He was accustomed to resting on hard stone of course, and to going without sleep. Both had been part of his training. He’d needed to be tough, as tough as a man could be. But even with that training, he was tired. He’d forced himself to remain awake much of the night, waiting to see if Isa had some hidden method of escaping the ropes.
Isa. He turned with a start, half expecting to find the woman gone. She still lay on the ground where he’d put her.
Siris sat up, rubbing his chin. Her blanket had pulled free in the night, but with her hands bound behind her back and tied to her ankles, she obviously hadn’t been able to get it back on. He felt a stab of guilt, but remembering the crossbow aimed at his throat banished the emotion. She had decided to stay; she had suggested the bindings. He wouldn’t feel bad for doing the job well.
He walked over and untied her. She started awake, then watched him silently with reddened eyes. She’d slept as poorly as he had.
He wound the rope, then did his morning sword practices, going through the Aegis Forms one at a time in slow motion, breathing in and out. He kept an eye on Isa, who watched him with a curious expression. For some reason, he found her observation unnerving, and he made more mistakes in the forms than he had in a long while.
Finished, he wiped his brow and stowed the Infinity Blade, and then—to be doing something—he started packing the horse. The surly brute gave him a glare that seemed to indicate it knew what Siris had done. The thing even tried to bite him a few times.
Cross ‘riding a horse’ off my list of things to do, he told himself. These beasts are horrid.
“You’re packing him too heavily,” Isa said, walking up behind. “He can’t carry all of that and you too.”
“He won’t be carrying me,” Siris said, finishing tying on his bundle of armor. Oddly, the saddle suddenly seemed loose.
Isa snorted and walked over, gently pushing him aside and redoing the saddle. “So we’re both walking?”
“I sure as heaven am not getting up on that beast,” Siris said, shaking his hand where the horse had nicked him. Weren’t horses supposed to be placid grass-eaters? He’d met cave bears with better temperaments.
Packing done, Isa walked back to the camp and spared a glance for the discarded crossbow.
“How easy would that be to fix?” Siris asked.
“Tough,” she said. “We’d need a specialist.”
It seemed a waste to leave the weapon. Siris picked it up and managed to discharge the bolt—it had sat in place all night—by pressing his knife against the catch. Then he fetched the trigger mechanism and stowed both on the horse.
As he was working, he heard thunder. He frowned up at the clear sky.
“Back!” Isa hissed, grabbing his arm. He barely kept from drawing the sword on her, and instead allowed her to tow him and the horse to the side of the hill. She crouched down, watching the road.
A group of mounted knights in black stormed down the roadway, coming as if from the God King’s palace. Siris’s breath caught in his throat. He had little doubt they were hunting him.
He and Isa crouched beside the hill for a long time, the thunder of the horses’ hooves growing softer in the distance. Siris swallowed.
“They’re heading north,” Isa said.
In the direction I told the daerils I’d be going, he thought. Well, his false trail was working. That was something. Hopefully, they would have asked the peasants about him, and found that he was indeed traveling this way. Drawing them away from his home was vital.
He should have been watching for pursuit; he hadn’t realized they’d come after him so quickly. He’d intended to travel on the road for a while, to give confirmation to those pursuing him that this was the way he’d gone. Then he’d planned to cut out a different direction. He’d probably stayed on the road too long; he hadn’t ever done anything like this before.
“Is there a way to get to this other Deathless by going cross-country?” he asked.
“Saydhi? Yes, there is. In fact, that’s probably a very good idea.”
“Let’s move, then,” he said, cautiously rising.
“I assume you want me walking in front?”
Siris nodded. “And you lead the monster.”
She obeyed, striking out, horse in tow. Leaving the roadway made the path more difficult. However, the opportunity to put most of the gear on her animal meant that—rougher though the terrain was—he had a much easier time of it. He actually found himself enjoying the walk, particularly as the weather took a pleasantly cool turn.
Over the next few days, they slowly climbed in elevation, and the furrowed landscape of rocks and cliffs gave way to more greenery. Isa knew a little-used pass through the heights, and they began passing thickets of thin, reedlike growths that climbed high into the air.
It was bamboo, Siris realized. He’d seen wares crafted from it come through Drem’s Maw, but had never seen the plants alive. It seemed incredible to him that a week or two of walking could change the vegetation so soundly—Isa tried to explain something about a “rain shadow” with the mountains, whatever that meant.
He kept close watch on her, binding her tightly every night. She submitted wordlessly, though her wrists got rubbed raw, and each morning when she rose her steps were stiff with soreness and cramps caused by the awkward sleeping. When he could, he tied her to a tree instead. That seemed to be slightly more comfortable.
They didn’t speak much. Not nearly as much as they had on that first day, when he’d still nurtured a glimmer of trust. Siris tried to spend the time thinking about what to do. Unfortunately, he kept thinking of things he wanted to add to his list. That distracted him.
And so, he decided to try some of them. Isa watched him, baffled one night, as he constructed a rope swing and hung it from a branch, then swung on it.
“That’s a children’s activity,” she said.
“Oh?” he said. “Are they the only ones allowed to have fun?”
His reply seemed to disturb her greatly. That evening, he took down the swing and used the ropes to bind her. Then, in his book, he wrote down rope swings as one of the things he definitely enjoyed.
They continued their hike. During the traveling, Isa proved her competence on more than one occasion. She always found fresh water for the camp, even when he would have thought it impossible. He tried to learn how she did it, and found himself very satisfied as he learned to spot good campsites.
A few times, she ranged on ahead, then returned to lead them a different direction. Apparently, these highland hills and valleys were populated with a large number of free daerils that roved in bands. He never caught sight of them, though he and Isa did cross a few old camps and the remnants of the occasional caravan, skeletons peeking through the charred, burned-out remains.
As they left one such location, he found himself wondering about her motives. Was all of this—the care she took with the camps, the show of protecting him from roving daerils—just an act? Like her laughter had been on that first day, her wry friendliness? Could guiding him be a long-term attempt to get him to let his guard down?
Would he go to sleep one night, then never awake, killed by a hidden dagger?
Each night, he tied the bonds tightly, hating himself as he did so. Better to hate himself than to die because of another betrayal.
SIRIS FOLLOWED ISA and the horse up the forested hillside. He was surprised the horse could make it up the steep incline; the beast seemed to have less trouble with it than he did. He had to be wary not to get too close, lest the animal drop a gift down at him. He was increasingly certain that it waited until Siris was close to do its business.
The air was hot and muggy, and the sun was veiled in a sheath of gray clouds. They were coming down out of the hills, leaving the pass behind them. If anything, the land here was even more lush than before. Enormous forests of bamboo spread like green blankets over the rolling hills. The tall, slender plants were almost like the lawn of some gigantic creature—which made Siris and Isa the insects that prowled among the blades of grass.
The Infinity Blade hung in its sheath on his back, where he’d moved it after getting it caught repeatedly in the underbrush. He no longer wore the cloak; they hadn’t passed a living soul in days.
He practically crawled the last steep distance up to the hilltop, pulling on grass slick with dew. The ground here smelled alive. If the people of Drem’s Maw knew that just across those mountains, they’d find this paradise of growth and life . . .
They wouldn’t know. They would live their lives at work, slaving as they hung from the roof of their cavern and cut the fast-growing stalactites, delivering the minerals to the God King as tribute. Siris reached the top of the hill and stood up tall, taking a deep breath of the misty air. If he could get the weapon to the Worker of Secrets, would that start something that truly brought freedom to his people?
It was an oddly daunting thought. Though the God King still lived, Siris had defeated him in a fair duel. He didn’t believe that he’d won by accident, or that the God King had allowed it. He had enough dueling experience to know when someone gave their all.
That victory, however small, left him wondering. Could they all be defeated? Could his people actually be freed? He reached over his shoulder, touching the hilt of the Infinity Blade.
Isa stood atop the hill, looking up to the right, toward one of the lower peaks in the mountain range. She seemed thoughtful.
“What?” he asked.
“The rebirthing chamber I told you about,” she said, sounding distracted. “It’s up there. On the slopes of that peak. I stumbled upon it by accident. I was lost . . .”
“I thought you couldn’t get lost,” he said, smiling.
She didn’t hear the humor in his voice. “I can’t now. But I still could, back then.” She shook her head, then continued on her way down the slope.
Siris joined her, walking beside her, rather than in his customary place behind. She eyed him at the irregularity, but he was tired of watching that animal’s backend. The thing was demonspawn for certain.
“How much farther?” he asked.
“A little over a day,” she said. “Then we’ll have to decide if you try to sneak in or challenge the guardians.”
“Sneak?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Have you heard me in my armor?”
She nodded. “I just . . .”
“What?”
“It’s so odd, the way you people do things. Stepping right up, announcing you want to fight, going into it.”
“It’s the path of honor and civilization.”
“I wonder if that’s one of the ways the Deathless keep you in line,” Isa said. She was so subdued. Professional, quiet—not cold, but giving up no more than she had to. He missed the way she’d been on that first day.
“Keep us in line?”
“Sure. They convince everyone that it’s ‘honorable’ to fight one on one, formally. That way, when we rise up, we do it with loud declarations and challenges. It gives them more time to prepare.”