His feet carried him away before he registered that they had turned. His shoulders hunched defensively, as another of those shrieks rose above the din and cascaded into the black depths of the gorge.
The road dropped precipitously, and the raging tumult lost much of its ferocity, sounding as if it were far above him. Leitos ran on, his treacherous heart pumping the searing poison of shame through his veins. It did not matter that he could not have done anything, save get himself killed. What did matter was that he had left Zera behind, abandoned her to a fate worse than death. She had commanded him, but in this instance obedience was unforgivable. Just as he was about to turn, a prolonged keening wail, no more human than any of the other sounds he had heard this night, pushed him onward.
After another mile, Leitos’s legs gave out, dropping him to the roadway. He lay curled in the dust, taking bitter solace from the blanket of darkness covering him. He wished the night was a black sea, churned by impartial tides that would sweep him away … away from all regret and fury and trouble.
Zera’s words came to him then. “There is no place for weakness and self-pity in this world. You die or you survive. Life under the rule the Faceless One is struggle and pain and sorrow. If you are favored by the Silent God, you may enjoy a rare and fleeting moment of joy. Lying down, surrendering, leads to death-slow or fast it may come, but it is death all the same…. Decide, Leitos, because there are many others who would chance all the remaining moments of their lives for the opportunity you have been given.”
Of the beautiful Hunter, he was certain she had given her life for him, as had Adham. He owed them more than surrender.
“Get up,” he commanded himself. He shoved his hands under his chest and pushed up, struggling through the oppressive weight of the night, and all the troubles it had brought him.
He stood in the middle of a forgotten road that led north to a forgotten city, and south to a haven of the Alon’mahk’lar. Unless some living horror came out of the north, he committed himself to wait until dawn for Zera’s unlikely return. After that, he would proceed to Zuladah, using the denizens of that city to confuse his trail for those who hunted him, be they men or Sons of the Fallen….
At a rattle of stone, Leitos whirled, ready to defend himself. Zera came into view, looking none the worse for wear.
“You are alive?” Leitos said in a breathless murmur.
“You expected otherwise?” she replied.
“I–I,” Leitos sputtered. Then burst out, “How? There were so many … and the one, it … it-”
“It died like the rest,” Zera said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Swords kill, when wielded properly.”
“But how?” Leitos persisted. He had fled knowing she would die, yet here she stood.
Zera sighed heavily. “Anything that has blood in its veins can lose that blood, if the proper means are used.” She frowned then. “Of course, had you heeded me, I would have dispatched those demon-spawn all the sooner. You and I need to talk about your failure to obey orders.”
“I did not want leave you,” Leitos said.
“Since things turned out well, I suppose you can be forgiven.” She offered him a smile that blurred the recurring images of the battle in his mind. “Come, we have many leagues to go before we can take a proper rest.”
Leitos stifled a groan, but knew they could not stay put. She had destroyed a number of Alon’mahk’lar, but more could come. Running was out of the question for Leitos, so they ambled along. Inside Leitos’s exhausted mind, he saw again that last battle, wondering how any one human could harbor the deadly skill needed to best such a dread host. In the end he decided it was a blessing beyond measure that Zera was a friend and not a foe.
Chapter 18
Morning found Leitos bleary-eyed and hungry. Zera directed him off the road and into the waiting desert. She followed, carefully obscuring their tracks. After a hundred paces, she announced that would have to do, and brought them to a hill comprised of rounded boulders that might have once been part of the large pillar of stone rising from their center. Similar formations jutted all around, making it anonymous.
“We will rest here for the day, and travel again tonight,” she said, circling around to the far side of the outcrop, and coming to a tiny opening. “We should reach Zuladah just after dawn.”
Zera took up an old dry stick, and used it to poke at the shadows beyond the opening under the boulders. Leitos recalled his first day away from the mines, and the snake he had killed and eaten, before stealing its shelter. He hoped that if Zera found a serpent, she did not want to eat it. He would, if he had to, but would rather have more of the dried meat she carried, along with a hunk of bread. Thinking on that, he almost laughed at his choosiness, after a lifetime spent eating thin porridge and the occasional beetle.
Still probing under the boulder, Zera dropped down and disappeared into the opening. Leitos waited until she called for him to follow, then crawled after her, careful to hide their tracks at her direction.
After a making his way on hands and knees for several paces, he came to a set of steep, narrow stairs leading down.
“Hurry,” Zera urged from farther down, bringing out her tiny firemoss sphere. “I’m starving, and filthy besides.”
Leitos descended the ladderlike stairs cut into the rock. Straight away he caught the scent of clean dampness on the air. They still had plenty of water, but after sloshing in a goat skin for any amount of time, it tasted of wet hide. The idea of having fresh water sent him rushing downward until he reached a sandy-floored cavern.
Leitos moved next to Zera, who was kneeling at the edge of a large pool. She had placed the small firemoss lamp in the crotch of a tripod made by strapping three sticks together near their tops, and splaying the legs. Its presence told him this was not her first time here.
The pool, a deep turquoise blue fading to black deeper down, dominated two-thirds of the rocky hollow. Sacks of what Leitos guessed were provisions rested against the base of one upward curving wall. The opposite wall loomed over a crude cot made from more sticks lashed together. Between the two sat a stone fire ring, a pile of twigs, and dried flakes of dung. Points of light pierced the vaulted ceiling, and Leitos reasoned that was how smoke from a fire escaped, filtering through those small holes and cracks, and dissipating before it drifted aboveground.
“It has little enough of comforts,” Zera said, dipping a cupped hand into the pool, “but it is adequate.”
To Leitos, it seemed a perfect sanctuary, save for one thing. “If someone blocks the entrance, how do we get out?”
Zera sipped water from her hand, then nodded approvingly. “Guarding your trust and finding an escape route are the best ways to stay alive and whole.” Leitos flushed at her praise. If Zera noticed his embarrassment, she did not let on.
“If it comes to leaving here undetected,” she said, pointing to the far side of the pool, “swim to the wall, then dive deep and-” She cut off. “Better that I show you, rather than try to explain.” With that, she began undressing.
Leitos’s mouth worked around dumbfounded silence. Just as she cocked her head in his direction, he whirled around. “I do not need to see it,” he blurted in a choked voice.
“Of course you do,” Zera said.
Quiet hung between them, growing more uncomfortable the longer it lasted, at least to him.
“Do you mean to swim with your clothes on?” she said after a time, her voice husky with what Leitos guessed was suppressed laughter.
He turned slowly, and his averted eyes involuntarily climbed from her toes to her legs, past her smooth belly, and finally came to rest on her face. He had expected her to be naked, and she was, save for a loincloth and a narrow band of cloth wrapped around her breasts. In the firemoss’ amber light, her skin glowed; her hands, neck, and face made a few shades darker from the sun.