Seeklight

“You’ve got a great big quest you’ve been on, don’t you? Always had it, born with it. I mean, you’ve got a reason for taking another step, for picking things up, putting them down, eating, sleeping—whatever it takes to find out what happened with the last thane. Your father.” He swiped clumsily at the strands of hair plastered with sweat to his forehead. “Well, you’d better hope you find all the answers you’ll ever want at the end of your quest, or you’ll wind up just like real people—dead, or dead on the inside but still aching. With no quest to make your life seem like it’s worth living.” He fell silent, then picked up the bottle again. “Well, enough talking of what you wouldn’t know anything about.”

Daenek switched off the light and remained sitting upright in the dark. The sound of Lessup’s drinking continued for a while, then ended with a smash of glass as the bottle hit the wall.

Chapter XX

“Did you hear something?”

“No.” Rennie pushed another stick into the fire. Its light glinted off the narrow stream they were camped beside. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s your turn to watch.”

Daenek pulled the blanket up to his neck and rolled on his side. The tops of the trees blotted out a ragged section of stars.

He yawned, feeling a pleasant ache relaxing in his legs. The first day’s trek had gone well, reminding him of the time—ages past, it seemed—when he had wandered over the hills near the stone-cutters’ village. Rennie had led the way, consulting the seeklight, its tiny jewel-like light glowing in the shade of the moss-tangled trees. Lessup had kept up with them all the way, his lean face set with determination and sweating a great deal.

Towards noon, though, he had caught Daenek’s eye, signalled OK with his thumb and forefinger, and grinned.

Tomorrow, thought Daenek drowsily. Maybe by this time tomorrow. My father’s palace, and I’ll know.

The next morning they set out early, following the stream for a little distance. It shortly meandered off to the north, away from the direction indicated by the seeklight. Just as they were about to plunge back into the forest’s thick underbrush, Rennie turned, scowled and said something under her breath. “What’s the matter?” said Daenek. “I left something back where we slept. My flashlight.” She pushed past Daenek and Lessup, heading back upstream. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder. “Just wait for me.”

The two men sat down at the edge of the forest’s shade.

Daenek watched some type of bird he had never seen before perch on a flat rock in the middle of the stream. The bird poked into the water with a forked twig held in its beak. It didn’t catch anything, and flew away in a flurry of scarlet feathers, leaving only the sound of the water gurgling against the stone.

Then that small noise was gone, too, swallowed up and extinguished by a scream that tore open the still air. Daenek and Lessup scrambled to their feet as the echoes from upstream died like sobs.

Daenek readier her first, with Lessup running just behind him. Rennie seemed to be sleeping on her side, with the stream only a few feet away from her outstretched hand.

He touched her shoulder and, as if awakening, she rolled onto her back. A wave of blood pumped over his hand, welling from a diagonal slash that ran from her throat into her stomach.

Daenek froze, then, without thinking, knelt and pressed his hands to the wound, but the blood kept coming, streaming between his fingers.

“No,” he heard Lessup say in a high, strangled voice behind him. Daenek jerked his head around and saw the other’s face, drained white with shock, the eyes staring past him at the figure on the ground.

“Not—” He backed away, whipping his head from side to side.

As he turned to run, Daenek reached for him with one of his stained-red hands, but Les-sup eluded his grasp and darted into the forest.

Slowly, his mind frozen into a red eternity, Daenek turned back to Rennie, Her eyes opened and a moan broke through her pale lips. “It hurts,” she said in a voice like a small child’s. “It hurts so much.”

He touched her cheek. “Don’t move.”

Something wet traced through the red smear Daenek’s hand had left on her face. “I can’t even see you,” she said. The voice was very weak, a thread. “It hurts, don’t go away—”

Her mouth fell open and the side of her face rolled against the ground. Daenek stood up. His clothes were heavy with blood and clung to his skin. Something was in his hand. He opened his fingers and saw that somehow he had picked up the seeklight.

Looking up from it, he saw the edge of the stream becoming threaded with scarlet.

At last he turned away and walked slowly into the forest. Only a few meters away he found Lessup’s body, twisted in a growing pool that seemed black in the darkness of the trees. On the face was the same expression of shock and horrified disbelief.