Gambler brought himself upwind from the charger, which instantly caught the scent of felivet and began prancing in terror. Gambler yanked the bush out of the ground with his teeth, then ran right at the great beast.
The charger, inured to fire and battle but not felivets, did what any sensible horse would do.
It bolted into the night.
Gambler rejoined us and we fled with Renzo. The knight couldn’t follow us without his horse, but it was only a matter of time before they reunited.
Then I would see whether the Knight of the Fire would do for us what we could not hope to do for ourselves.
53.
My Desperate Plan
“Khara! Tobble! Get up!”
Khara was on her feet with a speed that even a felivet would admire. Tobble was not, but I grabbed him and practically threw him onto Vallino.
“What is it?” Khara asked, not a trace of sleepiness in her voice.
“The Knight of the Fire. And, um, well, we found someone.”
Khara froze in her tracks. She peered into the dark and asked, “Who is this?”
“The knight was torturing him,” I explained.
“I don’t care if the knight was eating him for breakfast,” Khara snapped. Renzo moved closer. His face was covered with soot, his hair singed, his clothes tattered, but Khara instantly recognized him. “You!”
“It’s the horse thief!” Tobble cried.
“Delighted to see you again.” Renzo bowed.
“Are you insane?” Khara said to me. “You’ve brought the Knight of the Fire down on us? And for”—she rolled her eyes—“him?”
“The knight was already after you,” Renzo said. “Why do you think he was torturing me?”
“And I’m supposed to believe you resisted?” Khara demanded.
“No.” Renzo shrugged. “I would have given you up happily, but I didn’t know where you were. If you’d like, I could go back and tell him.”
For a boy who’d been well on his way to becoming a smoked ham, he did not seem the least abashed or grateful.
“What have you done?” Khara turned her anger on Gambler.
“What I asked him to do,” I answered, jumping in. “I couldn’t leave Renzo to burn.”
“And the knight?” she asked.
“It will take him a while to find his horse,” I said. “But then he’ll come after us.”
“Yes,” Khara said, exasperated. “He will!”
“That’s my hope,” I said.
“There is one bright spot,” Renzo said. He gave a small shrug. “That is, if you’d care to hear it.”
“You’re trying my patience,” Khara said through clenched teeth.
“The knight’s horse threw a shoe. He was muttering about it while I roasted.”
Khara nodded. “That is good news, assuming you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
“It’ll slow him down some. And if we move at top speed and keep our heads low . . .” Khara rubbed her eyes. “Well, at the very least, it’ll take a bit longer for him to kill us.”
Just then, a filthy bundle of fur and slobber bounded toward us.
“Dog!” Renzo cried. He pulled a bloody piece of fabric from the animal’s mouth. “I see you brought a souvenir from the knight. Good work, my friend.”
Dog caught sight of me and galloped over, sniffing, snorting, and waggling with embarrassing enthusiasm.
“He likes you,” Renzo commented.
“The feeling is not mutual,” I said, pushing Dog off before he could deliver a kiss to my face.
I put my hands to my mouth and yelled at the top of my lungs, “Save us! Save us!” Then, more quietly, I turned to the group and added, “Now we should flee.”
We fled.
Renzo rode one of the packhorses, Khara and Tobble rode Vallino, and I had my own horse, Shadewing, with whom I had an uneasy truce: so long as I didn’t jerk on the reins or make sudden loud noises, he deigned to carry me. Gambler and Dog raced alongside us.
We flew away at top speed. The morning sun remained just below the horizon, but red and orange light was already seeping into the sky.
Every now and again I yelled, “Help us! Help us!”
I calculated that it would take the Pale Guard at least five minutes to break camp, saddle up, and come racing after us to discover why we were yelling for help.
I also calculated that the knight had by now retrieved his horse.
And I calculated that the odds of my desperate plans working were very dim.
Still, I told myself, my plan to escape the Murdano had worked. Maybe. Just maybe this would work as well.
Or maybe not. Because as the sun rose, I could make out the Pale Guard only half a league behind us, six tall warriors atop some of the fastest and strongest horses in Nedarra.
And I did not see the Knight of the Fire.
“There’s a river ahead!” Khara cried. My sense of smell confirmed that she was right.
“Do you see a bridge?” Renzo demanded.
Khara rose in her stirrups and stared ahead. “No.”
“Great,” Renzo muttered, using the tone I now recognized as “sarcasm”—a style of speech whereby a person could say something that was the opposite of the truth and yet, oddly, not be considered a liar.
“Sorry if this isn’t quite the rescue you were hoping for,” Khara said to Renzo. She also seemed to be employing “sarcasm.”
We moved closer to the river, which shone red in the morning sun. With dread settling in my heart, I realized it was wide and showed no sign of a bridge or ferry. Was it shallow enough to allow the horses to wade across?
I began to plan a story for the Pale Guard. I could tell them that we’d been set upon by a felivet. Or that terramants had suddenly appeared. They might believe that we had panicked.
Then again, they might not.
In any case, our odds did not look good. The horses of the Pale Guard were faster than ours. They were rapidly closing the distance.
Khara let out a curse, and I saw why. The knight was not behind us—he was ahead. Somehow he’d guessed our direction.
He sat astride his own horse between us and the river.
The Pale Guard behind, the Knight of the Fire ahead.
“Should we turn back?” I cried.
To my surprise, Khara was grinning at me. “You never cease to amaze me, Byx. No! No, we don’t turn back, you clever dairne, we go straight ahead!”
Khara had realized what I had not. The knight saw us, as did the Pale Guard. And despite its not working quite as I had hoped, they saw each other.
Neither the Murdano’s crack troops nor the Knight of the Fire was worried about us. Not at the moment, anyway.
“Help us!” I cried, twisting in my saddle to aim my cries at the Pale Guard. “He’s trying to kill us!”
I knew one thing: The Pale Guard had strict orders to keep us alive until we found more dairnes. And the Knight of the Fire looked as if he was going to kill us—a belief made more convincing by the fact that killing us was exactly what he was hoping to do.
“Now,” Khara instructed, “act like we just spotted the knight ahead of us. Veer right!”
I let loose a scream. We yanked our reins to the right and put our heads down, as if urging our steeds to greater effort.
The knight spurred his horse and galloped to cut us off.
The Pale Guard was hot on our heels.
And joy of joys, the knight and the guards were going to run into each other before either could reach us.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw the knight aim his lance at the guards. A jet of fire flew in an arc. The Pale Guard split into two, but the fire swerved in midair to chase one group.
Liquid fire hit the first guard, enveloping him in flame. His horse threw him off and ran in terror. The burning guard hit the ground.
But the Pale Guard wasn’t helpless. The two guards nearest the knight unlimbered crossbows and cranked them even as
they rode.
It was hard not to admire their skill.
Crossbow bolts flew. One missed. One struck the knight in his right thigh.
The two guards drew swords and went charging at the knight.
The three guards who were still trailing us reined in and headed back toward the battle. As they rode, a second of their number was wreathed in flames.
We were rapidly nearing the river. It was muddy and opaque. There was no way for us to guess its depth.
Khara slowed Vallino. “We can look for a bridge or a ferry, or we can hope it’s shallow.”
“There’s a ford half a league west,” Renzo said.
Khara shook her head. “This doesn’t look so deep.”
“Then go ahead and cross here,” Renzo said. “But be prepared to swim.”
“Who are you, even?” Khara demanded.
“I’m the person your friends rescued only to get me stuck between the Pale Guard and a Knight of the Fire. Who are you?”
“I’m the person who gave you a horse to ride,” Khara snapped. “And if you’re wrong about the ford, I’ll put my sword through your heart!”
“You could try to put that rusty old thing through me,” Renzo said with a sly grin. “But your clothing doesn’t fool me. You’re a girl.”
Khara nudged Vallino, who trotted up close to Renzo’s steed. “Let’s be clear on something, Renzo: I lead this group. And as for my rusty old sword . . .” She drew it from its sheath, glowing in all its glory. “My sword has tasted blood before, and it likes the flavor!”
“Nice,” Renzo conceded. “But the ford is still half a league west of us.”
Gambler, Tobble, and I all exchanged a look. Tobble and I were baffled by this pause for argument, but Gambler’s eyes were amused and knowing.
Behind us battle raged, and it did not look likely to end quickly.
“West,” Khara said grudgingly. “Follow . . . what’s-his-name.”
54.
The Abandoned Village
What’s-his-name was right about the ford, a place where the river widened out and ran swiftly but shallowly.
We crossed safely with only a few stumbles.
“I’m sorry about your village,” I said to Renzo when we paused to rest. Khara had taken me aside and asked that I test him for honesty.
“Not my village,” Renzo said. “I was just passing through. That crazy knight was busy burning the place down after no one there had any answers for him. I may have said something that annoyed him. Like ‘stop killing people.’”
My stomach lurched. “So they died because . . .”
“Yeah, because of you,” Renzo said. “And I came close to it myself. Thanks for the rescue, by the way, even if it was your fault I needed rescuing.”
“What is your, um, occupation, Renzo?” I asked.
“Me? I’m a thief.”
Khara had been pretending not to listen, but that made her turn around. “A thief! Just as I suspected.”
“I admitted it the first time we met,” he said cheerfully. “Did you think I was joking? I steal from those who have: the rich, the landed, the self-important.”
His words were true. For the most part.
“And I suppose you give it all to the poor,” Khara said, once again employing “sarcasm.”
“Pfff,” Renzo said dismissively. “Why would I do that? Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’ll toss a coin to a beggar from time to time. But I steal to feed myself.”
There was not much need for my dairne truth-telling skill. Renzo seemed entirely willing to tell the truth, even when it was less than flattering.
“My turn to ask a question,” Renzo said. “How exactly did a human girl pretending to be a boy, a felivet, a wobbyk, and a dairne manage to infuriate both the Pale Guard and a Knight of the Fire? Why are two of the most dangerous groups in humankind after you?”
I gave him a short version. But even the short version took some time, during which I decided that Renzo was a good listener. When he asked questions, they were on point. He was far more knowledgeable about the wider world than I had been.
When I was done with my recitation, he nodded. “So the Seer—and anyone else who wanted to lie to the Murdano—wants dairnes wiped out. But now it’s dawned on His Brilliance that a very small number of them, all slaves to him, could be useful. The Seer made a fatal mistake in prematurely declaring you extinct, a mistake she attempted to conceal by sending her Knight of the Fire after you.”
I nodded. “Yes. Basically.”
“And meanwhile the Murdano is still desperate to start his war with Dreyland. A war that would be easier for him to fight if he could lie, while instantly perceiving the lies of his opponents and doubters.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my saddle. The way he put it made it sound as if I could be used as a weapon of war.
“So,” Renzo went on breezily, “the Murdano has now consolidated power by eliminating Araktik. He’s already reduced the dairnes to—well, just you—and he’s been hemming in the felivets, reducing their hunting ranges, killing them off anytime he could come up with an excuse.”
“Why do you suppose that is?” Gambler asked, testing him.
“Because you’re enormous pains in the rear end, friend felivet,” Renzo said. “You don’t go along. You don’t join in. See, the natites, well, they’re practical folks. They sell ocean rights to anyone with cash: merchants, fishermen, pirates. They’re not picky, though the saying goes, ‘Natites never tell,’ so who knows what their true game is? They’ll probably let the Murdano launch a navy, assuming he has the wherewithal to bribe them. Which leaves the raptidons and the terramants, who may stand in his way. No one knows what the terramants want. As for raptidons?” Renzo laughed. “The birds just want to be left alone, but the Murdano will have to go after them, too.”
“But why, if, as you say, they just want to be left alone?” I asked.
“Because they have power,” Renzo said, as if it were obvious. “Imagine if the Murdano does invade Dreyland and the raptidons oppose him. An eagle can fly right over the mountains, land in an enemy camp, and tell them precisely where the Murdano’s troops are.”
“You’re very opinionated for a thief,” Khara said.
“Good-looking, too,” Renzo said, and Gambler stifled a laugh.
We pushed on, despite the weariness of the horses, until we reached a village. It was a gray, squalid, cheerless place: two dozen buildings, a blacksmith, a leather worker, a stable, a grocer, and an inn.
The inn, we discovered, was completely empty. The proprietor was nowhere to be seen. It looked like a recent departure. There was still ale in the casks and some food in the pantry.
Khara went to spy out the rest of the village, quickly discovering that the other shops were in much the same state. People had fled. The few who still remained in the village were old or feeble, the sort of people who might not be able to handle a difficult trek.
Khara returned with an old woman who said she used to work at the inn and would prepare a meal for us. What we wanted even more than food were answers.
“Where have all the people gone?” Khara asked the old woman, whose name was Melicent.
“Not long ago, the army took all the young men to be soldiers. Others were forced into labor, though none had committed crimes. Should he decide to invade Dreyland, the Murdano’s army will come through the town, and no one wishes to be here when that day comes.”
“I suppose they took all their valuables with them?” Renzo asked in a way that mocked his own motives.
“All they could carry,” Melicent confirmed.
“Hmmm,” Renzo said. “Well, I’ll just, um, check to see if that’s true.” He left, carrying an empty sack.
“Thief,” Khara said, pronouncing the word as if it tasted bad.
“Perhaps I should follow young Renzo,” Gambler said, eyeing Khara. “We wouldn’t want any harm to come to him.”
“I don’t care what happens to a thief,” Khar
a said.
“No, of course not,” Gambler said. But just the same the felivet left to keep a discreet eye on the boy.
“I wonder what happened to the knight and the Pale Guard,” Tobble asked. “What do you think, Khara?”
“With luck, they killed each other,” she said. “Realistically, we should post a lookout and sleep in shifts. Beyond that, I’m not sure there’s much more we can do. The knight may have survived. Or some members of the Pale Guard. Or . . .”
She didn’t finish her thought, but I knew what she meant. The Murdano had ordered Luca taken away but had not ordered his death. Surely Luca would set some of the Corpli family troops after us, if he was able.
“I’m not sleepy,” Tobble said, suppressing a yawn. “I’ll go first.”
“So?” Khara asked when Tobble left for lookout duty at the top of a rise. “Is Renzo being truthful?”
“To a fault,” I said. “He may be a thief, but so far he’s an honest one. And he did take us to the ford.”
Khara grunted, unimpressed. “In the morning we’ll move on, and he can go where he likes.”
“And if he wants to stick with us?”
“Why would he wish to do that?” Khara asked. “We’re on a possibly doomed mission to find whatever is left of your species. And after that? We don’t even have a plan.”
But Renzo returned in the night, his bag now bulging. He dumped out its contents on a table in the inn’s pub, and I gasped to see objects of value: a silver cup, a scattering of gold adornments, and more mundane items like clothing, wooden bowls, and bits of pottery.
“Who would leave silver behind?” I asked, examining the cup.
“People who expected to return,” Renzo said. “These are things they hid. Some of the hiding places were quite imaginative.”
“Then how did you find them so quickly?”
Renzo winked at me but spoke to Khara. “Shall I show you?”
I nodded, and Khara pretended not to have heard him.
Renzo closed his eyes and stood very still, hands by his side, expression blank, and recited: