Ashes Page 6

  She swallowed painfully. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, swollen and dry from lack of use. Her skull ached, throbbing in time with her left cheekbone as she pressed a probing finger against the area. Nothing broken, just tender.

  Despite these discomforts, Phoenix found that she was able to move with relative ease. Her limbs no longer felt weighed down.

  “We should stop soon,” a woman’s voice said from somewhere up ahead. Phoenix recognized it but was unable to place it. “It’s almost dark, and I don’t enjoy the thought of travelling if I can’t see where I’m going.”

  “I agree,” a second muffled voice replied. “We’ll make camp soon. Another day or so and we should be there. Hopefully we’re not too late.”

  “We would know if we were,” the woman reminded him. “You know that. The Land would have reacted if we were too late.”

  “Yes, I know.” The muffled voice grunted, as if moving something heavy. “I just worry. I feel like we’re approaching the point of no return.”

  “You doubt my skills.” The woman’s tone was ambiguous, and Phoenix couldn’t tell if she was asking a question or making a statement.

  The response was a warm chuckle. “Never.”

  Phoenix turned her head carefully. She was lying on a pile of hay that spread across a wooden surface. There was a constant vibration in her bones that was punctuated intermittently by bumps and dips that mirrored those of a road. She could only assume that she was in the back of a moving wagon.

  Phoenix tried to prop herself up to get her bearings, but she found that she was too dizzy to do so. She could feel the wagon begin to slow as it changed direction. The sharp jolts were replaced by gentle bumps as they left the road and veered into the grass.

  They came to a halt. There were a few moments of silence, then a creaking noise as someone dismounted from the front of the wagon. Panicked, she sat up as quickly as possible.

  The slight movement sent pains shooting through her head. She waited for them to subside, then used the palms of her hands to push herself along the wooden planks to freedom.

  She had to find Muler. She had to get out of here.

  Sliding to the lip, she stretched her legs until her toes touched solid ground. Giving herself a final shove, she landed on the balls of her feet and spun quickly to look behind her.

  The movement caused her to lose her footing in the slick mud. She narrowly avoided hitting her head, but managed to crack her elbow on the wagon’s edge.

  “Toads!” Phoenix hissed, the oath slipping past her lips. She wrapped a hand around the throbbing area to lessen the pain.

  “Are you all right?” The familiar soft voice was sprinkled with both amusement and concern. Phoenix looked up to see a pale, willowy woman peering down at her. Her hair, which glowed silver in the dimming light, was bound in a long braid that reached her waist. Warm brown eyes surveyed Phoenix. It was hard to tell in the dusky light, but Phoenix guessed the woman had about forty years to her age.

  Phoenix resisted the urge to back away from the strange woman. “I know you. ” When the woman raised her eyebrows Phoenix lifted her chin, hoping that the motion hid the tremble in her voice. “You’re the one who was talkin’ in m’ head.”

  Surprise flashed across her features, easing the foolishness that Phoenix felt from her accusation.

  “So you Heard that, did you?”

  Phoenix felt the familiar pull in her gut as Malcourt came into view, his hands clasped behind his back as he assessed her. “Interesting.”

  Relief rushed through Phoenix’s body. She didn’t know why, but the sight of Malcourt standing there eased the apprehension she felt at the idea of travelling with two complete strangers.

  “Behave, Tolen,” the woman murmured.

  Phoenix fixed the man with a glare. Emboldened by her outrage she drew herself up to her full height. “Who are you?”

  He looked impressed at her bravado - a reaction that annoyed her - and bowed with a flourish. “Tolen Malcourt, at your service, and this is Sylvia Vanrose,” he gestured to the woman, “Masterhealer of Angoria, and the unfortunate holder of my moral compass.”

  Sylvia made a noise in her throat that Phoenix assumed was in protest, but she didn’t have time to assess it as she quickly looked around. “Where’s th’ other man?”

  She looked confused, but Malcourt looked curiously delighted. “Gone,” he answered smoothly.

  She shot Malcourt a look before changing the subject. “You collapsed,” she told Phoenix seriously. “The stableboy sent for Tolen when he found you. I was able to get your fever under control, but your body was exhausted. You needed to sleep yourself out. We couldn’t leave you there alone, so we took you with us since we were unable to find your Aunt.”

  “Yes,” Malcourt agreed, “your mysterious Aunt. Strangely no one in Pine’s Haven had heard of your Aunt before…”

  Phoenix blushed despite herself. The lie had caught up with her, causing embarrassment to settle in her stomach like a stone. She had put herself in a dangerous situation without realizing it.

  “You’re distressing her, Tolen,” Sylvia chided him. “Wait for her to feel better before you start poking around inside her head.”

  Rummaging next to the opening, Sylvia grabbed a waterskin hidden in the hay. She held it out to Phoenix. “You were feverish for a long time. I imagine you’re quite thirsty. You’re welcome to join us. We have more than enough food, but if you want to leave we understand. We did drag you along without any warning.”

  Malcourt’s raised eyebrows disappeared underneath his hair. Sylvia gave him a look, one that he wisely chose not to dispute, and nodded. “It’s up to you,” he called over his shoulder, heading towards the front of the wagon.

  Phoenix took the offered waterskin with a grateful word of thanks and, nearly spilling it down herself in her haste to open it, had swallowed several mouthfuls before she thought about it.

  The water was the most amazing thing she had ever tasted. It was marvellous on her dry tongue, and it tasted as fresh as if she were drinking directly from a stream. Phoenix couldn’t swallow it fast enough.

  “Join us when you’re ready,” Sylvia chuckled, walking towards the front of the wagon. “And don’t forget to breathe...”

  There was a soft yip, and a furry shape immediately tackled Phoenix with a torrent of wet kisses.

  “Pup!” Phoenix laughed and batted the pup away until she calmed down. With a whine of protest, the pup sat down in front of Phoenix and pawed at her for attention. “Yer ‘ere!” Phoenix reached out with a smile and ruffled the pup’s ears. The puppy wagged her tail and rolled over to show Phoenix her belly. “Glad t’ see you’re alrigh’.” Phoenix talked softly as she scratched her. The pup’s tail thumped in response to Phoenix’s voice, but her eyes remained blissfully closed as Phoenix scratched her.

  The horses nickered as they were unhitched from the wagon yolk.

  Phoenix frowned, contemplating. She didn’t relish the idea of traveling alone in the dark, and she had already shared a fire with Malcourt before... Surely he or Sylvia would know what the next town ahead of them was. Pine’s Haven didn’t seem particularly welcoming. She didn’t even know if she could get back into the town without Malcourt’s bribe.

  Phoenix took several steps before deciding that she was in no danger of falling over. She squared her shoulders, then walked around to the front of the wagon.

  Sylvia had unhitched the horses and tethered them to graze. Malcourt was off in the distance, using a stick to draw in the ground as he walked around the campsite. Phoenix watched him in confusion for a moment before her attention slid to the donkey tied to the side of the wagon.

  “Hi, boy,” Phoenix greeted him softly. She blinked back the tears of relief that had gathered in her eyes. Muler nuzzled her in greeting and Phoenix rubbed his nose affectionately in return. She pressed her forehead against his neck and stood there silently for a moment, breathing in his familiar smell.

  “Dizzy
?” Sylvia asked, coming to stand next to her.

  Phoenix shook her head with a smile. “Wha’s he doin’?” Phoenix asked, getting herself under control. She nodded to Malcourt who was still several wagon-lengths away.

  “It’s a protection circle,” Sylvia replied, grabbing a bag out of the wagon seat. “It keeps harm away from travelers, making them hard to find. It allows them to sleep easier at night.”

  Sylvia pulled several treefruit out of the bag, offering them to Muler and the two horses. Phoenix groaned inwardly when she recognized the new horse as the dappled mare she’d pointed out to Malcourt at the inn.

  “How do a circle in th’ dirt protect people?” she asked, trying to hide the embarrassment of her discovery.

  “Tolen has many talents,” Sylvia replied vaguely. The woman pulled the bag for a few feet before dropping it on the ground. Phoenix could see an old fire pit next to it, a singed circle of rock left from previous travelers.

  Phoenix trailed behind the woman, feeling lost. She rubbed her thumb against the bumps of the scars on her fingers, contemplating, then blurted: “Can we camp wit’ you? Jus’ until morning?” Phoenix might not have asked just for herself, but Muler had been traveling non-stop for several days now, and she felt a pang of guilt when she thought about him. He deserved a rest if nothing else.

  Sylvia gave her a smile. “Of course. We’d appreciate your company… All of your company.”

  Feeling overwhelmed, Phoenix could only nod.

  Warm brown eyes met hers. Sylvia assessed her for a moment before inclining her head. “Are you well enough to gather wood for a fire?”

  Phoenix quickly nodded again.

  “Take your time,” Sylvia called as Phoenix walked to Muler. “No need to rush on the firewood.”

  Removing Muler’s saddle, Phoenix gave him a brisk rubdown with his back cloth. She gave his hooves and mouth a quick inspection, then tethered him with Powder and the other horse.

  “You get a good night’s rest,” she told him, carefully combing his mane with her fingertips, “an’ I’ll find you a nice barn tomorrow.”

  Muler lipped her sleeve in acknowledgement before lowering his head to graze.

  Phoenix, relieved to be doing something useful, walked around and began picking up sticks that were scattered along the ground. Several times she came across the marks that Malcourt had made around camp, her toes nearly brushing against the wide circle, causing her to change directions so that she would not smudge the strange symbols.

  The pup followed at her heels, finding delight in grabbing a stick and running away with it in her mouth - until she found a better one and dropped her current one to run around with her new one. Phoenix couldn’t help but smile while watching her.

  “You still need a name,” Phoenix murmured to the pup as she trotted to the firesite, one side of the stick she carried dragging along the ground next to her.

  “Pip was staying behind to keep an eye on her,” Malcourt’s low voice reached Phoenix’s ears. “I was on my way to speak to my contact when she collapsed. He would have kept her safe until I returned. I was coming back.”

  Feeling guilty for eavesdropping, Phoenix made a show of noisily dropping some of the sticks. The conversation paused.

  “Ho,” Malcourt greeted her. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes. Thanks. Jus’ a bit lightheaded,” she said as Malcourt took the wood from her.

  “No sense in overdoing it, then,” Sylvia declared, directing Phoenix to sit on a fallen log. “We don’t need you getting sick on us again. After all,” she took the sticks one by one from Phoenix and propped them up in a circle, “someone didn’t even have the good sense to realize that you were exhausted and sick. Just because he wasn’t out in the rain, it never occurred to him that others might catch their death of cold...” She shot Malcourt a look and he sighed dramatically.

  “Please... It ain’t his fault.” Phoenix was surprised at her need to defend Malcourt.

  “Now, now, Sylvia. You’re distressing her,” Malcourt interjected smoothly, echoing the woman’s words from earlier. “Don’t you realize she’s had a rough day?” He winked at Phoenix as Sylvia began to sputter. “Now, then. Why don’t you heat up this delicious stew that you’ve made? I’m sure we’re all hungry. Sylvia makes the best stew. You simply must try it.”

  Sylvia opened her mouth in outrage, then gave a helpless laugh and waved her arms. “All right! All right. You shoo and set up the camp; leave me in peace to cook.”

  Malcourt gave a surprisingly boyish salute and went to the wagon to continue unpacking.

  “Not you,” Sylvia laid a hand on her leg as she started to rise, and Phoenix jumped at the light contact. “You stay here and rest. Tolen’s big and ugly enough to manage by himself.”

  Phoenix stared at Sylvia incredulously, but the woman took no notice. Phoenix felt the need to protest about sitting and doing nothing while there was work to be done, but she also felt so strangely tired that she remained sitting next to the woman. The pup dropped her stick and put her head in Phoenix’s lap. Phoenix scratched her ears idly. “Her limp is gone,” Phoenix remarked, running a hand over the pup’s front paw.

  “Just some minor tissue damage.” Syliva expertly arranged the wood in the fire pit. “It was an easy fix, much like your fever.”

  Phoenix blinked in surprise at the Healer’s abilities.

  It wasn’t long before a small fire bloomed and crackled along the offered sticks. “What are you going to call her?” Sylvia asked after a while, sitting back on the log with Phoenix.

  Phoenix gave a one-sided shrug. “I’m not sure I’ve known ‘er long enough t’ choose...” her voice trailed off as she traced the circular patterns of tan and black in the dog’s fur. The pup wagged her tail happily. Unbidden, a name formed in her mind. “But I’m thinkin’ ‘bout callin’ her ‘Kit’.”

  “That’s a beautiful name.” Sylvia smiled and pulled a small pot from her bag. The pup barked her agreement and Sylvia laughed softly. “I think she likes it.”

  Phoenix watched the woman quietly. She had grown up with a Healer, learning how to make different poultices, how to set different bones and administer stitches. She had never had an interest in it before - usually assisting Marla under protestation - but perhaps that could be something she could do. She could find out where the woman trained and they might have a space for her.

  The silence stretched as Sylvia bustled with her bag, pulling out a large metal hook and standing it over the fire. Phoenix was impressed by their forethought when it came to traveling, and also with their ability to pack. She would have sworn that the rack was far too large for the carrier.

  “Is there someone you need to send a message to,” Sylvia asked softly, eyes on the fire as she stoked it.

  Phoenix debated telling another lie, somehow explaining the absence of her Aunt, or coming up with another story about herself. Who she was meeting; where she was travelling. Instead, she shook her head. “It can wait,” she said simply.

  There was a thunk, and the two looked up to see Malcourt wrestling with the blankets and supplies in the wagon. With a chuckle, Sylvia set the pot on the fire and filled it from a waterskin. Herbed broth poured into the heated pot with a sizzle of protest. Taking out some taproots, she began to peel the vegetables with her belt knife. “You’re lucky you found Malcourt when you did. Stormhounds are near impossible to escape.”

  Phoenix nodded, remembering that Malcourt said the same thing earlier. After experiencing the terror when she and Muler were fighting to outrun them, she believed it. “What is a Stormhound, exactly?”

  “The product of a powerful spell; used only for the darkest purposes.” Sylvia dropped the vegetable pieces into the pot. “Blood bargaining. They’re dogs, yet savage and efficient as a pack of wolves. They can track over long distances. They travel with the storm and use it to catch their prey, even adjusting their surroundings with it when necessary. Nothing can stop them. They can only be controlled b
y their Maker.” She opened a pouch at her belt and sprinkled some spices into the soup.

  Phoenix blinked in surprise to hear such superstitions coming from the woman, but she had to admit - they definitely hadn’t been normal wolves, and the fallen tree that had blocked her path had mysteriously disappeared the next morning. “So... they’re like huntin’ dogs, then? ‘Cept they hunt across th’ whole of Angoria?” When Sylvia nodded, Phoenix shuddered. Fear twisted in her belly, and the growing darkness around them seemed to press tighter against her. “What’s t’ stop them from comin’ back?”

  “They won’t.” Malcourt had returned with the blankets. “They’ve already passed through this area. They’ll travel the whole Land over again before they come back this way – following the night until they return to their maker. Don’t worry. We’re safe tonight.” He sat down with a soft groan. “Now, then. Is that stew ready, Sylvia? It’s been a long day for all of us. I’m sure we could all use something hot to eat.” From his carrier he pulled several tin cups and handed them around.

  The stew was warm and flavorful. Phoenix was surprised to find that she was starving, and she repeatedly burned her mouth trying to eat before her food had cooled enough. She sat contentedly while the adults made idle talk between them.

  It became quiet for a time. The three sat without talking, enjoying the meal and the serenity of the eve around them. One by one, the stars began to appear in the sky. Kit sat by Phoenix and rested her chin on her leg. She watched Phoenix eat and gave a soft whine. Phoenix shovelled a few more spoonfuls into her mouth, then set the remaining stew down for the pup.

  “So,” Malcourt began, watching her, “Sylvia and I must be off at first light. We’re in a bit of a hurry, I’m afraid. I trust you have everything you need to get to wherever you’re going?”

  Sylvia stared at him.

  Phoenix felt a small twinge of panic at the thought of being alone, but she nodded in affirmation.