Барб Хенди - Between Their Worlds

They were all disciplined in long spells of wakefulness, but lack of sleep had begun to take its toll. Én’nish hoped someone from Magiere’s group of misfits and traitors would show soon.

The city’s guards had not been making her task any easier. They had been seen conducting their own sweeps through the city. Eywodan had surreptitiously learned they were looking for the sage, whom they claimed had been abducted from the guild. The city guards had been questioning people, using both the sage’s description and several possibilities of attire.

Én’nish and her people now knew that Wynn Hygeorht was no longer inside the guild’s castle.

She checked in with Rhysís at each bell that rang during the city’s day, but neither of them had spotted anything noteworthy. Earlier, Rhysís had reported something that gave Én’nish a fragment of hope. A slender woman in a full cloak had arrived at the docks with luggage, and one of the city’s guards had approached her almost immediately. The cloak the woman wore had somewhat matched a description that Eywodan had overhead the guards mention.

Rhysís had not been able to draw close enough to see the woman’s face, but the guard had quickly departed. So it could not have been the sage, and the young woman was soon loaded onto a boat that rowed for a ship anchored in the bay. And Wynn Hygeorht would have never left the city alone.

Most Aged Father had been clear on this point. Magiere’s people were fanatical about remaining together; they had proven so more than once. Still, Én’nish studied that one ship in the bay until dusk, never noticing anything of interest.

Her eyelids drooped and she shook herself, opening them. Sleep could come once their purpose was complete.

A patch of darkness in the street below moved of its own accord.

Én’nish twisted around, scrambling to the side of the warehouse’s roof. A shadow that moved was now their greatest fear after Dänvârfij had told them what had happened when she had gone to speak with Most Aged Father.

Brot’ân’duivé, the traitor, was hunting them again.

She stuck only the top of her head over the rooftop’s edge, just enough to look downward. Had it been only imagination and exhaustion addling her wits? The darkness moved again, and this time she saw it clearly.

It stepped through a pool of light cast by a street lantern, and Én’nish held her breath.

The near-black majay-hì silently padded toward the waterfront’s far end and Rhysís’s position. But along the way, it swerved into a side path and reappeared a block farther into the city on the double-wide street behind the waterfront.

Én’nish climbed the roof to its ridge and ran to leap to the next rooftop ... and the next. When she was one rooftop away from Rhysís, she clicked her tongue five times. He rose like a dark silhouette sprouting from the shakes, and she pointed his attention toward the rear of that building. When he spotted the majay-hì, his return gestures indicated a question.

Follow?

She was torn, not wanting to split up if the dog led them to something important, but also reluctant to leave the port unwatched.

The majay-hì stepped into the light of another lantern. In that light, a shadow passed suddenly over the dog’s head. Én’nish padded silently to the roof’s rear edge for a better angle of view.

A cloaked figure walked right past the majay-hì, vanishing out the other side of the lantern’s light. The majay-hì followed, but even the brief glimpse made Én’nish freeze. The figure had been taller than any human, with broad shoulders for such a stature. Its cloak and hood were a familiar forest gray.

Brot’ân’duivé had appeared and met up with the sage’s black majay-hì, and he was clearly dressed for a hunt.

Én’nish rose on the roof, looking toward Rhysís in the same instant that he looked at her. For the first time, she was glad that she had teamed with him rather than with Tavithê or Eywodan. Dänvârfij was incapable of understanding anguish and the need for vengeance. Én’nish did not see either as a fault; they were imperatives for justice.

As Rhysís began assembling his short bow, Én’nish held up one hand to stop him. He paused, as if with great effort.

They could not yet kill Brot’ân’duivé. The traitor and the majay-hì were on the move—but to where? Any attack now would cut them off from the answer. If the greimasg’äh had slipped up in exposing himself, he might also expose the location of Magiere and the others.

Rhysís finished with his bow just the same and slung it over his shoulder. He stood waiting as Én’nish backed up to take a running leap across to him. Together they followed their quarry from across the waterfront’s rooftops. This was what Én’nish had been waiting for, and they picked the trail of their target.

The majay-hì and Brot’ân’duivé were not difficult to follow, but that in itself left Én’nish wary. At the end of a row of slightly shabby shops across the street below, the pair stopped at the mouth of a broad cutway nearly as wide as the street itself. In that space stood a wagon with a team of two horses.

Én’nish slowed, ever more cautious as she crept to the roof’s rear edge and leaned out to look.

The wagon rolled out into full view, turning the corner with its team pointed away up the street. As it stopped, a short figure stood up in its back. This small one wore a gray robe and full cowl: the sage. But even more than that, the driver riveted Én’nish’s attention.

With his back turned to her where he sat on the bench, reins in hand, she still saw his hood was half pulled down. Over his head was an old, green scarf that held back long, white-blond hair. She had seen that scarf once before.

The sight of Léshil flushed Én’nish with sudden heat.

The sage stepped to the wagon bed’s rear, patting her thigh, and the black majay-hì leaped up to join her. The greimasg’äh followed, and Én’nish heard the flick of reins. The wagon rolled away behind the waterfront, heading north through the city’s bay side.

Én’nish grew more confused and anxious with each heartbeat.

The wagon could only be heading for the city’s northern gate, but where were Magiere, Osha, the girl called Leanâlhâm, and the deviant majay-hì they called Chap? Most Aged Father wanted prisoners for questioning, but the primary need was to capture Magiere. Why would Brot’ân’duivé try to escape with only Léshil, the sage, and the younger majay-hì?

Én’nish locked eyes with Rhysís. They had to act now while Brot’ân’duivé remained in sight. All they need do was kill him from above, or at least incapacitate him. They would then gain Léshil and the sage as hostages.

She longed to kill Léshil, but she accepted that he would be a valuable bargaining tool. Most Aged Father’s given purpose came first, but there would come a time for revenge. She nodded to Rhysís.

Rhysís stood up, notching an arrow and drawing it back. In a blink, they would never again have to watch their own shadows for a traitor. Rhysís grew still, turning so slowly as he tracked his target. The bowstring released.

Én’nish’s gaze flicked to the street below.

The arrow struck Brot’ân’duivé dead center between his shoulder blades.

The greimasg’äh fell back, tumbling off the wagon’s rear to flop facedown on the cobblestones. The sage cried out, and Léshil heaved on the reins. But his own words were lost in the sharp hiss of another arrow from Rhysís’s bow.

The second arrow struck Brot’ân’duivé’s back directly above the first and over his heart.

Én’nish instantly drew her bone knife and set its hooked point into the roof’s edge. She swung over the edge, feeling for any purchase with her foot to quickly reach the street. She dropped, still too high up, hit the cobblestones, and rolled. When she was up again, she waited only long enough for Rhysís to follow.