The Knife's Edge (31 page)

Avoiding the glowing lantern that swung from a withered tree, he made his way to his pack, hoping for a bit of cheese or even dried bread, his stomach hollow with hunger. Several wool blankets were rolled tight and stacked alongside the bags that held their remaining supplies. A teakettle sat on the fire and whistled softly. Despite their vagabond lifestyle, Ayva had managed to make the camp feel like home.

She turned and smiled at him. Throwing back his hood, he returned the gesture, when Mura made a swift move on the board.

“Ah lad, you’re back! How’s the weather this morning?”

Gray shrugged off his damp cloak with a shiver, “Worsening.”

“And scouting? Did you or the Ronin see anything?” Darius asked without turning.

“Nothing but ice and wind.” It was not the least bit comforting to him however, and he had been on edge all morning, feeling as if things were hiding in the shadows.

“I coulda’ told you that,” Darius mumbled.

Mura tugged his dark cloak tight. “Good, good. No news is always the best news when it comes to that sort of thing.” He motioned Gray to sit. “Come have some tea lad. It takes the chill off.” Gray grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders.

“I hope we reach a village soon,” Ayva said. “There’s little left in the way of bread and now we’re dry as a bone as far as meat and cheese goes.”

Mura grunted his agreement, “Aye, let’s hope.”

Gray listened to the sound of the howling wind. Something Maris had said still churned in his mind. “The storm is stronger than it should be at this height and it will let up only when it decides.” The way he made it sound… as if the wind was something more. His stomach growled loudly and the others turned.

Mura raised a furry brow, “Have you eaten, boy?”

“I really haven’t had time. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ate much last night either.”

The hermit shook a sausage-thick finger. “You fool, you’re going to faint if you don’t eat something. You’re going to learn to take care of yourself, even if it’s the death of me.”

Ayva was ahead of him, pulling a half-loaf of frozen bread from the hard ground. Gray suppressed a grimace. The ice kept the mold at bay, but all remnants of taste were sapped in the process, and it always left him hungry. Gray remembered a time when he took for granted a simple loaf of bread. Still, he thanked her, knowing it was the last of their supplies.

“The Kage… how close are they now?” she asked.

“There was no sign, Ayva. Don’t worry,” he said as he took the cold bread from her. “Maris believes the deception worked. The path is clear from here on. We’ll be safe all the way to the Shining City.” Somehow Gray felt as if he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“Aha!” Mura exclaimed, making both Gray and Ayva jump.

The hermit reached across the board and picked up the slender figurine at the back, a piece shaped like a man sitting in a tall chair. He plopped it boldly on Darius’ slim corner, then wiped the last dark oak pieces from the board.

Darius gave a sly look and he knew that expression. The rogue picked up the short, stout piece; it appeared to be a cloaked fat man holding a coin purse. Skipping it across the board, Darius knocked over the figurine in the high-backed chair with a clunk.

Ayva leaned forward. “Wait, I don’t understand. How did you do that? You were about to lose, weren’t you?”

“He sacrificed his Followers to get to my Mark. A rogue’s trick,” Mura grumbled, scrubbing his peppered beard.

“Say what you will, but it did work, and on you no less,” Gray said.

Darius nodded smugly. “That’s right. What he said.”

“Bah, true enough,” the hermit admitted.

“Apology accepted,” Darius said, “Now where’s my coin?”

Mura batted the rogue’s hand from the air, “Fool rogue.” Gray noticed the remark held an affable touch and he remembered the days when it was only him and Mura. Somehow they seemed so long ago and nostalgia ran through him.

Darius rubbed his hand like a wounded cub. “Oh well, nothing to spend it on anyway. Not until we get to the Shining City at least. Dice! I’m not one for drinking usually, but I’ve never wanted a brew or something warm like spiced wine in my whole life.” He leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. “What I wouldn’t give for the light of a common room, the laughter of men and women, a good bard’s tale soothing me to a nice, drunken stupor, and perhaps some warm company on my arm. Both arms that is of course. They’ll have to compete for my attention. It’ll be tough. I’m quite choosy and I won’t want to disappoint either of them.”

With the back of his boot, Gray casually knocked him over, ending his rant.

The rogue yelped and fell into the blankets. “Gah! What was that for?”

“I think I regret backing you up.”

“I still don’t understand,” Ayva said, eyeing the board.

Darius leaned back, owning his newfound position. “It’s quite simple really. Everyone is so focused on the battle that the war is often taking place right beneath their noses.” He pantomimed snatching it from the air.

“Wise words.” All four turned at the abrupt voice. Maris stood on the edge of their campsite. With his hood pulled back, his white hair blended with the snow behind him. His features were hard, breath misting in the morning air. “Pack up,” he ordered. “Have the villagers ready to leave shortly.” He turned as if to leave then glanced back at Gray. He knew that look. He was being summoned. Maris turned and disappeared as mysteriously as he’d entered.

“Why is it that I always feel we are in the dark?” Darius questioned. He got up and gathered up cyn pieces, dropping them into a leather bag.

“Because we are,” said Ayva. “What is he having you do that’s so important?”

“I’ve told you. I’m helping him scout. Why are you two so suspicious all of the sudden?” Gray answered.

Ayva grabbed a blanket, vigorously shaking and folding it. “How can we not be, Gray? Did you not see what just happened?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?” Darius asked as he angrily cinched the bag of cyn pieces.

Gray raised his hands defensively. “Look, I really would like to pretend that I know what’s going on here, but I have no idea what you two are talking about.”

“Of course not,” said Darius.

He replied calmly, “If you have a problem with Maris, talk to him, I don’t see—”

“Are you really so blind, Gray?” Ayva asked. “What makes you think he’ll talk to us? He has no need for us. He only wants you.”

Gray tossed the heel of the bread. “Why do you both care so much? Honestly, I don’t complain when you two laugh and have private jokes in front of me, or talk about times in Lakewood that I have no idea about. In fact, now that I think about it, I guess I’m the only one who does have something to be angry about.”

Darius laughed unkindly. “So you didn’t grow up where we did, who cares? I’m not going to change the things I say just because of that. And it’s easy to make private jokes you don’t get if you’re never here.”

“Listen, I don’t know about the rest of it, but Darius is right about one thing, we barely see you,” Ayva said. “It’s like you’re too good for us.”

“Is that what this is all about? You think I’m too good for you?”

Mura spoke gruffly, “Enough! All of you stop your bickering. Gray is simply aiding the Ronin for now. Besides, once we get to the Shining City this hard road will be behind us and we’ll all feel a lot better.”

“I don’t need this,” Gray said, grabbing his wet cloak.

Darius jumped to his feet. “Go then! No one is stopping you. Then again, a Ronin’s lapdog wouldn’t notice either way.”

“Darius that’s enough,” Ayva said.

His fist clenched at his side. The rogue thrust out his chin, as if daring him to take a punch. At last, he released his fist and strode away.

“Gray, wait!” Ayva shouted, but he was already gone, moving into the camp. Snow fell, but it did not cool his blood. What do they know? They just don’t understand, He kicked at a patch of snow. They can play their dicing games and make their stupid jokes while the whole world topples down around them for all I care.

Ahead, he felt the Ronin’s presence. Maris stood waiting at a little place above the camp, on the rise of the winding trail. Already, the fire in Gray’s blood was beginning to cool, but his annoyance seeped out as he asked, “What is it?”

Maris looked into the white beyond, as if his eyes could see through the flurries of snow. “It was told to me once that with the power of the wind one can sense the presence of others. I need you to do that for me.”

“I’ve done it before, but I thought you can sense others also?”

Maris turned, looking troubled. “I can feel those who move along the ground with the power of nature, but this presence is blocked. I have a feeling yours might just work.”

Nodding, he delved into his mind. Summoning the nexus was easier now. The swirling ball of air floated forth and he traced the same threads, as the Ronin called them. Abruptly, the world was illuminated, not by sight, but by feel. Whatever the wind touched, he could see. With the rising turbulent winds, he imagined this would be easy, but guiding his power was like trying to grasp a feather in a storm. He had to strain to see through the smoke of the campfires and the swirling snow. Tiny bright lights flickered in his mind, glowing as clear as day. Villagers, he realized. When he had a marginal handle on his power he asked, “Where did you want me to sense?”

“Go north.”

He obeyed and Darius words flashed in his mind, irking him—the thought of him as Maris’ lapdog, but he shoved it aside and pushed forward.

Most of the trail ahead was a haze of white, but he pressed on, flowing over rock and ice. Suddenly a presence pinged, smaller than a gnat. Veering towards it, he saw a tall figure standing upon a rock, but obscured in the blur of wind and snow. A flash of scarlet red pierced his soul and pain erupted in his head. He cried out, vision shattering. He opened his eyes to see his gloved fingers gripping the cold snow. Maris knelt over him with a worried look. “Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“What did you see?”

“A hooded figure standing upon a rock. I saw red eyes.”

Maris didn’t react. “How far away?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Maris rubbed his jaw then gave a smirk. “No matter. You surprise me, boy. You’re even more talented than I anticipated.”

“Was that?” Gray couldn’t say his name.

Maris offered a hand, helping him to his feet. “Kail,” the Ronin supplied. “It was a shot in the dark, but I figured if anyone could see if it was him, it would be you. Your powers are remarkably similar. It seems I was correct.”

Gray rubbed his head as he gained his feet. “I don’t think I was so lucky.”

“You think he let you see him?” Maris asked. Gray nodded. “I should have figured. The Traitor is clever. More than any man I’ve ever known—a fact I owe my life too, and perhaps my death as well.”

Though he had heard the stories, Gray could scarcely imagine what happened those many centuries ago to cause such rift. “Then he is the one that is changing the weather and causing this cursed storm?”

Maris rolled his knife through his fingers. “It could only be him.”

Wind tugged at his clothes, howling through the passes. “How can he be so powerful?”

“This?” Maris raised his knife, gesturing to the brewing storm. “This is but a fraction of what he can do. This is a lover’s caress for him. If he wished it, the wind would not be so gentle,” Maris shook his head. “I don’t know why but he is making each step upon his mountain a hard-fought one, yet for now, he has still made it feasible. Let’s just hope he doesn’t bring the mountain down upon our heads.”

“What do we do?” Gray asked.

Maris slammed his knife into its sheath. “Nothing we can do. We must continue to move forward. Keep an eye on him if you can, but do not stray too far north—I don’t know the extent of your powers, but he does. He was the strongest of us all, and he’s had more than a millennium to hone those skills. We must keep you safe.” Maris spoke over his shoulder as his cloak flapped in the storm. “Gray, do not let your friends get to you. You will need each other in the days to come.” With that, the Ronin headed back towards the camp.

Gray tried to pierce the haze of white with his gaze.

A voice sounded, blending with the wind. “I am coming for you…”

* * *

Over the next few days, Gray searched intently for Kail, though he never saw him again since that moment with Maris. His vision of wind saw only what his eyes did, endless sheets of snow and ice. He found himself spending less and less time with Ayva, Darius and the others, but they didn’t seem to mind. A few times he sensed eyes on him, and he looked to see Ayva watching him. Otherwise, he watched as his friends laughed and talked as if he was never there and the gap between them grew greater and greater. Instead, he spent his time with Maris. When the gales of snow, sleet and ice, would get too heavy, they would have to find shelter and make camp or be swept from the mountain. In these moments, Maris would tell him stories of the Lieon, of ancient battles, generals, and the Great Kingdoms. Moreover, he would instruct him on the ways of the flow. And with the aid of the Ronin and hard work, his powers expanded slowly but surely.