A Lar by any other name

Here is the second part of the story I posted a couple of weeks ago. Was hoping to have pics to go with it (as I'm playing around with inserting Media in my documents for the fun of it) but am going to have to do it another way than I was thinking I could do it. Maybe later!

Title: Through the Seasons: Part Two - Intertwining
Fandom: Original - The World
Main Characters: Marley, Gilliam, Tanis, Truly, Rylan
Word Count: 10353

Part Two - Intertwining
(Forty-Third Year of King Halland the Third’s Reign - Harvest Season)


The spiders had been busy in between the four walls of the ruin but Gilliam would not be deterred by such a little thing as silk threads meandering from floor to ceiling in an elegant drape. The night air was unseasonably chilly no matter that the suns beat down on this part of the country with an intensity it lacked in many other places. Any little bit of cover would benefit him this night as the frost covered everything in its path.

“Come,” he commanded to the large cat sitting in the shadows of the doorway. “There’s nothing here that you should be afraid of. You could strip me of my flesh in a few seconds. Sleeping in dust and debris for one night will not harm you.”

“Says you,” murmured the cat. The sounds he made were barely discernible in the still night as he made his way delicately across the room to stand beside the tall man. “I think I’d rather deal with the weather and freeze out in the open. You can’t think this will be of any help.”

“It might. We won’t know until we wake up in the morning. At least here I know that we will wake up.”

The stare-down between man and beast stretched on, neither one of them wanting to give ground on this argument. When the cat growled low in his throat and turned away, Gilliam went back to finding a clean place to set his pack. There wasn’t many options. In the dim light of the last suns rays, he could see that nothing had lived here in a very long time.

In a land of war, it was not unusual to find such shelters. Most often, he and Stanislas stayed clear of places like these. They held ghosts of their former occupants. Raiding them was unthinkable even though Gilliam was finding his stores growing light. The fighting had died down of late but it was still hard to come by food that wasn’t desperately needed by those who grew it. No one had any to spare a traveler with no Talent but that of a bit of taletelling and the occasional tune on his small flute.

“Will you go hunt before sleeping?” he asked the cat.

The animal shrugged without turning to acknowledge the question. “Go hunt yourself. Or we could eat some of the spiders that seem to inhabit this place. They might make a nutritious meal.”

“Fah,” Gilliam grunted in disgust even though he knew the animal was jesting. “I don’t favor any creature that travels on more than four legs. That does leave you, my friend. Go find something or I will be forced to eat the last of the bread and you will go without.”

“Fine. But eat your moldy bread for I don’t think I feel like bringing you back anything.”

Gilliam wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt being here alone now that Stanislas had stalked out into the night air. There was no wind or he was sure he would have been assaulted by the biting chill of night even through the rickety boards that were holding into place with a valiant effort as time and weather conspired against them. The roof was no better but it was a relief to not have to worry as much as he did while out in the open. Even after all these years, staying out in the open wasn’t the easiest way of spending his life.

But it was the best way. He had to admit that to himself every time he lost food to predators or ran to put distance between himself and something that decided he might taste good. Caves and shelters like this had become his home. The birds of the air and beasts of the field were his friends. His family consisted of Stanislas.

When nothing jumped out at him, Gilliam let himself relax. He didn’t dare start a fire but he had plenty of moonslight coming through the ceiling to arrange his bag and cloak. Pulling up the hood securely, he waited for Stanislas to come back from his hunting. With luck, the cat would forget about his pique and bring something back that was palatable for both of them to share.


***

(mulled cider) Marley accepted the earthen cup of mulled cider with her last vestige of strength. The day’s journey had been a hard one as the caravan traveled over parts of the trail that weren’t as well-groomed as some of the stretches closer to civilization. It had been hard to choose which was the most comfortable, walking or riding in the shadowy cart. The ground had been so uneven that either option was painful to her joints.

“Drink up, me dear. This will return your vigor like nothing else will.” Null, the old man who drove the cart she rode in, had been charming throughout the trip so far. He always made sure she had plenty to eat and drink which was a good thing considering that the cook had taken a dislike to Marley on the first day. “We’re nearing the end. This will be a dream soon.”

“Don’t I wish.” She took a drink and started coughing as the liquid seered a path directly to her stomach. “That was a bit hotter and stronger than I thought it would be.”

He grinned at her, his crooked teeth dancing along with his laughter in her wavering vision. “Made it with a bit more of the good stuff. Just for you.”

She thanked him but only to see if he’d leave her alone. This good stuff of his had never agreed with her but every time she’d tried to convince him of that, he’d only taken offense or told her she just needed to get used to it. It would do her a world of good. The only thing that would truly do her a world of good was to get to the end of this journey.

The caravan was small but it was safer, she’d been assured by the man at the Tierra Foundation who had booked her passage. It would move faster than a group of more carts but still have the same defenses. To date, Marley hadn’t seen much of this defense that had been talked about. The trail master had a menacing looking gun nearly as long as he was tall and she’d noticed several of the drivers had swords sheathed near their seats. She’d thought that maybe the army would protect them from the pockets of insurgents. After all, they were the ones who’d fought a successful campaign against the very same people.

All the news reports had stated that the Southern Tribes were accepting their defeat graciously. After only a year and a half of fighting, they’d been soundly beaten by the King’s troops and were now supposed to be learning how to live under the King’s rule once again. Considering that this wasn’t the first caravan to travel this route since the end of the official fighting, it was supposed to be working. So far there hadn’t been anything but a sighting of insurgents off in the distance. That didn’t mean that Marley was comforted.

But worrying about what might bar their way wasn’t what was draining Marley of her energy. It wasn’t even the constant traveling, either by foot or in her bumpy seat on the cart. In an effort to pacify the cook, a diminutive woman with rheumy eyes and a mouth always twisted into perpetual frown, Marley had taken it upon herself to keep the caravan supplied with fresh greens and smaller vegetables that could be added to the perpetual stew that they all ate for the evening meal.

At first, it had been an easy enough task. As they started their trek further into the Southern desert, Marley realized her mistake. Now she understood the smirk the cook had given her the first time she’d ever handed over a basket full of flora. “Won’t last long,” was the only comment she ever received back. No praise. No gasp of awe at her aptitude for growing things. Instead, she heard people complaining that she was trying to grow things where they should not be grown.

It was true that she was trying the impossible. Even she had admitted the fact to herself once or twice. The warm sand was devoid of water in most every place she stopped on her scouting expeditions. It would some times take her all day just to find a place where there was enough moisture to sustain the seeking roots of her plants. Most of the time she had to hurry the growing so that she could walk back to the cart before it left her too far behind. This sort of growth sapped her energy, contrary to the normal surge of growth her Talent was used to supplying.

And just when she thought she had given all of herself, that there would be no more expeditions out into the smothering heat of midday, the cook would smirk and she would be able to see the “I told you so” behind her expression. There was no way she could turn away from that without the handy excuse of “I’ll try harder tomorrow” trailing in her wake.

As she woke up a little, the sweet drink doing its work quickly, she became aware of an intense conversation to her left. She looked deep in the dregs of her cup, hoping she could hide her obvious interest.

There had been little time to learn about her fellow passengers on the trip so far, but she’d been able to discern small facts around the evening fires. These two were sisters even though they looked nothing alike. One was fair with wide blue eyes that looked out at the world with a vague air of disinterest. The other had hair as red as the Varrl tree’s leaves in the Sleeping Season and skin that didn’t seem to absorb the warmth of the suns. Of the two, she made the most attention. Tonight, she seemed interested in the landscape.

“They told us there would be trees. Why lie to us? It’s not as if we had a choice. But I would have liked to know the truth of the matter before we set out.”

“Truly, you’re making my head ache. Leave it be. The lack of trees won’t kill you.”

Marley glanced up in time to catch the starting of a pout on the redhead’s face. It disappeared quickly as if she suddenly remembered she was around people who might read her emotions on her face. If she’d had the strength, Marley would have done the same. As it was, she didn’t figure anyone could read anything but exhaustion on her face most of the time.

“But Rylan, this is going to be our home. Don’t you want-”

“I want to go back to where we were. This isn’t going to be our home. It’s going to be our prison. You wanted to start over. I was dragged into this.”

“Don’t bring that up again. You came of your own free will. Turn back if you want. I won’t force you-”

“Just forget it, okay? I’m just tired of discussing trees with you. If you want to talk about plants, go see the Plant Lady. I’m sure she’d enjoy having someone to talk to after her day out with nothing but the crickets to keep her company.”

Interesting to hear her nickname come up in conversation. Marley had heard it on one of the first nights she had come back from foraging. It had brought tears to her eyes then; now she merely smiled sadly. She had once been a Yellow One. Now she was a Plant Lady, as if her skills were insanity and she was no one important. It was wearying to be laughed at.

“Don’t call her that. Her name is Marley Wilde and they say she’s a great Talent. Or was once. Why a Yellow would want to come into the desert is beyond me.”

“Maybe she’s running from something. A lost love, perhaps?”

Truly laughed and Marley found herself grinning at the sound. It had been quite some time since she’d heard such unfettered joy. Not since she’d left Chloe.

“Always the romantic, aren’t you? Why can’t it be for something practical. Something better than a man disappearing from her life.”

“Or a woman. One never knows about those Warm Sects.”

Marley had to choke back a laugh. That explained a lot. If the sisters were from the Cool Sect then of course they would see her as an oddity. Most of the group traveling south was from that other class of Talents that Marley viewed with some derision. Johnny had been the first that she’d spent much time with... and that didn’t end all that happily.

The King was a Indigo Talent which is one of the reason for the Cool Sect feeling a bit more superior over the rest of the kingdom. His daughter, the Princess Rhillian, was a proficient enough Indigo although it was widely reported that she was never sent a chartered school. The Queen had died when the girl was only ten and that seemed to have disrupted the Royal Family so much that the time had passed by for her to be sent off... and the fault was never repaired. Of the Princes, Marley had never of a particular Talent. She’d just always assumed they’d followed their family path.

Seeing as she was suddenly so fixated on remembering what Talent the Princes might possess, Marley completely missed the girls taking their leave of the group still hovering near the fire. It had burned down to ashes which usually suggested that those gathering should think about heading back to their bedrolls. Tonight very few seemed so inclined. The mulled cider had been passed about quite liberally and the noise level was increasing. This was not a party Marley wanted to be a part of and she hurriedly took her empty cup over to the dish tubs.

“Thank you, Ta.”

Marley turned back to the dish tubs, surprised to see that there had been a girl in the shadows. The cook had several helpers but this was the smallest, thinnest of them all. It was a wonder she could work as long and as hard as she did with the stick-like arms poking from the worn top she wore each day, but Marley had witnessed her feats of strength as she lifted sudsy tubs and boiling pots.

“You’re most welcome.” She expected her returned greeting to be shied off but the girl walked out of the shadows and smiled.

“Far be it for the cook to thank you for your contributions each day. She has been a bitter woman since I’ve known her and I doubt little short of a miracle could change her now. But the food has been much more palatable these last few days as our stores start to wane. It would be a shame to have you exert all this energy for us and not once be acknowledged.”

Marley ducked her head at the high praise. “It’s nothing. I’m quite used to it. My goodwill, thankfully, does not depend on the good graces of others.”

“As it should be. Sleep well.”

“And you.” Marley nearly staggered as she turned to leave the gathering area. It was time for her to sleep or she would not have the energy to rise when the first dawn’s call came.

***

(fireflies creating an incredible ballet of soft light) A mass of fireflies hovered over the ground, intent on their dance. The soft light they gave off in their wild abandon was nearly strong enough that Gilliam could read the small book he’d pulled out of his pocket. It was a struggle to make out the meaning of the strange symbols and sigils but he persisted. One day he wanted to know what exactly his treasure meant.

“If we were out in the open, we could have a real fire,” the cat murmured as he got up and rearranged his bedding. The bits of old clothing he’d found in the corner of the ruin had definitely raised his esteem of the place. “With only the light from those bugs, you’re going to ruin your eyes.”

Gilliam snorted but pocketed the book. He kept it with him at all times even if it was only gibberish. All except the name written on the front page. Madeleine Fortesaine Gilliam. His mother. She had read to him from the book when he was young. When he had left his home for the last time that fateful day, he’d snuck it into his bag. The love he felt for her when he opened the book was still tampered by the bitterness that would well up when he thought about being forced from his home. She could have kept him with her. She could have saved him no matter what those men said.

A sharp set of claws racked lightly over his arm, bringing him back to the present. “Quit thinking about it.”

“Who said I was thinking about it?” He tried to keep his voice light but it was difficult. His nightmares had made his throat tight and he found he was still having trouble swallowing.

“Because you didn’t retort back like you do when I bring up your poor eyes.”

“You may still have the clearest vision of the two of us but I can best you in every other skill. Care to try me?”

Stanislas snorted in disgust and tucked his head between his back feet. “Sleep now.”

Taking his cue from the animal he had chosen as his partner in this life of roaming, Gilliam wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and leaned back against the only wall of the ruin that was still sturdy and strong. With this behind him, he was a bit less reluctant to have both of them fall asleep at the same time. It didn’t hurt that there were a few traps and pitfalls awaiting anyone or anything that might want to catch them unawares. He couldn’t be the only thing that might find a use for this long discarded relic.

***

“I don’t think you should be going out this morn. You’re pale and trembling.”

Marley dismissed the kind gesture. “I have to,” she croaked, her voice barely more than a grunt as she forced the sounds through a throat that felt gritty, as if she’d been drinking sand in her dreams. “We need greens.”

“We can survive without your greens.” Tanis advanced when she was too busy shaking her head to get the buzzing in her ears to stop. Before she knew what was happening, Marley was being pushed back onto her pallet. “You need a day of rest. It’s overcast. Wouldn’t that make your job harder to accomplish?”

As she looked up, Marley thought for a moment she was looking at Chloe. When had her pale-haired friend arrived at that caravan? With a cry of joy, she put her arms out as if to embrace the woman hovering over her. The reality of the situation crashed down on her as she found she couldn’t convince her arms to stay in that position more than a few seconds and her brain reminded her that this was Tanis, one of the women she shared a cart with on the caravan she was a part of. While she was blonde, she didn’t have the etherial beauty of Chloe. In fact, her hard features made her seem constantly irritated although she had proven to be a very nice woman. “When will we get there?” she asked, petulant as a toddler.

“Soon enough. Although, I don’t know if it will be soon enough with you.”

A flash of light caught Marley’s eye. The caravan had been beset by strong winds the last few days now that they were out of the shelter of the bare hills they had come through. As tough as the cart’s covering was, it had still acquired numerous rips and tears. A bit of brightness had come through one of the holes as one of the suns succeeded in getting away from the clouds that endeavored to keep their light hidden. Putting all of her energy into the motion, Marley reached up and fingered the bit of brightness on Tanis’ wrist.

“Pretty. Like Chloe’s.”

The circlet was nothing like Chloe’s thin band with clanking attachments shaped like different kinds of leaves. This bracelet was a tangle of burnished strands of metal. Each was a different color and thickness and wove around each other until it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Marley touched it, marveling at the beauty of the object before letting her hand sink down to her side. Her eyes closed and she was unaware of the cart’s progress onward.

***

“Will we spend a third night here? Are you growing comfortable in this luxury?”

Gilliam grunted as the cat sat across the circle of boards and belongings that Gilliam had used to create a ring of protection. The wind had begun to howl in the last few hours and neither creature had any desire to leave the ruin. But it was worse for Gilliam. He knew he ought to begin moving again but he couldn’t seem to convince himself that leaving would be a good thing. Something was keeping him here when his senses told him that leaving would be the best option. To stay too long in one place was to invite predators as he lost the edge of surprise.

“We cannot stay here much longer.” Stanislas began licking his huge paws but it was in agitation and not because he felt relaxed in any way. “This wreck grows less protective every day.”

“What you say is true but... look.” In way of explanation, Gilliam handed over a piece of bark from the tree outside what had once been the front door. “Do you see it?”

“See what? The beetles have been at work.”

“Here in the sand and wind and sun? No, this wasn’t created by any beetles. This was from the spirits.” On the wood was a sigil like that on the cover of Gilliam’s book. It looked at if it had been created over time, left to the animals and weather to create. The soft curved lines of the first few characters looked natural, as if they truly belonged. What caused Gilliam to shiver in terror every time he looked down at it was the unnatural lines that seemed to be carved into the rough bark. The lines bit down deep into the wood, like an irritated man had come along and hacked at it with a knife.

“No spirits care about you. Haven’t I told you that I would be able to see them if they did appear? You worry too much.”

“And you don’t worry enough.”

That was a profoundly untrue statement but it was a part of their normal argument. In times of stress or boredom, this was their normal spat. This time, Gilliam seemed less incline to laugh off the jibes of the cat. Instead he gently put the piece of bark back down beside him where it would be safe and began to systematically keep watch.

“We’ll be safe,” he chanted over and over again. “It says we’re to wait.”

Stanislas continued to clean his fur, taking especial care on the patch over his chest. The cream blaze there was the only interruption in his dark brown coat and he liked to keep the fur clean so that it lay down correctly, showing off the nearly perfect five-sided star. The human he traveled with was not nearly as impressed with it as many of the other animals he had so far encountered on the journey. That was not why he stayed with the human, though.

At his birth, the head of his clan had proclaimed that Stanislas would make a great journey quite unlike any of the other cats. His clan was not known for their foraging far from the caves they had set as their territory. Because he had always known he would be different, Stanislas set out to be different. He kept his claws sharpened to take on whomever wanted to see if they could best him in competition. For many cycles of the moons he studied with the Wise One of the clan to learn how to read the stars and portents that were all around if one knew how to read them properly.

This human was not the sort he imagined he would be pared with but this had been the first to find their caves and had succeeded in getting past the guards to achieve the inner rooms were the head of the clan holed up at all times. And, most importantly, this human understood him. At first he hadn’t seen that as much of a skill but traveling in the human lands had taught him that he was rarely heard to make anything but noises. There were a few humans he had encountered who might be able to make out a few of his words. None as proficient as this one, though.

But this human had odd ideas. He saw signs in things that weren’t signs, reading in ideas that Stanislas had never heard from the Wise One. It was mildly irritating in the best of times. Now, when he felt very clearly they should be moving on, it was idiotic. But one thing about Gilliam - he would not be moved when he felt he was right. They had battled once for supremacy in just such a stand off. The defeat had been a blow to Stanislas’ ego, one which he hadn’t forgotten about nearly as easily as he let on. If the human wanted to wait for his demise, he could. Stanislas would defend him with most every breath in his body but would reserve the last for his own survival.

Because of this promise he had made to himself when he started, Stanislas was also aware of what was going on in the room... as well as outside of the walls. He could have told the human about the birds that had settled in the eaves above them. They didn’t seem to be like normal birds they had encountered so far. He wouldn’t have wanted to try to catch them for his dinner.

There was also a large group of animals that were circling the enclosure at regular intervals. He had scented them a few days ago but hadn’t gotten a glimpse of them to know if they were much of a threat or not. He thought not considering that they hadn’t attacked yet.

The others he scented wouldn’t prove more than a nuisance. He could handle those if, and when, they came. The human wanted to stay here so they would.

Gilliam barely noticed the cat finishing his washing as a howl danced through the air. It didn’t start out very loud but the mournful howl was not something that needed a lot of oomph behind it. Something was letting something else know something important. The sound paralyzed by human and animal. All they could do was stare into the dark that surrounded them and wonder what was making that noise and who else was listening.

Before either Gilliam or Stanislas had a chance to react to the prolonged howl, the attack began. Gilliam had time enough to leap to his feet and grab for the long stick he kept within his reach at all times. The first animal leapt at him, demanding a counter-attack or complete withdrawal. He could make out long limbs with equally long claws but everything else about the animal was a blur. With practiced ease he used the stick to parry most of the blows from the paws that seemed larger than his head but one caught his arm, shredding the thick wool of his overshirt and leaving behind four bloodied trails.

His scream of pain and frustration brought an answered reply from Stanislas but the cat was having his own difficulties. The remaining three animals were circling him, trying to tighten their circle of terror but finding that the cat’s own large physique was more than adequate at keeping the borders of his territory wide around him.

Gilliam had just blocked another blow when the howl shivered through the darkness once again. The animal who had been so intent on him was suddenly gone, a part of the shadows of the ruin. As if he suspected this might be a trick to keep him off balance, Gilliam spun around to see if the attack would be renewed from another direction. There was nothing there. He shivered now that the beasts seemed to be gone.

“They’re gone,” Stanislas panted, his dark sides heaving and wet from his own sweat and nothing more. None of the animals had succeeded in touching him.

The injury to Gilliam’s arm burned as he was now able to give it attention. He pulled away the ruined shirt and peered at the injury. In the darkness he was unable to see just how bad it was but by touch he bound it up with a strip of his cloak.

“Do you still feel safe? Are we still bound here by your superstitions?”

The taunts were low growls that anyone would be hard-pressed to misconstrue as anything but anger and irritation. Still Gilliam didn’t answer. He was now clumsily gathering his possessions from where the fighting had scattered them. At last he sank back down against the wall, his stick across his lap where he could find it when the animals came back.

“We stay here,” he replied wearily as Stanislas butted his head against the man’s shoulder. “I don’t know why. I have no desire to see if those things will come back but neither can I deny that we were led to this place.”

“By what signs? I have seen none of these same signs. Have, in fact, seen everything to the contrary.”

“Then maybe our way departs from each other.”

It was stated simply enough without a plea for understanding. Stanislas huffed, his nostrils flaring with the expelled air and fear. His destiny was tied to this human. To leave now would put him at risk for a renewed attack by those strange animals.

With caution, for his muscles had been strained tonight, the cat paced out a tight circle next to the man until he sank into a heap of dark fur and brilliant eyes.

“So we wait,” he stated simply and put his head on his paws as if he might fall asleep although Gilliam knew neither of them would do much sleeping through the rest of the night. “Tomorrow I’ll see if I can heighten the natural protections of the place. I don’t want to deal with those beasts again.”

***

“She grows no better. The fever has gripped her body and she has no reserves of energy to fight it off.”

Marley turned her head toward the soft sounds. Her mouth was dry or she might have begged for something to drink. She yearned for a cool drink of ice water, had in fact been dreaming about it before she had become aware of her thirst. Not that what she had been doing could be called sleep. She felt detached from her body as she floated abover this overheated reality and visited alternate times and places.

“How could she be so depleted? I haven’t seen anyone deteriorate so quickly.” This voice was softer than the first. Young. It made her think of a stretch of green grass that invited people to collapse on its softness and luxuriate in the feel of the earth.

“It’s this place. There are naturally no green plants. Or haven’t you noticed the desolation? She’s overused her Talent without being able to renew it. If she had a conduit, she might have been successful in this undertaking. They normally travel in groups through the desert so they might help each other get through this depletion.”

“Then why is she alone?” A new voice. Rougher. Happy, though. There was laughter in this voice even for this serious conversation. If the other young one was soft grass, this one was a brilliant flowering bush but with a barrier of small thorns. Deadly for all its beauty.

“I don’t know. Surely they told her of the consequences of her actions. She might have convinced them she could make it alone.” This first speaker was a voice she liked to hear. A vine. Like her Mandama Eristas that she had said goodbye to twice now. She turned her head as if she might be able to open her eyes and see the beautiful vine once again as the words washed over her. “I don’t know her well but she seems the sort to think very highly of her own decisions.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing. Find a conduit which I’m sure is hopeless even in a group this size.”

“How will a conduit help her? She has no more power to funnel through one.”

Marley felt as if she moved her head toward the third speaker as she spoke again, the bush bursting with blooms. “The conduit can find power to move into her. Raw power from the earth, most likely. Even if there are no green things here, there is enough of the power that grows things to be able to restore her Talent. If, that is, the conduit knows how to do such a thing.”

Talent. That word concerned Marley. She wasn’t sure why but it made her hurt to even think of it. There were better things to think of. Green things.

The second person, the soft grass, sighed. “Then we can’t do anything, can we?”

“Keep her comfortable and as hydrated as possible. There is little else we can do for her. Nothing but keeping her body alive.”

“Will there be a conduit at the fort?”

The silence rippled through Marley. She wanted to know more about the fort. More about where they were ultimately headed. More about the end. She liked to think about the end.

There was a sigh rippling the soft grass once again. “I’ll go tell Captain Jeers about her... progress. He’s concerned for the safety of the caravan.”

“The safety of whom? She’s not contagious. Just sick. The only thing that any of the others will feel is a distinct lack of green bits in their stew. From what I’ve heard, that should make many of them much happier, as much as they complain about the bits so far.” There was fire in the first one’s voice. A twisting vine moving away from rocky soil or too much sunlight. A plant with firm roots and an idea of where the best growing conditions were with little use for anything getting in its way.

“Then would you have me say that to him? Tell him he’s an idiot.”

“Wouldn’t do him any harm to know what everyone really thinks of him.”

“Hush. The man thinks we would die without him but let’s not tell him that just yet. Let him know, I suppose, that she is still alive and will stay that way, no matter the distance he travels or the speed that he uses. Do not bring up our hope of the fort. That will just make our progress slower.”

There was a movement of leaving. The soft air against her cheek was a relief but was soon gone, returning the stifling heat about her. A soft cloth, drenched in sweet water, touched her face. Marley flinched away but found that she enjoyed the wetness it left behind.

“Why doesn’t she awake?” the flowering bush asked quietly, her voice barely moving the heat about at all. “She’s not still. Look how much she jumps and mutters.”

“The fever has her in its grip. What she does is not actual waking and she won’t remember any of this when she is well. Have you never had a fever?”

“Never. Neither me or my sister have ever been ill. The teachers at the school think it was because we were good but I know that isn’t so.”

The vine laughed. “I remember that line from my time at school. Don’t look so surprised. I’m not so far from my time at school that I can’t remember. It wasn’t so long ago. Besides, my memories are still sharp. What Talent are you?”

There was a moment of hesitation. “Lilac.”

“Pity. You look like you might have had a bit of the Warm about you.”

“No. None of that.” There was a bite to the flowers as if the thorns were pushing their way toward the listener, straining to bite into flesh.

“Biased? Yet another pity.”

“Truthful. Would you have me wish for something I can’t have? I was born into a household that gloried in their Talent. I wasn’t even tested. They handed me to the Administrators, telling them my name and my Talent.” The bush was burning; the flowers melting in the heat of the anger pouring through the words. Marley flinched away.

“In a way, you were fortunate. For some people, the testing is not an easy ordeal. Were you an able pupil?”

“I did well enough. Nothing spectacular. Not like Rylan.”

“Your sister,” the words were said with laughter around them, “is a more natural Lilac.”

“Yes. You could say that my sister is the true Lilac of my family.”

The coolness of the constant bath of water was refreshing and Marley began to feel less like a dried pod. As the words swirled around her, she began to drift back up into the waking dreams she’d found escape in.

***

Tanis despaired of her duty watching over Marley. She had never been good at watching people die. This was by far the worst case she’d every witnessed. It was one thing to calmly watch over someone as still as if they had already died but this woman muttered and thrashed about as if part of her consciousness still thought it was going about everyday things. In fact, she was quietly expending the energy that was keeping her alive. As the carts bounced along the drifting track, so Marley bounced along the end of her life’s track.

With a bitter laugh, Tanis wiped down the woman’s face yet again and thought of how the two ideas were so closely linked. They would reach Fort Carall in two days span but it was unlikely that Marley would be aware of their arrival. Most likely they would be commissioning a headstone for her there.

It was a pity for Tanis rarely made friends. Her abrasive personality, she had been told, was probably the reason most people walked away from her without waiting to discover what kind of person she really was. At least that’s what she’d been told while she was at school. That was a long time ago. She’d been much more willing to at least try to meet new people and fit into what they were wanting out of a friend. When Marley had been awake she seemed like a nice enough person, if distant and single-minded. She’d been so worried about making up some supposed slight to the trail cook, the crotchety Ter Dirreza, that she hadn’t paid much attention to anyone else.

“I’ve brought the wine.” Tanis watched dispassionately as Rylan pushed open the cart covering and swung herself up even as the cart trundled forward, pushing on to the end of the journey. “There’s not much left so this is it unless someone’s hoarding some without letting the wagon master know about it. Has she gotten any better?”

It was the one question she could count on from either of her young charges when either of them arrived. They were convinced, in their young naivete, that she would suddenly set up and stretch out her muscles, as if she was merely sleeping. It was impossible convince either of them that she would not wake any time soon. Most likely never, but she’d decided not to deal with that now.

“No, she hasn’t. But thank you for your haste. This might add to the nutrients we’re able to give her, possibly lessening the tremors.” As she said this, Tania encircled Marley’s wrist with her own to demonstrate just how skinny the woman had grown in just two days in this delirium.

“We must find something to help her,” Truly responded as she leapt into the cart after Rylan was situated. Where there was an interested gleam in Rylan’s eye, there was an almost desperate one on Truly’s face. “Does the broth from the stew each evening not help?”

“What little bit we can get down her. None of us seems to have the ability-”

There was a shout from outside. Since that wasn’t unusual, there was only a slight interruption in Tanis’ words before she started again. “None of us seems to have the ability to heal which is more the pity since-”

This time the shouting was like a roar as a chorus of voices joined together. The sound was full of fear and desperation. Truly threw herself across the small space of the cart and ripped up the heavy side covering without a thought for keeping their position hidden from whatever trouble may lay outside.

“What’s going on?” she called to a passerby. They ran past, not pausing in their haste to answer her question.

Tugging at her skirt to get her attention, Tanis shook her head. “Don’t ask what you yourself can find out. Use your eyes, child. Never let anyone else’s answer be your own.”

“There’s smoke. It’s not from the caravan but far ahead. A plume of dark smoke as if something is burning. And-” Truly scrambled back with a shout of fright.

“What?” Rylan asked, her hands balled into tiny fists. “What’s wrong.”

The air was ripe with sound. It swirled around the cart and filled them with dread.

“Our caravan has no dogs of any kind”

“That’s no dog.” The driver’s face appeared through the front flap, his skin waxy from his own fright. “We’re under attack by some creature. No one knows what it is. The front few carts are gone, stripped of people and possession as surely as if a swarm of locust were to land there. Not a single arrow was shot.”

“We’re not fighting them?” Truly grabbed for the flap of material again and hoisted it up. “Surely the guns-”

“The guns don’t work. Just for show. No (slang term for the Southern Tribes) would dare attack us. Not with our numbers.”

“Than no human would send these things after us? This isn’t a military action?”

Null shook his head. “No. Their coming this way. We’ve got one choice other than to fall prey to whatever is coming our way. We need to get out of here. There’s not track for us to follow but we can’t trust that they’ll go away before they get to us.”

For an instant, Tanis realized that he wasn’t telling them a plan. He was asking her for her opinion. This man wasn’t used to leading. He was a follower. Probably had been all his life. The girls were too young and Marley, probably the most qualified to make the decision of all of them, wasn’t coherent. Stiffening her spine, Tanis nodded. “Go. Go as fast as you can. Get us out of here, Null. We’ll take our chances out there.”

Before she could even get the words out, Null was getting his whip out and turning the horse. It was bulking, not used to being anywhere but in line behind another cart or in a pen with others of its kind. The wind and sand of the desert scared it but there was no other choice. Using every curse word and exclamation he could come up with, the driver succeeded in getting the horse turned and started in a new direction. Fear from this new task and the screams building to a crescendo around it, the horse bolted.

Tanis fell to the floor of the cart, her hip striking the metal box she’d packed all her provisions. The sharp corner bit deep through the material of her over dress and thick tights, grazing her skin painfully. Her groans were nothing compared to the screams of the girls as they were thrown about.

Truly nearly pitched out the cart before she was able to knot her hands in the heavy material that covered the bench she had been perched on. It had been stapled and those metal clasps proved her salvation as she was able to stay within the cart.

It had been no easier for Rylan who had thought to reach for Marley at the last second to keep her in place. Their combined weight kept them from being flung about the small space but Rylan’s knee had become wedged in the frame of the small bed so that it didn’t move in quite the same direction that the rest of her body did. Her cries of pain were muffled against Marley’s shoulder and blended in with the other screams that still echoed in the distance.

There was no rest for their weary, beaten bodies as Null struggled to find the best course over the shifting sands. Neither the horse nor the cart were meant to take such a course and both were taking a beating.

“How far are we from the fort?” Truly cried as she was finally able to make her way to the floor. She wrapped her thin arms around Tanis, holding on as if the older woman was her anchor in the maelstrom. “Can we make it there before those things come get us?”

“I have no idea in what direction the fort lies. Even if we are headed in the right direction, and I’m not even sure that Null knows where we are going, I don’t know how far we are from the safety it might provide.” Tanis felt as if her head would burst from the jarring it was receiving. While she was away from anything else that might harm her, she was far from comfortable. And far from safe. The bed and other seating were built into the cart base, part of the overall construction. Everything else came after. This meant that it could come apart with all the heavy pounding it was receiving. The construction of the tarp, for instance, had never intended for such abuse. The heavy fabric was tearing away from the nails that held it to the thin wooden arches. The shelves that held some of the everyday items that were needed more often by the travelers had long ago expelled their contents and were now starting to creak and moan as they, too, fought against the nails that held them together.

“As the fire that has burned for centuries in the heart of the earth,” Tanis chanted, reaching out to the metal she could see as well as to that which she could only feel nearby, “burns in you still, stay true. Hold firm even as the mountains protected you for years upon years within their womb. By the guidance of my hand and the... the....”

There was a roaring in her ears that broke her concentration completely. It sounded like water but that was impossible. They could not be near a fast moving body of water in the desert. It didn’t exist. Couldn’t exist.

“What is it?” Truly screamed in her ear but even that sounded far away as Tanis went searching with her Talent. If there was water, there would be trace elements of ore and minerals with it. They would feel different than the metals of this desolate place.

“I don’t know. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before. It’s not water. There isn’t a trace of metal nearby that hasn’t been there since we began our journey through the desert.” Her words came out in spurts as she tried to concentrate on each of them, forming them in her mind before she formed them on her tongue. Every sound was an effort. First and foremost she was using every sense she had to try to figure out what they were near.

“It’s making my skin prickle. Like a thousand gnats are landing on me.” Truly’s hold on her was loosen.

Tanis turned to look at her and noticed her eyes were strange. There was white all around the dark part of the eye. That, too, was different. It was darker and not so round anymore.

“Truly? Truly, listen to me! You have to concentrate on my voice. Listen to my words and not to the sounds around us.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Rylan cried from the other side of the cart. “Truly, what’s happening?”

“Hear your friend? She’s afraid for you, Truly. Listen to her. Listen to her and to me. Nothing else.”

There was a shriek from the horse and a cry from Null and all fell silent and still. Truly slumped against Tanis, her skin clammy and cold. Tanis could barely feel her own heart beating now that the torment had stopped.

“Have we all died?” Rylan asked quietly, her voice cracking from the strain of the trip.

“Not yet,” Tanis whispered, her own throat raw. “Not just yet.”

They were still for several heartbeats, each taking into account all the bumps and bruises they were now feeling. Yes, they had made it somewhere safely but how safe were they really? That was a question none of them would be able to answer until they found out where they were.

“Are you feeling alright, Tru?” Tanis turned to look closely, trying to see if the girl was going to end up like Marley and they would have two dying people on their hands. “Have you hurt something?”

“Can you feel it? It’s beautiful. Like... like shimmery light all over my skin. Even that parts that are covered by my clothing. Rylan, do you feel it?”

Tanis looked over to see if Rylan was as pale as her sister but the girl appeared to be fine if a bit haphazard from the jolting she’d received. “What feels like light?”

Her mouth moved silently as she groped for the words to explain herself. “The air. All around us. It prickles at my skin. And I can hear something. Like humming only very far off. As if it’s just on the edge of my hearing.”

“And you’ve never felt like this before?”

“Never! Oh, Rylan. It’s glorious. I feel as if I could fly if I stood up right now. My feet may never touch the ground.”

Although she wasn’t feeling the same right this moment, Tanis understood what the girl was talking about. She had felt that way once when she was taken into a cave in the Bangrick Mountains. It was the site of one of the largest ore deposits in the kingdom. It had nearly overwhelmed her with the power that surrounded her. It stood to reason that Rylan would be feeling the same reaction since the two of them were both Lilac Talents. Maybe, just maybe, the story about her family demanding that she be raised as a Lilac was true because the blonde girl didn’t seem to be fazed at all.

There was a moan from the cot. “That wasn’t me,” Rylan shrieked, sliding off to put some distance between herself and the unconscious woman. “You said she wouldn’t wake up.”

But it seemed as if Tanis was going to be wrong about a lot of things today. One of Marley’s arms lifted up off the cot as if in spasm and then fell back again. It lifted in the air a second time and stayed in place.

“I have fingers again.”

Truly covered up a giggle. “Were you missing them?”

With more speed than she would have thought possible to expend on anything but breathing in and out, Tanis hurried over to the bed. “Marley? Are you awake?”

“I think so. I’ve had some lovely dreams but this doesn’t feel like a dream anymore. I walked through a waterfall and... here I am.”

“How can that be?” Rylan whispered, her voice one step away from breaking into sobs. “What’s happening?”

“Magic,” Tanis and Truly said at the same time, one in horror and the other with glee.

The swish of the cloth away from the side was the first indication that they had visitors. “I’ve come to help,” called a male voice but it was too late. Rylan, still a bit shaky from the breaking news that she was now part of something she always dreaded, attacked before she could stop herself. The thick piece of wood had worked itself free from the shelves and was laying at her feet, an easy reach from her position.

“Hold,” the man shouted as he saw the weapon coming at him. It wasn’t moving fast enough to hurt him but he didn’t try to step away from the swing, only putting up an arm to protect his face. It was a gentle blow, but a blow nonetheless, knocking him away from the cart.

“Rylan, put that down. You’re going to hurt yourself before you actually do any harm.” Tanis’ muscles were stiff as she pulled herself into a crouch. Her leg throbbed from the gash that still slowly leaked blood while the rest of her felt like one large bruise. “Tru, stay here and help Rylan keep Marley on the cot. She looks as if she might get out of the cart and start off on one of her expeditions. I’d prefer if she stayed still until we find out just how healed she really is.”

No one else moved which only served to fire up her ire. She hadn’t bargained for anything like this when she’d started the trip. No one had asked her if she wanted to become caretaker to two young girls and one sick one. They definitely hadn’t gotten her permission to make her the unofficial head of the group.

“Are you hurt?” she called irritably from the edge of the cart. Tentatively, she looked around before jumping down. Either they had come upon a simpleton or there were more men nearby, their weapons posed to attack. It looked safe enough and she would have to assume the best if they were going to find answers. “What were you thinking, coming upon a strange cart like that with nary a thought for your safety? It’s a good thing my friend was unaccustomed to wielding such a large stick or you might have been searching for bandages instead of just dusting the dirt from your clothing.”

“I stated my purpose,” the man replied just as darkly. “Mind you, I should have just left you to your fates. Just so you know, your driver has been stunned and will need help reviving. If you don’t want the service of either me or my companion then-”

“If your companion is as eager to get himself killed as you are then I don’t think we do.” Tanis curled her fingers into a ball, aware that her nails were biting in to the skin of her palm. None of this interaction was going the way she had thought it would. Days of worrying about Marley’s strange condition and now the flight from animals she could only imagine ripping up the other travelers in the caravan were wearing on her. Anger and irritation were the easiest emotions for her to call upon. They were a cloak around her, protecting her abused psyche. It would have been nice to have a workshop available so she could bend some metal until she felt calm once again.

“Fine, we’ll go.” A scream of pain rent through the air. The man’s eyes were wild and Tanis was interested to see how young he suddenly looked. She had thought him to be near her age but now she saw that he was much younger. “Stanilas!” he cried and scrambled up to his feet.

“Tanis!” These scream brought Tanis back to her senses so that she was suddenly aware once again of her duty. “She’s not breathing!”

She had thought Marley was doing better but her spirit sank as she moved the heavy canvas aside. Instead of lying at death’s door, Marley sat on the edge of the cot, her body straining forward as if she wanted to be with Triss instead of clutching to the furniture for assistance. It was Truly that lay on the ground, looking as if her features had been frozen into a mask of pain.

“Help her,” Triss screamed to both of the older women. Tanis could not convince her body to hop up into the cart. What could she do, after all? She was no healer and this whole situation was quickly pushing the bounds of anything she was familiar with.

Because of her hesitation, Marley was the first one to gently pry the girl’s arms away from her friend. Her skin was still clammy and it looked as if all her muscles were shaking from their sudden move from inactivity to furious movement. “Calm down,” she told the blonde girl.

“But she’s not breathing.”

It looked to be true. From where she was still standing, Tanis couldn’t see any sign of life in the young girl. From the front of the cart, she could hear scuffling and muffled grunts of pain. Considering that she could stay where she was and do nothing or walk around to see if her assistance might be helpful elsewhere, she chose the cowards way out and fled to where the man had ran toward.

Null, the driver, was slumped down in the driver’s seat, his skin waxy but still retaining the color of health. The horse was skittish, his eyes rolling around but years of training keeping him in place.

“Tell me who did this. Tell me, Stanislas. What magic is this that is taking you from me?”

Tanis drew back in surprise to see the man cradling a sleek, chocolate-brown cat in his arms. She had seen animals like this near the mountains she had worked when she was younger but never one this close to humans. Not like this where it appeared as if they might be friends. The cat was breathing heavily but there didn’t appear to be any wounds that might have brought him down so quickly.

“Is this your companion?” she asked quietly as she knelt down beside the strange pair.

He nodded, his eyelashes thick with tears that he didn’t seem to be able to shed. “We need to leave. I thought this place would be safe but it appears that something... someone is attacking the protections. I fear that is why your friend is suddenly unconscious. She must be tapped into this place like Stanislas is. We must make haste away.”

Finally something that sounded like a plan - and she didn’t have to think it up. “I’ll help you get your cat into the cart. Do you think you can drive us away from here? I fear that Null will be unable to in his condition, even if he was to wake up soon.”

“I will do what I need to do to keep my friend safe.”

Tanis nodded. She felt shamed that she didn’t feel as strongly about her companions as he did. Irritably, she tried to shove away the unwelcome feeling. “Fine. Let’s get moving before this person is able to do more to harm us.”

***

The lightening crackled as it stayed contained in the clouds, willing to jump out at the mere hint of a suggestion from its mistress. Storms like this were rare in the desert but that only meant that Melissande didn’t visit this dry land often. War had brought her here. Or what the mortals had thought was war. She hadn’t been happy with what they had presented her. There were some spots of trouble but most of the conflagrations had been quickly settled. She had wanted more.

And so she devised a plan to continue the conflict in the area. Her beasts had been freed to play, their movements unhampered by either of the silly armies. This blood that was spilled was in her glory and hers alone. No king would be able to take this glory from her. No ruler able to stop her actions now that she had started.

A bolt of pure energy fell from the sky and struck the earth at her feet as she strode forward. It was one thing to bask in the blood that was spilled for her. Quite another to feel such a surge of energy as was coming from the west. She had known of the traveler and his pet, followed their progress casually about this land, but had never bothered with him. Until now. He was untrained and untested, a complete mystery to her. Quite unlike the citizens of this country that were stripped of all their talents but the one they felt was the strongest. It was severely cultivated to their determent. Who was she to tell of them of their stupidity?

But there had been a spike in the shield he had set up for himself near the Ruins of Fubi. His pet had created a surge days earlier, thinking to keep out her beasts but they had been useful elsewhere. Now she sent them back there, running before her like heralds of hell. Something was amiss. There was power there that she had seldom felt. Power that she wanted.