by Jenny McKane
Skyresh nodded. “We seek to destroy the witch and break the spells. We have been told that is the reason for all these strange new creatures in the Outer Limits. They are dangerous – and not just for the obvious reason.” He took a deep breath. “We believe that the Jarle are creating an army of them. As soon as they have stabilized them, they will take them to Agnoria, and they will control the population.”
Aysus was silent, staring at the fortress of gold. He seemed to be meditating. Eventually, he turned back to the others.
“It will not be easy,” he said slowly. “The Tower is well defended, and even if you managed to breach its defenses, there is still the Black Witch within. Her power is mighty. Mere swords alone will not defeat her.”
“Do you think there is any chance?” asked Everard, frowning. “Or are we all about to die?”
Aysus smiled wryly. “We are all going to die someday,” he said. “The Goddess alone decides our fate. But to answer your question, I think that the risk is very high. Unless…”
“Unless what?” Skyresh prodded.
“You have a secret weapon that you have not told me about.” Aysus turned and stared at Avalon. “Someone who can match the power of the witch.”
Avalon’s heart started to beat faster. Should she reveal who she was?
“We have a few tricks up our sleeve,” said Skyresh evasively.
Avalon breathed a sigh of relief. So, he had decided not to reveal her true identity. She didn’t know why she was so relieved. It hardly made any difference after all. She had no proof that she was a queen of Masgata, and no army behind her to command. Aysus would probably not believe it anyway.
Aysus continued to stare at her. She thought he suspected something, but it was probably within his best interest not to know. They had already revealed a lot to him; if they were all caught and interrogated that knowledge now lay like a burden upon the Storyteller.
Skyresh sighed. “We do not want to involve you too much, Aysus,” he said, as if reading her mind. “All that we require is that you lead us to The Tower, and then you should turn around and leave us to what we must do.”
“I understand,” said Aysus. “I will do as you ask. I sense that you are all working for the good of the Stromel.” He paused. “As I said, I knew there was more to it. I would not have volunteered otherwise. I also desire the return of Masgata, when the warrior queens ruled the realm.”
“I knew that you were an ally,” said Skyresh. “But, you must realize that you are a part of it now. Not all of it, but enough to put you at risk. Do you accept that risk?”
Aysus nodded. “I do,” he said.
“Then it is so,” said Skyresh, turning away from the sight of the gold fortress. “Come, we should continue. I have gazed long enough upon this golden monstrosity. The bones of many of my people are probably lying in the foundations.”
***
That night, Aysus volunteered for first watch again.
Everard was asleep already, curled up tightly in his sleeping roll. Avalon felt her eyes beginning to droop; she would soon have to sleep as well. She touched her shoulder lightly. There was no pain anymore. When she had looked at it this morning, she could barely see a mark on her skin. She had never known such a bad wound to heal so quickly.
Skyresh was sitting next to her, gazing up at the sky.
“I have doubts, Skyresh,” she whispered suddenly.
He turned and gazed at her. “I know that you do,” he said quietly. “I can feel your uneasiness. I will watch Aysus. I believe that he is trustworthy, but I will not let my guard down.”
Avalon sighed. “I don’t know why I feel this way,” she said softly. “I understand that he has not done anything to make me suspect his motives. He has been nothing but generous and helpful to us.”
“And yet you still feel it,” said Skyresh.
“Yes,” she whispered. “There are things about him that I don’t understand. He has power that he is not admitting to. The way that he spoke to the guardians. The way that he has healed my wound so quickly. And then, I watched the wagon and the other performers disappear before my very eyes.”
Skyresh frowned. “Do you think it was magic?”
Avalon shrugged helplessly. “One minute they were there, and the next, a cloud of sand blew up and they were gone! I know that this desert is a strange place and full of magic, but how can that have happened?”
Skyresh pondered her question. “I do not know. If he is a magician, I wonder why he would not have said so. Perhaps he thinks that we do not need to know.” He sat up straighter. “That could be it, Avalon. The Goddess might have sent him to us, and he will help us to defeat the witch if he has powers.”
“Maybe,” said Avalon. “Or he could be leading us somewhere else.”
Skyresh’s face darkened. “That will not happen,” he said. “I promise you. I will remain alert, but do not worry too much. My instinct is that Aysus is an ally.”
Avalon stared at the Storyteller, standing in the distance. His white robe was billowing in the night air.
“I think that he doesn’t sleep,” she whispered, frowning.
Skyresh raised an eyebrow. “He has a lot of energy for such an old man,” he said slowly. “But that does not mean he never rests. The only way that you would know that is if you were watching over him constantly as he lay in his sleeping roll, Avalon. And none of us can do that.”
Avalon nodded. “Yes, I am probably being fanciful,” she said. “It has already been such a hard journey and so much is yet to come.” She stood up. “I will retire. Just promise me that you will think about what I have said and watch him, Skyresh.”
Skyresh nodded. “Of course I will. I have already said so. Sleep well, Avalon. Try to not let it consume your thoughts. We will make it to our destination, and we will succeed.”
Avalon crawled into her sleeping roll. There was little she could do about it. Aysus was a part of their journey, now, for better or worse. They would just all have to be a little more vigilant.
***
Skyresh stooped, collecting berries from the bush. They were just about to set out for the day, and he wanted to have some extra food so that they could push a bit further. They had lost so much time already.
He watched Aysus approaching him. The old man was sprightly, almost leaping through the sand towards him. He remembered what Avalon had said about her belief that the old man never slept. He smiled to himself. It seemed farfetched. He was more concerned with the way that this worry about Aysus was affecting Avalon’s spirits.
“Those berries are good,” the old man said, as he drew nearer. “I once travelled this desert by myself and almost ran out of food. It was finding this bush that saved me.”
Skyresh nodded. “I am grateful that you showed me it,” he said. “They look like berries that are poisonous in the Far North, so I would not have picked them myself. You have helped us so much already, Aysus.”
The old man inclined his head. “I try,” he said. “What is the purpose of having all this knowledge, if not to share it? And your journey is worthwhile. Even more worthwhile than I first suspected.”
Skyresh straightened, putting the berries he had picked into his pouch. “You always knew there was more to it than we said, didn’t you?”
“I did,” said the old man. “I have lived a long time, and I can read people very well.” He paused, studying Skyresh. “I know that you are a leader, amongst your people. I can sense that you are greatly revered among them.”
Skyresh looked at the ground. “My people mean everything to me,” he said softly. “It pains me to be away from them and not able to defend them.”
“But not all among your group share your passion,” said Aysus slowly. “Everard. He is like a slow poison, who will bring you all down, if you are not careful.”
Skyresh’s face darkened. “Avalon is very fond of him.”
“Yes,” said Aysus. “I have seen them together. I believe that they are lovers, S
kyresh.”
Skyresh felt his fists tightening. “He loves her, I know,” he said through gritted teeth. “But Avalon has never said that she feels the same way about him.”
“No?” Aysus stared him in the face. “You tolerate him because you think it would cause her pain to let him go, and yet they laugh at you behind your back. They will end up together, after all this is over, and leave you behind.”
Skyresh shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”
Aysus sighed. “I am only telling you what you already know,” he said slowly. “You know that Everard is not trustworthy. He makes this journey just to please her. He would have let you die underneath that sand if she hadn’t come along.”
Skyresh’s eyes widened. “How do you know about that?”
“We were watching you,” Aysus said. “For days. That is how I know about what is between Everard and Avalon, as well. They were both brought up in privilege, Skyresh. Like attracts like. Why would a woman like Avalon consider a man such as yourself, who was born in the lowliest of huts in the Far North?”
Skyresh turned away. He had wondered that himself, many times. It was one of the reasons he had not declared himself to her. He remembered how she had looked at him when he had first captured her in the Far North. Like something she had just scrapped off the bottom of her shoe. But how did the old man know that?
And why wouldn’t Avalon have told him if she did return Everard’s love and wanted to be with him? Why would she have led him to hope, that perhaps one day, when they could settle down and Masgata was restored, that there might be a chance of something between them?
And now she had learned that she was a queen. A queen wouldn’t want a man who had been born in a hut by her side. She would want a man who knew how to comfortably rule alongside her. A man who had been born into privilege. A man like Everard.
He had never wanted him to come along. He knew that Everard was going to leave him in the sand and that he would have told Avalon that he never saw or heard him. The only reason he had not killed him for it was because of her. Hatred twisted his heart. And she was in love with this traitor, was she?
As he battled these dark thoughts, he did not see Aysus turn away from him. He did not see the smile of satisfaction that had spread over the old man’s face. He did not see anything, except the vision of Avalon and Everard, side by side.
***
Avalon stirred the soup that she had made from a few vegetables that they had gathered along the way. They had made good time today and had set up camp for the night a bit earlier than usual. She thought that she should try to cook something. They had only eaten berries as they travelled, and she thought that a meal would be welcome.
She passed the bowls out. “I hope it is alright,” she said. “I am not the greatest cook in the world.”
Everard took a sip. “It is lovely,” he said. “Full of flavor.”
Avalon turned to Skyresh. “What do you think?” She smiled at him.
He shrugged, not looking at her.
Avalon frowned. He had been like this all day. Every time that she had tried to talk to him, he had walked away from her. What was troubling him?
Well, there was little she could find out in front of the others. She turned to Aysus, who held his bowl in front of him. “Eat,” she urged. “I am not the greatest cook, as I said, but it should not poison you.”
Aysus smiled. He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl. “It looks good, Avalon.”
They ate in silence. Avalon looked up at Aysus again. Even though he had dipped the spoon into the bowl, he had not eaten any of it. She stared down at her soup but watched him covertly. He did not take one mouthful.
When the meal was over, she started gathering the bowls. Aysus had wondered off, saying that he would dig for some water. She picked up his bowl. It was empty – completely scrapped clean, and yet she had not seen him take one mouthful of it. She glanced down at the ground around where he had sat. It did not appear that he had tipped it out.
Uneasiness spread through her again. She frowned, trying to recall if she had ever seen him eat. He always took food that was offered to him, but now that she thought about it, she had never seen him put any of it into his mouth.
How could that be? It wasn’t possible. She had told Skyresh that she thought that the old man never slept. Skyresh had laughed at her, and now it seemed that he didn’t eat either, and yet he had the energy of a young child. She had seen him today, sprinting across the sand towards a bush he had just seen while the rest of them trudged through it.
Should she voice her concerns with Skyresh? She turned to him, but he didn’t return her gaze. Instead, he got up and walked away.
She gazed after him, troubled. Perhaps Skyresh was just in a bad mood. They were constantly together, after all. Perhaps he just wanted some space.
Everard had wondered off, as well. She saw him approach Aysus. The old man turned to him, smiling. And then they walked off together.
Avalon stifled another pang of misgiving. What were they doing?
***
“You are very well trained,” Aysus said, as he walked alongside Everard. “Of everyone in this group, you are the one that I would turn to if I needed help.”
Everard stared at the old man. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “It is nice to be appreciated.”
Aysus smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Everyone needs to feel appreciated. I can tell that you don’t get to feel that way often in this group, do you? Avalon and Skyresh are always together, making decisions without consulting you.”
Everard looked down at the ground. “Avalon appreciates me.”
Aysus’s smile widened. “Does she? Or does she just need you to tag along to feed her ego? I see that you love her, Everard. And yet, she spurns you, in favor of Skyresh.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know whether I could stand to the side, as you do, and watch the woman I love flirting with another man.”
Everard frowned. “She doesn’t flirt with him. She is friends with him.” But even as he said it, he had doubts. Was it true, what the old man said? Was Avalon just stringing him along, intending to discard him once this mission was over?
“Skyresh doesn’t trust you,” Aysus whispered. “And who can blame him after the sand storm?”
Everard swung around, staring at the Storyteller. His blood ran cold. How did he know about that?
“It’s alright, Everard,” the old man said, patting his hand. “Your secret is safe with me. I know your other secrets, too. About how you were not born into the life of privilege you led. You took a life to gain your own, didn’t you?”
Everard paled. His hands were shaking. How did this man know about it?
“What would Avalon think if she knew?” Aysus stared at him. “She already has doubts about you. That is what she and Skyresh talk about when they are together. They are lovers. You know that, don’t you?”
Everard fell to the ground, gasping. “No. It’s not true. Avalon told me that she doesn’t know how she feels, that she had to concentrate on the mission. I know that they are good friends…”
Aysus lay a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Everard,” he whispered. “I understand. But once this is all over, you don’t really think she will choose you, do you? A man with a troubled past? She will choose the great leader, whom the people love.” He straightened. “I can tell you are overcome, my dear friend. I will leave you to think about it.” He walked off, back to the camp.
Everard trembled. No, it wasn’t possible. He knew that Avalon and Skyresh were close, but to think of her with that arrogant upstart…he clenched his fists. He should have steered her away when she ran to him after the sand storm. He should have led her away from the log where Skyresh was buried beneath the sand. He would be gone now, and he would never have to worry about him again.
He watched her, walking around the camp, cleaning up. He had been willing to do anything for her. He loved her. And she was using him.
&nbs
p; He clenched his fists, again.
***
The moon was rising, high in the sky. The stars had already emerged, tiny twinkles of light. The wolf walked to the edge of the hill, staring down at the little camp.
She had been following them at a safe distance. It was not as if she could travel quickly anyway. Her leg still hurt and slowed her down. She stared at the tall, dark-haired man, who had caused it. She knew that he had only been trying to protect Avalon, but she was still wary of him. She sensed that he was not her friend—not yet anyway.
The other man with the blue eyes seemed troubled. He did not sit next to Avalon, as he had the previous nights. He was angry with her; Hansa could sense his anger coming in waves. She also knew what had caused that anger.
She watched the old man in the white robe. Sadness overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t stop a low howl emerging from her throat. If only she had been able to make the connection with Avalon, none of this would have happened. She would have protected them all. Now, all that she could do was trail them, watching from a distance.
Could she try still? If she sat on her front paws and closed her eyes, could she reach out to the woman? The bond was tenuous. She knew that Avalon had felt it—that was why she had defended her from the dark-haired man— but they could not yet talk to each other. Hansa was not able to warn her, and she knew better than to approach the camp again.
The wolf growled, low in her throat. Danger was all around. She could sense the creatures moving in the desert, drawing closer. They would have stalked the group anyway, but now they had a reason.
Their mistress was close. The one who ruled them. The one who had made them. Their blood was rising, and it would not settle…until a sacrifice had been made.
Chapter Ten
The sun had risen high in the sky, already heralding the heat of the day. Avalon hitched her bag onto her back, placing her hand over her eyes towards the desert. All she could see was red sand, spreading out in all directions.
