throat-ripping, limb separating. There’s something about me that will turn the smallest lapdog into a raging killing mech, a veritable buzz-saw of hatred and vengeance.”
She laughs, tucks stray hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I guess that’s not funny. I just had this image of you being chased by a pack of toy birdpoodles.”
I sigh. “I get that a lot.” For some reason, I'm starting to trust her.
We climb the ruined tower, Mircada’s bracelets chiming as she hoists herself up the disintegrating stair. Faded runes cover the rock, and I can’t read them—I’m not even sure what language they are. From the top, we can see signs of an ancient rail line that ran along the ridge. A series of stacked, rounded stones mark the way both north and south for the footpath that replaced it.
“Fehris would love this,” Mircada says. “Don’t get him started on it. He’ll probably speculate something about a spice road or a salt caravan, or some sort of elaborate smuggling ring for ancient artifacts.”
“Technically, I think we’re smuggling artifacts.”
“Well, I am,” she says. “I’m still not sure what you’re doing, exactly. Besides looking down my shirt a little, I mean.”
The hair on my face feels like it goes bright red. Damn, I hate that. “Sorry,” I say. “I, um…yeah.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t tell Fehris that, either. He’ll be overjoyed to know he guessed your gender.”
“Is it that hard to tell?”
“No,” she says. She leans toward me a little, tilts her head to the side, and my hearts skip a beat. “Not to me.”
Up here, the air is clear and sharp and the smell of salt coming off the sea reminds me of Tamaranth, despite the cold. I’m not sure what to say to her, so I take out the small eyeglass. In one direction, I can see the Dead storm, still roiling against this mountain range that rings the whole vast region where Tilhtinora came down. The other way is the ocean. The land there runs down to a line of snow-covered trees. The trees spread and grow in height as the elevation descends and the snow tapers off, and then a vast green expanse of hills undulates all the way down to the sea. A whole coastline stretches away to the north and south, a pretty fertile land from the look of it, edged by a thin line of black sand, and a bay that opens up in the distance to the north. The water is dark and grey, topped with whitecaps. A school of pepperwhales works its slow way up the coast, and I show Mircada the tiny spouts of white water through the glass. Off at the western horizon, I think I can make out the glowing of the fluvare we’d flown through in the podship. I’m not sure, and the colors are faint in the daylight, but something nebulous shimmers there, almost out of view.
“What do you think?” Mircada asks.
“They’re Akarii,” I say. “You know it’s only a matter of time before they come for us. There’s a town up to the north, I think, near that bay.” I point.
“Some of their reputation is just reputation, you know.”
“Just some?”
Mircada frowned. “It’s your first time dealing with them, isn’t it.”
I nod. “I’ve fought them as part of a unit, but that’s a little different.”
I raise the glass again and focus in on the bay. A three-masted merchant ship has its sails up, and it tacks its way into the docks. The town must be off-lei, then, or they’d be going in under power. There are clusters of low buildings and several other ships at dock. Smoke rises in thin lines from many of them—another good sign. If the place is off-lei, it means the Akarii can’t call ahead. They might not have people waiting for us.
I hand Mircada the glass. She steps close, and leans against me while she studies the city. She’s awfully warm. “I don’t think we have a lot of options,” I say. “If we can get there quickly, and get out quickly, it might work. The storm doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere, and they’ll have a
She laughs, tucks stray hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I guess that’s not funny. I just had this image of you being chased by a pack of toy birdpoodles.”
I sigh. “I get that a lot.” For some reason, I'm starting to trust her.
We climb the ruined tower, Mircada’s bracelets chiming as she hoists herself up the disintegrating stair. Faded runes cover the rock, and I can’t read them—I’m not even sure what language they are. From the top, we can see signs of an ancient rail line that ran along the ridge. A series of stacked, rounded stones mark the way both north and south for the footpath that replaced it.
“Fehris would love this,” Mircada says. “Don’t get him started on it. He’ll probably speculate something about a spice road or a salt caravan, or some sort of elaborate smuggling ring for ancient artifacts.”
“Technically, I think we’re smuggling artifacts.”
“Well, I am,” she says. “I’m still not sure what you’re doing, exactly. Besides looking down my shirt a little, I mean.”
The hair on my face feels like it goes bright red. Damn, I hate that. “Sorry,” I say. “I, um…yeah.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t tell Fehris that, either. He’ll be overjoyed to know he guessed your gender.”
“Is it that hard to tell?”
“No,” she says. She leans toward me a little, tilts her head to the side, and my hearts skip a beat. “Not to me.”
Up here, the air is clear and sharp and the smell of salt coming off the sea reminds me of Tamaranth, despite the cold. I’m not sure what to say to her, so I take out the small eyeglass. In one direction, I can see the Dead storm, still roiling against this mountain range that rings the whole vast region where Tilhtinora came down. The other way is the ocean. The land there runs down to a line of snow-covered trees. The trees spread and grow in height as the elevation descends and the snow tapers off, and then a vast green expanse of hills undulates all the way down to the sea. A whole coastline stretches away to the north and south, a pretty fertile land from the look of it, edged by a thin line of black sand, and a bay that opens up in the distance to the north. The water is dark and grey, topped with whitecaps. A school of pepperwhales works its slow way up the coast, and I show Mircada the tiny spouts of white water through the glass. Off at the western horizon, I think I can make out the glowing of the fluvare we’d flown through in the podship. I’m not sure, and the colors are faint in the daylight, but something nebulous shimmers there, almost out of view.
“What do you think?” Mircada asks.
“They’re Akarii,” I say. “You know it’s only a matter of time before they come for us. There’s a town up to the north, I think, near that bay.” I point.
“Some of their reputation is just reputation, you know.”
“Just some?”
Mircada frowned. “It’s your first time dealing with them, isn’t it.”
I nod. “I’ve fought them as part of a unit, but that’s a little different.”
I raise the glass again and focus in on the bay. A three-masted merchant ship has its sails up, and it tacks its way into the docks. The town must be off-lei, then, or they’d be going in under power. There are clusters of low buildings and several other ships at dock. Smoke rises in thin lines from many of them—another good sign. If the place is off-lei, it means the Akarii can’t call ahead. They might not have people waiting for us.
I hand Mircada the glass. She steps close, and leans against me while she studies the city. She’s awfully warm. “I don’t think we have a lot of options,” I say. “If we can get there quickly, and get out quickly, it might work. The storm doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere, and they’ll have a
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