The Farwalker's Quest (13 page)

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.

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.

To Ariel's dismay, he did not start with the knot at her neck but with the rope at Orion's belly. When it slipped free, the horse tossed his head and relaxed.

Zeke bent to the hobble. Ariel had to mash her lips together to stop herself from hissing at him. Instead she fluttered her fingers to catch his attention. They couldn't possibly escape on anything as noisy as a horse. Zeke ignored her gestures for his own, suggesting that she watch the men. Helpless, she obeyed.

With one hand hindered by his splint, Zeke took an excruciating length of time to untie the hobble. To Ariel's astonishment, when it came loose, he still didn't move to untie her. Instead he slipped the hobble rope around Orion's throat, led him two measly steps, and let the horse drop his nose again to the grass. The boy hunkered against Orion's shoulder so his silhouette couldn't betray him if the Finders should awaken and look up. Straining to interpret every sound, Ariel counted helplessly as Orion's teeth ripped five times at the grass. Only then did Zeke lead him another few steps.

Her mind screamed: they'd never get away taking two steps for every five bites!

Yet Zeke's strategy had merits. Repeatedly one of Ariel's captors thrashed in his sleep. Twice she saw a head lift. All that could be seen were the dark shapes of a girl on a horse cropping grass, not far from where that horse first had been hobbled. Both times, the head dropped back into sleep.

A horseback rider never moved so slowly, nor a night so fast. Zeke began stealing anxious glances at the sky. Ariel had almost grown resigned to being captured a hundred feet from where they had started when her friend picked up the pace. No more grass for Orion. Soon they'd doubled their distance from Elbert and Scarl.

A few moments later, Zeke paused to untie Ariel's hands. She freed her own neck, and then Zeke tied that longer rope around Orion's nose in a makeshift halter. Fearing they'd never control the horse without something better than that, Ariel nonetheless took the loose end when he offered it. Her hands trembled. Surely this was the part when the night would begin erupting with shouts.

Zeke led the horse to a downed log, which he stepped onto. He breathed, “Help me up.”

His familiar voice sent a trill of joy through her. She pulled on his arm as he clambered aboard behind her. She wanted to turn and hug him tight to her heart. Questions flocked to her lips. There was no time for either.

“Hang on tight,” he whispered in her ear. He reached around her to grab a handful of mane and the halter rope so they both had a grip.

In terror, Ariel nudged the horse with her legs. Zeke added
a thump with his heels, and their mount picked up a lazy trot. In the darkness, even this gentle speed stuck Ariel's tongue to the roof of her mouth. Trees and rocks loomed, whisking past on all sides. Frequently Orion lurched left or right, stumbling on the uneven ground. If he lost his footing badly enough to go down, their fall could be deadly. Her heart pounding louder than the horse's hooves in the grass, Ariel clutched tight and bent low, afraid a branch would sweep one or both of them off while Orion kept going. Zeke tried to steer, tugging the rope, but clearly the horse was in charge.

As tense minutes passed without any sound of pursuit, Ariel felt safe to whisper, “Where are the others?”

“What others?”

Part of her had known it already, yet she cringed at the truth. “The Fishers! Your father! Is my mother all right? Why did you come by yourself?”

“Talk later,” Zeke said. “Let's go faster.” He bounced his legs harder against Orion's ribs. As the horse sped slightly, both riders struggled simply to remain mounted.

Ariel noticed that the horse mainly chose to descend. When they jigged out of the trees into a meadow, her heart flipped. She felt exposed to any Finders looking down from above.

“We can't just let Orion go where he wants,” she told Zeke. “He might circle back to Scarl. Besides, we're headed the wrong way.”

“I have an idea that might help.”

Letting Orion slow and then stop, Zeke slithered down. He undid the makeshift halter and tied two knots a hand's width apart in the middle of the rope. Lifting the horse's rubbery lip, he shoved the rope into the gap in Orion's teeth where a bridle
bit would have rested. The horse flopped his tongue around the strange thing in his mouth, but he didn't object. The knots on either side kept the rope from slipping through, so the riders had a rough set of reins. Ariel let herself feel a sparkle of hope.

“How'd you think of that?” she wondered.

“I've been watching and thinking a long while,” he said.

As he rejoined her, Ariel studied the hills emerging from the darkness.

“We've got to cross back over the mountains,” she said. “Do you see where we came down?”

“It was all I could do to keep up,” Zeke replied, “so I doubt I can find the route back. But we've got to get away from them first. We can figure out which direction home is in later.” He nudged Orion back into motion.

Ariel's mind raced. “Maybe someone at the roadhouse would help us!”

When she explained what she'd heard about that place, Zeke shook his head.

“That's what they'll expect,” he argued. “They'll go there straight off.”

“But, Zeke …” Her voice faded. The weight of their challenge fell on her heart. Whatever supplies hid in Zeke's small knapsack couldn't help much. How were two young people alone supposed to evade two angry Finders?

“Let's just keep going as fast as we can,” Zeke added, tilting his face to the paling sky. “They'll wake up soon, if they haven't already.”

Dread sliced through Ariel. It would take only seconds for Scarl and Elbert to see that Orion had done more than hobble away after grass. Cursing would fill the air. Then they'd search—and they'd find.

A hopeless calm settled over her dread. They'd be caught, with horrid results. Until then, they merely played a bitter game to see how long losing would take. The game held a twist of satisfaction, however: Elbert's cruelty had helped her escape. She wondered how the Finders would settle their bet. She'd won that round, her mind jeered. Pretending to play another made it easier for Ariel to think.

“Can't you ask a tree which way to go?” she asked.

When Zeke didn't answer, she swiveled. He shook his head curtly without meeting her eyes.

Afraid to break into his stony demeanor, Ariel looked for another idea. She knew the mountain pass had to lie nearly due west, but so did Elbert and Scarl. Some instinct told her that for this game—hide-and-seek—south would serve better. Her dangling feet twitched that direction like the needle of an inverted compass.