Calling On Fire (Book 1) (16 page)

"Remarkable," Nassata said.

"That’s more or less how I can create an army, if need be," Toman replied.

Nassata turned her face to him and gave him an unreadable, inhuman look. The sunlight had made her pupils narrow, and the change made her seem that much more alien.

"Of course," Toman continued, "we probably wouldn’t waste time painting anything I animate. These are only painted so we don’t draw too much attention when traveling...in a more conventional manner."

"That is probably wise," Nassata conceded. She turned to the small carriage that the two horses were harnessed to. Of medium size, the carriage would comfortably fit the three of them, with little room to spare. It was relatively plain and made of some dark-colored wood with little shuttered windows.

With a quick, reptilian motion, Nassata propelled herself back towards the carriage door. She shifted her coils, raising her torso easily, bypassing the need for the step to reach the door. With similar ease she slithered up into the space within.

Toman noticed Esset’s entranced expression and grinned at his brother; the look on his face foretold the unleashing of way too many questions. He just hoped the Nadra were a relatively tolerant race—or at least one that wouldn’t be too insulted by too many questions.

The animator shoved Esset out of the way so he could get in the carriage first, ignoring the glare his best friend shot at his back on the way up. The summoner had smoothed his expression by the time he got in, however, and he was back to his old self in scant moments. He shut the door behind him, and Toman directed the horses to set off at a trot; the horses had enough instructions to avoid any accidents and whatnot, so he was free to leave them without a driver out front.

Esset opened his mouth to ask Nassata a question, but Toman interrupted him. "So, which direction, Warrior Nassata?"

"Follow the northwest trade road to start—when it splits, take the left branch. I will direct you after that," she replied. Toman nodded and the horses began navigating down the streets to leave through the correct gate.

"Fair enough. I’ll give you a heads up when we’re in need of further directions so we can just keep moving forward. Unless you think differently, we were thinking we’d only stop for the, uh, call of nature," Toman explained.

Nassata nodded. "Thank you. I would like to see us back with my people as quickly as possible, that we may end this war." She sat back, settling herself against the cushioned seats. "Now, then, I suppose we have a long, confined trip ahead of us."

Esset seized the opportunity. "Actually, I was hoping I could ask—"

Nassata fixed Esset with a look before he could finish his segue. "Gretchen saw fit to warn me about you. She said that you would likely ask an insufferable number of questions and that I could tell you quite clearly that I will not answer any question I do not wish to. So, let me make myself clear. I am not averse to conversation, but I will not tolerate an interrogation, however benign."

"Ah..." was all Esset could manage in the brief pause. His intense curiosity seemed to have deflated somewhat.

"She said especially that you would be curious about my race, and our physiology in particular. Let me tell you now that there are really only two things you need to know. These," she placed one of her index fingers next to one of the dark indentations that resided on either side of the bridge of her nose, "are called pits, and they allow us to detect heat rather accurately. This means that even with my eyes closed, I know where you are. The only other thing you need to know at this time is that no Nadra is ever unarmed."

From outside, there was a slight but visible wobble of the carriage as there was a sudden shift of weight within. Nassata lurched forward, her one hand striking towards Esset. Her hand was open-palmed and stopped bare millimeters from his face, but the real danger lay below. From her wrist jutted a sixth digit, previously concealed. It was a very short, finger-like appendage with a conical claw at the end; the claw was tipped black, and pointed directly at his throat. Esset blinked and froze, knowing that if she’d wanted to kill him, she had him dead to rights. Toman had frozen too, clearly ready to act if needed, but uncertain about what, exactly, to do—Nassata was not an enemy...surely?

"Of course, had I really wanted you dead, a grip on your throat while striking with my poison claw would be far more effective." She smiled, baring teeth that were normal except for the extended, pointed incisors. The expression was very eerie, given the context. Nassata lowered her hand and flowed backwards, away from Esset and back into her previous position. The claw sank back into her wrist with a complicated collapsing motion. Now that they knew where to look, Toman and Esset could see where it hid—it simply looked like a rather large, inwardly-turned belly-button, with the sides of the skin pressed together in a long slit.

"So ask away," Nassata said after giving Esset a chance to shift position uncomfortably and raise a hand to rub his untouched—but recently imperiled—throat. "But remember that lesson if you ever see a Nadra begin to grow irritated."

Now that Nassata had withdrawn, Toman smirked at Esset.

"Really though, you shouldn’t be overly concerned with Nadran physiology and abilities," she continued when it was clear Esset wasn’t going to speak—let alone ask any questions—for the moment. "After all, you will be fighting with us, not against us. However, should the need arise, I will of course inform you of anything you need to know. And a little idle curiosity is harmless enough." Her lips quirked in amusement at Esset.

"Y’hear that, Esset? You’ll have to pare down that list of questions you’ve got stored up in your head, and by quite a bit," Toman laughed. Esset shot him a glare, and a degree of normalcy returned to the atmosphere.

"So you seemed to know the sergeant from previously," Toman asked Nassata, trying to start a more normal conversation. "Do you mind me asking?"

Nassata gave a genuine smile. "Not at all. About a decade ago, I did some traveling abroad. I found myself in a bit of trouble, and Gretchen helped me out. We traveled together for a while—did some fighting too, for that matter—and found ourselves to be something of kindred spirits. Unfortunately I haven’t seen her since, not before today. I would have liked to have come for a visit under different circumstances and stayed longer, but such is life. We had each promised to call on the other should help be needed, so it was quite natural to go to her when I heard what it is she now does. She is a good person in a business where there are few good people."

"That's the truth," Toman agreed. "She’s done a fair bit for us too, although we try to reciprocate."

"Maybe when this is all over you can go visit her," Esset suggested, looking over at Toman. "I imagine that we’ll be heading back this way ourselves, and we could cut your traveling time and whatnot again."

"I wouldn’t have a problem with that," Toman agreed with a small nod. "I’m afraid we have a bad habit of seeing her as a sergeant, with no life beyond her work. We know that’s not right, but..." He shrugged.

"But she has never been a person to discourage that perception," Nassata added insightfully.

Esset blinked. "That’s true." Maybe she wanted to be seen that way, but it still didn’t seem right to him.

"I thank you for the offer," Nassata added. "I may take you up on it, but it remains to be seen how things will unfold."

"Yeah." Esset leaned in. "Speaking of which, I imagine we’ll be wanting to get to work right away when we get there. What can you tell us about the current situation that would be helpful?"

Nassata shook her head. "It will be far more effective to wait until we reach Salithsa. Our underground city can be difficult to comprehend without maps, and we will be better able to strategize once we fully understand your capabilities."

"Fair enough," Toman conceded. "We'll have to wait until we get there then."

Conversation shifted to mundane topics until evening. After dark they shifted around and distributed blankets so they could each sleep comfortably while the carriage moved endlessly towards their destination.

It was their third day of travel. Over the past hour or so, Toman and Esset had noticed the terrain growing rougher. They hadn't paid it much mind, however; the roads varied in quality depending on the area and local ruler, and there had even been a few occasions where the carriage had detoured off-road and through fields.

Toman and Esset were relaying a humorous story of a job they’d done a year ago. They were concluding the tale when Esset felt something suddenly slip around his ankle. He jumped in surprise and looked down in time to see the tip of Nassata’s tail vanish back into the mass of coils that filled most of the floor space in the carriage cabin.

"Ah—I apologize," Nassata said, bowing her head slightly. "I did not intend anything."

"Uh, s’all right," Esset stammered, obviously feeling awkward.

"My people are very tactile, and it is a cultural quirk of ours that we like to be in physical contact with those we are conversing with. I’m afraid I have spent so little time away from my people recently that habit took over while I was engrossed in your story. When I went abroad in the past, I was much better at restraining such habits."

Esset noticed that she really did look sheepish. It was also readily apparent to him why she hadn’t tried the same with Toman; she and Toman were on the same side of the carriage, so there was no preventing her long tail from being pressed up against his leg already.

"There’s nothing to be sorry for," Esset replied, relaxing now that he understood. "I’ll try to restrain from jumping next time." He smiled crookedly at her, and she gave a little hiss of a laugh.

"I do not know how my people will react to you, however. I would say you should accustom yourself to such things, but in truth, your reception may be less than warm. Few humans come to our home, and few of us travel abroad, so most will likely be rather wary of you." Her tone was still somewhat apologetic.

"Well, it’s nice to know either way," Toman replied seriously. "We don’t want to offend anyone unintentionally."

"Hopefully that will not be an issue. The upside of having so little exposure to outsiders is that we are very aware that our customs are not theirs, and theirs not ours. No one should expect you to know our ways, much less our etiquette and habits."

Esset was nodding seriously at her words. He was about to add something when the carriage slowed and, for the first unexpected time in three days, stopped.

There was a moment of mild surprise from all of them before Toman stated the obvious. "I think we’re here."

Esset leaned over and opened the door. They’d passed through the rough terrain to their destination. They'd stopped near a large, rocky outcropping, the furthest the carriage could go. They would have to proceed on foot.

"Finally!" Esset hopped out of the carriage and indulged in an exaggerated stretch. Nassata emerged next, taking in a deep, appreciative breath of fresh air. Toman came out last, and he smiled, glad to finally be free of their confines as well. After closing the door behind him, he looked around and directed the horses to a spot where they and the carriage would be mostly concealed until the brothers came to retrieve them. And if anyone tried to steal them in the meantime, the horses had directions to lead the would-be burglars on a merry chase and then return to the spot. Meanwhile, Esset retrieved the packs they’d be taking with them.

"Okay, let’s go," the animator said when he was finished. Nassata had taken the opportunity to get her bearings and now headed off to lead the way. The landscape became very rocky, and she led them up a narrow path that wound through the rocks. They climbed quite a ways in before stopping at the top, where a concealed cave entrance waited.

"Here," she said. "This leads to Salithsa, the home of my people." She seemed all too eager to plunge into the darkness. Toman and Esset both cast one last, wistful look at the sun and followed her into the dark tunnel.

They hadn't made it a dozen paces in when Esset tripped and almost landed on his face. Nassata's hand darted out and clamped around his bicep, saving him from the faceplant.