The Farwalker's Quest Read online

  After a few minutes, Scarl raised her. When her legs wouldn’t hold her, he slung her over his shoulder and picked a way back up their path. She hung limp, crushed at her belly and sobbing. Blood from the gouge on her chin dribbled down the Finder’s coat.

  Elbert met them, the glower on his face made more ugly by swelling.

  “Did you beat her enough?”

  “You want a go?” Scarl asked. Ariel choked. Scarl’s blow had been bad enough. Fists as powerful as Elbert’s could kill her.

  A chill voice in her mind wondered if that might be best.

  Scarl did not lower her from his shoulder, however. Slapping a persistent hornet, Elbert turned and stalked onward.

  “I’ll save it for later,” he growled.

  They traveled at least half a mile while the skittish horse calmed enough so that Scarl might safely shift Ariel to horseback. All the while, some animal part of her brain worked on a puzzle. By the time Scarl slung her sideways over Orion’s back, she felt ready to stop weeping. Being lashed there like a corpse didn’t feel good, but she didn’t mind hiding her face against the warm, musky ribs.

  She’d seen something in the rocks while she’d lain there, bleeding. In the agony of her recapture, she had not immediately registered anything out of place. Now, though, desperation pumped the knowledge from the underside of her mind to the top.

  An apple core had been dropped in the rocks. It rested in a crevice, hidden except to a face very close, as hers had been. The flesh on the core had not yet turned brown.

  Whoever had dropped it could not be far away. It could have been a stranger coming this way by chance, but not likely. Ariel knew her rescuers had finally come. She had to be ready.

  PART TWO

  SPECTER

  CHAPTER

  14

  Ariel endured two more anxious days, primed for an ambush of rescuing heroes, while her captors hauled her through flowerspecked meadows and an alpine pass. As the trio trudged over its crest, she gazed farther up toward snowy peaks and a sweep of what looked like white taffy pulled and stretched between mountains.

  “Frozen river,” Scarl said, noting her interest. “Ice that moves. If we were closer, you could hear it groan and break off at the end—slabs so big they would crush any house.”

  “Honestly, Scarl?” Elbert asked. “You’ve seen this before? I had no idea how well traveled you are.” Ariel thought him sincere until Scarl threw an obscene gesture in reply.

  Elbert chortled. “No, no, tell us more, wise one. Give the princess a thrill!”

  Deafening her ears, Ariel bitterly remembered telling Zeke of foreign things she might see on her trip. Even now she could wonder at a frozen river, but that excitement felt frozen, too, locked in the ice crushing her heart. Silently she pleaded for her rescuers to hurry and melt it.

  To her relief, since her attempt to escape she had not received another blow. Elbert’s temper had faded, and no one had spoken again of her flight. Yet Scarl allowed her little rest and no privacy now, dragging her along every time he tended the horse or collected wood for a fire.

  The extra movement tormented Ariel’s feet. Stinging blisters rose on both heels, and even wearing two pairs of socks barely helped. Then a breakfast of fried brook fish gave her an idea.

  Just before they started off that morning, Scarl bent to adjust the rope knotted at her wrists. He sniffed. His nose wrinkled.

  “Did you put fish in your pockets?” he asked.

  “No.” Afraid he’d search her, she added, “I remembered the Fishers put fish oil on blisters. And I have a lot. So I rubbed the greasy bits of my breakfast on my feet.”

  His lips squashed a smile. “Clever. You may make a Farwalker yet.”

  She scowled. They’d already walked plenty far. “What does that mean?”

  Tensing, Scarl straightened and spun her shoulder. “Unless you want that rope tighter, hush up and let’s go.”

  As they descended from the pass that day, Ariel picked apart his odd comment. She realized she’d heard the term Farwalker before. One of the Storian’s tales about the Blind War had included a song. It recounted how the people left after the war had put the world back together again. Forced to get along without sight, they honed senses they hadn’t needed or heeded until they went blind. Tree-Singers began talking to trees then, and Kincallers made friends with the creatures of forest and field. Others discovered they could still find things, even blind, if they sought with some previously untapped part of their minds. Together, using skills they might once have called magic, the remaining few people survived. New trades grew around their uncanny gifts.

  Storian’s song celebrated heroes of that difficult time. Ariel couldn’t recall most of the words, but she did remember one verse:

  When large had crumbled down to small,

  the Farwalker rose to span them all.

  If knowledge is to rise again,

  hope others can be found by then.

  Unfortunately, Ariel had little idea what it meant, beyond the obvious clues in the Farwalker name. She sifted memories but ended no wiser, only sorry she hadn’t paid more attention to Storian’s lessons. The verse seemed to hint of another whole trade, a kind of teacher, perhaps. But teaching was the Storians’ job. Besides, how much teaching could somebody do if they were walking around all the time?

  The offhand remark may have been unimportant, but Scarl’s reaction implied otherwise. And if the Finders had confused her with somebody else, or thought she held some Farwalker secret that she certainly didn’t, more trouble might be coming when they got her to Libros and the mistake came to light. The rescue party from Canberra Docks had better free her before then.

  Yet as one hour trod into the next, she couldn’t think about her rescue too much. If she had, she could not have ignored her mounting fear that she’d imagined the apple core in the rocks.

  Late that afternoon, Ariel spied chimney smoke. It drifted past the treetops, rising on a breeze that also bore the jingle of distant cattle or goat bells. The hints of other people sped Ariel’s heart.

  “Is there a village below? Is that where we’re going?”

  “Not you, princess,” Elbert said. “It’s no more than an old roadhouse, left from the days when some few still traveled by road. Unlike us.” He turned to Scarl, scratching one ear. “I’m thinking to drop by for a jar of beer. Maybe two.”

  “We look far too odd as traveling mates.” Scarl tilted his head toward Ariel. “Let’s just keep on.”

  “No, the beer is more persuasive than you are, my friend. You stay here with the horse and the two-legged luggage. I’ll return soon enough. I’ll bring you a swallow if I can talk them out of a jarful.” Shouldering his pack, Elbert started downhill toward the smoke, picking through the boulders that littered the slope.

  Scarl watched him go. Then he turned, checked the sun’s low position, and considered Ariel at length, rasping one finger along the stubble on his jaw. “Hmm,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just put you to work.”

  He removed his coat and his shirt. Ariel’s heart shot into her throat. With ribs lining his bare chest, he looked to be more sinew than muscle, but he’d picked her up bodily more than once. She knew exactly how little resistance she could offer if he’d decided that her clothes would be coming off next.

  She had just opened her mouth to protest or plead when he tossed his shirt at her. It smelled of wood smoke and sweat.

  “You can sew, can’t you?”

  She nodded, her arms limp with relief. Before long, she’d been tasked with stitching up several rips in his shirt. The Finder provided a needle from a small bundle of goods in his coat. He didn’t have thread, so Ariel settled for a strand of horsetail. Orion didn’t even flick his ears at her yank. Loosing one of her wrists, Scarl tied her snugly astride the horse, facing backward so she could lean over and pluck hairs as needed. Then he hobbled the horse.

  Freed from her and the leash, Scarl found a small pool of rainwater trapped among the
hillside’s many rocks. He bathed there discreetly, using one sock as a washrag. Ariel fought envy as she sewed. Her own skin felt gritty and sticky from too many days with no bath.

  She was so filthy, in fact, she was attracting flies. That’s what she thought when a horsefly flew into her shoulder, then another bounced off her leg. A third missile fell into the shirt fabric spread on her lap. Staring, Ariel saw that it was not a fly but a pebble. Orion stretched his neck to one side, fluttering his nostrils at some unfamiliar scent.

  Of course! Her confusion cleared. She’d almost missed the start of her long-awaited rescue. She glanced toward Scarl, who was busy dressing again. As casually as she could, she looked toward the apparent source of the rain of pebbles.

  A flash of motion caught her eye. She sucked in a sharp breath. Zeke crouched beneath the curve of a boulder that hid him from the Finder.

  Immediately Ariel stared at her sewing, resisting the urge to check Scarl’s attention. If he were watching, that alone might give Zeke away.

  Her mind raced. Why had her rescuers brought Zeke? Maybe he and the trees had helped them find her. Being smaller, too, he could sneak better than grown men. That had to be it.

  She risked a peek at Scarl. He was donning his boots and didn’t seem to suspect. Amazed that he could not hear her heart pounding, Ariel pretended to rethread her needle, keeping her friend visible from the corner of her eye.

  Zeke pointed to Scarl and made a series of gestures that included tipping his cheek onto his hands like a pillow. She understood perfectly: when the men slept tonight, she must stay awake. She nodded subtly to her lap. At her next stolen glance, Zeke was gone. And not a moment too soon. Scarl approached.

  Ariel sewed, her stomach churning and her mind far from the needle. Scarl checked her progress, apparently not noticing how her fingers shook.

  When she returned his shirt, she asked if she might bathe, too, afraid she would never sit still without a distraction. Agreeing, Scarl accompanied her to the puddle and turned a shoulder to her. Stirred up now, the water looked murky. Ariel heaved a rueful sigh and began splashing.

  She’d long ago ripped her nightgown into a blouse, tying the remnant around her neck for more warmth. Now she used the makeshift scarf as a washrag, drawing it, sopping, under her shirt. The cold water stung less than the notion that she was wiping Scarl’s grime onto her skin.

  By the time she was done, though, she’d grown used to what might happen tonight. No longer terrified that she’d give something away, she thanked Scarl for letting her wash.

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t mention your bath to Elbert,” he said. “He’s likely to roll you in Orion’s manure for a laugh. And I don’t want to have to sleep next to that.”

  The last few nights had been so cold that her blanket had not been enough. This time, when Scarl had silently lifted the edge of his coat to share it, she’d swallowed her revulsion and wiggled beneath. Glad for the protective cocoon of her blanket, she’d discovered that his spare body heat, more than the coat, kept her quite warm. He’d told her the next morning that he would start kicking her back if she couldn’t tame her flying knees and feet, and indeed, she’d been nudged awake more than once by an elbow. The warmth had been worth a few bruises.

  Now Ariel pondered how to get farther away at bedtime without raising suspicion.

  She found an idea.

  CHAPTER

  15

  Elbert returned just after dark, in good humor and smelling of ale. He and Scarl shared more beer as the three of them dined on sausages Elbert also had brought. Scarl offered the beer jar to Ariel, too, but Elbert objected. She didn’t mind. She would have drunk the bitter brew simply to help fill her belly, but tonight she wanted the men to sleep as heavily as they might.

  As they prepared for bed, Ariel voiced her idea.

  “Please, Scarl, may I lie atop Orion to sleep? He’s warm, too, and you hurt me with your elbows. You can tie me to him as tight as you like.”

  “She prefers a horse, does she?” Elbert chortled, clearly feeling the effects of his beer. “What’s that say about you, then, my friend?”

  Scarl dismissed her hopes with a curt shake of his head. “His back needs the rest.”

  “Wait, I’m amused by this idea,” Elbert said. “If she’s atop and he lies down, he’ll crush her.” He slapped his thigh and got to his feet. “I say we tie her by the neck so short that if she falls off in her sleep, she’ll hang herself. Two chances for fun. Care to wager on it, Scarl? What’ll you give me if she’s still kicking at dawn?”

  “Don’t be a dullard,” Scarl replied.

  “Why so fond of her, then?” Elbert demanded. “I’m starting to wonder if you’ve—”

  “We won’t get anything for her, dead.”

  “We won’t anyway, if Mason is not as curious about her as you seem to think.”

  “Mason?” blurted Ariel, who had been listening with clenched stomach muscles, trying not to show how much she cared. “Is that who sent the darts? Are you really taking me to Libros?”

  “Nobody knows who sent them, you little idiot, only who received them. Never mind.” Elbert clomped over to untie Ariel’s wrists from her leash. She feigned fear as he flung her up onto the horse. His frightening predictions might come true, of course, if she spent the whole night on Orion. She expected she wouldn’t. Even if her captors woke midway through her rescue, her chances had to be better outside Scarl’s reach.

  “My blanket—”

  “Sorry, that wasn’t part of the wager.” Elbert jerked her hands forward along either side of Orion’s neck and secured her wrists together beneath it. The position tried Ariel’s balance. Worse, Elbert tied a slipknot around her neck and looped the other end of the rope around the horse’s belly just before his hind legs. Orion jigged side to side at the prickly binding. Ariel clamped her arms and legs tight.

  After a moment, the horse snorted, uneasily accepting the rope. He dropped his head to crop grass, hopping with his hobbled front legs and then catching up with the rear. The motion jounced Ariel and tugged against the noose on her neck. She’d never stay on all night. If she fell, though, the added tension would choke her, cause the horse to buck his hind legs, or both. Elbert had created a fearsome trap.

  “A good trick,” he declared, returning with a grin to his seat by the fire.

  “Fine,” Scarl said through a frown. “I assume you’re betting she falls. And if she’s still astride when we rise?”

  Elbert fingered his whiskers. “If the princess stays on her steed, you can have my hat.”

  Scarl coveted that leather hat, Ariel knew. It kept the rain off Elbert’s head when his own knit cap soaked through—as did Ariel’s forlorn yellow skirt, which she often draped over herself like a shawl.

  “No,” Scarl said, surprising her. “I want the dart.”

  Elbert’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I know someone who will trade a lot for it,” Scarl explained, “knowing its story.”

  “Mason expects it. Are you Fool enough to defy him?”

  Scarl shook his head. “Mason only wants to make sure its message is not acted upon. She’s from Canberra Docks. We can tell him it fell into the sea when we grabbed her. We both saw that it was damaged anyway. Even if it washed ashore and someone else found it, they can’t know what it says. And remember who this dart was sent to. We have her to present.”

  Elbert scuffed one foot on the ground. Ariel thought he could barely keep up with Scarl’s argument. Neither could she. The dart had not been sent to her—why didn’t they believe that?—nor could she understand all the symbols it bore. She wasn’t anyone special, least of all some mysterious Farwalker mentioned in a crusty old song. Unless Mason longed to meet a Naming test failure, he would be disappointed. And he or anyone else who wanted her cursed dart could have it.

  “Are we on?” Scarl pressed Elbert. Ariel felt like a fish being quibbled over in a trade.

  “You’ll handle Mason?” Elbert asked. “
Take the blame, if he’s angry? And no whining if you lose and she’s not worth hauling the rest of the way?”

  Scarl tipped his head. “When have you known me to whine?”

  “Then you’re on.”

  Scarl gazed at Ariel as though gluing her to the horse with his eyes. There was no warmth in his face—only warning.

  Clutching the horse’s neck, she turned away. Her sausages roiled in her stomach. She hoped she hadn’t just complicated her rescue.

  Scarl rolled into his blanket soon after the wager, but his slit eyelids told Ariel he watched her. Elbert sat up late, pitching pebbles and clapping, trying to startle her mount. Although the horse flinched and hopped sideways a few times, she kept her precarious perch.

  At last Elbert stretched out and dozed off. Eventually the gleam of Scarl’s eyeballs vanished behind his lids. The night deepened, and despite her awkward position, Ariel found it harder to stay awake than she’d expected. Her own eyelids drooped.

  She sprang back alert when Orion’s neck tensed. Flicking his ears at some uncertain sound, the horse snorted gently. Ariel willed him to silence and blinked into the dark. Every flutter and scurry in the woods made her tingle.

  One shadow proved more fluid than the rest. Once she spotted it, Ariel watched it creep forward, her ears tuned to her captors’ steady breathing behind her. Her brain tried to tell her the slight form must be Zeke. She wouldn’t believe it. Where were the Fishers or his father? Soon, though, she couldn’t deny it. He appeared to be alone. The weight of the danger they both faced, if there weren’t men with weapons hiding just out of sight, crushed out her breath.

  Once he’d decided the shadow was no mountain lion, Orion went back to his hop-along grazing. Ariel feared the horse would outpace the boy, whose approach was painfully slow. When Zeke’s face finally drew near to hers, he held a finger to his lips and began working on knots.