Page 20

Mad Dogs and a New Friend?

K haosti leads his prancing horse into the gateway, and soon I’m passing beneath what remains of the archway. It must be ten feet deep, almost like a tunnel. Stella is no happier than I am. She nickers and sidesteps, and my hands tighten on the reins. A shiver prickles down my skin, and she senses it, dancing beside me.

“Quiet, girl,” I say, sliding my hands over her shoulder. She calms, and then we’re through and into what remains of the city itself. This is likely the main thoroughfare. The street is wide but lined with debris where the buildings have collapsed. I’m guessing it was once a beautiful place, but now it’s a travesty.

Zayne comes up beside me, leading his horse, and gives me a look, as if to say, “Do you really want to go?” The answer is a resounding no, but it’s not as though I have a lot of choices. Or any at all. If I want to find out anything, then I have to follow Khaosti’s lead.

Still, I need more information, so I call out to him, “What do you know about this man Thanouq?”

“Nothing. Except that he knows the way to the Crone.”

I glare at him. “Grrr. Why am I not surprised?”

He whirls around to face me with a snarl, and I can almost see the wolf behind his eyes. Sometimes I think he might be more wolf than man. “I know my brother thought you important. Therefore, I’m going to do my best to keep you alive and follow his wishes. Is that enough for you?”

Not really, but he’s already turned away again and is heading deeper into the city. I cast a sideways look at Zayne and shrug, then I follow.

We walk for about half an hour in silence. I can’t help thinking that we might wake something if we make a sound. I’m not sure I want to take the risk. Still, our footsteps and the clop of the horse’s hooves sound loud enough to wake the dead.

The sun is going down, and I don’t want to be out on these broken streets when darkness falls. I’m overcome by a sense of dread in this place; it’s definitely haunted by its dead. I breathe in, and the faint smell of smoke mingling with dust tinges the air. I’m guessing someone must be here somewhere. I’m just not sure I want to meet them, at least not in the dark.

As night slides over the city, shadows form, filling the narrow side streets.

There’s a rushing sound from the left. I come to an abrupt standstill. Then I whirl around. Something’s coming from down one of the side streets. Fast. Khaosti slides the sword from the scabbard on his saddle—God, I hope he knows how to use it—and positions himself in front of me, protecting me from whatever it is that’s speeding toward us.

“Stay back,” he growls, just as a pack of huge dog-like creatures appears out of the shadows. They’re almost as tall as a man, with coarse black fur, bloodshot eyes, and huge dribbling teeth. Zayne grabs my hand and drags me backward. I pull Stella with me, so we’re pressed against the wall. I wish I had a sword, not that I could do anything with one if I had it, but I feel so helpless. I search around me for anything I can use as a weapon.

“Rocks,” I say. There are enough of those around in the piles of rubble. I grab one and hurl it at the closest of the beasts. It hits the creature on its ugly snout but doesn’t slow it down.

Khaosti whirls his sword around like an expert. The first one is almost on him, and he swings the blade, slicing the head from the body, and dark blood gushes from the neck. Ugh. But there are more coming. He stabs the next one through its huge chest as it leaps toward him.

“Oh God, we’re going to die,” I mutter, hurling another rock. I’m not sure my rocks are doing anything except maybe distracting them but at least flinging them is keeping me from collapsing into a gibbering mess.

“We’re not going to die,” Zayne replies, hurling a continuous blast of rocks.

“Oh, yes, we are. There are too many.” As soon as Khaosti cuts one down, another takes its place.

Suddenly, Khaosti is not alone. Another man appears as if from nowhere. He’s tall like Khaosti. That’s all I can make out because he’s moving so fast. They stand back-to-back, both swinging their swords. I drop my rock—I don’t think it’s needed—and watch in awe. It’s like some sort of blood-drenched dance. Swing and slice and stab. Until finally, there’s nothing left to kill.

I turn my attention to the newcomer.

Whoa. He is huge. About the same height as Khaosti, but he’s broader at the shoulders and dressed in lots of leather: leather pants tucked into long black boots and a long leather coat. He has a sword scabbard over his shoulder and a knife at his waist.

He stares at me with dark blue eyes, an arrested expression on his face. A beard covers the lower half of his face, tawny in color to match his tawny hair. He’s astonishingly handsome under all that hair.

Something nudges me in the side, and I wince and turn to scowl at Zayne. There’s a disgusted expression on his face.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re staring.”

Was I? I guess so. But he’s well worth staring at. I look back to find him still regarding me, a slow smile curving his lips. I find an answering smile curving my own, and I’m about to step forward and introduce myself when Khaosti shoves himself between us. There’s a scowl on his face as well—I’m beginning to think he and Zayne might be related. He’s covered in a lot of blood, and the sword still hangs from his hand. Maybe now is not the time to piss him off. However tempting that might be.

“Thanks,” I say instead. “Good job.” I take a step to the side and peer around him at the newcomer. “Thank you as well. That was very…” I trail off as he stares at me blankly. He opens his mouth, and words come out. At first, they make no sense, and I realize he’s speaking a different language. Then my brain clicks in and translates for me. I know this language. I must have lived here before. He just said, “You’re welcome.” I frown because he’s still looking at me, like maybe he knows me. But I’m sure I’d remember him, except for the little fact of my amnesia. So maybe he does know me. “Have we met?” I ask in what I presume is Valandrian.

“No.”

Beside me, I hear Zayne mutter, “What the fuck.” I’m guessing he doesn’t understand.

The newcomer raises one brow. “Are you the one?” he asks.

“The one?”

“That Khendril spoke of. He said I would know you by the token you carry with you always.”

My hand automatically goes to the amber pendant at my neck. I slowly pull it out, and it seems to glow in the dim light. I hear the hiss of his indrawn breath.

“You are the one.” His tone is almost reverent, and I wonder what this Khendril told him about me. It sort of makes me feel like a fraud. I slip the pendant back beneath my t-shirt.

“You’re Thanouq?” Khaosti says. Unlike Zayne, he clearly understands the language. “What did Khendril tell you?”

“Later,” he replies. “Now we need to get off the streets. It’s not good to be out after dark.” He waves a hand at the dead beasts. “There are worse predators than darkmaws within these walls.”

Sounds like a plan. I glance at Khaosti; he’s still scowling, but then he gives a short nod. He turns back and wipes his sword on the matted fur of one of the dog-like creatures, then looks around for his horse. The animal is not far away, and he sheaths his sword and leads it back to our little group.

“My thanks as well,” he says. “That was well-timed.”

Thanouq shrugs. “I got a report that strangers had been sighted approaching the city and thought I would come and see what brings you here. We don’t get many visitors.”

“You live here?” Khaosti asks.

“Some of the time. I’ve been expecting you for three years. We’ll talk later. Now we need to get inside.”

Full darkness has fallen, though one of the moons has risen, giving enough light to see. I become aware of sounds around us: the call of some night bird, something shifting in the rubble. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Are you all right?” Thanouq asks. “I could carry you.”

Khaosti’s body stiffens, and he glares between us. I’m so tempted, but perhaps not. I don’t know this man, after all. “Thanks, but I can walk.”

“Pity.”

He turns and heads off down one of the side streets. We all stand in silence, as if we’re not sure what to do. Then I pick up Stella’s reins and hurry to catch up. I sense the other two following. Zayne comes up beside me. “You understand what they’re saying?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck. Well, tell me if there’s anything I need to know.”

I pat his arm. “I will.”

As we walk, I’m aware of others falling in behind us. I glance back and catch their dark forms bringing up the rear—friends of Thanouq, I hope.

As we walk through the gloomy city, lights flicker on in the buildings on either side of us—small, sputtering orange flames. The city isn’t abandoned after all.

It’s probably only ten minutes before we come to another gateway, almost as big as the one entering the city. It has an actual wrought iron gate and a guard standing at attention. He’s dressed in some sort of livery, like a medieval soldier, with an emblem on his chest—though I can’t see the details—and holding a fucking great spear. He salutes Thanouq as we approach, and the gate slowly rises.

And once again, I’m really not sure it’s a good idea to go inside.

After all, what do we really know about Thanouq?

A few moments later, I look around. I’m not sure what I expected on the other side of the gate, but this isn't it. It’s almost like civilization, if civilization had a cousin in an alternate universe. At least this place doesn’t scream “demolition zone” like the rest of the city. The grounds are clear, the buildings clean, and the stone gleams a pristine white. There’s even a cute little tree growing in the center of the courtyard and lights glowing in the windows. It’s weirdly welcoming.

The only thing out of place is a huge, toppled statue of a man sprawled across the paving stones. The stone figure looks as if he’s had one too many. No one’s bothered to pick him up and place him back on his empty pedestal, and I wonder why. I glance across and find Khaosti staring at it, a frown on his face.

The courtyard is square, with tall buildings on three sides and the wall behind us. A great big double door opposite is obviously the main entrance. Thanouq heads toward it and turns to face us just as a young man approaches from the left.

“This is Raffi,” Thanouq says. “He’ll look after your horses for you.” He must have seen something in my face because he continues, “I promise they will be well cared for.”

I’m not sure I trust anyone with Stella, but the boy looks nice. He has a kind face. I turn and kiss Stella on the nose, and she nickers.

“Go with him, Stella. The nice man will look after you.” I watch as he leads the horses away, then turn back to our host. He’s staring at me again, and while I’m not attracted to him—hey, I’m not that shallow—there’s something about him that draws me in. A sense of… power. But it’s more than that; it’s like I don’t know him, but everything inside me tells me to trust him.

He waves a hand toward the entrance behind him. “My house is your house,” he says.

Aw, isn’t that nice?

He finally drags his gaze from me to encompass the rest of our little group. “Do you need to clean up before we talk?”

I glance down at myself.

I am filthy; dusty, dirty, and spattered with what I suspect is mad dog blood, but I really want to find out what Thanouq knows. So, he’ll just have to put up with the dirt.

“Let’s talk first,” I say. “Clean-up later.” At that moment, my stomach rumbles.

Thanouq smiles. “And perhaps some food.”

I like the man already.

He turns and heads inside. I glance at Khaosti; he’s not moving. “So far so good,” I say. After all, we’ve made it here in one piece.

He frowns.

Grrr. “Look, we came here to find this man Thanouq, didn’t we? And we’ve found him. Why the grumpy face?”

“I don’t trust him,” Khaosti answers.