Blade Kin (16 page)

Chapter 24: Running Fast

Fava rushed to the window to look out. The snow had slowed, and rain was falling outside. She could see Vo-olai’s tracks, but no sign of the girl.

“How long ago did she leave?” Darrissea asked Wayan.

“A whole bunch of hours ago,” Wayan answered. Though Wayan couldn’t tell time, Fava felt certain that Vo-olai had been gone at least ten minutes. Fava couldn’t see her anywhere along the bay front.

“Do you think she went to get herself captured?” Darrissea asked.

Fava nodded. “The snow will melt by morning,” Fava whispered, “and Thor will be up soon. She went to follow the tracks of those Blade Kin before the snow thaws.”

“Damn her,” Darrissea muttered. “It’s getting dark, and she’ll reach them long before we could. Let’s get some dinner and wait for moonrise.”

Fava agreed, and they ate quickly. Fava put on her own Blade Kin disguise, grabbed Wayan, and left the food and clothes for Darrissea to carry. They slipped out into the night just before moonrise, moving through the burned-out town like wraiths, silent and quick, floating through the foggy rain.

They headed up into the hills, walking beside the swollen river through the ancient forest, until at last the town of Smilodon Bay became lost in the trees and darkness.

“We enter our underworld,” Darrissea whispered just out of town, “the appalling wood.”

They did not have to travel far to find the Blade Kin. They walked ten miles to the small village of High Pass relatively quickly. Just before dawn they spotted the Blade Kin’s fire shining through a hide window.

The Blade Kin had made camp in the shelter of a stable, and one guard sat in the shadows outside the door, a blanket over his head to keep out the rain.

“Someone will have to take out that guard,” Darrissea said.

“I’ll do it,” Fava offered, afraid Darrissea would muck it up. Yet Fava found her own heart pounding, her breath coming short. “Those are experienced swordsmen down there. You’ve never fought in a real battle.”

“Oh,” Darrissea said thoughtfully. “And how many men have you killed lately?”

“None. But I’m stronger than you.”

“And you’re shaking like a half-drowned rat!” Darrissea countered.

“Still,” Fava said, “I’ve seen you fight in practice. You aren’t very good.”

“I don’t plan to fight them if I can help it!” Darrissea whispered. “I plan to murder them—the way the Blade Kin murdered my father!”

Fava sat back, cowed by the vehemence in Darrissea’s voice. Even in the darkness the girl’s eyes shone with anger, and she was speaking too loudly.

Fava feared that the guard downhill would hear them. She glanced in his direction. The guard still sat, huddled under his cape. Fava was so frightened, she wanted to pee. Darrissea spun away in the darkness, and Fava let her go.

Fava shivered in the cold rain, feeling vulnerable, huddling with Wayan in the trees while Darrissea stalked the Blade Kin. If Darrissea got hurt, Fava would never forgive herself.

Darrissea circled through the woods to the building, crept up on it from behind, and Fava prayed silently that the Blade Kin would not suddenly get up or turn his head.

The wet blanket that he huddled under restricted his vision to the side. When Darrissea soundlessly ran from his left, she slammed her long knife into the man’s neck, and only then did Fava realize the man must have been sleeping, for he did not react until he was stabbed.

He lunged forward, tried to grab his sword, and Darrissea’s knife flashed in the moonlight as she stabbed him again and again until he dropped. Then Darrissea grabbed the disjointed corpse of the guard, held a hand over his mouth as he died. All in all, it was a sloppy murder.

Darrissea took her knife and the Blade Kin’s scimitar and slipped into the stable. Fava’s heart pounded, and she realized she could not just stand by.

She set Wayan on the ground and whispered. “If I leave you here, could you stay put and be quiet?”

The boy nodded solemnly, but Fava did not trust him. “I’m serious,” she said. “If you cry, or if you call out for me, or if you try to come to me, we could all get killed.”

Wayan nodded, his eyes wide in the moonlight. Fava hugged him. “Good. Stay here.”

She ran down to the stable, took the dead Blade Kin’s gun, and listened by the door.

All was quiet inside except for occasional rustling sounds from the hayloft. Fava waited for ten minutes, fifteen, and realized she was sweating.

The beads of moisture on her forehead were as much a product of her own body as they were of the rain. Wayan crept downhill, walking in the slushy snow.

When he reached Fava, he grabbed her leg, held on as if for dear life. Fava realized she had asked too much of the child, so she put her hand over his mouth, and waited. After nearly half an hour, Darrissea opened the door. The human girl’s face was pale, and her sword red with blood.

“Watch yourself—” Darrissea said, “a strange illness seems to be going around. People are dying all over.”

She smiled, opened the door wide.

Fava crept inside, and Darrissea climbed to the loft, began unshackling confused prisoners who all asked questions.

There were no Blade Kin dead on the floor and Fava was grateful not to be up in the loft.
I’ve seen too many dead lately,
she told herself.

Three prisoners climbed down from the loft. Mylon, Vo-olai, and an older woman named Tchavs—a dear friend of Fava’s mother.

Tchavs hugged Fava, grabbed Wayan and swung the child around. Mylon came up close behind, followed by Vo-olai. Vo-olai’s clothes were ripped and her eyes rimmed with tears. The Blade Kin had obviously raped her. For a few moments they all stood, touching.

Tchavs held them, and her eyes glowed. “We’re all that’s left of Smilodon Bay. What do you think we should do? Shall we head south for White Rock?”

“I’m not going south,” Fava said. “I’m heading north to Bashevgo, to free Tull and my family.”

Tchavs stared at her in dismay. “That’s not possible.”

“I think it is,” Fava answered, because she
had
to believe.

“Tull’s a friend, and I would like to see him free as much as any other man,” Tchavs said. “But this plan doesn’t make sense!”

“Perhaps,” Darrissea said. “But I will accompany Fava. You and the children should find a place to hide.”

“Where?” Tchavs asked. “The Blade Kin are everywhere.”

“There must be a deserted cabin they won’t check, someplace in the woods.”

“I know a place,” Mylon suggested, “a hut where my father used to hunt birds, on an island at Lake Easy Swim. It’s well hidden.”

“Can you take Tchavs there?” Fava asked.

“Yes,” said Mylon, disappointed. The young man would have preferred to come with Fava.

“Then you should leave before sunrise,” Fava suggested, “and stay with Tchavs. She needs someone to hunt for her, someone who can help until spring.”

Tchavs gazed at Fava. “You can’t take Wayan north with you,” she said forcefully. “You either have to stay with him here, or leave him in the care of someone else.”

Fava held Wayan tightly a moment. After the past two days, hiding from the Blade Kin she felt as if he were her own son.

The thought of being separated cut her to the bone.

Tchavs put an arm around Fava. “Let me take the boy. He is Pwi. I will care for him as if he were mine.” Tchavs did not have to add the words “if you die,” Fava could hear them in her tone of voice.

Wayan clung to Fava’s neck and cried, “I want you! Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Bashevgo,” Fava said, her lips trembling, “to bring Tull home.”

“Are the slavers there?”

“Yes,” Fava said. “I will have to try to find him, then run away from the slavers. I can run faster than you, and that is why I need you to stay here.”

Wayan pouted, looked around the room, trapped in indecision.
It isn’t fair, dumping him off like this,
Fava thought.

Wayan had never had much of a life with his own father, and only in the past few weeks, after Tull forcefully took the child from his own parents, had the boy learned to smile.

“Don’t you like me?” Wayan asked. “You wouldn’t have to carry me. I could run real fast. Watch—” he tried to squirm from her arms to show how fast he could run.

“We love you,” Fava said. “I would carry you if I could. You’ve never been a burden to me, only a joy.” She struggled vainly, looking for another solution. “I know you want to stay with me, but you want to live with your brother Tull, too, don’t you?”

“I don’t care about him. I want you,” Wayan said.

Fava held him close. “I know that’s not true,” she said. “Someday soon, I will bring Tull back, and he will build us a bigger house, like he promised. And we will get you a kitten or a puppy. But for now, you will have to go with Tchavs.”

The boy took the words as if they were a physical blow, a blow that shocked and dismayed him, a blow he would take silently, just as he had taken beatings from Jenks in silence. He stared up at Fava, and she saw the wounds in the child’s eyes.

Fava held him while the others prepared to leave. Mylon climbed to the loft, brought down the Blade Kin’s gas guns and firearms, and split them between the two groups.

Vo-olai would not meet Fava’s eyes. Instead she just stared at the ground.

Fava desperately wanted Vo-olai to come, but saw she would be a detriment to the group. “I’ll find Anorath for you,” Fava promised. “I’ll bring him back, too. You stay here, help take care of Wayan and Tchavs.”

Vo-olai nodded mutely.

Fava closed her eyes. She could feel the evil kwea of Bashevgo, the long arms of the dark god reaching for her. She was frightened.

She watched Darrissea, suddenly afraid that the evil kwea would frighten the human girl away. Darrissea had no family in Bashevgo, no kin. She really didn’t have any compelling reasons to go. It made sense that the human girl would abandon Fava, leave her in the woods. They made camp in the building, slept a few hours.

When the sun began to rise, a silver mist rose from the ground. The group ate in silence, then went outside. The morning air smelled sweet after the dry manure and moldy hay of the stable. They walked out to the road, and Fava found herself beside Darrissea, watching the girl’s “soul cloud,” the steam coming from her mouth.

“You won’t leave me on the road to Bashevgo, will you?” Fava said, almost ashamed to ask. “You won’t run away?”

Darrissea glanced at her. “No, I won’t leave you,” she answered calmly. “I swore to God to free Bashevgo before I die. I always keep my promises.” Darrissea laughed, high and sweet.

Fava nodded, touched Darrissea’s hand.

The two groups said their goodbyes and separated. Fava felt saddened to see Tchavs and the children preparing to go south, but she looked at them and told herself,
They really can’t come with us to Bashevgo. None of us should be going to Bashevgo.

Mylon dragged the body of the Blade Kin guard into the barn to hide it, and Darrissea pointed at the dead man—an aging Neanderthal with silvering hair and a fierce face. The Pwi called themselves the Smiling People, but this man’s face was a mask of cruelty—a harsh beak of a nose, a wide scowling mouth, a forehead marred by creases of worry.

Even in death, the face could not relax. “Ah,” Darrissea said, “there is the inhumanity of the Blade Kin. That is the monstrosity I was searching for yesterday.” Fava looked at the face of the warrior, happy to see him dead.

Fava held Wayan till the last possible moment, then gave the boy to Tchavs. She stood on the road while Tchavs took the children and crept into the forest. Wayan waved over her shoulder. Fava waved back, wiped a tear from her eye. Darrissea rested a hand on Fava’s back. Fava smiled.

“How can you smile like that?” Darrissea asked.

Between gritted teeth Fava said, “I want Wayan to see me smiling. I want him to remember me smiling, in case he never sees me again. It will leave him with good kwea.”

***