Chapter 32: Pursuit

What do you say to a friend who has just sold her soul?

Soria hadn’t mentioned anything to them about what had transpired behind the chicken coop. Not with the chickens. Those were of little interest to him. But Soria herself… One minute she had been bleeding to death, and the next she was perfectly fine.

Larean wasn’t stupid. Even if he hadn’t seen the mummified husk of the dead dog when he had walked past it on the street earlier that morning, he would have known such rapid healing couldn’t have come from the Deepwell. Even the most experienced Flow Walkers couldn’t do it that quickly, and Soria had been in shock and in and out of consciousness. It simply wasn’t possible she could have healed herself like that.

Which left only one other option, as far as he knew—she had made a deal with Patera. And when it came to contracts with the gods, a payment of souls was usually required.

Pelam probably didn’t know, though. The Agerian had never shown any real interest in magic, and Larean guessed he didn’t know enough about the Deepwell to fully understand the implications of what he had seen. Or worse, he didn’t care.

It wasn't as though he could blame Soria for her decision. If he had been in her shoes, chances were he’d have made the same choice. Live or die, there really was not much of a choice there. Not if you wanted to live, that is. Which he did.

Still, the gods hadn’t exactly proven themselves to be on their side lately. Pelam was still filled with hatred after his devastating encounter with Mardocar back in Cloverheart, and the revelation that Cairn had been killed on Patera’s orders probably didn’t endear her to Soria.

Given that, her choice probably came with some regrets, now that the deed was done. It wasn’t like it could be undone. A deal with the gods where you paid with your soul was eternal and unbreakable. Everyone knew that much.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, curious about more than her physical health.

She turned her head to look at him. “I’m good. A little tired, but I don’t think any of us got much sleep last night, so that’s probably the reason.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. Larean could feel the exhaustion weighing him down. They had stayed hidden behind the coop until a few hours before sunrise, resting and making sure Soria got the support she needed.

Once the villagers had put out the fire at the garrison and gone back into their homes, he had left their hiding place to look for something to eat. Sneaking along the dark streets, he had found carrots growing behind a shed, and four large graylings hanging in a smoker. It hadn’t been much of a meal, but it was enough to sustain them, and it allowed Soria to regain some of her strength in preparation for their journey.

Before sunrise, they had left Dawnlight, well before any prying eyes could spot them. During the daylight hours, they hid in the forest outside the village, sheltered by two large stones that formed something akin to a small cave. He and Pelam had cut ferns and spruce branches to cover the opening, disguising their hiding place as best they could.

Around midday, there had been a few tense moments when they heard soft steps in the moss outside, but whoever had passed by their shelter had not seen them. Probably, Larean thought, they had been goblins. Or quite possibly unicorns.

Then again, the sounds they had heard might just have been hunters tracking their prey. They were hiding out in the middle of the forest, after all.

* * *

When darkness fell again, the three of them left their hiding place and continued their journey toward Terynia. The night was clear and the sky filled with stars, sparkling like ten thousand diamonds in the heavens. He was glad it was high summer, or it would have been much too cold to walk this far at this late hour. But the air was warm and delightful enough, filled with the strong, yet not unpleasant, resinous scents of the pine forest surrounding them. It was so very different from the dusty air he was used to back home.

Ahead of them, Pelam suddenly stopped and held up his closed fist, signaling them to stay quiet. Staring into the darkness among the trees to the side of the road, the hunter pointed at something Larean couldn’t fully see. A shape was moving among the shadows there.

“What is it?” Soria whispered. Learning he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t pierce through the darkness made him feel a little bit better.

“I’m not sure,” Pelam replied, after a long pause. “Could just be animals.”

She seemed disconcerted. “And if it’s not? What if it’s the Imperials?”

“Nothing much we can do about it, if it’s them,” the boy concluded. “If it comes to a confrontation, we can’t win. Not against a Knight Eternal and a Dark Flame, and whatever that fire mage was.”

Yes, she had been scary. And kind of intriguing, too.

“We’ll just have to stay hidden then,” Larean filled in, his voice so low the others strained to hear him. “Make sure we don’t get spotted. Sneak away from them.”

Pelam nodded. “I think you’re right. Lead the way.”

Somehow, Larean thought, the Agerian’s derogatory use of the epithet thief for him had evidently now turned him into an expert cat burglar in the other’s eyes. He wondered if this was the right time to tell Pelam that wasn’t exactly how his two-week-long criminal career had unfolded.

Slowly, they walked along the roadside, hunkered down to avoid being spotted by human eyes. In the darkness, they were almost invisible. But if the sounds Pelam had heard from within the forest, and the shadows they had all seen moving among the trees, had not come from two-legged adversaries, then sneaking would do little to protect them. Whatever was out there might be tracking their scents that very moment.

Or worse, their hearts.

Tiptoeing with their backs bent and their heads close to the ground was tiresome, and after having walked like that for close to twenty minutes, their spines hurt and their calf muscles burned with fire. Eventually, they had to rest and stretch.

“I don’t hear them anymore,” Pelam said. “I think we’ve lost them now.”

Finally, Larean could allow himself to breathe again. He didn’t really care if the things moving in the night, just beyond the range of his vision, were soldiers, animals, or spirits. They felt like threats, no matter what they were.

Beyond that, there was the hidden danger he didn’t dare speak about. If Soria had made a pact with Patera, the god of torture would literally be with them right now, just like she was with that Dina, the Dark Flame working for the Knight Eternal. And that meant the Imperials probably knew exactly where they were.

Then again, if they did know, why hadn’t the three scary people hunting them just found them while they were hiding in the shelter earlier that day? Perhaps, he thought, Patera now saw Soria as an ally and didn’t want to betray her position to their pursuers.

Though, knowing the gods of the world, that kind of altruism did seem like a bit of a stretch.

Two minutes later, Pelam motioned them to stop again. This time, despite the darkness, even Larean could see what the hunter had noticed.

At the side of the road, thirty men’s lengths ahead of them, stood a broken cart filled with barrels and boxes, its right wheel lying flat on the ground beside it. Surrounding it was what appeared to be a family of four, a man and a woman in their late thirties together with their two children, lit by a flickering torch held by the mother. The state of their clothes told him they were poor. It was quite possible all their worldly belongings were in the boxes on that cart.

Not wanting to startle the travelers, who were busy inspecting their broken vehicle, Larean decided to speak up.

“Hello,” he said, trying to sound harmless.

He could see the father jerk, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand, and turning around to face them.

“Who goes there?” the man called, still unable to see them in the deep darkness beyond the torchlight.

Larean and Soria stepped into the light and slowly approached the family, with Pelam reluctantly following behind.

“We’re on our way toward Tagglemouth,” Larean said, careful not to reveal their names, and only mentioning the next major stop on their way rather than their final destination. By now, he had learned his lessons.

I hope you’re proud of me, Soria. I’m a quick study!

“Hello,” the man greeted them in return, visibly relaxing at the sight of them. For once, their slightly-less-than-intimidating look was to their advantage.

“If you’re going that way, you should be careful. There are wolves around.”

Pelam nodded. “So that’s what they were. I thought as much, but I wasn’t sure.”

The mother looked at him, her face steeped in concern.

“You’ve seen them? They’re here?”

“We saw something,” Soria replied. “We don’t know what it was. We didn’t hear any howling.”

The father of the family seemed to contemplate that.

When he spoke up, there was some uncertainty in his voice. “Yeah, they’re acting strange. They’re hunting something, I think.”

Pelam and Soria exchanged a silent glance. Larean didn’t want to know what they were thinking. He was fairly sure he already did, and he didn’t like the implications.

“Can you help us?” the poor man asked. “The wheel came off our cart. I fear what will happen if the wolves catch up to us.”

Larean was just about to offer their assistance when Pelam spoke up.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have time.”

Soria nodded in agreement. “I’m afraid we’re very late to Tagglemouth.”

Larean didn’t want to contradict them, but he couldn’t just leave the travelers there as snacks for a band of frenzied wolves.

“You go ahead,” he told his companions. “I’ll help with the cart, and then I’ll catch up with you.”

Pelam had already started to leave. “Great,” he said. “Just stay on the road. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Looking first at the hunter, receding into the darkness beyond the range of the torch, and then back at Larean, Soria seemed less certain.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked.

Yes, I do.

“We need to help them.”

She sighed. “I meant, do you know anything about repairing vehicles?”

Oh. No. No, he did not. But how hard could it be, in the middle of the night, with wolves closing in on them?

“Stay and help me, then.”

She looked back in Pelam’s direction, but he was already gone, swallowed by the night.

“Alright,” she said. “But we’ll have to be quick. I don’t want to stay here a moment longer than necessary.”

Together with the father, Soria inspected the broken cart. The man pointed out where the wheel axle had splintered after they had pushed it too hard while trying to get away from the wolves. Larean tagged along, doing his best to follow what they talked about, but not doing a very good job at it. Still, he was a half-decent actor.

Soria pointed out the cracked wooden plug that had secured the wheel to the cart. Somehow, they’d have to get out the remains of it and replace it with a new, makeshift one. Without proper equipment—say, a full carpenter’s shop—she didn’t seem confident they could do it.

Still, for a few minutes, she made a half-hearted attempt at it anyway before eventually giving up.

“I’m sorry,” she told the father of the family. “There’s nothing I can do. You’ll have to try to push the cart into the nearest village and get someone there to help you.”

The mother glanced quickly at her children, and then back to Soria. The fear in her eyes was tangible.

“We would have tried if there was still daylight. But it’s too dark, and the wolves could be anywhere.”

She was starting to get desperate.

“Please stay and help us. Even if you can’t fix it, you can stay with us until morning. Help us keep the children safe.”

Soria shook her head. “I really have to go.”

Larean looked at her, torn between two duties he could not reconcile.

“We could stay,” he said. “Pelam’s strong. He can take care of himself for a few hours. We’re needed here.”

“You can stay if you want, but I’m still going,” she told him. “We don’t know these people. It’s not the gods’ will that we help them. They’re just strangers.”

Truth be told, Larean didn’t care much for what the gods of the world wanted. He never had. Like everyone else, he believed in them, of course. His whole life he had prayed at their shrines for favors. But beyond that, he’d never paid more attention to them than he would pay to a bag of flour or a dead fish.

Less, actually. You could bake delicious bread from flour, and the thought of grilled salmon made his empty stomach growl. In that regard, the gods were less than useless. He certainly had never met any who doled out fishes and bread. If he one day did, he might pay them a whole lot more attention.

Unfortunately, as much as Soria wanted to frame it that way, this wasn’t about the gods at all. The truth was that without her technical knowledge or Pelam’s fighting expertise, there wasn’t really anything he could contribute to the situation.

Overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of uselessness, he put down the broken wheel he had been holding. Shaking his head in shame, he left the family behind, following Soria into the night.

Out there among the shadows, the wolves began to howl.

Author's Note

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