Memories of Ash (The Sunbolt Chronicles Book 2) (50 page)

“Go in peace,” she says. That is all the farewell we can afford.

“And you,” I murmur and step away from the wagon.

I walk briskly to the next cross-street, sandwiched between the boundary walls guarding the neighboring houses. It’s hardly more than an alley, empty for now. Halfway down, I step into a recessed doorway, slide on the look-away and pull off the glamor charm. I wait a count of five breaths to ensure that anyone near the mouth of the alley has passed on and then walk back up to entrance to scan the street.

Stormwind bumps along in the back of the wagon, now another block away and very near what looks like an open market square. Kenta is still not in sight — I doubt he’ll rejoin the wagon while Stonefall might see him. Stonefall himself is still there, walking his horse along the road and scanning the people as he goes. He knows I’m close. Knows it both from the glowstone and the fact that it was stolen from him. Within minutes he will catch up with Stormwind, and whatever her glamor may be good for, I don’t doubt he’ll see through it from ten paces away. It is precisely the sort of thing he is trained for.

My fault.
My fault he has the glowstone — why didn’t I demand it back from him in his bed chamber? It’s too late for regrets, now, but that doesn’t stop me from having them.

The horse behind him — the same little chestnut mare he brought to collect Stormwind with from our valley — means he intends to catch one of us. The glowstone makes it clear that he’s looking for me. I may not be able to use magic to defend myself now, but he owes me a debt and I will shred his honor to pieces if he attempts to take me back to the High Council.

When he is still some thirty paces away, I loosen the look-away charm on my finger, sliding it halfway off for the briefest of moments. I feel its magic flicker around me. Stonefall’s gaze snaps to me as I jam the ring back on. A pair of young boys, walking between the two of us, glance toward the alley, blinking uncertainly. Then they shrug off the shadow they’d seen and continue on.

Stonefall kicks his horse into a trot, swerving around the youths, the chestnut following after him. I turn and jog into the alley, keeping alongside the wall so I don’t accidentally get trampled. Twenty paces in, I feel a wall of magic flow up from the ground ahead of me. The magic curves around to join with the walls on either side of me, rushing past me in the space of a breath. I pivot, heart hammering, and watch as the magic — bluish white to my mage senses — jumps across the alley’s entryway, weaving itself together until it’s as impenetrable as armor.

One should never underestimate a rogue hunter.

The only things that remain within this makeshift prison with me are Stonefall sitting easily on his horse, and the second horse behind him. The chestnut rolls her eyes uncertainly, lifting one front hoof and then the other. His own mount stands perfectly still.

Stonefall continues scanning the alley, trying to pin down my location. The moment I speak, he’ll find me, of course. He’ll find me regardless, because he knows what charm I’m wearing, what to look for. So I do the one thing I can think of before I lose my courage. I slide the look-away from my finger and wait.

He is every inch a rogue hunter now, from the ready stillness with which he sits, to his measuring gaze, to the magical walls he maintains around us effortlessly. I can’t read his expression, can’t guess at his thoughts from the inscrutable mask he wears. His horse shifts, takes a step forward. I raise my hand, palm out, as if I could stop him with all the magic I can no longer use.

“
Peace be upon you,
” he says.

Peace. It’s a promise, in its way. An offer of safety.

“
And upon you, peace
,” I return, and find myself smiling crookedly at him. “Why the trap?” I ask. I can’t afford to make a mistake, even with such a greeting.

“I can’t spend all day chasing you.” He dismounts and approaches, reins in hand. The walls of the spell contract, pulling in until we stand in an elongated bubble of magic, much harder to detect now. It must also be easier to maintain.

I hold my hand up again as he nears me. “You have other things planned for your day?”

His lips quirk as he comes to a stop five paces away. “Not exactly. Though the Council would like me to hunt down Stormwind.”

“Because they don’t trust you to not let me go?” On the other hand, if he wants to prove he’s trustworthy, catching me and bringing me in will restore his reputation in the eyes of the Council.

“Perhaps,” he says. “Perhaps they’re afraid you’ll turn me against them, the way you did the lycan guard.”

“Bah,” I scoff. “I didn’t turn them. I explained the situation. I don’t think they like being misused.”

“It would seem not,” Stonefall agrees wryly. “Though the Council hasn’t yet realized you were at the root of the Guard’s defection.”

I eye him uncertainly. “But you said—”

“It was my guess, not theirs. I suspect I have a greater appreciation for your powers of persuasion than they do.” He looks past me to the end of the alley, then back over his shoulder. “Where are your friends?”

“I already told the Council I don’t have any.”

“You also told them I gave you no help at all, other than a way out.” He studies me as if I were a puzzle he can’t quite put together. And he is a man who is accustomed to working things out. “You made no mention that I told you where Stormwind was being held, or who had the key to her shackles.”

“I didn’t, did I?” I feel a smile growing, and then I’m laughing for the first time in what feels like weeks, laughing even though the movement sends ripples of pain down my arm. “You just want to know how I did it.”

Stonefall almost smiles. “I’m curious.”

An understatement, if ever I heard one. “And if I tell you, then what? You give me your spare horse and directions to a safe haven?” It isn’t a serious question. I’d no more dare tell Stonefall of Val’s bond than I would announce it to the Council.

“The horse?” He glances toward the chestnut as if taken aback. “She’s already yours.”

“What?” I ask, certain I heard him wrong.

Stonefall shrugs. “I kept two horses as a rogue hunter, but I won’t be needing her anymore. I resigned my post this morning as well — on the grounds of my own safety, given the nearly successful attack on my life. If you don’t want her, I suppose I can sell her.”

I stare at him. A rogue hunter resigning his post on the basis of personal safety sounds utterly absurd. A rogue hunter providing a mount to a fugitive seems equally outrageous. Laughter lurks in his eyes, the crinkle of his crow’s feet. “You’re serious.”

“If you want to escape, you’ll need to travel faster than a walk.”

“You really think I can escape?”

He blinks, startled by the question.

“I know you found me because of the glowstone. But I think they — the other mages looking for me — might have my blood. I don’t know how to escape that.”

He smiles thinly, all amusement gone. “You don’t have to. Brightsong wasn’t pleased when the mages who warded your room used your blood—she was there, and even registered a complaint about it with the Council’s scribe. At any rate, as soon as they were done, she evicted them from the room and had your clothes disposed of. Burned, actually. With the sigil itself destroyed, the Council doesn’t have anything to trace you with.”

“She— she did?”

“She was questioned quite thoroughly about it immediately after your escape.” He shrugs. “She pointed out both the health issues and the ethical ones, and suggested that they should have taken greater precautions beforehand so they wouldn’t be on the verge of violating their principles again. It seems half the Council was kept in the dark about the use of blood magic to hold you, and they are not pleased.”

I think I want to be just like Brightsong one day.

Stonefall removes the second horse’s halter and fits her with a proper bridle and reins. As he works, he says, “You’d better get moving. Zahra may be small, but she’s fast and was born in the desert. There’s a change of clothes in the saddlebags, plus some food and water, money, a couple of basic charms. Stormwind’s pack.”

“Stormwind’s—” I begin, and understand. No one has thought to demand the pack from him yet. Without it, the other rogue hunters won’t have anything to establish a trace with. “Why?” I ask. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks down for a moment, then meets my gaze. The anger in his eyes takes me by surprise. “I expected Talon to aid you. As far as I can tell, she did nothing. Then when you got out through your own means, I traced you, and you were moving far too slowly. Of course I’ll help you. I don’t know how you subverted the truth spell, but I do know you not only saved my life, but protected me from the Council. Because of that, I’ve had to answer for some of my actions — for letting you go before you caused any trouble — but I’ve retained both my honor and my freedom.” His eyes drop to my hands. “The
least
I can do is bring you a horse.”

“I see,” I say. “And I thank you.”

“I hope you can ride,” he jokes as he offers me the reins.

I take them uncertainly. “I … don’t think so.” The horse, however “small” it might be considered, is still taller than me at its shoulder. I eye the saddle warily. “How am I supposed to get up there?”

Stonefall rubs a hand over his mouth. “I’ll guide you through mounting. Once you’re up, put on the look-away and we’ll walk together for a bit, till you get a feel for it.”

I smile my thanks at him.

He takes my pack to lash on behind the saddle and pauses. “How long have you been traveling on foot?”

“A few hours.”

A line appears between his brows. “Do you have anything in here you can give me? Something with your scent?”

I grin and hold out my hand for my bag again. “You’d make a great criminal if you ever turned your mind to it.”

Stonefall shakes his head, the corner of his lips quirked. I dig out the skirt I’d worn from Stormwind’s valley on through the Burnt Lands and the desert. I’d changed out of it at the caravanserai, so that my spare clothes would be clean for my foray into the Mekteb. And it seems Kenta hadn’t thought to do my laundry. Even if the Council manages to hire a pack of mercenary lycans, the skirt probably reeks of me more strongly than my own skin.

Stonefall tosses the fabric over the back of his horse, straps on my pack behind the saddle, and helps me through the awkward process of clambering up on my patient new mare, with only my left arm to aid me, bruised fingers and all.

“Use the charm,” Stonefall says once he’s mounted his own horse. “It won’t hide the horse but at least you can use it for now.”

“How about this one instead?” I ask, sliding on the silver wristband.

He nods, eyes crinkling. “That will do very well. Let’s walk. Press your legs gently against her sides.”

On the second attempt, Zahra starts forward at a relaxed walk. Stonefall lets his spell go and urges his horse into step beside me. I suspect the spell had built-in shieldings that kept others away, for no one even glances in our direction from the street beyond. Nor have I seen any sign of Kenta.

Stonefall rides beside me a quarter of an hour, murmuring instructions and twice correcting my grip on the reins. We bypass the town’s central square, taking back streets. He explains not only how to sit a horse, but how to care for it. Then, in another empty alleyway, we come to a stop.

“You really don’t have any other allies out here?” he asks. “Not even that sharp-toothed tanuki?”

I grin, hoping Kenta didn’t nip Stonefall too hard when he snatched the glowstone right out of his hand. “No— that was him leaving. I’m on my own now.”

“You need to find a guide to take you into the desert.”

“How do you know I’m going there?”

“We all know. You owe the phoenix a debt, don’t you? Ravenflight will follow you there whether or not she can trace you.” He gestures to my newly acquired mare. “You need to move fast, disappear among the tribes.”

“I have an idea about that.”

He considers me. I wonder what he can tell of me through the glamor. “You may have family in the desert.”

“I doubt they’d want me.”

He tilts his head, shrugging slightly. “Want has less to do with it than honor and responsibility. Blood ties in the desert are a serious thing.” When I don’t immediately answer, he says, “Think on it. They would do their best to protect you from capture.”

“I’ll think about it,” I agree finally.

He doesn’t look appeased. “The desert is not a forgiving place. Whatever you do, don’t travel alone.”

He cares about this, too. Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me, after he tracked me down to give me his spare horse. But it does, and it makes me feel warm and hopeful despite the odds. “I won’t,” I promise.

He gestures to the wider road our street intersects with. “Follow that road east, and you’ll come to a small town that lies on the caravan route to Fidanya. You’ll be able to get better directions from there.”

“Thank you,” I say. “For all of this.”

He nods.

I knee the horse gently, as he’d taught me. She ignores me. I haven’t quite got this riding thing down yet.

“Hikaru,” Stonefall says. I turn to him, eyebrows raised. He thinks less of the name I gave the Council than the one Stormwind gave him.

“You’re…”

“Yes?”

“Very brave.”

I sit still for a heartbeat. “Thanks,” I manage as Stonefall departs, the word tinged with a faint inflection of awe.

I hadn’t expected to earn such a man’s respect.