Chapter 11
“Could I walk for a bit and stretch my legs?” Kestrel asked, as she covered a yawn with her hand. Moira tightened up on the reins, slowing the horses so Kestrel could jump off.
“I think I heard the sounds of a creek over that way,” Moira said, pointing with a nod of her head. “If there’s room for the wagon to turn around and a place to water the horses, let me know. We can stop for the evening to wait for Marley and Jayf.”
Kestrel nodded and slipped from the wagon seat to hit the trail at a run. She was at the brook and looking back towards the wagon before it had gone a handful of wagon lengths. Pacing the horses, she ran along the brook, searching for a place suitable for the wagon. She stretched her legs out into a lope and passed up the first trail that ducked into the woods. As her legs tired, she found a likely site and, waving to her mom, trotted back toward the road.
Moira steered the horses across the patchy grass and pulled to a halt beneath the branches of a pair of old drooping pines. She maneuvered the wagon deeper into the stand of trees before climbing down from the wagon, a pleased smile on her face.
“Yes, yes, this will do nicely,” she said, nodding as she surveyed the site.
Kestrel and her mother unhitched the horses and led them down to the brook. As they walked, Kestrel asked. “What does it mean to see the essence of something?”
Moira sat down on the stream bank and patted the grass in an invitation for her daughter to join her. Kestrel shifted beneath her mah’s quizzical gaze as she said, “Seeing the essence of something means to see the very truth of it, to see its core and if you are gifted in Tavir, especially if you are Espiare, seeing that core, means you can usually learn to tap into it and use it in a way unique to each person.”
Kestrel pulled a blade of grass and lay back, staring up at the sky. She blew across the blade, practicing her bird calls until Moira stopped her with a question.
“Have you noticed any differences in the things around you or in yourself or how you view or sense the world… since traveling on the Paths?”
She reached up to shade her eyes and turned to her mah. She wanted to tell her about the slight shifts in perception that had nothing to do with the journey she took with Jayf. They had plagued her for months. Kestrel wanted to tell her about the premonition of calamity that prickled at her spirit as she watched her arrow pierce the stable yard post the night before.
Before she could frame the words, the sun, a blaze of color as it set, seemed to shimmer and through the shimmer stepped Jayf. Kestrel decided it would take a long time to get used to him appearing out of nowhere. Although thankfully he arrived unscathed, she felt bereft that the dragonkin’s appearance cut short her conversation with her mah. Still, she smiled and invited him over with a wave.
Jayf moved so that the two did not have the sun in their eyes. “You have found a fine place to rest and wait out the night.”
“Thank Kestrel’s scouting skills for that,” Moira said as she stood. “Let’s bring the horses back into the trees to picket, Hawkling.” She reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out a winter apple.
Kestrel grinned. She loved that cloak pocket. It always contained something... sustaining... even if it was just a winter-weary apple. Her mother cut the apple into quarters and handed her a piece. Her mah studied Jayf for a moment before offering an apple quarter to him.
“You look like you could use more than a piece of withered apple,” Moira said as he took it from her. She portioned out the rest of the apple between Plainstrider and the other mare and asked over her shoulder. “Where’s Marley?”
Kestrel took the leads from her mother and let her and Jayf walk together while she took care of the horse’s needs. Jayf spoke just loud enough to make Kestrel keep a taut lead on the horses or chance the wind snatching away his words before she heard.
“Marley should join us after dark. The weavers followed us from Four Corners and we spent the day playing cat and mouse with at least three from the Academy. With the help of some illusions, you and I, Kestrel, appeared all around the festival, and then on three or four routes out of town. We also appeared at three different way-stops to the north and east. As for Marley,” he said with more cheer than his haggard look vouched for, “he has his own ways. You have no worries about him!”
They reached the wagon and Moira climbed into the back of the wagon to get Jayf a flagon of ale. “Do we need to hitch the wagon? Are we safe here?” She asked, handing it to him.
“We are safe here for now,” he said after taking a long pull on the flagon. “Night is almost upon us and we still do not know if our owly friend was just passing through or on the hunt.” He took another swallow of the ale before handing it back to Moira. “Either way, it will be a cold camp this eve.”
Unsure whether to picket the horses close to the wagon and hope that their noise would not draw any unwanted attention. Or farther down the hill and fear that something would find them and they would not be there to protect them. Kestrel sighed, looking from Jayf to her mah.
Moira smiled and hopped out of the wagon with a dancer’s grace. She joined Kestrel, taking hold of Plainstrider’s lead, seeming to read her daughter’s indecision. “Let’s picket them back here. The trees will muffle and disperse any sounds and afford them some protection if this owl creature is as big as you say he is.”
On returning to the wagon, they found the dragonkin preparing a meager but welcoming meal of oatcakes, cheese, and a mix of dried winter berries. As they ate their repast, Moira voiced Kestrel’s thoughts when she asked Jayf when he had last slept.
“Indeed, soon the time will come when I cannot nay say my need for rest, but I have yet a small amount of energy left. Come Kestrel,” he said, popping up from where he sat. “Walk with me, first, so that I might become familiar with the perimeter of our hidey-hole.”
Moira grinned her approval and, climbing into the wagon, disappeared inside. “I will curry the horses while you take your stroll, for they surely gave their all this day.” She reappeared with her curry brush and a couple of carrots.
Kestrel let Jayf take the lead and as they walked he seemed lost in his thoughts, until she finally asked, “Do you think Marley will lose Lord Norfall’s hound?”
“If anyone can, it is he and if he can’t lose them, he can just spin them a song so boring and off-key they will run for their homes in fear of an encore.” He chuckled and Kestrel felt her muscles relax as Jayf talked.
By the time they looped back around to the camp, she had filled him in on the riders and the strange way Mason acted as he hunted for them. Jayf nodded as she spoke, but offered none of his perception or knowledge. Kestrel glanced down at him. He looked worn, even his top knot seemed to droop.
Her mother, just getting back from tending the horses, gazed at the now dark sky and asked. “Did you see anyone or anything?”
“Not a thing,” Jayf said, scanning the sky. “I have not seen the owl creature, but you must be on guard, Kestrel. Stay out of open areas where you might be seen.”
The dragonkin yawned. “I hoped to stave off entering dragon sleep until Marley arrived, but I fear it will no longer take no for an answer. As you discovered, last night, the Paths extract a price.” Jayf said with a wink at Kestrel.
His face turned serious as he continued, “I fear, you cannot wake me until I pay the debt. Until then,” Jayf said with a slight bow. “I will be under the wagon. Be safe, my friends.”
Confusion and concern rested heavily upon her mother’s brow as Kestrel turned from Jayf to Moira. Her mother slipped her arm about her shoulders and drew Kestrel close. “I guess we have a lot to learn where Dragonkin are concerned. First watch is mine, my sweet. I would speak with the runesmith when he arrives.
Moonlight bathed the surrounding area as Kestrel made her way to the perimeter of the camp. She headed for the big old Sepota tree Jayf pointed out earlier in the evening. The fat limbs begged to be climbed and the cool night breeze blew the last of the sleep from her eyes and thoughts.
She reached up, grasping the rough wrinkled bark, then paused, adjusting her bow and quiver. Onto a low limb, she scrambled, swung around and up a couple more. Her view of their camp and the surrounding area soon lay unobstructed. But before she could settle on a limb, a strange, yet familiar touch at the edge of her mind set her eyes searching the darkened landscape.
A shadow swooped across the sky. And the owl creature reminded her, once more, the academy men were not the only ones hunting. She bit her lip, drawing farther back into the green canopy and lowering herself through the limbs.
Careful to stay under the cover of branch and leaf, she dropped to the ground. And ducked behind the tree to get her bearings. As she leaned against the bark, she nearly jumped out of her skin when Marley appeared next to her. She gasped, and he placed a finger to his lips, giving a small, sharp shake of his head.
They stood in silence next to each other for the length of a double handful of breaths. But her impatience got the better of her and she tilted her head towards him, whispering close to his ear. “Why are we standing here like this?”
Marley frowned, but it was another score of breaths before he spoke. “I thought I lost them.” He sighed, scanning the woods on the far side of the merchant road. “I alerted your mah, and she watches over Jayf while he is in dragon sleep.”
“How…” Kestrel started to ask, but knowing Marley was not likely to tell her, she changed her mind and asked. “What will you do?”
“I think it is time to address this situation from another perspective…” Marley said, his tone somber. “Perhaps I can persuade them to get on about their academy business. And if not, at least give Jayf time to come out of his dragon sleep.”
“What about me?” Kestrel asked, while she again searched for that touch in her mind. It was still there but didn’t seem to hunt, just there. She didn’t know whether to continue to keep watch from the tree or to return to the wagon.
But in her heart, she wanted Marley to ask her to come with him. And hoped her ability to tell where the creature was and that it didn’t seem hostile would be enough to encourage him to take her.
“I don’t know if it is of any use to you, but the owl creature does not seem intent on harm at the moment, although it is close.” She waited for the runesmith to give her an answer.
He gazed at her for a long moment and she knew he took her measure in that solemn stare. “The Fates toss the runestones once again and one will name the prize,” he said, looking back out into the night.
Kestrel wondered at Marley’s cryptic reply, and her gaze followed his. A sense of anticipation, bordering on foreboding, seemed to hang thick in the air. And she felt her skin tingle as the runesmith spoke once more.
“When I say something, there is a purpose behind it, girl. Will you listen and do what I tell you?”
She nodded. Her voice caught in her throat as excitement churned in her belly, and she couldn’t help but grin as she stepped away from the tree.
Marley grunted and motioned for her to follow him. He kept low to the ground and moved quickly. It seemed to Kestrel the air rippled and parted about him, and she felt sure she heard him hum a single note while they ran. Kestrel hoped she’d get the chance to ask him about that later.
They moved from thicket to copse to thicket away from the wagon and back toward the road. He stopped in a small stand of trees on the far side of the road and passed a flagon of sweet, flowery-smelling liquid to Kestrel.
“Only a sip or two, youngin’,” he said and then handed her another flagon with cool water in it. “Drink your fill of that one.”
Kestrel’s mind swirled with questions as she took a drink. It was a sweet drink, but not the hug-in-a-bottle variety. And as a calm washed over her, she blurted out, “Do you truly have an elixir for every occasion?”
He shrugged and with a wry chuckle said, “Enchantments is what I do. You could say I encourage things to be something more or different from what they ever imagined.”
When Marley put the flasks back in his pack and it barely moved, Kestrel was sure the bag was also enchanted. But she had no more time for flights of fancy as they moved on, this time more openly.
They walked in silence until Kestrel said, “I still see no signs of them, and I am a pretty good scout. How can you be sure they still follow?”
“You might say a little breeze told me.”
All Kestrel could think to say to his reply was, “Oh.”
“It’s curious they travel so far from Sedd with a hound. They most certainly cannot sense plague in humans, espaire or elementals. Although I and Jayf tried to throw up obstacles and lead them on false trails a score of times this day, the hound always prevailed. And they would double back toward your wagon.”
“What exactly is a hound?” Kestrel asked, thinking of Mason when he turned back toward the wagon, as if he smelled something in the air.
“A hound is someone that can sense when power is used, no matter what the source of the power. They usually are barely adequate in any form of Tavir-weaving themselves, but they are drawn to it like a lodestone to iron and once they have honed in on a power signature, they can be hard to shake.”
She shivered. “I… I think the hound’s name is Mason.”
“What makes you think that?”
After telling him what happened with the riders, she paused. The things she sensed confused her, even scared her. She hoped to talk to her mother about what was happening to her but did not get the chance and she wondered if her mother could understand. Kestrel chewed at her lip for a moment. She saw impatience worry at Marley’s brow and she blurted out.
“I can sense when someone uses magic and, and once I have sensed the user, I can kind of tell where they are if they are fairly close. And if I concentrate and look real hard there is a… a texture of color around everything, mingling and yet separate.”
She took a deep breath and rushed to continue before she lost her nerve. “I know almost nothing about Tavir or essence or weaving, or powers, or whatever you want to call it. Nor do I know how to use any of them, or why it is suddenly so important for me to know these things. I haven’t even gone on my Recerca,” she said, her voice a quiver as she finished.
She fidgeted under Marley’s scrutiny, her heart fluttering like a caged bird as once again she felt a slight sense of vertigo and she wondered if that was what happened when the Fates tossed the runes. The runesmith’s gaze moved from her to the wooded area, a look of indecision on his face.
He finally said, “We will have words.” He sighed and shook his head. “But for now we have to keep moving, we need to catch them.”