Jon Sprunk - Shadow's master

Egil made a small shrug. “All right.”

“You know these lands pretty well?”

“Been hunting and trapping them all my life. Hunting's slow this season, so I thought taking you all for a walk would be a nice change.”

A smile tugged at Caim's lips. “Okay. There's only one hitch. We're leaving now.”

“If you can wait a bit, I'll get my gear. Or we can stop at my place on the way out. It's not far from here.”

They agreed upon a price, which was less than Caim anticipated, and headed around to the back of the hostel where the Eregoths were leading the horses out of the stable. Caim made introductions as he swung into his saddle.

After shaking Egil's hand, Aemon said, “I wish we could have stayed longer. For the animals' sake. They're still a little thin.”

“That can't be helped,” Caim said.

They left the yard. Ice crackled under their steeds' hooves as they rode through the dark streets. Caim kept a sharp watch as they rode past rows of taverns and flophouses. A dog barked a few blocks away. Egil's house was small, little more than a wooden shack with a peaked roof. Caim and the others waited in the lane while he went inside.

“What's this guy's story?” Malig asked.

“Teromich sent him.” Caim looked over his shoulder. “He knows the Northlands, and we can afford him.”

“I hope he doesn't turn out to be another fucking setup.”

Caim nodded. The shadows were quiet, which he took for a good sign. And there was always Kit. She was probably looking over them. At least, he wanted to think so. She'd certainly been more attentive since they left Liovard, for better and worse.

The door opened, and Egil came out with a pack over his shoulder. A girl wrapped in a woolen housecoat stood in the doorway. She kissed him good-bye and closed the door as Egil walked over to them.

“Do you have a mount?” Caim asked.

“No,” Egil replied. “But I'll keep up.”

He led them through the dim streets past the outlying buildings and onto a wide, snow-packed road. Once they were beyond the town, Caim wanted to dig his heels into his mount's sides and take off, but he kept it to a steady walking pace. A wind blew down from the north, searing the insides of his nose and mouth.

They rode for several candlemarks, and the sky darkened from slate gray to charcoal. The wastes spread before them, a magnificent desolation bereft of even an occasional hill or wood to break up the monotony. The others couldn't see much beyond the light of the two lanterns they carried, but they weren't missing anything. They traveled on what passed for a road, an ice-encrusted trail broad enough for a pair of riders abreast. Egil walked at the head of the small company with one of the lanterns. Good to his word, he managed to keep up. In fact, from time to time he would range ahead of them. While Caim rode, fighting the urge to yawn, he studied their guide. Egil's coat was patched together from a variety of animal skins, the hood flapping on his back. He also had stiff hide gauntlets that came up nearly to his elbows and furry pants tucked into his boots. His only gear was his belt knife and the rucksack, yet he moved with the practiced ease of someone at home in his environment.

Caim was rubbing his gloves to work some warmth into his extremities when an amazing thing happened. Crimson pinpricks appeared in the sky. At first it was just a handful peeking through the inky veil of the night sky, but then more appeared until they covered the firmament like an array of twinkling rubies.

“Saronna's ivory teats!” Dray swore.

The others stopped and admired the view. Something bothered Caim about them, but he couldn't say what.

Then Aemon said, “They're all wrong.”

The familiar constellations were gone. This time of year the Sickle should have been right over their heads, but that space was empty save for a few red stars in a different pattern. Caim saw something that sort of resembled the Hind, but it was much too far north and its brightest stars were in the wrong position. A superstitious dread crept into his chest.

“How can the stars be wrong?” Malig asked. “By the Dark, Caim. Where in the seven hells did you bring us?”

Caim shook his head. I wish I knew.

“How much longer do you want to keep going tonight?” Egil asked, coming back to meet them.

Caim looked to the horses. “I suppose this is far enough. I don't figure we'll find much shelter out here.”

“Not much,” Egil said. “There's a few places where hunters hole up when the weather gets bad, but most of them are off the road.”

“What cities lay north of here?”

Egil shook his head. “Aren't any cities on the wastes. A few villages, but you can go days out here without seeing another person.”

That didn't make sense. Caim remembered his last moments with Sybelle in her sanctum. As her life bled out on the floor, his aunt had mentioned a name. Erebus. He hadn't learned anything more in the months since to explain what she'd meant. Where was this Erebus? He wanted to come right out and ask, but held back.

It started to snow as they bedded down. While their mounts huddled under tarps, the men slept on the ground huddled around a fire that did little to ward off the bitter cold. Caim listened to the soft fall of flakes on the snow. When the others had closed their eyes and drifted off, he held out his arm. The shoulder was stiff where he'd been wounded. Caim went to the place in his mind where his power resided and called for a shadow to aid in his healing. Moments passed without an appearance, but he could sense them beyond the firelight, watching him with invisible eyes. Sweat formed on his upper lip. What's wrong? You lost your taste for my blood?

Finally, he dropped his arm and gave up. Maybe the shadows were acting strange because of this place. He hadn't felt like himself since crossing the mountains. Sighing, Caim closed his eyes. He had just drifted into the first, light throes of sleep when a gentle touch caressed his temple.

“You awake, darling?” Kit asked.

He opened his eyes to find her lying on his chest, her chin propped in one hand as her other hand teased his upper lip. In the dim firelight, he could almost believe she was real. It made his blood quicken. She was more than beautiful. He knew every inch of her face. He could close his eyes and see the exact shade of her violet eyes.

“Let's sneak away,” she said.

“You're crazy,” he whispered. “It's freezing.”

“I'll keep you warm.”

“You're not-”

She levitated up a few inches and frowned. “Not what?”

Caim stifled a groan. This was the last thing he wanted right now, an argument with a spirit in the middle of the night after a long day, and with a longer day ahead of him tomorrow. “I'm just tired, Kit. Let me sleep and we'll talk tomorrow.”

She sunk back to press against him, but the frown didn't move. “There's a place up ahead if you stay on this path.”

“What kind of place?” He lowered his voice as Aemon rolled over in his sleep. “A town?”

“Not quite. But there's people.”

“Is it safe?”

She shrugged. “I was thinking we could stay the night.” Her fingers walked up his chest, making goose bumps on his flesh. “Get a room to ourselves.”

Caim closed his eyes. “All right. If you let me sleep, we'll do that.”

“Really?” Her lips made buzzing tingles on his cheek. “Sleep tight, love. I'll keep watch.”

He drifted back into the pull of slumber with the snow falling around him, into a series of interesting dreams.

Josey leaned back in the wobbly camp chair as she shoved the papers away. Another dispatch had arrived from the capital this morning. Hubert must be keeping the court scribes working day and night to keep up, not to mention the messenger service.