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Authors: Anne Logston

Waterdance (6 page)

BOOK: Waterdance
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“But makes sure they always know where you are, at least unless we can get out of range of their detection,” Peri said grimly. “And supposing that they’re east of us and traveling west, too, the only way we could do that is either by crossing south and hoping we can dodge whatever they throw at us, making really good speed west, or turning farther north into Sarkond—”

“—or hiding ourselves,” Atheris said suddenly, “and letting them pass us by.”

Peri gazed around them in the starlight. They were past the rocky hills. The land here was as flat as the Bregondish plains.

“Can’t,” she said shortly. “No shelter.”

“There is shelter,” Atheris said simply, pointing to the caravan fires ahead of them in the darkness.

“That’s ridiculous,” Peri said irritably. “You think they’d hide us? I don’t have so much as a copper for a bribe, and what makes you think they’d shelter a Bregond anyway? And even if they did, that’d be the first place your Bone Hunters would search. Besides, even if you could hide us with your magic, the Bone Hunters have to know we came this way, and if they lost our track suddenly, it wouldn’t be too hard to figure where we’ve gone.”

“Not,” Atheris said softly, “if I give them something else to follow.”

It took Peri a moment to realize what he meant; then she set her jaw firmly.

“No,” she said flatly. “Absolutely not. Not Tajin.”

“I can cast a blood spell,” Atheris said insistently. “We can send the horse south into Bregond, meanwhile concealing ourselves in the caravan. The horse will seek to return home and the Bone Hunters will follow it—”

“It doesn’t gain us anything but a little time,” Peri said, grinding her teeth. “And it puts us on foot, and when the Bone Hunters’ horses wake, then they’ll have the advantage of speed—assuming they don’t just send some kind of magical bolt down on Tajin, that is, in which case they’ll be after us that much faster when they don’t find any bodies with the horse. I don’t see that the idea does us any good at all.”

“Why are the merchants here?” Atheris said suddenly, and fell silent.

Peri fell silent, too, thinking. Merchants here meant other merchants, Bregondish merchants, on the other side of the Barrier. The two groups would meet to trade sooner or later. If Peri could sneak into the Bregondish caravan, or hide and contact them later, they could be bribed, coaxed, threatened, at least to get her safely to the nearest village or, better yet, herding clan. It was true that Tajin would head for home—and to him, “home” would most likely mean Danber’s clan deep in the south of Bregond. And magic or not, he’d lead those Bone Hunters on their culls a merry chase indeed. And if Peri really wanted to confuse the back trail, she could leave Atheris with the Sarkondish merchants. Let the Bone Hunters divide their attention between two false trails.

“How are you going to talk the merchants into taking us in?” Peri asked after a moment’s thought. “I mean, they’ll see I’m not Sarkondish. Even in the dark, even if I don’t say a word, my clothes are different. Won’t they be more likely to just turn both of us over to the Bone Hunters instead?”

“I did not propose to ask them,” Atheris said rather abashedly. “What they do not know, they cannot tell.”

Again Peri fell silent. It was a large caravan and surely well-guarded, but a good mage could bypass their safeguards, at least long enough to find a hiding place in a wagon full of trade goods. They’d ride cramped and quiet and nervous
but...

Peri slid off Tajin’s back, trying not to feel the familiar warmth of his solid muscles, the familiar roughness of his thick coat.

“All right,” she said grimly. “Let’s do it.”

Atheris slid from the saddle more slowly and awkwardly, and Peri, to her disgust, had to steady him on his feet. She pulled the waterskins, her weapons, her emergency pack from the saddle. As an afterthought she scratched her name and Danber’s clan sign—safer than revealing her royal connections—onto the saddle skirt along with three symbols—“safe/ hiding/returning.” Any Bregond could read that message or would know someone who could; any Bregond would see the message sent and the horse returned to Danber. And Danber would see that a message reached either Aunt Kairi or Peri’s parents, or possibly both.

“Your knife,” Atheris said, and this time Peri silently handed it over; there were no convenient shards of rock-glass here. Atheris chanted as he unwrapped his cut hand; Peri could not help wincing as he deliberately set the cut to bleeding again, letting the blood drip on the saddle. He wrapped the cut again, then glanced at Peri and held out his hand, still chanting softly.

Peri swallowed hard at the idea of participating in Sarkondish magic, of extending the slightest trust to a Sarkond holding a knife, but she pushed up her left sleeve and held her arm over the saddle. What kind of fool cuts his hand? Hardest place in the world to keep clean and covered, hurts you worst in a fight—clenching her fist, Peri pointed sternly to the fatty part where she wanted him to cut. To Atheris’s credit he did it more carefully than when he’d cut himself before.

This time there was no glow from the droplets of blood, but Peri felt an odd dizziness, like a brief instant of double perception in which she seemed at the same time to be sitting in Tajin’s saddle and standing beside the horse.

“All right,” Peri said when Atheris had finished his chant, knotting her sleeve tight around the cut for lack of a better bandage. “We’d better get closer to the caravan before I send Tajin off.”

“Yes,” Atheris panted, not elaborating. He was noticeably unsteady on his feet now, so tired that he was shaking.

He’d better have enough juice left to get us into that caravan, Peri thought grimly, and to hide us once we’re there, or we’ll be a lot worse off than when we started—no horse, no hiding place, and no mage, just a couple of exhausted and nearly defenseless fugitives.

Atheris refused Peri’s offer to lead him on Tajin again—he said it might ruin the blood spell—but he kept one hand on the mounting loop and leaned heavily on Tajin as he walked. At last they were close enough that Peri began to worry about the danger of caravan guards spotting them even in the meager starlight, and she left Atheris with Tajin to scout ahead more carefully.

Peri was concerned to find the guards rather sparse, and she hastily halted her approach. For a caravan this size and in this dangerous territory to have so few guards could mean only one thing—that they used mages and wards instead, and Peri was certainly not mage enough either to detect or to bypass such wards. She prayed Atheris was.

“You are half-right,” Atheris said soberly when Peri returned and told him what she’d seen. “Mages, possibly; wards, no. No reliable wards of any strength could be sustained this close to the power of the Veil. Instead they will rely on smaller and more localized magics—trap spells on their most valuable cargo, alarm spells on the horses and such—to protect the goods, and a few guards to patrol the camp. At this point on the road that is more than sufficient. This area is too poor and open to sustain Sarkondish bandits and raiders, so patrols rarely come this far south, and no one from Bregond could know they are here except those with whom they have made arrangements to meet. They are relatively safe here, and when they return north into the more populated lands, their more powerful magics will become reliable again.”

That made some sense. Peri gathered her belongings into
the best bundle she could manage under the circumstances; when she could not put it off any longer, she turned to Tajin, patting his neck and scratching behind his ears. Her heart broke when he snorted in that familiar way, butting his nose against her shoulder. Clenching her teeth hard, Peri forced herself to release Tajin’s head.

“Neycha, Tajin,” she murmured in his ear. “Home.” She slapped his rump sharply, turning away so she would not have to watch him turn obediently south, heading straight for the Barrier. He was trained to carry a message in an emergency; he’d head south as fast as he could.

“He will soon pass through,” Atheris said a moment later. “We must hide ourselves now.”

“And let’s see how you plan to do that,” Peri muttered to herself. There were guards and protection spells—however minor—to sneak past, and Atheris looked pretty exhausted to her.

To Peri’s surprise, Atheris’s chant seemed short, almost cursory, but there was no doubt he’d done something; she felt a strange prickling, itching sensation that seemed to crawl over her skin so that she had to fight hard not to fidget and scratch.

Atheris walked slowly but without any real stealth toward the caravan, beckoning to Peri to follow. She took a deep breath and gave a little mental shake—it went deep against her grain to trust magic (especially Sarkondish magic) when she could neither see its effects nor even had a clear idea of what it did. Still, Atheris had as much to lose as she did—or maybe more—if they were captured; to that extent, at least, she could trust him.

Her trust was stretched to its limit, however, as they approached the caravan. There were indeed guards, more than Peri had originally thought; they’d simply stayed much closer to the camp than was customary in Agrondish or Bregondish caravans. The guards were neither idle nor careless and wandered steadily among the wagons, and Peri found that reassuring; at least it confirmed what Atheris had said.

The first time Peri saw two of the guards turn in their direction she froze in fear, certain that discovery and attack was imminent; to her amazement, however, the men ignored her and Atheris completely. The guards continued past on their patrol, and Peri breathed out slowly again.

Atheris peered into one wagon, then another, and Peri assumed he was looking for a wagon whose cargo wasn’t warded, with enough boxes and bundles to conceal them comfortably. This assumption proved correct, and when Atheris indicated a wagon and motioned her inside, she climbed in and rearranged the boxes as quietly as she could to make a hiding place. Meanwhile Atheris unwrapped his cut hand and opened the wound yet again, repeating the spell Peri had first seen him use and letting drops of blood fall along the slatted sides of the wagon bed. Peri held her breath again; if the caravan had a mage, as it must surely have, and that mage happened to be awake despite the lateness of the hour, Atheris’s spell might be detected. But no alarm was raised, and Peri helped an utterly exhausted Atheris into the wagon, quietly moving the boxes again so they were completely concealed. Atheris slumped back against her makeshift pack, barely conscious.

“I know you’re tired,” Peri whispered. “But I need to know how long your spell—or spells, or whatever—will keep us hidden.”

“Yes.” Atheris’s whisper was barely audible. “The Bone Hunters will not be able to sense us as long as we remain in the wagon. That spell will remain active as long as I remain within its boundaries to feed it with my energies. The spell that allowed us to bypass the guards and magical traps and the like, for that I drew on the power and properties of the Veil—borrowed a bit of it for ourselves, if you will. As long as we remain near the Veil, it will hold firm. But it does not precisely hide us; it only renders us less ... noticeable. So we must be quiet and cautious.”

Quiet and cautious wouldn’t be difficult so long as nobody unloaded the wagon, and the wagon was, after all, traveling west, which was exactly where Peri wanted to go. All right, then. Tiredly Peri stood again, trying to figure the quietest way over the boxes.

“What are you doing?” Atheris whispered. He was so exhausted that his eyelids were fluttering in their effort to stay open.

“We have a little water,” Peri whispered back, “but no food and nothing to treat your wounds. If you’re too weak or sick to cast spells if we need them”—you’re useless to me—“we’re both in trouble.”

Atheris made no answer; he had closed his eyes. Peri didn’t know whether he thought it wasn’t worth his trouble to argue or whether he’d merely passed out, but it made no difference. She’d followed his advice as far as she was going to. She hoped the Bone Hunters would be too busy chasing Tajin to notice her for the time she was outside the wagon.

Peri slipped quietly from the wagon and made her way stealthily to the next wagon, dodging a guard. She started to peer into the wagon but froze as the sound of a throaty snore emerged. Peri grimaced, shaking her head, and moved on to another wagon.

Nobody would trade over the border for something as basic as dried meat, but on a road like this, where hunting would be impossible, a caravan this large would have to have a supply wagon. And that wouldn’t be warded, not when the wards would have to be reset every time somebody wanted a piece of cheese or a skin of wine. After considerable searching Peri found the wagon she was looking for; an old man, probably the cook, was sleeping under it, but she was still able to carefully withdraw enough food for a day or two, a skin of water, and a smaller skin of brandy. Retreating with her booty, Peri nearly collided with a guard, and she huddled against the wagon, heart pounding, for several minutes before she dared move again.

Guilty as a thief, she thought amusedly, then humor fled. Oh, Mahdha, forgive me, I AM a thief. A common thief hiding in a caravan and stealing food. For a moment she shook with self-disgust. Not only was she consorting with a Sarkond; now she’d fallen to thievery. How could she ever raise her head in Bregond again?

Peri’s guilt, however, did not stop her from finding the caravan’s handler and the kit he kept for tending the horses, and liberating some of what she found there.

Is it true theft to steal from outlaws? Would any man or woman in Bregond condemn me for taking what I needed from Sarkonds? Well, yes, they would, at least if they knew it was to feed and tend another Sarkond. But I need him to get home alive.

Atheris was still asleep or unconscious when Peri slipped back into the wagon with her loot, and she saw no reason to try to wake him. She couldn’t tend his wound in the darkness, and she wouldn’t have dared light a lamp even if she’d stolen one, which she hadn’t. If he was hungry or thirsty, he could eat and drink just as easily later. Peri herself swallowed a little water, but exhaustion won out over hunger for her, too, and she curled up as warmly as she could on the hard wagon boards. Tomorrow they’d decide whether it might be safer to abandon the caravan and cross the Barrier on foot or stay with the wagon and wait for the merchants to cross—Peri had her doubts about the wisdom of that; it was always possible that it was the Bregondish merchants who came into Sarkond instead. Tomorrow she’d find out exactly who these Bone Hunters were and why they’d hunted Atheris even into Bregond. Tomorrow she’d decide what she needed to do about Atheris once they crossed the Barrier. Tomorrow she’d ...

BOOK: Waterdance
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