Dusk Falling (Book 1) (32 page)

Aya trailed. Hissing in pain as she bent a nail backwards on another stone obstacle, the girl was forced to admit she was not cut out for this. Cradling her hand, she waited for the pain to subside before starting again. For her especially, the going was slow; she had no great strength or height or claws.

Ambling ungainfully over one side, she slid on her rump down the other. Dusting her seat while trying to remain resolute, the mage gauged the next rock. The one in front was too high; she’d have to go around. It had to be a good six feet, the broken pieces beside it were only half as big.

Aya paused when she spied feet atop the formation. Glancing up, she saw Genlo. He had his thumbs hooked into the waist of his pants, his shirt bunched about his wrists. The Jrahda-trethen did not speak, he just
looked at her. His expression reminded her of her parents’ barncat when it had a rodent in its sight. “As least he’s not ‘looking death’ at me. Though I can’t exactly say this is any better.”, she thought.

Trying not to appear at all rodent-like, Aya moved over to a more accessible rock and slowly made her way up and over. She slipped once but caught herself before she could make an utter fool of herself.

Genlo stepped off his perch and was up on the next one as easily as if he were walking a flight of stairs.

The way was semi-cleared for several yards, allowing Aya to catch up a bit to her team from her lagging state. Stepping from rock to rock, gaining altitude, she saw her team roughly thirty paces in the distance. Serrtin was talking to SkyRift and judging by her animated hands, it had something to do with fighting. Or swords. The dragon nodded along with her words patiently. None had yet to realize just how far the mage was behind.

Aya made her way down then stepped by way of scar until she came to an alcove she had no hope of scaling. Sighing, she turned and made to backtrack out.

“It would be a lot quicker if you used a levitation spell.” Came a snide comment at her back.

She didn’t turn. “It wastes too much energy.”

“And doing it your way doesn’t?” He said ingratiatingly.

“If it bothers you so much, you could always give me a hand.” Aya responded, not really meaning it. She already knew he wouldn’t. Turning to look at him, she got the feeling he was remembering a similar situation not too long ago where she’d asked him for help. He’d refused then too.

She put her foot onto a toehold and grabbed the edge of a boulder. Bouncing on one foot to gain balance, she was about to make a grab when suddenly a hard leathered grip seized her wrist and hauled her up.

Up close, his eyes were like amber pendants but smooth to refract light. No, better. There was a myriad of reds and oranges, gold and-

Suddenly acutely aware of how close the girl stood to him, Genlo hastily departed. Continuing north, he tossed a glance her way, one that said clear as day he had no idea what to think. And maybe that spooked him all the more.

But at least he wasn’t ‘looking death’.

~ ~ ~

Eventually the land began to even itself out and the Mirskarr fell behind to their footsteps. The Province of Le’insurad came into view, proving their trek had had a westerly slant to it for Le’insurad did not lie straight north from their starting point.

“The city of Nalrut is the largest city in southern Le’insurad.” Agemeer supplied. “It is ringed on three sides by an impassable mountain range, the only entrance and exit from the city is through its forth side. But a city that size could offer the goods we need in with which to continue on with little question. It may be possible to blend in entirely…”

“With spies that are no doubt in full play, we’ll
need
to blend in.” Serrtin turned an appraising eye to Genlo.
In particular his clothing
. “Especially you.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “I’m not going anywhere near a human town.”

“Watch your mouth!” Serrtin instructed harshly. Lumping together the seven strains and naming them all under the term ‘human’ was an insult. Bren were one such strain. “I’m just glad the Votalo aren’t pickpockets- we still have coin.”

“They probably figured they could loot your corpses just as easily after you’re dead.”

“How nice.” Serrtin replied then grinned when an idea suddenly came over her. “We’ll need to be careful in avoiding any Circuit checkpoints but there’s one place I want to stop by. There is a town called Muln that is not far off from Nalrut. I used to use it as a start point before heading anywhere in Zarhethe. We can get everything we need there,
and…
”

“And?” Genlo prompted.

“An old friend lives there. He was part of my Hunter team before Aya. Left about, oh, three four months before then. He was badly injured and had to be let go. Took up shop in Muln. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“This isn’t the time to be visiting old friends…”

“Oh? So
now
you’re in a hurry? Dee Gatsin, that’s his name. He was a fantastic archer at one time but he’s a tailor now.”

“I fail to see how that’s important.” Genlo grumbled.

“
‘White? That’s a pretty conspicuous color to wear if you’re trying to hide.’
” The saurian quoted herself with an evil grin. Genlo glanced down at his clothing. “Boy, you sure are slow at catching on sometimes…”

~ ~ ~

The Jrahda-trethen turned an interesting shade of purplish-red and fought back fiercely. He flat refused to yield. Serrtin and he had words the entire way into the belly of Le’insurad’s lands. Aya and Agemeer wisely chose to stay out of the heated argument. SkyRift also remained quiet but wore an amused smile on his lips as he walked.

Suddenly, in the middle of a vicious tirade, Genlo came to a jarring halt. He put a shaking hand to his head, bowing over as if he might become sick.

“Genlo, what is it? Are you alright?” Aya said, reaching out a hand.

He shook off the gesture and straightened. “Let’s head up through the foothills and circle back.”

“But why? This is a straight shot to Muln from here, I’m sure of it. Going by way of the foothills will add a good two hours to an already overly-long trip.”

“Why is it you want to circle around?” Aya asked.

“Call it a hunch.”

“And we should listen to a hunch?” Serrtin said, unconvinced.

“My hunches are never wrong.” Genlo dropped his hand from his head.

SkyRift’s eyes were sharp though no one saw his expression as intent on Genlo as they were. He knew something he could not say and only hoped the saurian would listen to the trethen’s sense.

“Fine.” Serrtin gave in. SkyRift sighed in relief. They headed west into the foothills nearest the mountains that protected Nalrut. Their pace slowed for several miles before brooking west into one of many verdant forests that made up a good deal of Le’insurad’s countryside. SkyRift excused himself and took flight, intent on checking out this ‘hunch’ that Genlo had had. Upon returning and shifting back into Elven form, he confirmed the hunch was correct. “A dozen men, no less, were waiting on the north path. Judging by the disorganization of their camp, I think it is safe to assume they were posted there in case you were to pass by that way and that they are not presently aware of where you really are.”

“What did they look like? Were they Verca or Niredes Votalo?” Agemeer asked. “Or perhaps, Circuit sanctioned?”

“They wore the gray cloaks of the Verca. Their rivals do not have the numbers needed to leave ambush parties merely on an off-chance that you were to head by their way.” SkyRift said matter-of-factly.

“How did you know?” Serrtin asked Genlo.

The Jrahda-trethen ducked a low branch as he considered his answer. He opted for the safe way out. “I had a hunch, that’s all.”

“Hunches always give you vertigo?”

“What if it does?” He challenged, glancing at the Yarcka through strands of white.

Agemeer slowed his step to pace Genlo. “I once knew a woman who saw snatches of events that were to come. Her visions were erratic though and she never knew when one would come to her. Could your ‘hunches’ be the Sight?”

Genlo leapt up the embankment without answer, putting some distance between them.

“The Sight! What a wonderful gift she had.” Aya said, untangling her foot from the grasping clutch of weeds.

“Gift? It’s no gift. More like a curse.” Genlo said from up ahead, sensitive ears hearing the mage. “How would you like to see the death of your friend- the only person in the world you cared for- seconds before it happens and know no matter what you can do nothing?” It was an odd remark. Genlo did not realize it for two more steps just how odd it would sound. He slowed then stopped altogether. “It is something that could happen, that’s all.”

Muln was a town about equal in size to Barda, albeit more densely populated, mayhap almost nearly as much as Karm. Luckily there was no large body of water or river nearby so no gaudy overabundance of fishwares met the team upon entrance. It was fairly rustic for a Provincial township but Muln still held the seedy undertones that was commonplace in Zarhethe.

Most of the buildings were single story with wood or thatched roofs but there were a handful or so that boasted a second level- most likely Inns or Boarding establishments- and some of the outlying homes had roofs of thick straw, branding them the poorest section of town. Loose fowl ran unchecked down the dirt roads.

It was easy to spot the honest hardworking citizens who were the backbone of society in Muln. They were the ones who skulked with bent shoulders past hard eyed merc-types. Judging by how they were not trying to hide and the populace seemed to identify who they were, the team doubted these flinty men and women were associated with the Verca or Votalo but it didn’t mean they couldn’t be trouble. Or be bought for information.

Genlo balked.

“We’re going in and that’s final. Why do I feel like I’m talking to a child?” For added emphasis, Serrtin
growled out, “How would you like to get reacquainted with a length of rope?”

“Serrtin, we don’t-”

“Aya, this ingrate…” The Yarcka stuck a finger in the youth’s face. Forcibly, she made her volume as well as her hand drop. “You are going and if I hear another peep out of your underhanded little mouth, I’ll not only be resisting the urge to cram my foot down it but Aya is going to put that Seal spell right back where it originally was. You understand?”

Aya pursed her lips and studied Genlo’s face. Serrtin was angry. Her last nerve was straining. The mage rarely saw this side of her companion- anger, yes, she saw
that
but never a show of patience in the face of a rage that normally would have seen bones broke. The Yarcka was attempting to be civil; her tongue was sharp but not brutal. Aya doubted Genlo would note the difference.

Genlo opened his mouth but it was Serrtin who spoke. “
I said one peep
.”

The saurian could not see it from her higher vantage point over the Elfkin but his fists shook at his sides. His face was cold but he shut his mouth without speaking. “Now, the lot of you, follow me.” She included all of them, Agemeer included, then turned.

“So that’s what Serrtin meant by ‘looking death’.” Aya thought to herself, studying Genlo’s fierce profile. “G-Genlo…” He spared her a scathing look that included the necklace around her neck, one that said she was just as much to blame.

“Serrtin means well, I’m sure of it. Sometimes she has difficulty in saying so in a… more positive way.” Agemeer said, drawing the gaze that pinned Aya like a stave. “Please come with us. It is also my first time in a town for a season or two.” Silently Aya thanked her scholarly friend. His wise calming words took away the focus and negative light on the mage as catalyst to the trethen’s current discomfort. “Such as we are, I doubt we will be harassed but do an old man a favor and stay close to Aya and me.”

“…yea…” Genlo responded. He was not sure it was a good idea to go traipsing into a town so blatantly in the middle of day but the Wulf mollified the anger and loathing that had been swarming in the pit of his gut.

Catching the Jrahda-trethen off-guard did not last for long. He walked stiffly, cagily, and the closer they came to any of the townspeople, Aya nervously put a hand to her pendant. His arms were tight to his sides but his hands remained just that- hands, not claws. Genlo darkly eyed anyone and everyone that got close.

Aya paced beside him, letting Serrtin lead them through the dirt roads. Suddenly the mage felt a pang of sympathy when she saw Genlo’s throat move in a dry swallow. He had avoided cities all of his life, if ever he had been in one at all, and now they were forcing him into one with a threat looming over his head. His reaction had been justified, at least to him in his position.

“Stop that.”

Aya started with a blush when she realized she’d been staring.

“I’m not going to do anything so you don’t have to watch me so closely.”

“I-I know.” Aya said, moving her line of sight to Serrtin. Agemeer walked beside the mage lending her silent support if she needed it. The Wulf was keeping his excitement under wraps and trying hard to project ‘friendly canine’ with his demeanor. SkyRift remained a quiet unassuming shadow to their steps, neither fitting in nor standing out in a place where Elven-kind were fairly commonplace. No matter how much she willed her mouth to say more, the words wouldn’t come. Agemeer looked up at her as if to prompt her but still her voice failed her so she simply walked along quietly.

They garnered the attention the team thought they would. The farmers, smiths and potters along with their bundled wives glanced furtively at them but Serrtin gained most of the looks. She towered over them by a head and shoulders minimum. Yarcka were not rare in the Provinces; many took merc jobs as Coin Soldiers to the Magnates, but even without the telltale signs of a bought warrior, they were still impressive none-the-less and usually troublesome to boot.

The shifty swordsmen were probably thinking along the same lines- Coin Solders were not to be messed with if they were on Magnate business. Rich men with power were never forgiving.

Serrtin took the light off Genlo and her teammates, one she was always happy to take. Genlo’s lack of armoring- something normally taken as a weakness- conflicted with the truculent gaze that challenged any who met it, pegging him as magekind. Some dodged his unblinking gaze but the ones that did not were a worry to Aya.