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CHAPTER TWELVE

“What kind of plan were you thinking of?” Tia asks as I fish the pouch from around my neck and dump the stone into my hand.

“The kind where we have some idea what we’re doing,” I retort. “Okay, you ugly chunk of rock, are you ready to give us answers?”

The stone doesn’t even bother to react.

“I really hate you,” I tell it.

Jaimin winces. “That may not be helpful.”

“Neither would ‘accidentally’ losing it amongst all these other rocks, but it would make me feel better,” I mutter, then take a deep breath. “Fine. Here’s the thing, oh source of all creation. I don’t know what you want me to do, and yes, I know, you’ll guide me, but can you tell me how you plan to guide me?”

~Yes~

It seems begrudging somehow, and I want to ask the others if they noticed the stone’s attitude problem, but since it’s actually cooperating, now doesn’t seem like the time.

“Thank you.” See? I can be nice. “Do you know who we’re looking for?”

~Yes~

Okay, we can work with that. “Do you know their name?”

~Yes~

“That’s a good start,” Jaimin comments.

Tia pulls a face. “Is it? I don’t know the names of every single person on the continent, and even if I did, we don’t have time to list all of them.”

I’m still ignoring them, mulling over my options. It knows the champion’s name. What else?

“Do you know where they are?”

~Yes~

“What they look like?”

~Yes~

This isn’t going the way I thought it would. “Why can’t we just send for them, then?” I demand in sheer frustration, knowing it’s too complicated for the stone to answer.

A sense of helplessness is the only response.

“Let’s approach this differently,” Jaimin suggests calmly. “The stone obviously can’t just tell us who we’re looking for and directly where to go. Are we on the right road?”

~Yes~

“We bloody well should be, since this is the road it said we should take,” I mumble. My head echoes with the distinct sound of someone blowing a raspberry. I guess the stone heard me. “Do I need to stop every person we pass on the road?”

~No~

“You’ll tell me if I need to stop someone?”

~Yes~

“Well, that’s something.” Tia sounds relieved. “Leicht and I would be constantly rescuing you if you had to accost every traveler.”

I’d argue that I can take care of myself, but I’ve seen the armed guards that travel with some of the merchant wagons. Unless I wanted to seriously harm them—which I don’t—I couldn’t fight them all off.

“Do we need to stop in every village?” I’m hoping it says yes to this one—if we have to stop at every village, I’ll have more reasons to suggest we stay the night there instead of camping by the roadside.

~No~

Tia snorts. “There goes that plan, hey.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stupid stone. Never on my side. “You’ll tell me when we have to stop?”

~Yes~

Remembering what Master said last night, I ask, “Are we going to Lenledia?”

~Yes/No~

I resist the urge to throw the stone deeper into the quarry.

“Let me try,” Jaimin says, taking it from me. “At this point in time, do we need to go to Lenledia?”

~Yes~

“But that may change?”

~Yes~

I’m an idiot. Of course there’s a chance the person we’re looking for is going to move around. “So for now we can plan to stay on the highway until Lenledia?”

~Yes~

“Excellent.” Lenledia’s only a week or so away. Unless our quarry leaves there immediately and stays moving indefinitely, we’ll catch up to them soon. And then I can hand over the stone, wish them well, and make my way back to the City of Knowledge, where I’ll never have to see a horse or a tent again. “Where’s my map? Did we bring a map?” I look at Tia, who rolls her eyes and pulls a folded piece of paper from one of the many pockets sewn into her leathers.

“Here.” She unfolds it, and we all lean in to see.

“You’re the horseman,” I tell Jaimin. “How far can we get before they need to rest again?”

He taps his lip, studying the thickly drawn line that represents the highway. “Probably here,” he says at last, pointing to a village that doesn’t look that far away on the map. “At about lunchtime. And then we could stop here”—his fingers move along the line of the highway to where the bridge over the River Harnc is—“for the day. Unless there’s any urgent need to move quickly, I don’t think we should push the horses too hard.”

“I agree,” Tia says. “Things look quiet so far, but we don’t want the horses worn out if you suddenly need to run.”

She’s the warrior, and he’s the horseman, so it would be stupid of me to argue. “At that pace, how long to get to Lenledia?”

“That’s a little faster than it would take a good carriage,” Jaimin says. “Eight or nine days, maybe.”

Still in line with my original reckoning, then. And if I remember right, there’s a good-sized town at the Harnc river crossing. And a town means inns. Suddenly, I’m extremely grateful for greedy traders. That bridge was expensive as fuck to build, but the merchants’ guild of Lenle agreed to split the cost of hiring mages to help with the king of the time, because they wanted a feasible overland way to get goods to the City of Knowledge and through the passes to the northern countries. I’ve never seen the bridge for myself, but Tia says that from the air, she can see it from miles away.

“That sounds like our best option, then,” I say casually. “Stone? Do you agree with this plan?”

~Yes~

Wow, finally something going my way.

“I have some more questions, if you don’t mind.” Jaimin’s frowning, his expression faintly troubled. I gesture for him to be my guest. I’m enjoying this little reprieve from jostling around on horseback.

“Are there zombies already loose on the continent?”

And there goes my relaxation. I wait tensely for the stone’s reply.

~Yes~

“Actually loose? Not contained by their masters?”

~Yes~

Tia swears viciously.

“Have they caused harm to innocents?”

~Yes~

Now it’s my turn to swear. I stand and pace away, kicking rocks. Then a thought occurs, and I swing around. “Do the councils know?” Is this one of the questions they asked while I was saying goodbye to my class?

~Yes~

“And they’re acting on this information?”

~Yes/No~

Before I can reach out to shout angry expletives at my master, Jaimin says, “Is everything that can be done at this time being done?”

~Yes~

His jaw sets. “Is there anything we can do, aside from what we’re doing?”

~No~

“Dammit,” I hiss. “Fucking steaming piles of disease-ridden gods’ turds!”

Jaimin’s voice is still steady. “Are we likely to encounter zombies on our travels?”

~Yes~

Tia’s gaze clashes with mine, both of us stunned. Why didn’t I think of that? My focus was on possible living minions of our enemies, not the undead ones. I was sure they’d keep those in reserve for a mass attack.

“Dragon fire,” she whispers. “Magefire. We can handle this.”

We can. I think.

“Will you warn us if there’s a zombie in the area?” I manage.

~Yes/No~

“Well, that’s comforting.”

Jaimin’s staring at the stone. “I don’t know what to ask next,” he confesses, looking a little lost. It’s the first time I’ve seen him less than confident, and it scares me. He’s a master, the strongest healer of his generation, twelve years older and more experienced than I am… if he doesn’t know what to do, how am I supposed to?

A gentle pulse of assurance from the stone brings me out of my funk. “We’ll have time for more questions later,” I say, trying to sound like I’m not on the verge of riding into the nearest village, taking up some useful trade, and spending the rest of my life in obscurity. “Let’s get back on the road now. Maybe the… steady, uh, rhythm of the horses’ hooves will get our brains thinking.”

Tia looks at me as though I’ve gone insane, but Jaimin nods. “I’ve always found riding to be an astonishing way to clear the head,” he says, straight-faced.

“Astonishing,” I agree. “Absolutely. Tia, is Leicht nearby? We won’t leave you here alone, but it’ll take a few minutes to get the horses ready.”

Her gaze goes slightly distant. “He’s on his way. The sheep are apparently very good around here.”

I don’t know if I want to take meal recommendations from a dragon.

Jaimin and I have no trouble catching the horses—they seem to like him a lot—and I make sure Sweetie has some more water before I tighten the girth and painfully haul myself into the saddle. Leicht lands, graceful as always, and less than a minute later launches again with Tia safely on his back.

Jaimin and I go back down the overgrown quarry road to the highway, and are soon cantering again. Another few hours, and we’ll stop for lunch. This is fine. In a week, we’ll be in Lenledia, where hopefully the champion will still be.

Everything is under control.

Except the world is tilting sideways.

No, wait, I’m tilting sideways. Am I falling out of the saddle?

I haul back hard on the reins as the saddle slides to the side, desperately kicking my feet free of the stirrups and trying to roll as I hit the ground head and shoulder first. Fortunately, Sweetie’s slowed enough that I don’t get trampled, and I scramble away from her deadly hooves, then lie in the muddy road, panting.

What. The. Fuck?

“Talon?” There’s alarm in Jaimin’s voice as he approaches, and I lift my head.

“I’m fine,” I groan. Except for my dignity, which is never going to recover. What even happened?

A distant memory stirs, and I sit up. Sweetie’s standing a few yards away, patiently waiting. My saddle is hanging upside down, the strap across her back and the seat dangling under her belly. There’s about half an inch of daylight visible between belly and saddle. “But I tightened the girth!” I exclaim.

Jaimin reins in beside me and swings down. “This is my fault,” he says apologetically, though I swear his lips are twitching. “I forgot to tell you that she likes to hold her breath right before you tighten the girth. You have to check it twice and make sure it’s actually tight enough.”

My eyes narrow as I scramble to my feet and stalk over to my horse. Leaning close to her ear, I hiss, “So that’s how you want to do this? Fine, then. It’s war.”

Late in the afternoon, I’m forced to admit that Sweetie is winning the war.

I tried. Really, I did. I was ruthless about keeping her on the road and at the pace we set. I stayed in the saddle. When we prepared to ride again after breaks, I tightened the girth twice, just so she couldn’t mess with me. And even though I swear she went out of her way to make the ride as bumpy as possible, I never made a peep about it. Bruises? What bruises? Aches and pains? Pffft. She will never know how much I hurt right now. How desperate I am for a long soak in a hot tub.

Except I think she does know, because this whole time I’ve been grooming her, she’s been making it as difficult as possible. But only when Jaimin’s looking the other way.

Sneaky Sweetie.

So far, she’s stepped on my feet—both of them, at different times—shifted so suddenly that I was knocked onto my ass, and overturned the water bucket so violently that it splashed me. Despite all that, I’ve done my best to curry and brush her, check her for ticks and other roadside nasties, and now I’m trying to check her hooves. “Trying” being the relevant word, because she’s not cooperating.

I straighten after my fifth attempt to get her to lift her leg and go to look her in the eye. “Listen, if you want to get a sharp stone stuck in there until it bruises or gets infected so people will say what a horrible person I am, fine. Just remember, though… it’s going to hurt you more than me. I’ve got no problem selling you to the butcher for dog meat and finding myself a nice, biddable horse with a decent name.”

She snorts, and I half expect smoke to come out of her nose.

“What are you saying?” Jaimin demands, sounding completely exasperated. “Gods turds’, Talon, are you threatening your horse? She can’t understand you!”

I narrow my eyes, not taking them off Sweetie’s. “Oh, she understands.”

His sigh makes me feel a little embarrassed. This is not how I want the great and powerful master healer to think of me—as the idiot whose horse gets the better of him.

“Are you done?” he asks. “She looks well-brushed. Let’s settle her in a stall and get her something to eat.”

For a split second, I’m tempted to agree. But the fact is, I don’t want to be the asshole who neglected his horse. Even if we are at war.

“She won’t let me check her hooves,” I say finally.

“Oh. Show me what you’re doing. That can be tricky.” He sounds solemn, but when I glance over my shoulder at him, there’s a twinkle of amusement in his gaze. I hate the way he always seems to be laughing at some inside joke. Doesn’t he know that he should be an old grouch like most of the other masters?

“Okay,” I agree. The hoof pick is still in my hand. I can show him. All I have to do is bend over and present my ass to him while I try to get Sweetie to raise her damn hoof.

To my relief, he moves, coming around Sweetie’s side with me to get a better view. Well, a view of the hoof instead of my ass. I disagree that it’s better .

Bending, I grab her hoof?—

“No, stop. She won’t cooperate if you do it that way,” he says immediately. “She doesn’t understand what you’re doing.” Suddenly, there’s a warm body pressed up to my side, bent over next to me. His hand covers mine, big and warm and surprisingly calloused, and he repositions my palm higher on Sweetie’s leg. “Start here, and run your hand down her leg. Like this. A firm but gentle stroke.” He guides me in the motion even as air catches in my chest. I barely notice when my horse lifts her hoof. “There you go. Talon?”

“Yes,” I gasp, bringing my eyes back into focus. “Uh… thank you.” In my defense, it’s not easy to concentrate on a horse when an attractive man is holding your hand and talking in his warm, delicious voice about firm stroking.

As he straightens, I adjust my stance to hide the part of me that would be very happy to discuss his “firm but gentle stroke” technique, and hope he puts the flush in my cheeks down to the increased blood flow from being bent over.

Sweetie hasn’t picked up any stones, just a bit of mud, so I clear that out, then, with Jaimin supervising, check her other three hooves.

It’s a relief when he goes to talk to the inn’s stablehand about food for the horses, and I settle Sweetie into her stall for the night and get her more water. “I guess I owe you a partial apology for the whole butcher thing,” I grumble. “The hoof-cleaning was on me, not you. The rest, though…” I shake my head. “I’ll remember it all.”

She ignores me, drinking some water, and I open the stall door to step out. That’s when she shoves me in the back, hard, sending me stumbling into the thoroughfare… and directly into Jaimin’s arms.

“Careful,” he says, tightening his hold while I get my feet under me. “Are you okay? Did you trip?”

My whole face burning hot—both with embarrassment and from that brief moment when our bodies were pressed together from chest to knee—I step back and look over my shoulder at Sweetie, prepared to make another threat.

She’s watching me. Expectantly. Does she want me to sell her?

No. Maybe she just wants me to look like a fool in front of Jaimin. That makes a lot more sense.

“Did she push you? I bet she’s impatient for dinner,” he says, moving past me and securing the stall door, then petting Sweetie’s nose. She pushes into his palm, eager for the attention… then nudges his chest, knocking him slightly off-balance. He takes a half step back to compensate, and for a moment, he’s pressed flush against me again. “Sorry,” he apologizes as we move apart. “I’ll go see what’s holding up the feed. You can go up to your room, if you like.”

I don’t look at him, focused instead on Sweetie’s face. “I’m going now,” I reply. “Thank you for your help.”

He pats my shoulder, and I pretend the touch doesn’t burn. “Of course.”

As he walks away, I lean closer to my horse. “I don’t know what your game is, but you can quit it. We’re on very important business. Your job is to carry me where I need to go so I can do my job. If we all do our jobs, none of us will end up dead.” Maybe. “So let’s call a truce, because we’re on the same team.”

She nickers and gives me an innocent look. I don’t know whether to trust it, but since I don’t speak horse, there’s nothing else to do except go up to my room and hope we get along better tomorrow.

While Jaimin and I were getting the horses settled, Tia took all our stuff up to our rooms—for which I’ll be forever grateful. Except when I get up there, I find it’s only one room.

“Stop griping,” she orders. “There’s plenty of space, and I rented the whole room, so we have privacy.”

I stare down the line of four cot-sized beds that definitely don’t have the generous, plush mattress I’ve been dreaming of all day. “Don’t they have anything else? Why didn’t you say—we could have looked for another inn.”

She rolls her eyes. “Talon, I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but we’re already conspicuous enough. A mage, a healer, and a dragon rider traveling together—people who know how to recognize us are going to remember us. If our enemy is, by some chance, looking for us, we want to be as unmemorable as possible.”

The blank expression on my face must give away the fact that I have no idea what she’s talking about, and she sighs. “Three people, two on horseback, one in leathers, flashing money around—say, on three big rooms at one of the better inns—will get everyone’s attention. It’s enough that some people will notice us. Let’s make it so that as far as most people are concerned, we’re just passing travelers.”

“We are just passing travelers,” I protest, not ready to let go of my dreams of comfort.

“Yes. But we want them to think we’re poor, boring travelers. Maybe mercenaries heading south for winter work. Not travelers on a mission with money to spend.”

Reluctantly, I begin to see her point. And at least I still get to sleep in a bed. But… “I really wanted a hot bath.”

“I asked, and there’s a public bathhouse on the next street,” she advises. “I’m going to head there now.”

A shared bath. And here I thought the joys of dormitory living had ended when I graduated.

This had all better be worth it, I think toward the stone. It doesn’t respond.