by Crissy Moss
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black shape flit through the grass, coming closer. It struck before I knew what was happening, black shadow and sinewy leather creaking as it shot at me like a blur, wrapping around my legs and tripping me. Before I could get a closer look, it was away again, dodging into the grass and disappearing. It slithered to my right then quickly circled to my left. Stalking me.
I put a hand to the ground, clasping the knife in my other, and tried to push up to a crouch. The blur of shadow darted out from the grass again, wrapping leathery appendages around my wrist and yanking. I fell, dirt and grass getting into my mouth as it darted back into the grass.
“What do you want with me!” I screamed.
There was no answer, just the murmur of shadow through grass.
Cursing, I rolled over and pushed up with both hands to get to my hands and knees. There I sat, knife at the ready, waiting for whatever it was to attack me again.
Was it playing with me like a cat playing with a mouse before they dined? I didn’t want to find out.
“Whatever you are,” I said through gritted teeth, “I’m done playing games.”
I jumped to my feet then leaped straight up, my feet leaving the ground. As expected, the creature came out of the grass, dodging out to wrap around my feet, but my feet weren’t there.
I landed on top of it, and it cried out with a shrill whine, piercing my ears. My hands wrapped around black skin that writhed and twitched in my hand. Horns jutted out from the head, a mouth opening wide to display rows of razor-sharp teeth.
“What are you doing?” someone shrieked from the grass.
My head snapped around to find the sound, my hands gripping the demon creature tighter. A young girl popped up out of the grass, her blonde tresses the same honey color as the fields around us and her clothing a light brown. She blended in perfectly with the landscape.
She rushed forward, her chubby cheeks turning a brilliant red as she looked down at the crying creature at my feet. She cooed at it as she gently extracted it from my hands, picking it up and cradling it to her chest.
“It’s okay, Yunta, I won’t let the nasty woman hurt you again.”
“Who the hells are you?” I cried, getting back to my feet, but the girl ignored me as she walked off into the grass, the monster cradled close to her chest.
I hesitated, looking back toward the mountains for a moment, then after the young girl. I didn’t really have a choice. I was lost, and she was the first person I’d encountered, even if she was mad. If I followed her, at least there was the chance that she would lead me to civilization.
I scurried after her as quickly as I could, keenly aware that if I lost sight of her even briefly she’d disappear back into the grass. Her head kept bobbing up over the grasses, and she’d look over her shoulder to glare at me.
I was dimly aware that we were getting farther and farther from the mountains, and I was steadily losing track of my way back to Brefalls. But it didn’t matter anymore. I’d let go of that life and I was ready to find another, and this girl—whoever or whatever she was—was my ticket to that new life.
Caravan
“Go away! You don’t belong here. Stop following me.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where I am,” I yelled. The little girl didn’t seem to care what I did with myself. She clung to the demon in her arms, cooing at the creature as she stormed away from me.
“And where’s the nearest settlement?” I continued. “I think I deserve that much after your demon tried to eat me.”
“He wasn’t trying to eat you,” the girl said, hugging the creature closer. “He doesn’t eat people. He was just playing with you, and you attacked him. I want nothing to do with you. You can rot on the plain for all I care.”
“What is going on out here?” asked a very gruff yet feminine voice.
I quickly turned to my right, and the source of the new voice. A girl dressed in soft green leathers, a hood pulled up over her head, had emerged from the north and was walking toward us. At least I thought it was the north. The sun was directly overhead, and the way the little girl had been weaving back and forth in the grass I wasn’t entirely sure I knew where I was. I couldn't even see the mountains any longer, which worried me a little. Eventually, the sun would set and I could get my bearings again, but until then I had nothing to go on.
“Ayrula, help. She tried to kill Yunta! She singed him with fire, and he was crying and everything!”
“What are you going on about? Fire?” Ayrula asked.
“She used fire on Yunta! Can’t you see!” The girl was screaming and stamping her feet on the ground, the little demon being rocked back and forth violently. It scrambled against her, trying to pry its way from the girl's grasp but unable to do so.
“Settle down, Orin. You’re going to hurt Yunta,” the older girl said. “And after all the trouble we went to getting him.”
Orin sniffled, holding the demon closer to her chest and glaring at me from beneath her bangs. She stuck her tongue out at me then turned on her pert little foot and stalked away through the grass.
“I’m sorry about that,” Ayrula said. She held out a hand. “I’m Ayrula.”
“I’m Sybel,” I said, grasping her forearm. “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble, but the demon attacked me.”
“They aren’t demons; they’re ifrits.”
“They?” I whispered. There were more of them out here on the plains? And if these creatures existed, why hadn’t I heard of them?
“Ifrits are the servants of the servitors,” Ayrula said. She held up her pinkie, where a shiny brass ring sat on her finger as if that were explanation enough. She had one on each pinky, each with odd letters carved into their surface.
I decided not to purse that further, at the moment. I had already offended the younger girl, and possibly burned her pet. I didn’t need trouble with Ayrula, too, especially when she seemed far more reasonable.
Ayrula seemed to think I understood and let it go, as well. She turned and started walking in the same direction Orin had disappeared, motioning for me to follow. I didn’t hesitate to do so.
“What are you doing out here in the grasslands?” Ayrula asked.
“I’m trying to reach Kemoor,” I said. “I’ve never been on this side of the mountain, so I was a bit…”
“Lost?”
“Yes,” I agreed, though it pained me to admit it. “I have been looking for some settlement, or a river to follow. Then something started stalking me, and a black…ifrit? It came out of the grass and tripped me up. I defended myself from that little demon. Then Orin came out screaming about hurting it. I’m sorry if I hurt it, but she shouldn’t let it stalk people like that.”
“I see,” Ayrula said. “And you’ve been following Orin since?”
“I had nowhere else to go. She’s the only other person I’ve seen since I left my village.”
“Why didn’t you cross with a caravan? It would have been safer.”
“My village is in a secluded place, high up in the mountains. We don’t have caravans, only ships. I couldn’t afford a ship, so I crossed the mountain pass.”
“I see. Did you run away from home?”
“Not exactly,” I said, looking away. I had come to terms with what had happened, but I wasn’t about to share it with strangers. I was going to Kemoor to start a new life, after all. There was no point in sharing the past with anyone this side of the mountain range. It wouldn’t matter here.
“I see,” Ayrula said, allowing me my privacy. “You said you were headed to Kemoor. Are you going to train as a wizard?”
Too late, I realized my mistake. My village had thrown me out, discarded me for being different. What would this girl, who I had only just met, do to me?
Ayrula must have seen the fear and panic washing over me because she suddenly stopped and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Sybel. Out here, wizards aren’t treated poorly. Especially
by my people. You’ll find friends among the plainsmen.”
She held on to my arm for a moment longer, giving me a reassuring smile.
Hesitantly, I smiled back. She squeezed my arm gently then turned and walked deeper into the copse of trees. I quickly moved to keep up with her.
There were several copses of trees scattered around the hilly region. I could still see the mountains to the west, though we had moved away from them, but not much farther. I took comfort in the sight of the mountains even as I knew I would soon lose sight of them. Home lay beyond that ridge, along with everything I once knew. As long as I could see the mountains, I could find my way back.
Not that it would do me much good to go back.
To the east, hidden among one small stand of trees, sat a squat wagon with a light green canopy. It blended into the grasslands, and if Orin hadn’t been making a beeline for it I might have missed it entirely. Even when following Ayrula I hadn’t known it was right in front of me because I’d been paying too much attention to her, to keep from losing her, and not my surroundings.
“You’re part of a caravan?” I asked Ayrula.
She smiled over her shoulder, her black tresses swaying in the light spring breeze. “I’m the lead guard on this caravan run. It’s my first assignment.”
“You?” I asked, mystified.
Ayrula couldn’t have been much older than I was. She still had the round cheeks and soft skin of youth, and her demeanor was far more cheerful than I would have expected a guard on a caravan to be. Then again, I only had stories to go on. Swarthy men dressed in rustic clothing with swords bristling from every angle. Not young girls with nothing more than daggers at their sides.
But as I looked at her I noticed other details. She moved with purpose, each step strong and sure. She always seemed to be looking around, watching and waiting for something. And her hands were rough and callused, her body muscular and strong rather than soft like a handmaid’s.
“I’m a servitor, like Orin. What were you expecting? A gruff-looking man with a sword?”
That word again. It appeared there was more significance to it than I thought.
“What’s a servitor?”
Ayrula’s mouth dropped open in a cute O. “How far have you traveled? You’ve never heard of a servitor?”
“This is the first time I’ve been beyond the mountains,” I admitted even though it felt wrong to. This was a girl who had traveled extensively and knew more about the outside world than I had ever dreamed of. A captain of the guard on a caravan, and I was a lowly farm girl who didn’t seem to know the right side of a teacup.
How had I come to this so quickly? I thought I would fit in at least with the locals until I reached Kemoor, but it seemed that magic wasn’t the only thing that made me an outsider.
“A servitor is a master of an ifrit, like Orin’s,” she said, again holding up her pinkie with the shiny brass ring.
“That ring? That marks you as a servitor?”
“Something like that,” she said. “Our servants, the ifrits, do our bidding.”
We were almost upon the caravan, and I could see Orin jumping up and down, the tiny ifrit at her side. A large man with a bulbous nose was leaning down to listen to her. I couldn’t imagine the ifrit being much of a servant.
“How does a tiny ifrit help you guard a caravan?” I wondered out loud then blushed. For the second time, I had questioned this girl's authority without knowing anything about her or the world she came from.
Ayrula laughed, whether at my audacity or my bashfulness I’m not sure.
“Ifrits are unusual creatures,” she said. “They often change as the servitor does. Right now, Orin is young, and her servant reflects her desires. They will train together, learn to fight, just as I did with Usla. As Orin gets older, her ifrit might change as well. Even so, a small ifrit that looks young is still deadlier than anything else in this world.”
Ayrula said she had an ifrit as well. I wondered about it. Was it large and deadly enough that she was able to secure a position as the caravan guard? I decided I wasn’t ready to face a towering ifrit that could deter would-be thieves and paid a bit more attention to the caravan before us. One thing at a time, like figuring out if I could even travel with the caravan.
But it did make me wonder how many more of those things were out there, and if that might be a problem in the future. Ayrula seemed to be nice enough, but if there were others like Orin out there I would need to learn more about them so that I could protect myself.
There were six wagons under the trees, all with the same coloring and structure. It would make them difficult to see amid the foliage unless you knew what you were looking for.
At their center lay a campfire where three young men were sitting and eating and a young woman sat twitching the knobs of her lute, occasionally plucking a string and frowning.
Orin was animatedly pointing at me in stiff, jerky movements, her face covered in tears.
“You’ll have to forgive my sister,” Ayrula said. “This is her first time outside Mother’s house, and she’s used to getting her way. I’ve been trying to break her of that, but it’s been difficult.”
“She’s your sister?”
I never would have guessed. The younger of the two had silvery-blonde hair and pale coloring while Ayrula had a dark tan and jet-black plaits. It went beyond their coloring though, to the style and cut of their clothing and the way they spoke and carried themselves. I never would have guessed them to be related.
“It’s complicated,” Ayrula said.
“But she burned Yunta!” I heard Orin scream now that we’d gotten close enough. “You can’t just let her get away with that. She has to be punished.”
“Now then, hold up a moment, Orin,” the man said in a deep and calming voice. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t punish her, just that I needed all sides of the story before I pass judgment. You wouldn’t want me to punish you before I listened to what you had to say, would you?”
Orin shied at that for a moment, but it was short-lived. “She’s a stranger! You can’t believe her over me.”
“And Ayrula is your sister. I can believe her.”
Orin crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at me as we entered the shelter of the trees.
“Now then, Ayrula, tell me everything,” the man said.
“Edwum, this is Sybel. She’s making her way to Kemoor. I think we should allow her to ride with the caravan for her own safety.”
“You want her to ride with us!” Orin shouted. “How could you? She burned Yunta! She’s dangerous. You can’t let someone who attacked me stay in the caravan.”
“She wouldn’t have burned Yunta if you hadn’t been teaching him to stalk her. This is not how you treat people lost and alone on the plains, Orin, and I won’t stand for it. Mother put you in my charge, and I will see to it that you, not Sybel, are punished for your actions.”
Orin’s mouth dropped open, tears springing from her eyes, and a wail the likes of which I had never heard shattered the peace of the grasslands.
Edwum looked abashed, his eyes going from one sister to the other. I couldn’t tell if he was upset over the crying child or didn’t want to interfere in a family's affairs. Either way, I felt sorry for the man. He clearly had some important role in the caravan as Orin had gone to him for help, and our altercation wasn’t helping.
“I’m sorry,” I said, stepping toward Edwum. “I didn’t know what to do. I have been on my own for weeks, and when the ifrit came at me I was scared. I’ve never seen an ifrit before, but I didn’t mean to hurt it.”
Edwum’s face lit up in a bright smile, and he turned away from Orin, taking me by the hand. “No trouble at all. I think we’ve all had that initial scare when we first encounter the ifrits. I’m sure that Orin will learn from this experience, as well, and perhaps treat her servant with a little more care.”
I didn’t understand half the things he spoke about. Ifrits and servants, children with demon pe
ts. None of it made sense. But a child acting out because she wasn’t getting what she wanted? That I understood.
I followed Edwum as he turned away from Orin and walked toward the small campfire. We ignored Orin’s huffing and puffing, letting her sister deal with the younger girl. Orin held her glare on me until I saw Ayrula smack her on the top of the head.
“Now tell me, Sybel, what takes you to Kemoor?” Edwum asked.
I hesitated. Ayrula didn’t seem to mind magic users, but that didn’t mean everyone was as accepting as she appeared to be. The fact that I was a bastard, and my entire village had cast me out, didn’t seem entirely useful information either.
And some things, like being able to stand in a fire pit without the slightest bit of damage, seemed better to keep to myself.
“I want to train in the ways of magic,” I said.
“Then that is a good place for you to go,” he agreed, smiling. I saw no judgment in his eyes, just curiosity and encouragement. “I’ve taken a few young men and women to the gates of Kemoor before. All of them seeking answers to things that we common folk would rather leave alone. It is better as the domain of dragons and kin. But you’re welcome to travel with us. We’ve reached the half point of this circuit and should reach Kemoor in two months’ time.”
“Two months? Are we really so far from there?”
“As the crow flies, we’re probably a fortnight away. But I have no wings, as you see,” he said, holding out his arms. “And I make no money by traveling such a way. Of course, you could go through the grasslands on foot and you might reach Kemoor in a single month, but I wouldn’t suggest it unless you’re versed in traveling by the stars.”
“Traveling by the stars?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “So few know the way of the stars. I’m not surprised you haven’t learned of it. But that is not important. What is important is that you are safe and sound. The fires are warm, and the company is unruly. What more can life offer? Stay with us, Sybel. I’ll see you to Kemoor and send you off to the mages as quickly as I can.”
