by M. S. Verish
“We are all curious,” the Markanturian said with a sigh. He slowed to a stop, and Kariayla nearly ran into him.
“What’s going on?” Jinx asked.
“Nothing,” Arcturus said. “Nothing at all.” He dabbed his brow with a handkerchief. “And because there is nothing ‘going on,’ I am taking this moment to catch my breath.”
“What about Hawkwing?” Kariayla asked, craning to see ahead of the obstructing Markanturian. Instead, she heard a noise behind her; Jinx was watching her with a wry smile.
“I am certain our tracker is perceptive enough to notice we have stopped. I am confident he will wait for us. This is, after all, a narrow path with only one destination.” He leaned heavily on his staff and took a deep breath.
“I…just didn’t know if we should lose sight of him,” she said.
“Kariayla, do calm down,” Arcturus said. “There is no cause for agitation. We are in the middle of a desolate path. I, for one, am weary and famished.”
“Me too,” Jinx said. “And Ruby.”
“These blatant oversights in our guide’s consideration will award him with mutiny,” Arcturus said. “Or at the very least, we deserve a moment to breathe. Apparently Falquirians have no such necessity.” His stomach growled loudly enough for them all to hear.
Kariayla nodded and waited anxiously while costrels were opened and long drinks were taken. More long drinks were taken, and then there was a series of sighs. Then stiff joints were rubbed, there was some grunting and groaning, and more drinks were taken. Finally, Arcturus straightened. “Are we ready?” he asked.
*
Hawkwing looked down the trail, waiting for his group to appear. With sounds muffled amongst the grasses, he had not heard them stop. He reasoned that they could not be far behind, and eventually they would have to catch up to him. He might turn back and find them, but in his absence, they might walk a little faster. The second marker would appear before sunset…if his group did not delay too long.
He looked at Snowfire and sighed. “They doubt me,” he said, and the hawk cocked its head at him. “I left them to travel the Freelands, and the price is their trust. I made my choice, and I hope it had been the right one. Bill will want to know about the ambush.”
A shadow passed overhead, and Hawkwing looked skyward to see…nothing. Snowfire ruffled her feathers. “You see how I fool myself into thinking I am still on watch. Those days are over, but I can’t let them go.” He shook his head. “This one could be significant, though. The Priagent, the Demon, the Prophet…the death of a noble. There is something amiss.”
Two more shadows passed over the ground, and he looked up again at an empty sky. Snowfire’s bill was gaping, and she looked twice her size. “Easy,” he said warily. “You know this route. Stay and be easy.”
The hawk flapped her wings, and Hawkwing reached to place his other hand on her back. “Be—”
A group of shadows sent Snowfire air bound. “No—” Hawkwing could not catch her in time. He watched helplessly as she sailed over the grasses. He whistled for her return, but she beat her wings madly, as though pursued. He raised his hand, and she dipped—too low—atop the blades. There was a squawk of alarm, and he saw that something had snared her. She remained caught where he could see her—several yards from the path. She cried and struggled frantically, and he stared at her, indecisive.
Hawkwing glanced down the empty path, then back at Snowfire. She’s so close. I can’t leave her when she’s so close. Even as he stepped off the path, he knew he would regret his decision.
*
“There ain’t no way he got this far without us,” Jinx said. “We didn’t stop that long.”
“No, we did not. I sincerely hope he is not trying to teach us a lesson,” Arcturus said, his voice tense with building anger. “I will certainly demand an explanation for this abandonment.”
“He could be waiting at the next marker,” Kariayla said.
Jinx frowned. “He still left us.”
“Perhaps by accident,” she said.
“Let us not make excuses for him.” Arcturus kept his sight on the path ahead. “For as much as I may doubt his motives, I am not willing to believe he would desert us completely.”
Jinx kicked at the grass. “So what if we get to the next resting spot, and he ain’t there?”
“Stay on the path, James,” Arcturus reprimanded. “And we will not speculate to his folly.”
“Since when did you believe—”
Arcturus glanced back at him. “I am not the one familiar with this place. We will heed the orders our guide had given us. We will stay on the path.”
Kariayla repeatedly glanced skyward, looking for any trace of the white hawk. The only sign more troubling than Snowfire’s absence was the steady descent of the sun. They pressed on with few words, and within the hour, the path opened around another stone marker.
“He ain’t here,” Jinx voiced. “See? I had a feeling….”
Arcturus knelt beside the marker and removed the lid as Hawkwing had done. Wizard’s Fire was soon burning in their midst, though none of them drew any comfort from the light. “We must not give way to needless fear,” he said, his voice even. “Our course of action is obvious. We will proceed as though our guide was with us. Tonight we will camp here, ration our food, and find rest. At dawn, if he has not returned, we will continue on the path to the third marker.” He began to divide some of their victuals.
“I’m not hungry,” Kariayla admitted when he handed her the bread.
Arcturus frowned. “My dear, we must keep our strength and our wits.”
“Something happened to him,” she insisted.
He squeezed her shoulder. “I, as much as anyone, would dread think of any misfortune befalling our guide—”
“Hawkwing,” Kariayla said just above a whisper. “His name is Hawkwing.”
“We must place faith in Hawkwing,” Arcturus said. “He knows these Plains, and he is a very capable man.” He pressed the bread into her hand. “We must not fail him or ourselves.”
She nodded and nibbled a piece.
“Hey,” Jinx said, “can’tcha fly up and see if you spot him?”
Kariayla gauged the size of their circle and shook her head. “There’s not enough room,” she said, despondent.
“No matter,” Arcturus assured her. “With the sun gone, you would be unable to see him even if he was near.”
Jinx fidgeted with his knife. “Hope he’s alright. I didn’t really think he’d leave us.” He looked up to see Ruby pawing at the edge of the grass. “Hey, get back here,” he said uneasily. When she did not heed him, he crept to the imp’s side. “What is that? A firefly?”
A tiny red spark drifted among the stalks, just beyond their reach.
“There aren’t any fireflies out now,” Kariayla said. “It’s too cold.”
“Then it’s a fairy,” Jinx said. “A little red fairy. Come see.”
She and Arcturus joined him, trying to discern any detail from the drifting, luminous speck. “There is another,” Kariayla said, spying a second spark nearby. After a moment, they saw that the grasses were full of moving pinpoints of red light.
“Most curious,” Arcturus said. “And strangely beautiful. Perhaps it is a manifestation of the magic used to preserve these Plains.”
“Or it’s a fairy,” Jinx repeated. “We should try to catch one.” He grabbed at a spark, one foot at the edge of the path.
Kariayla frowned and tugged on his sleeve. “I don’t think we should get too close.”
“Because it might twinkle at me?” He reached for another, but uncurled his fingers to find nothing there. “I swore I got that one,” he muttered.
“Come and finish your meal, James,” Arcturus said. The Markanturian had already reseated himself by the fire, busy with his own rations.
The thief glanced in his direction, then spun around completely. “Hey—where’s Ruby?”
Arcturus and Kariayla searched th
e surrounding circle, but the imp had vanished.
“She may have been preoccupied with the same diversion as you,” Arcturus said.
“But what if she went off the path?” Jinx asked, his volume growing with his concern. He paced the perimeter, pushing armfuls of tall grass aside.
“She has always returned to you. I would not fret needlessly.”
Kariayla had joined the thief, though she searched the darkness with only her eyes. Arcturus sighed, set down his food, and stood. “Keep calm. We will find her.”
“Stupid grass,” Jinx cursed, kicking at it. “Stupid fairies. Stupid plains.” He cupped his hands to his lips. “Ruby! Ruby, come back!” His words hit the wall of vegetation and fell flat.
“James, we—-” Arcturus fell silent at the rustling of leaves. The three of them turned toward the sound, their eyes prying at the shadows.
“Ruby?” Jinx breathed. He dashed ahead, breaking the boundary of the path. As he did so, the red pinpoints of light disappeared, and the Wizard’s Fire flared and died. Impenetrable darkness dropped upon them.
“James!” Arcturus cried.
“Jedinom’s Sword,” the thief uttered, his voice small. “Can’t see nuthin’!”
“Like in the story,” Kariayla whispered from where she stood.
There was a moment of silence.
“I want the two of you to continue talking,” Arcturus said. “We must locate one another. We must stay together.”
“Lorth,” Jinx breathed. “I don’t like this. I don’t—”
“Do not panic,” Arcturus said. “Listen to my voice. Try to find—”
The ground shuddered before it reached their ears: the low and resonant sound of a horn. Unlike their voices, it stretched across the sky, vibrated through their feet, and swallowed the whole of them in a deep and solitary note that endured for what seemed like minutes. When at last it fell silent, Arcturus called to them, but neither Jinx nor Kariayla answered.
*
Where’s the path? Where’s the damn path? Jinx could see nothing, and no matter which direction he headed, there was nothing but brittle stalks in his way. I didn’t go that far… The sound of his own breathing rivaled his heartbeat. Jedinom help me! This ain’t good. No good.
“Arcturus!” he belted. “Kariayla!” There was nothing. “Ruby?” he whispered. He froze, horrified. What if the demons heard me? His eyes strained against the darkness, and he tried not to breathe. Was it his imagination, or was there a dim, red light beyond the grasses? He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Like a faint and luminous haze, a shift in color drew his eyes to the horizon—or what he thought to be the horizon.
Could be the demons, Jinx thought, suppressing a chill. I’m gonna stay right here. I’m not gonna move an inch—not ‘til Arcturus finds me. I know he’s looking for me. I know he is. And he’s got magic, and he’ll take me back to the path….
Though there was no breeze to be felt, the grasses began to stir around him. They swayed and rustled, and each passing moment earned more momentum. Soon a whirlwind was upon him. Eyes wild and heart ready to shatter through his chest, Jinx bolted. He ran toward the distant haze ahead of him, swearing something was on his heels, not daring to look back. Fueled by adrenaline, he smashed through the dried stalks on legs that seemed not to belong to him until he suddenly pitched forward into empty air. The tall grasses had given way to open ground.
The red haze was like a bloodstain in the sky, casting the barren soil in a ruddy light. A flickering illumination caught his attention, and he gaped at what looked like an advancing mass of flame. This ain’t happening, he told himself. It can’t be real. It’s just a story. Lorth, it’s just a story!
The flames were shaped as a galloping steed, and astride the fire-beast was a warrior. Garbed in armor and tattered flesh, a skeletal monster with abysmal eyes gripped a large, black blade. The weapon was poised above its head as its course for Jinx narrowed. The thief’s eyes bulged as the blade was lowered nearly to the ground, ready to cleave its target in half.
He could not close his eyes—not even to blink—as his thoughts failed to command his worthless limbs. I’m gonna die.
There was a sudden force propelling him into motion, and the ground moved beneath him. Rather, he moved over the ground as he was wrenched and dragged from his inevitable doom. Jinx was flipped onto his back, the red sky silhouetting a tall and lanky shape above him.
“H-Hawkwing?” he gasped.
The tracker’s sight, however, was upon their otherworldly foe. He gripped Jinx’s arm. “Get up!” he commanded, helping pull the thief to his feet.
The demon was about to make another pass.
“Run!” Hawkwing cried.
But there was nowhere to run.
Jinx ran anyway, stumbling over the rocky ground. He split from Hawkwing’s side, but the demon kept after him. The flame steed was gaining speed, and in another moment, it would be upon him. His legs gave out just as he felt the heat—and another sensation: the breeze of a weapon in motion. He was on the ground again, a mouth full of dirt as the demon rider trampled him. Jinx screamed, and the darkness exploded into blinding, white light.
The intense heat vanished, but the light was slow to fade. Darkness returned like ripples in a puddle, but it was the darkness of night and not some abysmal peril. There were stars above him, and he was moving through the grasses of the Plains. Not dead, he thought. Not smashed or burned to a crisp. But he was not walking on his own. A strong arm helped pull him along, and the arm was attached to a very tall man with a grim expression. Hawkwing. Not a demon, Jinx thought, relieved. He saw that there was a light ahead of them—a beacon brighter than a star—visible through the forest of stalks and leaves.
They broke through the vegetation, and Jinx stumbled into the open circle of the path. Arcturus was there waiting for them, the top of his staff glowing with enough intensity that he used his free hand to shield his eyes. Kariayla stood slightly behind him, near the cool blaze of the Wizard’s Fire. A blunt force slammed into his legs, and he looked down to see Ruby clinging to him, her eyes round as coins.
Hawkwing released him as Jinx knelt down to snatch the imp up in his arms. “I thought you ran away,” he said, his fingers catching in her tangled hair.
“She returned,” Arcturus said in a stern tone that promised a lecture. “You did not.” He was already approaching them, the light of the staff dimming like an ember. “My boy, are you all right?”
Jinx gaped at him. “The demon—Arcturus, it came at me! There was a horse of fire, and it charged, and the bones with flesh all—” He paused only to shudder. “A huge blade,” he said, flinging his arms wide and startling Ruby. “It was gonna kill me. It came at me and—and—”
“James, calm down.” Arcturus grunted and crouched beside him. “Are you injured?”
“I—I don’t think so, but if Hawkwing ain’t’ve come, I would be,” he insisted. He saw the Markanturian’s eyes flick to the tracker, who had moved away in Kariayla’s direction. “Jedinom’s Sword, I thought I was dead.”
“You seem to be very much alive,” Arcturus said, his concern abating to a slight smile. “Come by the fire.”
They joined Kariayla, who had sat down with her head in her hands.
“Hey—you alright?” Jinx asked, finding a place next to her.
She looked at him, dazed, and nodded.
Arcturus’s smile widened, and he patted the girl’s shoulder. “Kariayla is responsible for recovering Whitestar. It had fallen from my grasp, and she managed to locate it despite the darkness. I do not know how I could have signaled you without it.”
“Yeah, the light,” Jinx said. “That’s what scared the demon away.”
Arcturus raised an eyebrow. “I think, perhaps, your fear seized control of your reason.”
The thief blinked. “Huh? Wait—you don’t believe me?”
“I did not see any demon,” Arcturus said. “And in such complete darkness, neither would you.”
“It wasn’t that dark—not where I was. The sky was red, and I saw it with its horse—”
“I would have noticed a horse of flame, my boy, even if you had gone a distance. Darkness has a way of magnifying your fears. Our tracker’s story,” he glared at Hawkwing, “left a strong impression in your mind.”
Jinx crossed his arms defiantly. “It was Hawkwing who seen it too. He saved my life.” He turned to the tracker. “Tell him, Hawkwing. Tell him I’m not makin’ this up.”
The tracker looked up from the white hawk perched on his hand, but he said nothing.
“His guilt at having frightened you with his story leaves him hard-pressed to answer,” Arcturus said pointedly. “Though I confess I am eager to hear why we had been abandoned.”
“We all heard the horn, Arcturus—” Jinx protested.
“James.”
“Kariayla—” The thief looked at the girl, but she appeared no less confused than before.
“Enough!” Arcturus snapped. “There were no demons, but I do demand an explanation from the one man who has any answers.”
All eyes turned to Hawkwing, who allowed Snowfire to walk from his hand to his pack upon the ground. “I left the path,” he said.
“For what purpose?” the Markanturian demanded.
“Snowfire had been caught; I went to free her,” Hawkwing said quietly.
“Come again?”
Hawkwing lifted his chin but did not repeat himself.
“You—who warned us of the inherent danger of these plains—did not follow your own caution?” Arcturus thumped Whitestar upon the ground. “You abandoned us for your pet?” He shook his head. “I do not claim to understand you or how it is that you are so highly reputed. Your stories, your evasiveness, your negligence… It is a wonder we have not already suffered mishap.” He spread his arms. “Ah, but wait—we have. Sent to wander the Freelands alone, Kariayla and I had a pleasant time in jail. How had I forgotten?
“Do you care to tell Master James why he imagined he was pursued by a demon? Or might you extend the courtesy to the rest of us to elaborate upon our sudden darkness? The truth would regain you a sliver of credibility,” Arcturus said. An uncomfortable silence followed while they waited for their guide to answer.
