“What in the name of the three gods are…” said the man. “Wait-wait! Jacob?”
Jacob smiled wide. “Hello, Turock, Abigail. Good to see you two again.”
The couple’s demeanor shifted quickly-in a matter of seconds they went from scowling to cheerily rushing toward Jacob for a hug. They moved on to Brienna and Azariah next, embracing them just as emphatically as they had Jacob. The pair looked absolutely shocked to see the travelers, and both of them kept repeating how surprising it was that Jacob and his band had made it through, whatever that meant. The separate parties then turned to Roland, who shifted uncomfortably as his master introduced him.
“Friends, this is Roland Norsman, my humble steward and an upstanding young man. And Roland, standing before you is Abigail Escheton, once Abigail DuTaureau of Ashhur’s First Families. The man beside her is her husband, Turock Escheton, student of the mysterious arts and one of the most bewildering men you will ever meet.”
“Been called much worse,” Turock said with a laugh.
Roland bowed, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he stared at Abigail. The woman was striking, her small stature accentuating her sprite-like beauty. He’d run across Bessus Gorgoros and his wife many times, and Bardiya, their son, as well, but this was the first time he had met someone from Ashhur’s other First Family. The Gorgoroses were of larger stock, and Roland had always felt intimidated by their combined intensity. Abigail, on the other hand, was all charm.
“An honor to meet you, my Lords,” Roland said in reverence.
“Oh, stop that shit,” said Turock, waving a dismissive hand at him. The grin on his lips was infectious. “We’re no gods here. Just men and women of the north, trying to make our way, learning and screwing and doing all sorts of things you could never get away with down in Safeway.”
Abigail slapped her husband’s shoulder. “Turock, watch your language.”
“What? We have six children, Abby.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well, to be fair, the fornicating is rather abundant in Safeway as well. Fine. But it’s the other stuff that really matters anyway!”
Abigail rolled her eyes.
Jacob placed a hand on Turock’s wrist. “Friend, the pleasantries are all well and good, but there are dire matters to speak of, not the least of which is why you’ve abandoned the village.”
Turock’s lips twisted into a thin, white line, as did his wife’s. For the first time Roland noticed creases of age around both of their mouths and fading streaks in their hair that would soon turn gray. Now that their smiles were gone, their troubled demeanors were as plain as the day was bright. It seemed as though all joy had left the tent.
“Sit, Jacob,” said Turock, his voice little more than a whisper. “We have much to discuss.”
Abigail handed each of them a finely woven sitting rug, and they all settled down on the gravelly earth as the couple started to tell their tale.
“It’s been-what? — a month?” Turock asked, glancing at his wife to confirm the date. “It started with wolves howling. Nothing strange about that, but these howls were territorial; they were vicious. Most nights, it sounded like the wolves were dying. Chilling, let me assure you. Later we found grayhorns slaughtered, their innards torn out and splayed across the grass like someone was playing a sick game. We started setting out patrols, keeping a closer eye on our livestock, but it never seemed to matter. And now.…”
Turock let out a sigh and shook his head. Abigail patted his leg, squeezing his knee.
“They started taking children,” she said when her husband would not. “Then finally, yesterday, a whole family.”
“The Rodderdams,” Turock said softly. “We found a trail of blood, and it led from our village to this very spot.”
He fell silent, and Roland winced in sudden discomfort. Children taken at night, but by what? It sounded like a bad campfire story, one meant to scare him…but there was no glint in their eyes, no smile to betray the amusement of a storyteller. Just exhaustion, frustration, and fear. Roland glanced at his master, wondering what Jacob thought of their tale. To his surprise, he saw a smoldering fury in the First Man’s eyes.
“You’re both wise beyond your years,” Jacob said. “What do you think is happening?”
Turock shrugged.
“Up here in the north, the Gihon’s a torrential force. I’ve seen its waters carry off a man before he knew he was even wet. But everything we’ve seen indicates that something is crossing that river. The blood trail ends at the narrowest passage between our lands and the dead place on the other side. More convincing, we found tracks leading into the water.”
“Tracks of what?” asked Brienna.
“We don’t know,” Abigail said. “They’re strange-cloven. I’ve never seen anything like it before in all my life. No one has.”
“You have to realize something,” Turock added. “The Tinderlands beyond the river are an altered land. Before Celestia reworked Dezrel, they used to be the homeland of the elves-many apologies about that, Brienna. It seems the arrival of humanity was trouble for everybody-for the humans themselves especially. But it seems as though something is living there…and that something has found a way to survive in a wasteland where even crows and vultures stay away. What manner of beast is that? What creature? What monster?”
“Control your mind, Turock,” Azariah said, interrupting him. “You speak and speak, and it builds the mystery into something far more horrible than it could ever be. But let’s get back to what we know…the children who were taken-were they dead or alive?”
“They must be dead,” Turock insisted. “Nothing can live out there.”
“But you just said something must be living there,” Roland pointed out, and then immediately flushed red when he realized he was interrupting a conversation between people far more intelligent than him. He shrank down as all eyes turned to him. “Sorry,” he said. “But you can’t say nothing is living there and also say something is living there.”
“He’s right,” Azariah said. “Stop making guesses. Were the children alive or dead?”
The question obviously made Turock uncomfortable, and he shifted on his little mat.
“Sometimes there was so much blood, it seemed nothing could be alive,” he said. “But not always. No, it’s possible the children were taken alive, and might still be.”
“If that is the case, these beings must be hunted down and destroyed all the faster,” Jacob said. “But what are we hunting?”
“It doesn’t have to be monsters,” Brienna offered. “How about mountain dwellers? Or perhaps some of my people who stayed behind?”
Roland gave her a confused look.
Abigail shook her head. “Who would live in the coldness and thin air of those mountains? Why would anyone leave Paradise to scrape together an existence up there? It makes no sense. And as for your people…if any elves went missing a hundred years ago, your leaders would have said something about it. You were few enough as it was.”
“True,” Brienna said.
“I think Turock is on the right path,” Jacob said. “We are fools to think we’ve managed to tame this world after being here for so few years…we’ve only touched the surface of its mysteries. Some creature we’ve yet to encounter is responsible for these disappearances. I’m sure of it.”
Roland frowned at Jacob, but this time he dared not interrupt. Someone was crossing the river, yet none of his companions had made mention of the rumored army Jacob had told them of while in the delta. By Ashhur, it was the entire reason they had trekked north in the first place!
“I’m glad you’re with me, friend,” Turock said.
“So, this great tower-” Azariah said, gesturing toward the exit flap of the tent, “-is it being built to frighten them away?”