Bones of the Empire Read online

  Following the beam of light when Feanne stepped out of the way, Estin saw it pointed toward the mountains, which were easily two weeks of walking away. Even on horseback, it would take them nearly a week. Worse still, the destination could be in or past those mountains.

  “We should’ve gotten horses,” Estin said dryly. Feanne nodded in agreement. “At least we’re in no bigger hurry than usual.”

  Turess lifted his other hand, flicking his robe’s cuff back so his silver bracelet was visible. He stared at it intently for a moment, a frown slowly creeping across his features. “Have until next full moon, give or take. Glowing cloud will be strong soon and begin tearing through the wall between worlds. When it does, nothing survives. Must act before moon or we are too weak to stop it.”

  Estin and Feanne exchanged glances, and she spoke up, sounding close to panic. “How could you know that?”

  “Magic on wedding band,” he replied, holding up the bracelet, though Estin could see nothing special about it. “Was meant to help me know when to move people before magic break into Eldvar. Now it tell me when walls are too thin and we cannot recover. May have few more days than thought, but no more than that.”

  “Then how do we find this person, and can they really help us with so little time?” Estin demanded, though Turess did not even look his way.

  Squinting into the distance, Turess slid the coin’s chain over his head and tucked it away. “We will find horse. Vixen bring horse. We make faster travel.”

  Feanne stepped up to Turess, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him until he backed away. “I barely have more than the clothes on my back, human. There is no horse hidden in my pack.”

  “No, no,” Turess corrected, his face crinkling as he struggled for words. “I use wrong word. What is word for what you did with wolves when I woke from dead?”

  “Summon? Call?” she tried, staring at him as though he was insane. “I howled for help. Something answered. My magic allows that to happen from time to time. Usually I simply look foolish, howling at the sky. Foxes aren’t exactly known for howling. Anything larger than a rabbit thinks our howl is an invitation.”

  “Make it happen now,” Turess said. “You cry out for help with fear, you got angry wolves. Call out nice and get us horse. Very simple. I think is simple. You think is simple?”

  Feanne looked to be ready to throttle Turess. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she said, “It does not work that way. I call out, and whatever hears me decides if it will come. A horse is not likely to want to answer a fox’s cries. I would say our odds of a horse are about as good as a rabbit or chicken choosing to come to my side.”

  “Wolves eat foxes,” Turess countered, tapping his foot impatiently on the rock-strewn ground. “Wolves helped. You misunderstand gift. Horse not care about red fur. Do not know horse can even see color. I not ask them and not recommend others try. You confuse simple request.”

  Clenching her hands tightly, Feanne turned to Estin. “I will try what he’s asking, but be ready to fight or run, depending on what comes. I believe the animals that arrive assume I am in danger. They may try to kill him or all of us.”

  Estin drew his swords and nodded. He had never seen Feanne call anything that wanted to hurt him, but the few times she had done it in the past, the animals had no trouble identifying who her enemies were. This time, if they assumed she was in danger, it meant attacking Estin or Turess.

  Raising her nose to point at the sky, Feanne took a long deep breath and spread her arms to her sides. Once she could take in no more air, she let out a throaty cry that echoed off the walls of Jnodin. Estin had heard that cry only a few times since he had met Feanne, and it normally meant trouble. The first time he had lay dying at her feet, with hunting dogs chasing them down. It always sent shivers down his spine, making him think of the howls of wolves near their camp back in the mountains. The distinctly different tone of the call that Feanne used was unmistakably hers alone.

  The cry fading away, Feanne lowered her head and took several slow breaths. She searched the horizon for anything, but soon looked back at Estin and shrugged. “We will walk,” she announced, moving west again with Estin trudging along behind her and Turess behind him.

  Turess muttered under his breath as he looked around for horses Estin had to assume would never come. Had Turess been more fluent in their language, Estin might have taunted him for his belief that Feanne could call a horse, but Estin did not have the heart to mock him. It would not have accomplished much.

  They made it only about fifty feet before howling from the north brought all of them to a stop. Looking toward the snow-covered hills in the distance, Estin saw three shapes running hard in their direction. At first he thought they were small horses, despite the howls he had heard. Then, recognizing the way they moved, he realized what was coming.

  “Dire wolves,” he whispered, backing away from the animals racing across the plains toward them. “Can you control them, Feanne? Tell them to go home?”

  “I don’t control animals, Estin,” she snapped back, lowering herself into a ready stance to fight. “At best I might be able to talk them down. Be ready for anything. They might even attack me.”

  Unlike the two wildlings, Turess seemed entirely calm, clasping his hands behind his back as he waited.

  Soon the wolves were close enough that Estin could see their eyes and huge fangs. Pale, nearly white, grey fur helped them blend in with the snow farther north, but stood out against the bare stone ground near Jnodin. These wolves were as large as a pony—which was supposedly also one of their favorite meals—and from what he had heard, they were as intelligent as some humans. If it came to a fight, Feanne was likely the only one of them who might survive against three of the monsters.

  Slowing as they approached, the wolves glanced at Estin and Turess, snarling angrily as they did. They walked toward Feanne, though two of them kept watching Estin and Turess as they moved. Once they reached Feanne, the lead wolf walked right up to her, glaring at her with what Estin took to be a challenge of some kind. Feanne did not back down, meeting the large wolf’s eyes, but she also made no aggressive moves. After several seconds, the wolf lowered its eyes to her paws, as did the other two.

  “They will help us,” Feanne announced, sounding as surprised as Estin, her muscles slowly relaxing. “Not exactly the mounts we could have hoped for, but they can probably hold their own if we’re found out here.”

  “I said horse,” Turess said, looking uncomfortable. “Is wrong word? Horse is normal riding beast…”

  “No, it’s the right word,” Estin explained as he sheathed his swords. “Wrong howl.”

  Approaching cautiously, Estin came up on one of the wolves, which turned on him, eyeing him warily. From what he could see, the wolf was as skeptical about this arrangement as he was. He wanted to back away, but when Feanne climbed onto the wolf that had confronted her, he knew he had no other choice.

  Estin advanced as slowly as he could, trying not to make any sudden moves as he neared the wolf’s side. The wolf turned her head to glare at him, but allowed him to step alongside her, and did not move when he put a hand on her back. He could see her muzzle twitching as she fought to keep from attacking. This was going to be a dangerous way to travel.

  “I’m going to climb up,” he told the wolf, which continued to stare at him. “Don’t take my head off, okay?”

  Bringing her wolf around to face Estin, Feanne said, “They are not capable of speech, Estin. She doesn’t understand your words, but she knows why they are here.”

  “That wasn’t for her benefit,” he answered, trying to figure out how he was going to get atop the beast without pulling her fur. “I’m trying to convince myself.” Taking a deep breath and holding it, Estin leaped up, using his hand on the wolf to control his landing on her back. The wolf snarled and shuffled as he came down, but she did not attack or try to toss him. He grinned, happy to think he was actually surviving his first attempt to ride a dire
wolf. Looking around, he saw Turess was already mounted on the third wolf, appearing relatively calm.

  “We rode stranger things,” Turess admitted when he noticed Estin looking at him. “Is first wolf, though. Many lands, many beasts act as mount.”

  “Let’s put the city behind us,” Feanne announced, nudging it west with her knee. The wolf dug its paws in and launched itself into a run that would have rivaled many horses. A second later, Estin and Turess’s mounts followed, nearly unseating Estin in the process.

  Flattening himself on the wolf and clinging to the fur at the scruff of her neck, Estin tried to guide the animal with his knees like he would a horse. The wolf ignored him completely, following whatever movement the lead wolf made. He had absolutely no control.

  “That’ll work,” he whispered into the wolf’s fur. “Just keep following Feanne and we can be friends.”

  The wolf leaped a cluster of stones and nearly tossed Estin aside as she came down. When the wolf glanced back at him, he swore he saw amusement in her eyes. They might not understand words, but they were not stupid.

  “Okay…not friends…”

  *

  For most of the next week, the three of them continued their high-speed run toward the mountains far west of Jnodin. The sheer-sided walls of the city and its lands surprised Estin with how far they continued into the west. It took almost four days before he saw the first possible route south, if one were to avoid the city itself. More than once he found himself wondering what route Feanne’s parents had taken in escaping Turessi when they were younger, given the terrain.

  Gradually the white-peaked mountains came into sight as more than a shadow on the horizon. Each day they grew more visible, but with the sunrise each morning, the wolves would force the group to stop until the next sunset. Estin found their pattern delightful, but Turess spent much of his time either muttering in his language or squinting into the night. He was definitely not comfortable with all of their traveling being done in darkness.

  With no more than a day left until the foothills, the wolves slowed to a fast walk as the sun began to light the ground behind them. Turning toward a section of dense woods a little north of the path they had been taking, the wolves sought shelter for the group without being prompted. That had been one of the most difficult things for Estin to accept—the wolves set the pace and direction, not the riders. He had wanted to argue with his wolf the first day, when she had diverted without apparent reason, but he had chosen to trust her. Afterward he’d seen the direction they had been going would have taken them straight into a rock dragon nest, situated so the twenty-foot lizard could catch anything that fell into its lair without having to leave.

  They soon reached the woods, and the wolves stopped and waited, which was their usual signal to their riders that it was time to get off. Once they dismounted, the wolves took off into the woods, seeking out food and shelter. They never stayed with the group during the day. In fact, Estin had been unable to track them at all once they were out of sight. Certainly not animals he ever wanted stalking him.

  Stretching his legs, Estin surveyed the dense wood for some sign of anything they might be able to eat, but the place was fairly barren. He and Feanne would need to go hunting, as they had several other days. As much as he wanted to rest, his grumbling stomach warned him there were other priorities. Rest could come on a full stomach and not before.

  Unfortunately, Estin also knew that once he had eaten, Turess would keep him up for another hour or so. He had taken every rest break to sit with Estin and help him work on regaining the use of his magic. There was slow progress, but it was not something Estin really wanted to spend time on when exhausted. Worse still, he never looked forward to the nausea and occasional vomiting after the only meal for the day.

  “Turess,” Feanne said, “set up camp. Estin and I will find something to skin and cook.”

  “Or maybe some fruit or berries,” Estin added, getting a disgusted look from Feanne. There were times he forgot how much their preferential diets diverged. Other times, he enjoyed rubbing it in.

  Shaking her head, Feanne walked into the woods, forcing Estin to jog to catch up. At first he thought she had already picked up a scent, given her pace, but she was hardly sniffing at all. She kept her head down and walked quickly, often turning sharply to put a tree between herself and Estin. After the third time she had diverted to cut him off without him picking up any scent, he had to believe she was angry about something.

  “What’s wrong, Feanne?” he asked once he was certain they were far enough out that Turess could no longer see them. “You haven’t really talked the last few stops. Is this about the fruit…?”

  Stopping abruptly, Feanne came around with a forcefulness that made Estin back up a step. A claw pointing at him threateningly, she advanced, forcing him back another few feet. “How many, Estin?”

  Blinking in confusion, he searched her face for some indication of what she was talking about. Whatever it was, she had been stewing on it long enough that she no longer saw the need to fill him in on what he had done wrong. “How many…fruits? How many…what?”

  Snarling briefly, she shook her head. “How many humans did you pay?”

  Realization dawned on Estin, and he felt a little sick to his stomach. She was still dwelling on how he knew what a whorehouse was. He had never known her to hold on to anger longer than it took to punch something, and this had been almost two weeks. “Feanne, that was a long time before we met—”

  “Just answer the question, Estin!” she snapped. “How many were there?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Growling softly, Feanne let Estin know in no uncertain terms that he should not be arguing that point. Still, it was not a topic he wanted to discuss. He was ashamed of most aspects of his life before Feanne. Every action he had taken since then had been to stay with her and leave behind that past.

  “No, we’re not doing this,” he replied firmly, holding his ground as she approached with a glare normally meant to frighten foes. “There weren’t any wildlings in Altis who weren’t caged. We all made mistakes. It doesn’t matter now.”

  Feanne’s expression said otherwise. Estin tried to walk away, but she shoved him, blocking him from going around her.

  “Fine, Feanne, you want to have this argument? How many males were there before me? I know about Insrin and that first fox your mother disapproved of when you were young, but how many others? You want a number from me, I want a number from you. It’s only fair.”

  Feanne blinked and backed away, turning sharply, and started to walk again.

  Unwilling to let it go, Estin ran to her and grabbed her by the wrist to spin her around to face him. “How many, Feanne? You want me to answer the same question. If it matters this much, I want to know too.”

  Flinching and looking anywhere but at him, she yanked her hand free. “You are right. We shouldn’t do this.”

  “Now we’re doing this,” he insisted, stepping in front of her as she tried to go around him. “It’s obviously bothering you enough that the ‘no regrets’ rule has been tossed aside. We’re talking about this now and getting it over with.” Feanne started to walk away, but Estin followed her. “How many? Three?” Feanne’s ears twitched, a sign she was hiding something. “Four?” Another twitch. “Answer the question!”

  Feanne turned and tried to push past Estin, but he shoved her back, getting a vicious snarl in reply. She hesitated a second, but then she leaped at him, claws and fangs attempting to get a hold on him. He blocked and evaded as best he could, eventually using a tree as a shield, narrowly avoiding a swipe of her claws that shredded the bark near his face.

  Coming around the tree swinging, Estin nearly managed to get a solid hit on Feanne’s ribs, but she spun in a way that reminded him of Raeln’s fighting style. She hooked his arm as she came around, locking his elbow and forcing him to the ground.

  “Do not ever make demands like that again!” she hissed near his ear. “I am
not that child anymore, and there are far too many regrets that I will spend my life trying to avoid adding to. Do not ask me again.”

  Rolling forward, Estin yanked his arm free and nearly knocked Feanne over in the process. He got to his feet as fast as he could, barely managing to turn before Feanne slammed into him, driving him backward into a tree with enough force that it drove the breath from his lungs.

  The two of them held their ground, Estin locking his hands on Feanne’s wrists, while she used her greater strength to keep him pressed against the tree. When he tried to move his tail around to strike at her from behind, Feanne stomped on it, pinning it down with her claws dug into the fur. His whole body ached as he struggled against her. This was not a fight he could win. Even without her magic, Feanne was faster and stronger than he was.

  “Shhhh!” hissed another person, and both Feanne and Estin froze, moving only their eyes. They found Turess standing nearby, furtively glancing from one part of the woods to another. He looked terrified. “Do you hear?”

  Relaxing slightly, Estin stared at in confusion, listening for anything out of place. Aside from his and Feanne’s panting, there was nothing he could hear at all, though Feanne’s ears twitched as she sought the noise as well.

  “Is soft noise,” Turess said quietly, bringing his boots down as gently as he could as he made his way to them. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he added, “Must listen.”

  With Feanne and Estin still frozen midfight, Turess came to their sides and eyed their interlocked arms, then Estin’s tail still pinned to the ground. Shaking his head, he tapped Feanne’s shin with his boot until she moved her paw off Estin’s tail. Next, he peeled Feanne’s hand off Estin’s shoulder, and Estin’s hands off Feanne’s arms, until they stood close but not touching. They both stared at him in confusion, straining to hear anything.