Chasers of the Wind

by Alexey Pehov

  Hearing the words “normal people” from the gloomy northerner with the overgrown ginger beard and the bedraggled clothes would have, at any other time, caused Luk to go into fits of laughter. But right now there was nothing to laugh about. Besides, he didn’t look any better than his comrade. He looked like a scarecrow. But to scare people instead of crows. A city guard would take them for beggars or highwaymen.

  “All right, let’s do it your way,” said the guard, reaching for his axe.

  “I’m glad we agree.” Ga-Nor grunted approvingly. “Just, you’re being too hasty. It’s too early to move yet. The archers won’t just let us go.”

  “Where are they?”

  “There’s two of them about a hundred yards from here. They’re coming toward the mill. Don’t look! They’ll see you. It’s still too soon.”

  The soldier breathed a sigh of disappointment and rested his axe over his knees. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his furiously beating heart.

  * * *

  Tia was forced to pause in the middle of the inn’s staircase because just at that moment the raven called her. Her vision momentarily darkened, a greasy lump stuck in her throat, her ears began ringing, and her eyes were struck by a glaring light. The Damned needed several seconds to orient herself and to apprehend what she was seeing. The first moments of looking at the outside world through the bird’s eyes were always difficult.

  She was hovering between earth and sky. To her left flashed the dark blue ribbon of the river, reflecting the bright sun and the dark wall of the forest. Tia sent a mental command and changed the direction of its flight. Farther away from the market gardens and outskirts, closer to the center. People were scurrying about below. She wasn’t very high up, so Typhoid could make out the Nabatorians clearly. A cart laden with firewood was slowly making its way down a dusty street. A foursome of cavalry flew by it at a full gallop.

  “Well, where are you hiding?” whispered the Damned. “Show yourself.”

  She had to trust that her luck would continue to accompany her. Typhoid again changed the direction of flight. She drifted toward the river, closer to the eastern part of Dog Green. The raven flew over a water mill, a bridge; it dashed by roofs, alleys, gardens, vegetable patches, and then she saw the gutted house and the people. Five armed men and a woman with a khilss.

  She didn’t think the girl would be so young. To have such blazing potential at such an age! No, she did not resemble a Walker at all. Her strength was palpable, but there was no trace of the characteristic weaves of the Imperial mages. She had clearly not been taught in the Rainbow Valley (the magical school of the Walkers is located in the Rainbow Valley). Through the raven, the Damned reached out to the bearer of the Gift, trying to surreptitiously test the extent of her powers. The fool, of course, wouldn’t be able to feel a thing; it was beyond the limits of her capabilities.

  But then the woman turned her head sharply. Squinting for a moment, she looked at the bird and then pointed it out to a blond man standing next to her. Before Typhoid had the chance to lead her helper away, the man cast up his bow.

  Her ears burned with a sharp pain, the world went dark, and the enraged Damned once again found herself in the inn.

  * * *

  Impaled by the arrow, the bird crashed to the street like a stone. I didn’t really know why Layen had made such a fuss about it, but I did what she asked without any unnecessary questions.

  “Getting a little practice in?” asked Shen venomously.

  I scowled at him. Sooner or later the kid would get what was coming to him. He’d come up against some nice man who’d be all too happy to cut out his tongue.

  “No, he knocked it down for your supper,” Midge teased him.

  “You eat it yourself!” snapped the healer.

  “Shut your traps!” yelled Layen. The idiotic bickering was starting to irritate her. “Let’s make time!”

  Just then the body of the raven dissolved into thin air, leaving behind only the arrow, which I quickly returned to my quiver. Midge exclaimed loudly at the strange disappearance of my trophy.

  “The bird was his eyes.” My sun was trying to calm the hissing staff. “Now he knows where we are.”

  “Can I give some advice?” Whip was looking at me questioningly.

  I shrugged my shoulders. If he had something to say, let him say it.

  “We need to get off the street. Right now any mutt can see us, and any minute now the Nabatorians will come and—”

  As if in answer to his fears, four riders galloped out onto the street.

  Before Bamut and I had the chance to aim, Layen leaped in front of us. The loathsome wail rang out again, and a magical concussion struck the soldiers. Until today I never would have thought that people, not to mention horses, had the ability to fly; it turned out they did, even if they couldn’t do it quite as well as most birds. I got the impression that an enormous club struck the group of riders and heaved them up into the sky as if they weighed less than flecks of dust. If any of them chanced to live through that blow, I didn’t envy them. Landing on the unforgiving earth isn’t really good for your health. I was ready to bet all the money Layen had in her pack that those lads wouldn’t be able to pick up their bones.

  Midge, having seen what became of their enemies, once again began a catalog of all the curses he knew. For the third time that day. I didn’t know what his words conveyed more—fear or admiration. And then there was Whip, who tossed his head as if thunderstruck, and said approvingly, if far too loudly, “They flew beautifully, the bastards.”

  “They sure know how when they want to,” Bamut added. Then he giggled nervously.

  * * *

  The bloodcurdling wail rang out so suddenly that Luk, who was not expecting anything of the kind, nearly jumped out of his own skin. It seemed to him that he was hearing the warbling of a kirlee (a spirit, most commonly encountered in ancient ruins. According to popular belief, those who hear its song will soon die). The soldier pressed close to the window. Something black fell out of the sky on the opposite shore of the river and hit the ground with a dull, repulsive thud.

  “Wow!” was all that Ga-Nor had to say.

  The deformed, bloody thing had been a living man not all that long ago. Judging by the fragments of clothing, it was a Nabatorian soldier. Before the guard had a chance to say anything, the sky sent down yet another victim. A cart, loaded to the brim with sacks of flour, was hit by the terrible blow of a horse’s heavy body and was smashed to pieces. Flour dust whirled up into the air.

  The people working at the mill darted away in all directions, shrieking in horror. The archers who were standing not far off, on the other hand, rushed to the site of the incident.

  “Hide!” The tracker sprung back from their vantage point and the soldier followed his lead.

  They listened in as the Nabatorians chattered loudly and fearfully.

  “I told you that the White was deranged. First he went and destroyed a house, and now he’s attacking his own. You mark my words, before an hour has passed, he’ll upend the whole town.”

  “I can hardly wait. It will be much easier to disappear in the chaos.”

  “Fleeing an addled sorcerer isn’t that simple,” objected Luk. “He can send this little mill and us in it to Morassia with a wave of his hand. Oh! We’re done for!”

  * * *

  When the Nabatorians beheld Tia, sloppily dressed and pale with rage, they jumped up from their tables.

  “Nai,” wheezed the Damned. “Get all your men to the eastern half of the village immediately. Seal off the streets. Detain everyone. At the slightest resistance—kill them. But leave the women alone. Take them alive. Alive! I hope that’s clear? Go!”

  “All my men are at the building site, my lady! I need ti—”

  “I don’t care how you do it,” Typhoid interrupted him.

  The captain and his men rushed to carry out her orders without further dispute.

  “My lady, is it something serious?�
��

  “Bring your men, Gry. I have pressing business.”

  She tore out of the inn at a run and looked around.

  “Sha-kho!”

  The Shay-za’n floated over to her and stared at her without blinking, the phosphorescent pits of its violet eyes intense. The Damned showed him the street by drawing a map to it right in the air.

  “Go to this place with your brother and apprehend the people there. Don’t you dare harm the woman!”

  His feather-crowned head lowered in an affirmative bow. Both Burnt Souls floated off in obedience to her command. Tia watched them go and then turned back to the guards waiting for her.

  * * *

  Whip’s advice that we get off the street as quickly as possible was sound and Layen decided to take it. She jabbed the staff at the nearest gates, and they flew apart into splinters. Our companions had already become accustomed to such things, so they weren’t surprised. Midge, for example, didn’t even swear.

  Our neighbors were cowering in their homes, so no one came out to meet us. A watchdog, who had long ago sniffed out that something bad was going on in the neighborhood, was in no hurry to crawl out of its doghouse and greet uninvited guests with barking. All the better. We had no time to fight off dogs.

  The path we took resembled an obstacle course. We stole through yards and vegetable patches, climbed over fences, walked along the roofs of sheds and henhouses. When a barrier seemed insurmountable, or when it would require too much effort, Layen used her Gift, punching wide swaths through the peasants’ buildings. No one dashed out to stop us. The terrified inhabitants did not stick their noses outside. There were also no Nabatorians to be seen at the moment, and that suited me just fine.

  Whip and Shen were walking in front, Layen was right behind them, followed by Bamut and I, and Midge was manning the rear. I must confess, having the runt at my back for so long was making me nervous. Over and over the image of the necromancer’s slit throat rose before my eyes. I wasn’t sure if he would guard my back or take me out. I calmed myself only with the thought that as long as Midge and I were on the same team, he wouldn’t think of settling old scores.

  We walked briskly, lingering as little as possible, and I began to hope that we would succeed in escaping this predicament. The only thing that really worried me was Layen. Regardless of the fact that her eyes continued to glow with the feverish fires of magic, she was clearly weakening. Her skin had become deadly pale, her cheekbones had sharpened, her hair was dull and wet with sweat, clinging to her temples. The refractory staff of the sorcerer was draining her life force.

  “Isn’t it about time to get rid of that?” I asked my wife when we were cutting across old Roza’s turnip patch.

  “Not yet,” she replied reluctantly, barely moving her lips. “We still need the khilss.”

  “I really hope you know what you’re doing,” I grumbled petulantly.

  “Just stand by me.”

  I nodded. Of course I would.

  From somewhere to the right, beyond the fences, we heard shouts. They were looking for us. For the time being they didn’t have enough brains to check the yards and were prowling about the streets, but that wouldn’t last for long. Even if the soldiers were that stupid, the officers were not. They would definitely begin to comb the yards, and if they had enough men, they’d simply cordon off the village. Time was working against us. Speed was the most important thing. If we managed to break free while the Nabatorians were running around open-mouthed and wide-eyed, everything would work out just fine. We had to go with the flow, in a figurative sense, but I wasn’t sure we’d ever reach the shore. We might just all sink to the bottom together.

  Speaking of which, we were nearly to the river. Right then we were not very far from the bridge. All that remained was to run around a barn, make it through the gate that led to the neighboring yard, and from there out onto the street. It was risky, of course, but there was no other way.

  Near the barn, Whip stepped in a cow pie, swore crossly, then drew up even with Shen and continued walking beside him. Old Roza began calling curses down upon us from behind her closed door. We were trampling her vegetable patch. The flimsy gate was boarded over in such a way that it was obvious the hag was trying to protect her yard from the half-wit, Pork, who lived next door. As I heard it, he was a big fan of creeping over here where no one wanted him.

  “Whip, let me,” said Layen.

  But he didn’t obey. With a single kick of his foot, he ripped the gate from its hinges and then fell with a split skull from the blow of a Nabatorian soldier. Shen leaped back and to the left, my sun cried out and I fired quickly. Another two soldiers replaced the dead one. And then the entire world collapsed into the pandemonium of battle.

  I heard Bamut’s crossbow twanging dryly near my ear. I ripped my axe from my belt and threw it at the last assailant. But then four more surrounded us, appearing as if they’d risen up from the ground. Shen and Midge came to grips with them; the sound of steel on steel rang out. While they were trying to get rid of their opponents, Layen jabbed the staff into the face of the soldier nearest to her. The skull instantly bit off half his face. The man, forsaking all else on this earth, crumpled to the ground, wailing and spurting blood, pressing both hands to the terrible wound.

  The last unoccupied Nabatorian tried to get around me on the right, but when he caught sight of the bloodthirsty khilss in my wife’s hands, he froze. That’s what killed him. Bamut wasted no time and plunged his dagger into his stomach.

  “Shen, look out!” shouted Layen.

  The healer, who had expertly repelled the attack, retreated to the line of “magical defense.”

  The little skull wailed and the enemy was blasted away together with the gates, which were reduced to splinters. Midge had already taken care of his own troubles and was dispatching the soldier whose face had been bitten off.

  “The darkness take me! What were they doing here?” asked Bamut as he stared at Whip’s body bitterly.

  “They were waiting for us,” Shen replied, breathing heavily.

  “Don’t talk nonsense.” I pulled my axe from a corpse, wiped the blade on its clothes, and put it back in my belt. “Look at that pair, they’re practically in their underwear, even if they are well armed. They’re spread out among the houses. They have to live somewhere while the barracks are under construction. We just chanced upon them.”

  “It was Whip who chanced upon them. Why did he go forward? Layen told him.… How many years has he managed to get off scot-free, but here, some young pup takes him down. The fool…”

  With ashen lips, Bamut whispered a hasty prayer. It really was too bad about Whip. He wasn’t the worst man, and he knew how to keep these jackals of his under control. But now I could only guess when they’d snap.

  “You can’t bring him back. Bamut, reload your weapon,” said Layen as she crossed the yard with swift steps.

  A drunken face peered out of the house. It was Pork’s papa, as I live and breathe.

  “Heeey, now … whas you doin, eh?”

  “Beat it!” commanded Midge, and the man vanished like the wind.

  There was no one on the street. We quickly crossed it and, pressing close to the fencing, rushed toward the river. On the other side, by the mill, people were bustling about.

  “There’s archers over there!” Shen shouted to me in warning.

  “I’ll attend to them,” volunteered Layen.

  Over the past several minutes she had grown even more haggard and pale. Her skin seemed transparent and waxy, formidable dark blue circles had appeared under her eyes, and her hair looked like it was melting away. I could take care of these clods before they had time to aim properly. There’s no need to play with Death, when you can do it all with conventional weapons. The archers, who had their backs turned to us, did not present the most difficult of targets.

  I barely aimed. The wind was blowing away from me, my target was standing still so I did not need to offset my aim, and even
an infant could work out the trajectory. And a distance of a hundred and fifty yards was no distance at all for this bow. At the very moment when the first arrow hit its target dead on, its sister was already flying away from my bowstring.

  * * *

  “They really got them!” was all that Ga-Nor said when the Nabatorians were shot down.

  “Where did they shoot from?”

  “From the other bank. No, to the left!”

  Only now could the northerner’s companion make out the shapes of four men and a woman. One of the newcomers, a towheaded man, was frozen in the middle of the street. His weapon was still raised and his right hand was drawn back toward his ear. He’d just finished shooting and was apparently admiring his handiwork. Well, he had a reason to be proud. He’d killed the two archers in the space of a breath.

  “I would really like to know who those people are.”

  “What does it matter, if they save us the trouble?” said Ga-Nor, shrugging.

  “They could be our allies. Let’s make ourselves known to them!”

  “You see two corpses, and just like that you lose the last of your brains,” the tracker commented warmly. “Where’s your caution? Think with your head. I doubt if we show ourselves to them that we’ll be greeted with open arms.”

  “I didn’t really think of that.” Luk was rattled.

  “Why is it that you dare to call my people numbskulls?”

  “I never called you that!” objected the guard indignantly; then he changed the subject. “Let’s get a better look at what they decide to do next.”

  * * *

  This girl was the most beautiful in the world. Yes. Far more beautiful than the village maidens, who, when they see her, will burst with envy and chew on their own braids. There had never been such a maid in Dog Green. Even his best friend, Captain Nai, obeyed her. And the magician was also her friend.

  Really soon, Pork would become a knight and then the maid would love him. And he would save her from all sorts of bandits and dragons. Just so she wouldn’t get bored. And if anyone spoke meanly to the beauty, he would teach him a lesson and force him to ask forgiveness from his lady love on bended knee.