Vault Of Heaven 01 - The Unremembered (51 page)

“Tricks?” Alisandra said suspiciously.

“Nothing as fancy as the feats in your larger tents, but I have given the beast the rest of your money, and some extra besides, and asked him to bring it to you.”

Alisandra took up a dagger.

“There is no need of that,” Tahn said. “The creature wants to serve. A kind word and second meal bowl will earn you his trust. Think of the money to be made by bringing people to this cage and letting them inside to pet its hoary skin. You could train it to do small tricks; your mastery over it will make you rich.” Tahn leaned in conspiratorially.

Alisandra’s eyes danced with the prospect. She appraised the Lul’Masi, greed written large upon her face. Then her lust for lucre gave way to the guarded look she usually wore. “What gain is in it for you? Why tell me such things? Do you intend to petition for partnership in the tenendra?”

Sutter laughed, causing Alisandra to frown. “No partnership,” Tahn said. “A kiss.”

The request startled the girl for a moment, and she drew her head back in obvious suspicion, a grin teasing at one corner of her mouth.

“I don’t care for the beast, and I don’t seek my fortune,” Tahn said confidentially. “My friend is healed, I have what I want … mostly.”

“Mostly?” Alisandra’s beautiful, dangerous smile returned.

“I’ll have a kiss from you without price, and then I’ll carry the memory of winning your favor without lightening my purse. It will warm me when my fires grow cold.”

Sutter laughed from behind him, but this time Alisandra regarded Tahn with appreciation.

“Well, boy,” Alisandra said, “you may have your kiss, and that will put paid to all future claims you might make.” She inclined toward him, stopping short. “And you will take this information with you when you leave Squim. Should another come to understand the gentle nature of the beast, I will find you and show you your earth.”

Tahn shook his head and puckered clownishly. Alisandra put her soft lips to his own, and Tahn’s pucker melted beneath the heat of her mouth. She moved her lips across his for several moments, taking, he thought, some pleasure in the kiss. The touch and taste of her lips, the danger and mystery of her, the striking beauty, all of it raced through Tahn. It was part of the ruse, and part of his own fledgling desires—together they made it a kiss he would never forget. Alisandra gave a soft, submissive sound before pulling away. Tahn’s mouth hung open as she called the beast toward her.

The Lul’Masi walked sheepishly, cowering, but advancing at her call.

Tahn could see Alisandra had bought his story; a wild light shone in her eyes like that of a child waiting to be given gifts. Hesitantly, Col’Wrent approached until he was within arm’s reach. He turned his head, looking away as he proffered his palm filled with coins as though he were afraid. His fingers trembled as the girl reached to take the money. In her confidence, she made no haste, gathering the coins with arrogance.

In an instant, the Lul’Masi took Alisandra by the wrist, its grip stopping the flow of blood into her hand. It yanked the girl toward itself and wrapped its mighty arms around her. It squeezed until her face reddened to the hue of summer apples. She lost all her breath before she could utter a cry and moments later she slipped to the floor.

Tahn dove to his knees to check her breathing. She was alive, merely unconscious.

“We should hurry,” Sutter slurred, still woozy. “The town will not be safe once they find out what we’ve done.”

Tahn stood, dwarfed beneath the Lul’Masi. “Thank you.”

“The debt is mine,” Col’Wrent answered. “Now go. Your friend is right. I will free the others.”

Tahn and Sutter raced to the end of the tent. Sutter ducked outside, but Tahn looked back to see the Lul’Masi take the key from Alisandra’s hand and begin to open the other cages. The Inveterae looked up and caught Tahn’s eye. A look of gratitude passed between them, and it made Tahn wonder about the nature of the Inveterae.

Then Sutter pulled Tahn through the tent flap and they ran back past the tenendra toward town.

*   *   *

They rode most of the night north out of Squim. They didn’t speak, pushing to put leagues between themselves and the tenendra. In the waning hours of night, Tahn turned his attention east and thought about the coming of dawn, about another day of life. He imagined the rays of sunrise striking a more peaceful world, one where Wendra hummed over morning pig steak. The thought of his sister ended his ritual predawn reverie. Skies, he missed her. There seemed a hole inside him. He couldn’t remember a time without her in his life. Not where he couldn’t go to her if he needed to. Or if she needed him.

And again he recalled the moment when he hesitated in releasing his draw on the Bar’dyn hovering over his sister’s birth bed.
I’m so sorry, Wendra. Forgive me. Are you okay? Your child … it’s not your fault.

Those maddening words—
I draw with the strength of my arms
—Tahn’s frustration returned. Long ago, he’d learned to live with the ritual saying. It flashed in his mind so quickly that it posed no encumbrance to his skill with his bow. But the origin of those words, and now the trouble it had caused Wendra, plagued him anew. Would he ever understand what made him say them?

No, there had been no good reason to let his sister’s child be carried into the night by one of the Quiet. He would not forgive or explain that away.

All he could do was let the wind and rhythm of Jole’s hooves lull him toward less troubling thoughts, and hope he would find her in Recityv with the others.

Some time later, full day lit the sky.

Sutter reined in. “We’ve got to get off this road.” His words were no longer slurred, and his friend looked more like himself.

Tahn pulled up beside him and wheeled around. There was no sign that anyone was following them, but he nodded. With Quiet on their trail as well, and tent folk they’d be best off avoiding, getting off the road made sense. Having forgotten his tender foot, he winced as he jumped to the ground.

“Watch those delicate toes,” Sutter jested as he dismounted. “I have it on good authority that they intend to dance a turn with a quick-footed Far. You’d better stay on the mend.”

Tahn grinned through his pain. “Perhaps I ought to fix you with the bit and bridle and ride you a distance. I could do with the rest and quiet, and so could the horses.”

Favoring his left foot, he ducked into the dense trees on the east side of the road, and pushed himself and the horses as quickly as he could. Blue shadows clung to the ground in the early light of dawn, the smell of dew thick over fallen leaves and low rocks.

When the road had been left far behind and the trees thinned, Sutter pulled abreast of Tahn. “Explain something to me. How does a melura, who rubs the reproductive scents of animals across his boots and shoulders to attract game while hunting, fetch the smiles of so many women?” Sutter grinned wickedly.

“Those gamey smells have gotten me a few friends, too.” Tahn smiled back.

“I hope you’re not talking about me,” Sutter said. “I’d just like to know why
you
got to kiss Alisandra.”

“These women you talk of are all deft with a blade. Isn’t that somehow unwise?” Tahn furrowed his brow in mockery of reason.

“You looked plenty
wise
receiving Alisandra’s lips. And don’t play coy with me about the Far. You may as well have branded your intentions on your forehead.”

“And what about you, root-digger,” Tahn put back. “You’ve declared
your
intentions for my sister. Do you esteem her less than a tenendra girl?”

“How did we end up talking about me?” Sutter asked. “You’re the one flapping your lips all over the place. And while we’re at it, for one who wanted to live out his life isolated in the Hollows, you’ve taken a keen interest in poking your nose into the private affairs of others.”

“You mean like taking a square stance against a ranking member of the Sedagin?”

“Just defending your sister’s honor,” Sutter said, bowing as he walked.

They laughed together and wound their way through leaf-shadow.

Tahn found a comfortable rhythm. “You know what we forgot?”

“Yeah, directions,” Sutter replied.

“The ravine runs east there,” Tahn pointed, “but turns north before reaching that range.” He indicated a mountain ridge visible through the trees. “I think we should leave the road alone. You can dig—”

Sutter put his hand on Tahn’s arm, his smile fading. He turned to face Tahn. “Thank you.”

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s no treat to taste the snot of a brute from the Bourne. Thing gave me the crawls.” He paused. “But you went into that cage and could have been that thing’s next meal. You didn’t know any better than the girl who sold you admission what it might have done.”

Tahn tried to dismiss it. “It was nothing. You’d have done the same—”

“Yeah, I would have,” Sutter cut in. “But … it’s just that I think often about the people who put something at risk for me. There’s precious few who ever have.”

Tahn understood that Sutter was thinking about the man and woman who raised him as their son, and about his actual birth parents who had given him away before he was old enough to know them. In hindsight, Tahn thought maybe a lot of who his friend had become had to do with trying to reconcile himself with—or maybe leave behind—the decisions those people had made. He thought maybe his friend felt dispensible, and needed to get past that. And suddenly some of the jokes they’d shared all their lives echoed back a touch darker.

“Well,” Tahn said, “my guess is you’ll get to return the favor. So hold on to your good intentions.”

Tahn tried to continue east, but Sutter held him back. “It’s more than that. I don’t know why the Sheason and Far came for you. I don’t think you know, either. But whatever it is, I think it’s a lot more important than we’ve given them credit for. I mean, they didn’t come to the Hollows for a root-digger. You take my meaning?”

Tahn stared. He understood. Maybe Sutter was right. But he looked back with defiance. “I won’t be caught on the wrong side of the choice to help a friend, Sutter. Not ever again. Anything the Sheason means for me to do will have to be in harmony with that. Or else he’s got the wrong melura. Doesn’t that seem right to you?”

Sutter thought, then slowly nodded. “It does. But then, this whole business is backward, Tahn. Seems like you could do what feels right, and be wrong. Just remember that.”

Tahn nodded. “Or perhaps we are decoys in a larger, more complicated plan.” The dark, cloaked figure spinning rain down upon a bull elk flashed in his mind. “But so you know, I’m not at all sure this is about me. For all we know, it
could
be about you.” He jabbed a playful finger into Sutter’s chest.

They laughed again, the moment behind them, and headed down the ravine, angling northeast.

They traveled the rest of the day, mostly walking. Near dusk, they descended a low ridge. The distant hum of a river rose into the forest, a soothing, familiar strain. The ravine descended to a river running south. They led their mounts to drink. An orange sun reflected its double in the glossy surface, river flies and other insects darting to and fro over the calm water. The ripples of fish surfacing to feed briefly interrupted the languid smoothness. Near the shore, the river tapered gradually, the water clear enough to see the sands in the shallows.

Tahn looked out over the river with relief; this, at least, was good fortune—rivers meant food and water, and always rejoined a road if you followed them far enough.

“See,” he said. “Just stick with me.” He swelled his chest with a lungful of air and inclined his chin toward the rising moon in a heroic pose.

Sutter caught him off guard while he was striking his pose, shoving him into the river before Tahn could catch his balance. The chill of the water bit at his skin, but not unpleasantly.

Tahn got his feet under him and turned on his friend. “Bad foot or none, Nails, you’re going to gulp your share of river water in a moment.”

“You should take the opportunity to bathe,” Sutter said, laughing. “I’ll cut you some peppermint leaves to perfume your delicate skin.”

Tahn rushed him.

“Now, Woodchuck, you really ought to accept your wetness like a man.” Sutter barked laughter, allowing Tahn to grab him around the waist and hold him up. “This won’t help either,” Sutter sputtered through laughing lips. “I’m not baring my shoulders for you.”

Laughing, Tahn pulled Sutter back into deeper water, both of them submerging for a moment. Tahn let go, welcoming the soothing cold on his foot and slowly floating to the surface. He heard Sutter splashing toward him, no doubt preparing to take up their bout. Just as he was about to surface, a hand grasped the nape of his neck and thrust his head deeper under water.

As he went down again, he smiled at the impetuous, tireless antics of his friend. The same prank had been shared between them endlessly on the banks of the Huber. He waited a moment, determining whether to counter, or simply to wait for Sutter to let him up and continue the contest. The hand did not relent, but grew tighter, pinching savagely around the base of Tahn’s skull and thrusting him deeper.