Kariayla said to him, “but I couldn’t leave him. And now we have saved him just as Hawkwing has saved us.”
“Your compassion is admirable, my dear, but we have no more funds. I do not know how we will survive, let alone support a tagalong thief. And I hope that William has paid our tracker in advance, because I am not pawning Whitestar to afford a visit to his humble abode.”
The trio stepped into the afternoon sun, blinking as their eyes adjusted from the dim and dingy jail. A tall shadow moved in front of them and bowed. As soon as the figure straightened, a large, white bird flew directly to his gloved hand.
Arcturus lifted a hand to his eyes. “Hawkwing, I presume. We are most fortunate to meet you.”
8
A New Familiar Face
Kariayla looked at the familiar white hawk, then looked back at the tracker. “Jaharo?”
“Tall,” Jinx murmured, staring up at the man.
He removed his hat to reveal short-cropped hair that had faded from a rich brown to a dark gold. Then he smiled—not with his lips, but with his eyes. Golden eyes.
“Yes,” Hawkwing said, replacing his hat. “I am happy to see you both again.” His eyes fell upon Jinx, and the thief extended a dirty hand—the same hand that had been marked.
Jinx quickly switched hands. “Tall,” he murmured, staring up at the man.
Hawkwing was tall—very tall and lean. He was clean-shaven and straight-shouldered, but he wore attire that boasted not of wealth nor poverty; his jacket and hat were worn but not shabby. He was like an oak—weathered but fittingly so. He had a faint scent of leather, pine, rain, and earth—all in one—but not unpleasant.
“I confess I am confused,” Arcturus said. “You are the same man we met at the caravan. Are you not Jaharo Halensa?”
“For me, names are stories,” Hawkwing said. “Jaharo Halensa has lived for centuries, a name handed down by my father and his father and so on. Our trade was also passed down through generations. I am Jaharo Halensa, but my name is Hawkwing.”
“Because of your bird, right?” Jinx asked, reaching to touch the hawk. Her feathers rose, and she flapped her wings, and the thief backed away in surprise.
“In a way,” Hawkwing said vaguely. “Come. I would think you would prefer another setting to that of the Valesage jail.”
The trio followed him down the road, expecting him to enter the nearest inn or tavern. Instead, he veered away from the center of activity and headed for open ground just beyond the buildings. They found a collection of supplies in the back of a wagon, the large horse he had ridden from the caravan, and a nearly spent fire. Amongst the embers and ashes were wrapped bundles. Hawkwing gestured for the group to sit. He gave a quick lift of his hand, and the hawk took off. Then he crouched near the fire and pulled out the bundles.
“I assumed you would be hungry from your ordeal,” he said, unwrapping the leaves and grasses to reveal the cooked morsels of meat inside. “And questions are more easily addressed in a comfortable setting.”
“Is this a comfortable setting?” Arcturus asked under his breath.
Jinx had inched closer to the food, his eyes devouring the meat before his fingers could place it in his mouth. “Smells good.”
“When last we shared a meal with another traveler,” Arcturus said, his voice hard, “we were deceived. This seems to be the tendency in these parts.” His stomach growled for all to hear, and he bit his lip.
“As I had warned you,” Hawkwing said. “And if you think I have deceived you, I apologize. It was not my intention to be misleading, but unforeseen circumstances were guiding my actions.”
“Unforeseen circumstances?” Arcturus asked, grudgingly accepting the food offered him.
“Like the Demon,” Kariayla murmured.
“Demon? Like, the White Demon?” Jinx asked, nearly dropping the food from his lips.
“Manners, boy,” Arcturus grumbled.
“I ain’t got any. I’m a thief,” Jinx defended.
“As you have said.”
“But what about the Demon?” Jinx insisted, turning to Hawkwing and Kariayla. “You said Demon. I heard you.”
“Arcturus and I were traveling with a caravan from Belorn,” Kariayla explained. “The Prophet’s thieves attacked us, but they were apprehended.”
Jinx’s eyes threatened to fall from their sockets. “You mean, they were caught?”
“They and the infamous White Demon,” Arcturus said without expression.
“That’s impossible! They can’t be caught. The Prophet knows everything, and the Demon’s got powerful magic that can turn people to ashes.”
“No one was turned to ash,” Arcturus said. “It was, as it has ever been, bandit trickery.”
Jinx looked devastated. “I don’t believe you.”
“That is your decision.” The Markanturian set his focus upon Hawkwing. “You must satisfy my curiosity. You met me at Belorn’s market knowing that you were intended to guide us. Yet you remained someone other than yourself, and you left us to travel alone—even after certain danger had presented itself.”
Hawkwing said nothing at first, apportioning water from a large costrel into several cups. “Do you still retain the letter I had sent you?”
“I do,” Arcturus said, “unless the thieves had stolen that as well.” He searched his cloak and withdrew the paper in question.
Hawkwing did not take it from him. “I did not want you to believe I would abandon you, but I had to attend to another matter of extreme importance. I cannot tell you more than this. I tried to prepare you for what you would encounter in the Freelands. I had hoped you would exercise more discretion.” He met Arcturus’s gaze, and the Markanturian frowned.
“Kariayla and I were the victims of blatant prejudice,” Arcturus snapped. “There is no Freeland ‘code’ for ruthlessness, dishonesty, and theft. We were sheep amongst wolves.”
“I imagine it was difficult,” Hawkwing said.
“Difficult? Of course you imagine our difficulty. You were not present!” Arcturus was seething; he stood and walked a short distance from the group.
“We just need a little help,” Kariayla admitted to the tracker. “I know the journey will be better now. We were lucky you came to free us, and now you can guide us to William.”
Hawkwing gave her a slight smile and stood. Kariayla and Jinx watched as he approached the Markanturian.
“You really think it’s Hawkwing’s fault?” Jinx asked her.
Kariayla toyed with a blade of charred grass. “I think Arcturus is bothered by more than the journey, and I think there are things Hawkwing doesn’t want us to know.”
“Like he’s some kinda spy or something?”
She shrugged. “Arcturus won�
�t trust him like he did before.”
“Where are you guys goin’ anyway?” Jinx asked.
“Arcturus has a friend—a wizard named William. We are going to find him, but only Hawkwing knows where he is.”
Jinx stuffed another piece of meat in his mouth. “A real wizard?”
“Are you coming with us?” Kariayla asked.
The thief chewed thoughtfully. “My friends don’t want me back. And if I stick around here, I’m gonna lose my hand for sure.” He swallowed. “But I don’t think Arcturus wants me around.”
“I think you just need to be on your best behavior around him,” Kariayla said. “Or he’ll turn you into a pile of ashes.”
“Not funny,” Jinx said, though he cracked a smile. “So…um…you’re not a normal girl. I mean, you got wings. Which makes you….”
“Nemelorean,” she said. “I’m from the Haloan Mountains.”
“Oh. Yeah, I don’t know where those are. Do all Nemloreens have wings? What’s it like to fly?”
“Yes, and it’s wonderful.” A shadow crossed her face. “One day I’ll return there.”
Jinx scratched at his prickly chin. “You seem kinda young to be out alone. I mean, I know ya said you’re fifteen, but you look kinda like a little kid.” He saw her mouth twist and spoke quickly, “Not that you are, of course. I mean, my buddy Scorch thought you were pretty, but he’s kind of a crazy guy—not that only crazy guys would think that, but….”
“How old are you?” Kariayla asked, her eyes narrowed. “I could say that you seem too young to be on the streets.”
“Oh, but I’m not,” Jinx said, squaring his lean shoulders. “I’m…well, I think…” He tried to count on his fingers. “Last birthday I remember was… I think I’m two tens in. Maybe a little more.”
“You do not celebrate a coming of age?”
“What age? Every age comes and goes. Don’t matter on the street. Anyways, I can handle myself just fine.” He looked back in the direction of the city, his expression softening. He sighed.
“You will miss your friends,” Kariayla inferred.
“They won’t miss me,” he mumbled, then reconsidered. “Well…maybe Scorch. Scorch was my best friend, and I hate to leave him behind. I hope he’ll take care of Ruby.”
“Ruby?”
Jinx nodded but did not elaborate. They watched Hawkwing and Arcturus return.
“Arcturus is a Markanturian,” Kariayla whispered. “Some call him a Blood Wizard or a Blood Mage, but he isn’t fond of the term.”
Jinx scratched his head. “I won’t remember that word.”
Kariayla bit her lip. “You can always say, ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Prentishun.’”
The thief shrugged. “I’ll give it a try. Thanks, Kari.”
“Ayla. Kariayla.”
“Right.”
Arcturus seemed much calmer, if not somewhat reserved, as they finished their small meal. “We’ll stop again before dark,” Hawkwing said.
“Ya mean we’re leaving now?” Jinx asked.
“There is no need to tarry,” Arcturus said. “And the jailer made it quite clear that we are not welcome in this city.”
“Aw, yeah. I guess you’re right.” Jinx turned his attention to Hawkwing’s supplies. “Jedinom’s Golden Sword!” he exclaimed. “You do hunting! I always wanted to learn how to hunt.” He picked up the bow and tried to pull back on the string. “I think it’s broken.”
Hawkwing took it from him, and the weapon looked much smaller in the tracker’s large hands. “It’s not broken; it simply is not effortless.” He pulled the string back and slowly released it. “We will be hunting more often than not on our route. Once we quit the road, there will be few towns.”
“So where’re we goin’?”
“He cannot tell us,” Arcturus said flatly. “It would appear to be a secret city.”
“A secret city?” Jinx exclaimed. “So this is a real adventure—like in the stories.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So I can come with you, right…Mr. Arcturus, sir?” He grinned.
“Charming.” Arcturus used Whitestar to help him stand. “I am not responsible for you, so you may do as you wish. You understand that Kariayla and I no longer have anything of value to steal.”
“Why would I want anything from a caster anyway?”
“You will not get us into trouble,” Arcturus said firmly, “or I will turn you in to the proper authorities.”
“By Lorth, give a guy a chance,” Jinx said.
“Are we ready?” Hawkwing asked, having hitched the horse and gathered the remaining supplies.
Jinx eyed the wagon. “We get to ride in the cart?”
“Unless you prefer to run alongside,” the tracker said. “I do not normally travel this way, but given our additional passengers, I’m glad I traded for the wagon.”
“What did ya trade?” Jinx asked.
“My old maps,” Hawkwing replied, his voice quieter.
Arcturus turned to him in surprise.
“They were of no more use to me,” he said.
“You can draw new ones,” Kariayla said.
Hawkwing gave her a small smile as he hefted a bag into the bed. “I’m afraid I have been out of the map-making business for several years now. I was the last Jaharo Halensa.” He helped Kariayla into the bed.
“Why did you stop?” she asked. “Your maps were beautiful.”
“Thank you, Kariayla.” Hawkwing waited for Jinx to board. “I find my hands aren’t as steady as they once were.”
“Hmph. You are a young man yet,” Arcturus said, climbing his way into the driver’s bench. “At my age, nothing is steady.”
Hawkwing said nothing but made sure his companions were situated before he flicked the reins. They started along the road, heading east and away from the fading sun. The grasses whispered in the wind, which brought a scent of the advancing autumn. The clouds sailed by, and just below them circled the white hawk.
“You had her stay with us,” Kariayla said, addressing Hawkwing in the driver’s seat.
Arcturus cleared his throat. “Indeed,” he agreed, “though when I read of a companion in your letter, I had anticipated a fellow biped.”
“Snowfire is more reliable than most people I know,” the tracker said.
Jinx gave a sudden shout.
“What is the matter?” Arcturus asked, twisting in the seat.
“Something’s alive back here!”
“Not intentionally,” Hawkwing said, pulling the cart to a stop along the side of the road.
Jinx began sifting through the bags, and Kariayla watched in anticipation. “I know I saw something move over here—” He gave another cry as he moved a blanket aside, and Kariayla jumped.
A small creature resembling a three-foot tall girl leapt at the thief, knocking him backward.
“Ruby!” he cried, embracing the imp. “How’d you follow me?”
“What is she?” Kariayla asked, astounded. The rag-clad imp was scrawny, her little face consumed by her large green eyes and mass of tangled red hair.
“Dunno,” Jinx answered. “I found her a week ago at the market. She—uh—kinda got me into trouble.” He glanced at his hand.
“And suddenly all becomes clear,” Arcturus said. “Now she is with us. Tell me, boy, what am I thinking?”
“That she is too cute to leave behind…Mr. Arcturus?” He grinned.
“Incorrect. Try again.”
“That I haveta look after her and make sure she don’t get in any trouble?”
“Better.” Arcturus turned around.
“Her name is Ruby,” Jinx said officially. “She don’t talk or really make any noise.”
“You talk enough for the both of you,” Arcturus said.
“Hey!”
“Did you name her?” Kariayla asked.
“I did,” Jinx said proudly. He smiled at his little friend until he noticed something strapped to her back. “What is that?” He pulled at the string and removed somethi
ng flat wrapped in paper. Inside was a small, worn knife and a sloppy letter “S” scrawled on the paper.
The thief’s eyes watered. “Scorch sent her with my knife. I’ll bet he had a hard time gettin’ this on her.”
“Maybe you’ll see him again one day,” Kariayla said.
“I hope so,” he said with a nod. “At least I got Ruby.”
“And a few new friends,” she added.
Jinx gave a nod and smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
9
Names, Secrets, and Stories
He stared at the woody tangle of stems so intently that his vision began to blur. C’mon out little bunny. Some of us are really hungry. Can’t stay in there forever. His chin itched something fierce; it took all his will not to reach and scratch it. Ol’ Hawkwing’s gonna shoot ya; then we’re gonna eat ya. Just hop on outta there.
Jinx glanced at the tracker without moving his head. Hawkwing had not stirred from where he sat, bow in one hand, arrow in the other. His gaze was also upon the deeper shadows of the honeysuckle, where the rabbit had fled when Jinx had startled it.
Don’t scratch! he told himself. Not now! He saw Hawkwing raise the bow and nock the arrow. The tracker’s arm drew back silently, and the string grew taut. Jinx watched him sight the rabbit—which was still invisible to his eyes—and exhale slowly.
Jinx did not realize what he had done until his fingernails were raking across his chin. Aw, Lorth!
The rabbit bolted from its cover, heading for denser shrubs nearby. There was a sound—a sharp twang—and the motion of Hawkwing as he stood.
“Sorry,” Jinx said. “I’m really sorry. Didn’t mean to move. Just kinda happened. I—Didja get it?” He stood, too, and crept behind the tracker.
“I didn’t,” he said, and proceeded to approach the shrubs. He plucked the arrow from the ground and forced his way into the tangled growth. Jinx followed him.
Hawkwing crouched beside the rabbit’s body and the victorious hawk who had taken its life. “You couldn’t resist, could you?” he murmured. “This one wasn’t for you.” He gently nudged Snowfire aside and claimed the rabbit. With his knife he cut away a piece and tossed it to the bird.
