Taking Flight

At least, that was why Kelder was doing it; Asha had apparently lost track of what she was supposed to be doing, and acting on impulse. In her excitement over finding Abden’s head she had completely forgotten everything else about the plan. That was fine, really; she was doing an excellent job of being a distraction, and probably acting far more naturally than she would have if she had remembered.

They did not, however, want the guard to realize he was being deliberately decoyed.

The other guard, Kelder noticed with a twinge of concern, was not in sight at the moment.

Spear in one hand, his other hand on the hilt of his sword, the visible guard was peering into the darkness.

“Looking for something?” Kelder called.

Startled, the guard turned to look at him silently for a second, and then shook his head. He said nothing.

“I’ve lost my wife,” Kelder said, pressing on. “The girl’s sister. She’s tall, with black hair, wearing a green tunic and a brown skirt-have you seen her?” He tried very hard to ignore Asha’s expression of surprise as she heard him tell such lies.

The guard shook his head again.

“You’re sure?” Kelder insisted.

“Haven’t seen anybody,” the man said, in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. “Except you two.”

“Well, if you do…” Kelder began.

“Excuse me,” the guard said, interrupting, “I’ve got rounds to make.” He began walking along the line of wagons, stooping every so often to peer under them, occasionally poking his spear into the shadows. He called something Kelder didn’t catch, and was answered by a deeper voice from the other side.

Kelder was very relieved indeed to see that the near-side guard had started out toward the back of the line, rather than the front. He hoped the other one had, as well.

“Well, if you see her,” Kelder shouted after them, “tell her we’ll meet her at the inn.” Then he turned away, taking Asha by the hand and pulling her along.

“Kelder,” Asha said, starting to protest.

He jerked viciously at her wrist, and she followed without further objection.

He led her quickly around a building, into an alley and out of the guards’ sight. Then he stopped, held a finger to his lips, and peered cautiously back around the corner.

“What is it?” Asha asked.

Kelder waved a hand at her, and she fell silent.

The heavier guard had reached the last wagon; the one with the sloppy beard met him there, and the two exchanged a few words-Kelder could just barely hear their voices, and could not make out any at all of what was said.

Above the arcade, orange moonlight shone briefly on a fluttering white wing, and a shadowy shape rose toward the heavens, something vaguely round cradled in one arm.

Kelder smiled.

“All right,” he told Asha, “now we go around the block and run for the gate, as fast as we can. Irith has the head.”

“You’re sure?” Asha looked up at him doubtfully.

“Just go,” Kelder said, giving her a shove.

He was destined to be Asha’s champion, but that didn’t mean he had to like her, and just now, tired and frightened as he was, he did not think much of her at all.

Chapter Seventeen

To Kelder the double moonlight on the desert sand looked somehow unnatural. It was brighter than moonlight had any right to be, even when both moons were full and at zenith-and in fact, that wasn’t the case. The moons were both past zenith, the lesser descending quickly toward the western horizon, the greater still high overhead, and neither was full-the lesser was close, but the greater was only about three-quarters. The familiar rosy glow of the moons combined with the gold of the sands to make an odd, burnt-orange color that Kelder didn’t like at all. “Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for sunrise?” he asked.

“Come on,” Irith said, “let’s get out of here!”

Asha said nothing, but she obviously agreed with Irith; she was tugging at Kelder’s sleeve. Reluctantly, he came.

“I can see why you’re in a hurry, Asha,” he said. “You want to set your brother’s soul free. But I don’t know why you’re rushing so much, Irith.”

She glanced back over her shoulder; the city wall gleamed ruddily in the moonslight, and the open gates were a tangle of torchlight and shadow. She thought she saw something moving, and wasn’t sure if it was just a flickering shadow, or really someone there.

“Let’s just say I don’t much care for Shan on the Desert any more,” the Flyer replied.

“Is it because that inn was gone?” Asha asked.

“No,” Irith answered.

“It’s that old drunk, isn’t it?” Kelder said. “Or at least that’s part of it. But I don’t see why he has you so upset.”

“It’s not him, either,” Irith said, with another glance behind.

Kelder looked at her, then turned his gaze to his feet and trudged onward through the cool orange sands.

She was lying, he was sure. It was the drunk.

They had gone no more than a league when the lesser moon set; the greater moon was working its way toward the horizon, as well. Color faded from their surroundings, and Kelder began to worry.

“Are we still on the highway?” he asked.