Of Truth and Beasts

She stared across the plain, thinking of the horrors that lay buried and forgotten here, where only a blind tradition forbade the spilling of the blood of the living upon this place.

“What are we waiting for?” Ore-Locks asked.

Wynn didn’t look at him, though he sat at the bench’s far end. Shade rested her head over the bench’s back between them.

Yes, it was time to go, since nothing more could be learned here.

Wynn snapped the reins. The wagon lurched forward along the road through the plain before her eyes and the other one in her memory.

* * *

Chuillyon sat on a horse amid the trees far off from the road. He waited beside Hannâschi and Shâodh, sitting on their mounts.

When Chuillyon had requested Hannâschi accompany him abroad, Gyâr had fumed until Chuillyon explained. Even Gyâr would want to know what some “covert” little Numan sage was up to. Not that Chuillyon would share all he learned of Wynn’s pursuit.

“Why are they traveling by night?” Shâodh asked.

Chuillyon put a warning finger across his lips. He still had not spotted Wynn’s wagon pull out of the forest onto the road.

“Her tall guardian is likely an undead,” he whispered. “Though it would seem he has some method of hiding his nature.”

Hannâschi, sitting on a white gelding, leaned forward to glance at him around Shâodh.

“And you neglected to mention this?” she said.

Chuillyon rolled his eyes and shushed her. “Either you or Shâodh can detect the others. The stonewalker will be the greater problem, if they actually locate the seatt. He can travel in ways that we cannot follow.”

He waved both of them to silence as movement caught his eye.

Wynn’s wagon pulled out of the trees along the road, heading slowly through the plain. Chuillyon waited until it had nearly reached the plain’s far side. He could stop Wynn at any time, but he had no plans to do so—not yet.

“There’s the patrol,” Shâodh said, pointing.

Indeed, the Shé’ith guards emerged from the trees to the north and galloped along the forest’s edge. They pulled up in the grass, waiting. All three nodded in respect to him, and Chuillyon returned his acknowledgment as he urged his mount forward.

Formalities mattered to maintain an image of authority.

“Let them pass unimpeded,” he said.

The patrol leader nodded again. “As you wish, Domin.”

Chuillyon did not want to get too far behind tonight—just enough to let Wynn have her unwitting relief at being free to follow her purpose.

Chapter 18

Wynn stirred in the wagon’s back and sat up, feeling groggy. A whole moon had passed since they’d left Lhoin’na lands. She rubbed her eyes and crawled out of her lean-to canvas shelter. Two facts hit her instantly.

First, she’d overslept. It was fully dark, and they’d normally be on the move by now, traveling during Chane’s waking hours. They’d made good time so far, as winter nights were longer than the days.

Second, she was alone, but this didn’t worry her. The others were likely out foraging again, as their supplies were more than half gone.

Even if Wynn hadn’t had her makeshift map, they couldn’t have missed the head of the Slip-Tooth Pass. Once inside the pass, navigation became unnecessary; they simply pressed south by southeast between the tall ridges on both sides.

No one appeared to use this pass anymore. There was little path to speak of, let alone an actual road. Their way was occasionally interrupted by a depression, a boulder field, or having to locate a place to cross the broad stream that ran along parts of the pass’s floor. Eventually this route would lead them to the northern side of the Sky-Cutter Range. Beyond the leagues and leagues of those immense mountains lay the vast Suman desert.

And they were nearing the end of the pass.

Crawling to the wagon bed’s back, Wynn looked around, hoping to spot Chane or Shade returning. She didn’t, and her thoughts drifted to the previous morning.

The wind had kicked up shortly after nightfall, channeled down upon them by the pass’s high sides. The gale was so strong that the wagon rocked and rain began pelting them. Then the rain turned into hail.

Chane spotted a stone outcrop on the leeward slope and drove the wagon in beneath it. They lost part of a night and the next day but were grateful for any shelter. After Wynn’s companions had gone to sleep, she’d stayed awake past dawn, listening until the patter abated. Then she crawled out in daylight to see what lay ahead.

In the hazy distance were the vast peaks of the Sky-Cutter Range. She’d studied those mountains, so great in size that it was difficult to judge how far they had to go. Finally, she’d settled down, curling up beside Shade in the small shelter on their side of the wagon’s bed, and slept away the rest of the day.

Now she’d awakened alone in the dark.

“Shade?” she called tentatively.