“What?” I whisper.
“I think we should bring him along.”
“Why would we do that? We’re about to be hunted!”
“Because he’s a leading expert on magic, remember? And we need to get rid of a magic sword! This is perfect. You can pick his brain on the road.”
Oh …
“How am I supposed to pick his brain without revealing just how powerful our cargo is?”
“You’re smart; you’ll figure something out.”
I hate that she’s right. I don’t want another stranger with us.
“We’ll be putting him in danger,” I say. “We can’t do that. What if he’s caught with us?”
“If I could just interject.” Petrik raises his voice to be heard. “There are other ways I can be of use! I may not look it, but I’m strong. I carried all these books across two regions just to find you. I can help with any chores. I know how to build fires and cook. I can—”
“You can cook?” Temra and I ask simultaneously.
“Yes, one of my many duties at the Great Library was being in a cooking rotation with other novices.”
Temra and I share a glance.
Temra hands me Reya’s lead. “I’ve got this.” She returns to Petrik. “You may come with us, but we have some conditions.”
“Name them,” he says.
“You don’t ask questions about where we’re going or what we’re doing. And you need to know that dangerous people are after us. It might not be safe for you if we’re caught.”
Petrik’s hands drop from his shoulder straps as he deliberates. “How dangerous?”
“Very.”
He only thinks about it a moment longer. “Well, then, I guess I just can’t stick around too long.”
“Really?” I blurt. “You really still want to come?”
“If I’m being totally honest, it sounds very exciting!”
He’s mad, is what I want to say to Temra, but I can’t tell her that now without Petrik overhearing.
“Then we can’t delay any longer,” Temra says. “You have to keep up.”
And we resume running.
* * *
Even when the sun rises, we don’t dare make camp. We’re all tired, especially Reya, who’s carrying all the supplies as well as the mercenary’s bulk. We stop at a nearby stream to let her drink and graze a little but not for long. Temra picks the long grasses along the journey and feeds them to her as we walk.
Eventually, we pass by another set of travelers, a husband and wife sitting at the front of a covered cart, likely carrying goods for trade up to our city. The wife bears a very impressive crossbow for the dangers of the road. She eyes the drunken Kellyn with curiosity.
“Had too much to drink, this one,” Temra tells them.
They nod in understanding before carrying on.
“I think we should get off the road,” Temra says when they’re out of earshot. “Ky—Our pursuers won’t know which way we’ve gone. There are three roads leading out of the city, but if they question new arrivals to town, they’ll be able to point out having seen us. How hard will it be to remember a pair of sisters?”
“Just a moment,” Petrik says.
He runs back down toward the couple. They halt their cart and share a few words with Petrik. He hands something to them, and then they continue on.
“What was that?” Temra asks. “Now they’re going to remember us for sure!”
“I thought I’d ask if they’d like some bread,” he says.
“Bread?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes, I informed them that my wife and her cousin made too much for our journey, and we’d love to share.”
“Oh,” I say, and Temra and I both look toward the ground awkwardly. Petrik was making himself more memorable. Hiding Temra and me. Even though he has no clue what’s going on.
“Give me some credit. I’m not an idiot.” Petrik steps forward, making a path through the trees and ferns at the side of the road so we can continue traveling more discreetly. We keep the road barely out of eyesight, checking occasionally to ensure we’re still on track.
When we finally stop for an early lunch, everyone turns toward the mercenary. He’s still out cold. Aside from the rise and fall of his shoulders, you’d think he was dead.
“We’ve got to cut him down,” Temra says. “Reya needs a break for as long as we can give her.”
We start with the saddlebags and weapons. Only when we can’t avoid it any longer do we cut the ropes holding the large man in place.
Petrik helps us to lift the mercenary off the horse’s back, but we only manage to get him halfway to the ground before he topples in our lopsided grip and falls the rest of the way.
The jolt from striking the hard soil wakes him right up.
“What—” Kellyn sputters. He tries to stand and reach for his longsword, which isn’t on his back anymore. We attached it to Reya with the rest of the weapons so as to keep it from sliding out of its sheath from the angle Kellyn was perched on the saddle.
The motion, which was off-balance to begin with in his state, results in him crashing to the ground once again.
He is not happy. Sick from too much mead, cramped from the way he slept on a horse all night, the bright sun—none of this is likely to put him in a good mood.
Kellyn rises again, this time more slowly. He shades his eyes and takes in the three of us.
“Who are you?”
I look to Temra in a panic. He doesn’t remember us.
“Your employers,” Temra says, not missing a beat. “So far, we’re not pleased with your performance.”
Kellyn squints, as though that will help him see better. “I took a job?”
Temra glances at Petrik only briefly before saying, “Safe passage to Thersa for three.” She can’t very well not tell our escort where we’re going. And it would be impossible to tell Kellyn without telling Petrik. So I guess everyone is in on our final destination.
The mercenary moves his free hand to his temple, as if willing his brain to remember last night. Kellyn asks, “How much did I agree to?”
“Not an amount. A Zivan blade. Ziva will make you a magicked longsword when we reach Thersa safely.”
His alarmingly alert eyes shift to me, and I focus on my boots.
“I know you. You were in the smithy shop. You’re Ziva?”
My eyes snap up. “What is that supposed to mean?” Does he find something wrong or distasteful about me? And why do I care?
“You didn’t say anything last time,” he says.
“I was busy.”
“You two know each other?” Temra asks.
“I came by the shop to commission a blade,” Kellyn says. “She told me to come back in three weeks. Wait, that’s not until next week. Did you already know you would be leaving then? Were you blowing me off?”
My fingers are practically tangled in knots, and I can’t find anything safe to look at. I’m sure to find judgy eyes from all three of my companions.
“The important thing,” Temra says, drawing the mercenary’s attention, “is that you’re getting your weapon. Let’s not worry over what happened before.”
I can feel his eyes return to me as he asks, “Why do I feel as though I slept on a log?” He cricks his neck.
“You slept on the horse,” Petrik says unhelpfully.
“You passed out on us,” I add. “We didn’t have many options.”
“How far away from Lirasu are we?” Kellyn wants to know.
I fear he means to back out and leave us on our own, but we can’t lie to him. He’d figure it out eventually when we reach our destination.
“An evening’s hard ride,” Temra says.
“Left in a hurry, did we?”
“Yes, we need to reach Thersa with haste.”
“And we’ll add in a bonus once we get there,” I say. Goddesses, but I hate that we have to rely on so many strangers. Still, a little monetary incentive can’t hurt if Kellyn’s on the fence about this.
There’s a nerve-racking silence as we wait to see what the mercenary will do.
“I’m a man of my word,” he says at last. “If I agreed to take you to Thersa, then that’s what I’ll do.”
He treads off a ways.
“Where are you going?” Petrik asks him.
“To take a piss. Is that all right with my employers?”
No one says anything, and Kellyn disappears into the thickness of the trees.