Taking Flight

There were a dozen wagons; the guard stood beside the seventh in line, by Kelder’s quick count, and they had approached near the ninth. “This way,” he hissed, beckoning Asha toward the front of the column.

After all, there were more wagons in that direction, even if it was farther to go.

The head on the eighth wagon was facing the opposite direction, but Asha shook her own head no; the hair was wrong.

The next faced them, but again, Asha indicated that it was not the one they wanted. They were both tiptoeing now; if the guard happened to look up from his whittling, and if he weren’t blinded by the tangle of shadows and torchlight, he would be looking right at them.

The head on the sixth wagon was facing away, and Asha was not completely sure, but didn’t think it looked like Abden.

Kelder was beginning to think they should have turned the other way and checked the tail end first when Asha made a strangled noise.

“That’s it,” she said, pointing. “That’s Abden.”

The fifth wagon was green trimmed with gold, and the Ethsharitic runes on the side said something about someone named Doran of someplace-Ship-something, safe place for ships, something like that; Kelder did not bother to puzzle the whole thing out. It was obviously the name of some Ethsharitic merchant. The pike at the front corner displayed the head of a young man, and Kelder thought there might be some resemblance to Asha, but he wasn’t sure he wasn’t just imagining it.

“All right,” he whispered. “Let’s go back and tell Irith.”

Asha nodded, turned, and began to scamper back.

Her bare feet slapped on the paving stones. Kelder started after her, and had taken perhaps three long steps when something registered.

He turned, and saw that the guard had lowered his knife and carving and was peering out into the gloom, following the sound of Asha’s footsteps.

Kelder decided that he didn’t want to be seen just yet. He fell back into a nearby shadow, under the overhang of a two-story shopfront.

“Irith?” Asha called. “Where are you?”

Kelder hissed to himself with exasperation.

“Irith?” Asha called again, more loudly.

She was standing, Kelder thought, at about the spot where they had separated, plainly visible in the light of the two moons. The guard was watching her intently now.

What’s more, another guard, whom they had not previously seen, had heard the sound and was peering between the wagons from the other side of the caravan. This one was tall and thin, with a black beard that needed trimming-it straggled messily down onto his chest.

There was no sign of Irith.

A cat meowed nearby, and Kelder turned for an instant, looking for the animal, but didn’t see it. He turned quickly back to Asha.

“Kelder!” a breathy voice said behind him, quietly.

He started, and turned to find Irith standing there, finger to her lips.

“How did you…” he began.

“Which one?” Irith whispered hoarsely.

“Which what?” For a moment he thought she was asking something about the two guards, and he tried to figure out what she wanted to know.

“Which wagon, stupid?”

“Oh,” Kelder said, collecting his wits. “The green one, right there.” He pointed.

Irith nodded, and spread wings that had not been there an instant before. “You go distract them,” she said.

Then she launched herself fluttering upward.

Kelder blinked and looked up, watching her ascent.

“Irith?” Asha wailed. “Kelder?”

Kelder frowned; the best distraction was probably the simplest, he decided. He stepped out of the shadows. “Over here,” he called. He trotted toward the little girl, who was standing alone in the street, on the verge of panic.

The first guard had stepped away from the pillar and tucked his carving under his belt. Now he slid his knife into its sheath and picked up the spear. The other guard was between two of the wagons now, facing away, scanning the little plaza on that side of the arcade.

Kelder tried hard not to be seen looking at either of them as he came up to Asha and said, a little more loudly than necessary, “Here I am, Indra.”

Indra was the first girl’s name he could think of, other than Asha or Irith.

“Kelder!” She spotted him, and dashed toward him, arms out.

At least that was one advantage of having the most common name in the World, he thought; nobody was ever going to track him down by using it.

He met Asha halfway and picked her up in a big embrace, then spun her around-which gave him a chance to look at the nearer guard without seeming to.

The man was standing, watching the two of them. He was not looking at the green and gold wagon. Kelder forced himself not to look at it, either. He lowered Asha to the pavement, and then glanced casually at the guard.

That individual was now looking either way along the row of wagons. He might, Kelder thought, have guessed that this little scene was being played out to distract him.