“Some say you-the Memoridons, I mean-that the original ones, they inherited their powers from the Deserter Gods. Do you think that’s true?”
Skeelana’s grin got bigger. “A bit presumptuous. But I have heard that rumor.”
I tried to phrase it as if I was only making idle conversation, not actively looking for any information. “Do you think there’s any truth to it?”
“I wasn’t there, Arki. It was a loooooong time ago. When those Gods left, they did a pretty good job of not leaving many clues behind. So no one can say with any certainty.”
“Maybe not. But do you think it’s possible? What your kind can do, it’s obviously…”
“Yes?” Again, the quizzical look. It was actually growing on me.
“Well, except for the Syldoon, the entire world would rather see you dead than exercising those powers. They’re obviously potent. And alarming. So when you’re first trained, do your masters tell you their theory about the origins?”
“They do indeed.”
I waited, and when she stopped there, toying with me no doubt, I asked, “Aaaaand? What did they tell you?”
“That we were trained as the high priests of the Deserters. Before they deserted of course.”
I resisted the urge to yank on the reins. “What? You just said you didn’t know. And that it was presumptuous.”
“I did. And I did.”
“But-”
“I didn’t say I believed it. But that is what we are taught, yes.”
“But you don’t believe it?”
“I didn’t say that either, now did I?” She started to laugh and then stifled it, looking ahead to Soffjian to see if she overheard. More quietly, she said, “I think skepticism is healthy. And that we can’t ever know. I’m more concerned with the here and now than what happened over a millennium ago, anyway.” She gave me a pointed look. “Why are you so curious?” She was still smiling. But not as large.
“It’s my nature. And my training. I ask questions. Look for answers.”
“I see. Even when they are impossible to know or find?”
My horse clomped along, leaves mulching underhoof as we started up a rise. “There are always answers. If you are stubborn enough to keep looking.”
She shrugged. “Or convince yourself of them. Why did you ask about the Godveil?”
I leaned forward slightly to compensate as the ground sloped a bit more. “They erected that behind them. I was just thinking, there must be answers to a great deal of questions on the other side.”
When I stopped there, she waited and then said, “Aaaaaaaaand?”
It was my turn to bite down on a laugh. “I was also thinking that if the Deserters had really gifted some of their powers and knowledge to the Memoridons, even ages ago-if that were true, than perhaps you possessed the key to parting the Veil. Really parting it, passing through.”
She nodded very slowly. “Well, given no one knows for sure where those lovely gifts came from-despite seeming awfully, zealously certain, and wanting desperately to believe they were handed down from on high, because wouldn’t that be a wonderful boost to self-esteem-then the odds of us discovering a means of overcoming something erected by the Gods themselves seems pretty thin to me. And no amount of wishing otherwise or hunting is going to-”
We heard a low whistle and stopped. Ahead of us, Soffjian had one arm raised, the back of her hand to us. The Syldoon had stopped not too much further in front of her as well, and they were climbing down off their horses.
Soffjian did as well, and Skeelana took that as our cue. As always, I was the last one to catch up. Skeelana and I walked our horses up to the rest of the company. Braylar lashed Scorn to a tree, and everyone knew that wherever else we might be going it was on foot, and they did the same.
Then the captain faced our small company and pointed to the top of the hill. “We’re nearing a small ridge. We walk until we get close to the top. Then we slither the rest of the way. The hunting lodge is in a cleared-out space on the other side. We aren’t the first ones here, but that’s no surprise. Foss reports our dear friend, Captain Gurdinn, has led a Brunesmen expedition here as well. So, we take up position near the top-” He glared at me and the Memoridons for emphasis-“Silent position, it should go without saying, but I am forced to, lest someone alert the entire valley to the fact that we’ve joined this little party as well-and then we will see what we see, yes?”
I heard “Aye, Captain” several times from those closest, and the rest nodded, and he looked directly at me and the Memoridons to be sure interpretation wasn’t an issue.
The Syldoon crouched down, their armor covered by tunics again, their shields obscured by leather covers, helmets blackened by soot, though not the mail drapes the captain and lieutenants had on theirs. Still, it was clear they had opted for stealth again as much as possible.
I slung the belt and crossbow on my back and the quiver around my waist, and grabbed the trunks of trees to help keep my balance as we ascended the rest of the way. Lloi’s curved sword was belted around my waist as well, though I knew if things were dire enough that I had to draw it, it mostly meant we were done for.
Skeelana was just in front of me, and I found myself watching the way her hips shifted back and forth. Even on level ground, she had a bit of an involuntary sashay that was hard to turn away from, but watching her take the incline was almost hypnotic. I shook my head as I tripped over a root and forced myself to watch where I was going.
There was a part of me that hoped Foss had been wrong-maybe the lodge was in the next small valley, or maybe an entirely different forest altogether. The sweat started to come, even with the air growing chillier, and I breathed faster, despite the small climb not being the most exerting. Witnessing more combat was a bad enough prospect, but I’d sampled what it was like to actually participate, and was in no hurry at all to try it again.
I glanced at Skeelana, forcing myself to look above her waist as I wondered how she was faring. Was she as nervous as I was, given that she was somehow even less experienced and equipped? Or was she secure in knowing that her powers-bestowed by deities, stumbled upon by chance, discovered by peculiar accident-would be enough to see her through?
Nearing the top, everyone crouched down, making their way more slowly toward the crest of the hill, and then we all lowered ourselves to our bellies for the final distance, crawling through leaves and twigs and other detritus of the forest. I passed a large patch of strange mushrooms, with the heads inverted rather than domed, as if designed to capture the water that fell rather than repel it, and nearly bumped into Skeelana.
Even before I could see anything, I heard sounds from somewhere far on the other side, voices carrying through the woods, a hammer pounding something, a whinnying horse. I smelled smoke, too, and then right near the top of the ridge, got a whiff of meat that must have been on a spit. My mouth started watering as I imagined the skin crackling and blackening. Which was an odd sensation, given that at any moment we could be shooting our enemies, or maybe being skewered by them ourselves.
I wasn’t the only one suddenly feeling hunger pangs-I saw Vendurro lick his lips.
Braylar ordered the bulk of his men and the Memoridons to hold here. He kept moving up the remainder of the rise with Hewpsear and Mulldoos flanking him. I was crawling on my hands and knees, when I felt a slap on the back of my legs. Vendurro whispered, “Ass down, Quills. Cap said slither, not crawl like a plaguing possum.”
I did as instructed the rest of the way. When I finally peered over the edge, I wished I hadn’t. On the other side, in a shallow depressed stretch of land that wasn’t really large enough to count as a valley, the priest’s hunting lodge dominated the scene below us. I had expected a manor house mostly of wood, but the central building was built almost entirely of stone, three stories tall, with a rectangular tower on one corner. And the compound was surrounded by a thick, high wall that any smaller castle would have been jealous of, and beyond that, a deep dry moat. The drawbridge was up and surely locked tight.