Balestone Read online

  Chapter 5

  Lexi

  Night had fallen without warning, and Lexi was left in complete darkness. She had no way to start a fire, and even though she had seen plenty of dried tamaka dung throughout the day, she had nothing that she could carry the fire in.

  A sense of defeat overwhelmed her. She had needed to get back to the camp before sunset. She was close, she knew that. Dancer, her furry new companion, had shown her that much when it was tossed into the air and caught the updrafts that lifted her high into the sky. Since then, the little animal had been curled on Lexi’s shoulder, its long furry tail wrapped around her arm to ensure it didn’t fall to the ground again.

  Lexi was exhausted and tempted to try and sleep through the night again. She carefully made her way back to the rear of the wagon. Rafe was no longer mumbling in his fever-induced delusions, but he was still extremely hot to the touch. His skin felt like a stone left out in the summer sunshine. She knew she needed to get to the camp, but she didn’t know how she could in the darkness.

  She went to the horses, whose heads were drooping with fatigue. They were too tired to even graze on the long, grassy moss that covered the prairie. Lexi thought about unhitching them from the wagon, but she couldn’t see how to do it in the darkness.

  Dancer roused, almost as if the little animal could sense Lexi’s distress. It trilled and nudged the side of Lexi’s face with a tiny paw. Lexi couldn’t help but smile. She had grown quite fond of the little animal. She had named the creature Dancer because of the way it jumped and balanced on small objects. It was so graceful and surefooted, almost as if it were dancing across the ground, up her leg, over the wagon, and onto her shoulder. And that was before she had seen it lifted high into the air, where it seemed to skip from one invisible air current to another.

  “Oh, Dancer, what are we going to do now?” she said.

  The little animal trilled and chirped. Lexi looked up and, to her surprise, in the distance she could see sparks of light.

  “Someone’s lit fires,” she said.

  Dancer chirped happily and hopped across her shoulders. Lexi climbed up into the wagon and flicked the reins. The horses started forward again.

  “Just a little further,” she encouraged them. “Then you can rest. I promise.”

  It took an hour to get close enough that Lexi could see the shadowy forms of the Hoskali tents near the fires in the camp. Dancer began hopping up and down excitedly.

  “Okay, okay,” Lexi said.

  She pulled on the reins and stopped the wagon. She hoped the little animal could see better in the dark than she could. Otherwise the poor creature might get lost. She stood up and took Dancer in her hands.

  “Here you go,” she said, then tossed the small animal high into the air.

  Lexi couldn’t see it moving through the night sky, but soon she felt the buzzing in her head again. She sat down on the wagon’s bench seat and closed her eyes. In her mind she could see the camp ahead. She was surprised at how much the little animal could see in the dark. Things were shadowy, but she could clearly see the tribe still lying on mats outside of the camp. There were small fires burning, and Lexi saw that something was being cooked over a larger fire, but what caught her attention was the ring of raiders circled around a wooden stake. She recognized Olyva and Tiberius, and as she watched, she saw one of the raiders club Tiberius in the head.

  “No!” she said, reaching out and opening her eyes.

  The image vanished from her mind, and Lexi felt as if she had just woken up from a dream, but she knew what she’d seen was real. Tiberius was in trouble, and Lexi knew he needed her help.

  She climbed down off the wagon and checked to ensure that her Wangorian dagger was still in her belt. She wanted to check on Rafe and see to the horses, but there was no time. She jogged forward, leaving the wagon full of water in the darkness. She kept low to the ground to reduce the chances of being seen. She was used to sneaking through the dark alleys and narrow streets of the lower levels of Avondale, where the moon and stars —not to mention light from torches or lanterns — could give her away. In the darkness of the blighted lands, no one could see her moving across the vast plain, but she did her best to move silently just the same.

  Using Dancer’s night vision, she crept around the field of ailing Hoskali. Just before she reached the edge of the camp, Dancer landed lightly on her shoulder. One of the raiders had been left seeing to the roasting oxen. Not even the hungry band of enemy Rogu could eat the entire ox in one sitting. The rest of the oxen meat would be dried slowly through the night so that it could be eaten on their journey back to their own tribe. That lone raider had been outside Tiberius’ spell range. And he’d come back to the others just in time to see Bu’yorgi fall to the ground under the power of Ti’s sleep spell.

  With Tiberius unconscious, the raider had checked on his companions. He found them sleeping but otherwise unharmed, so he returned to the oxen. He was standing near the hot coals, turning the massive spit where the rest of the oxen was cooking. Lexi waited until the man stepped back from the spit. Then she ran forward. She was as lithe as a cat. The raider never heard her, but he felt the knife slam into his back. It slipped between his ribs and into his heart just as Lexi’s other hand came up and clamped down on the man’s mouth.

  Blood poured out hot and sticky over Lexi’s hand and the handle of her dagger. She tugged the weapon from the raider’s body as he dropped at her feet. The metal came free with a grotesque slurping sound. Lexi had to keep the image of the man clubbing Tiberius in the head to keep her feelings of guilt from overwhelming her. Lexi had killed before, but only in self-defense. She told herself the raider was an enemy, who would kill her or worse. Slaying him was the only way to ensure that he didn’t rouse the entire group of warriors, but she didn’t like the fact that she had stabbed him from behind like a craven murderer. Lexi had known men who would kill for the right reasons or enough coin. Many of them preferred to stab their victims in the back; it was the surest way to kill without risking being hurt or, worse yet, caught by the paladins who policed Avondale.

  She shook her head as if to cast off the guilt as she hurried toward the prisoners at the center of the camp. She stopped in the shadow of the large tent she shared with Tiberius. The ring of sleeping warriors was just beyond the shelter, and there were several small fires illuminating the scene. Lexi couldn’t understand why the raiders were all sleeping, but she knew there would be no better time to free Tiberius. As she moved stealthily past the sleeping raiders, Dancer jumped from her shoulder and glided to the top of the spear shaft that held Olyva and Tiberius. Lexi had her dagger out. She wondered briefly how many of the raiders she could have killed in their sleep before the group of warriors woke up.

  Then she was at Tiberius’ side. A trickle of blood ran down his cheek from a cut somewhere on the side of his head. Her dagger cut the grass ropes easily enough, and Tiberius sagged against her. Lexi had to be careful not to fall in the pile of wood around the two prisoners. She couldn’t hold Tiberius’ weight so she propped him against the spear, his knees near his chest.

  “Tiberius,” she whispered as she patted his face. “Come on, Ti, wake up!”

  His eyes opened slowly, and a moan escaped his lips.

  “Tiberius, can you hear me?” Lexi asked.

  She couldn’t help but worry that he was permanently injured. The soft wood of the Rogu clubs didn’t usually cause injuries, but a blow to a person’s head was always risky. Lexi wished she had some water to splash on Tiberius’ face, but she’d left all the water she had retrieved in the wagon with Rafe. She needed to get Tiberius and Olyva to the wagon as quickly as possible, but she wasn’t big enough to carry Tiberius. She doubted if she could carry Olyva that far on her own.

  “Tiberius?” she asked again.

  This time his eyes seemed to focus, and he looked at her.

  “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice a raw croak.

&nb
sp; “Oh, god, I’m so glad you’re okay. Can you walk?”

  “I think so. Do you have any water?”

  “Yes, but not here. It’s not in the camp.”

  “Where’s Rafe?”

  “He’s sick. He needs help.”

  “Okay, take me to him.”

  Lexi helped Tiberius to his feet. He stood holding onto the spear shaft to steady himself as Lexi cut through Olyva’s bonds. When she flung the dirty blanket off Olyva’s head, the noble-born lady took a deep breath.

  “Are you okay?” Lexi asked.

  “You’re back,” Olyva said. “I was afraid you were sick, too.”

  “Rafe is sick,” Lexi whispered. “I’ll take you to him. Can you walk?”

  Olyva nodded, and at the same time, Dancer trilled and hopped down onto Lexi’s shoulder.

  “What’s that?” Tiberius asked, his voice loud in the silence of the camp.

  “Quiet,” Lexi whispered. “I’ll explain later. Be careful stepping over the wood.”

  Lexi helped Olyva over the pile of wood and then Tiberius. Olyva was tired, her body visibly stiff from being tied to the stake for so long, but she was always weak at night. Tiberius, on the other hand, was barely able to walk. The women each took an arm and helped him flee the camp. They didn’t speak until they were well outside the flickering lights of the fires around the camp.

  “Where are we going?” Tiberius said.

  “The wagon has water. Rafe’s sleeping in the back,” Lexi explained. “I wasn’t sure what was happening, so I left it outside the camp.”

  “How far?” Tiberius asked.

  “It’s not really close,” Lexi said. “I could leave you here and come back for you.”

  “That might be best.”

  Lexi and Olyva eased Tiberius to the ground. He was breathing heavily, and Lexi wished she had a torch so she could see his face.

  “He’s still sick,” Olyva said. “The whole camp is ill. I had to ration what little water we had left.”

  “I’ve got more water. I’ll bring it.”

  “What about the raiders?” Olyva asked. “When they wake up and find us missing, they’ll come looking for us.”

  “I don’t know,” Lexi said, honestly unsure of what to do.

  She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to take Tiberius and flee. In Avondale, she had always avoided trouble by sneaking away. She could move as silently as a shadow and she never stayed in one place too long. But on the massive plains of the blighted lands, there was no place to go, no place to hide.

  “I’m going for the wagon,” Lexi said.

  “If Rafe is in the wagon, then I’m coming with you.”

  “Are you sure you’re strong enough?”

  “I’m coming,” Olyva said.

  Lexi nodded, even though Olyva couldn’t see her nod in the darkness. Her hand went to Dancer, who cooed quietly. She flung the small animal into the air and then took Olyva’s hand. Lexi’s sense of direction was usually good, even in the dark, but without anything to mark her way, she had no way of knowing if she was traveling in the right direction. When her head began to buzz, she stopped moving.

  “What is it?” Olyva asked, her voice tense with fear.

  “I’m just getting my bearings,” Lexi explained.

  She closed her eyes, and the entire camp was laid out below her. From Dancer’s viewpoint she could see everything. The enemy raiders were still asleep around the now-empty stake in the camp. She could see Tiberius lying on the ground. He was gently probing the side of his head to find the cut that was bleeding. She saw herself and Olyva, huddled together in the darkness. Dancer’s acute vision pierced the gloomy night, and in the distance Lexi could see the wagon.

  “It’s this way,” she said, opening her eyes and leading the way.

  Olyva followed without saying a word. Lexi would have expected the haughty young noble to question her. In fact, when Olyva and Rafe had been exiled from Avondale, Olyva had been a weeping mess. But she had changed, grown stronger and more accepting. She followed Lexi without a word, and Lexi appreciated that.

  It took them almost twenty minutes to reach the wagon. Lexi had been cautious leaving the wagon so far from the camp, but that was her nature. She didn’t mind doing a little extra work if it meant giving her a better chance of success. She often spent days studying a mark before robbing someone when she was living on the streets of Avondale. Caution and stealth had seen her through many difficult circumstances, and she saw no reason to change now.

  “He’s in the back,” Lexi said.

  She was checking the horses, who huffed as she rubbed their necks and checked their harnesses in the darkness. There was no reason to believe that anyone had been to the wagon, but Lexi felt better knowing that the horses were ready to pull the heavy cart. Olyva went back to the rear of the wagon and climbed in with Rafe. Lexi heard her whispering softly. She also heard water being splashed onto his burning skin.

  Lexi climbed into the wagon and picked up the reins. With a flick of her wrists, the horses started pulling. Lexi closed her eyes again and saw the wagon moving from high above the prairie. She kept it moving closer and closer to the camp, hoping the noise wouldn’t disturb the raiders. She could probably outrun the group of warriors for a while in the wagon, but the horses were exhausted. Running would probably kill them or cause them to turn up lame. She didn’t want that. And there was no way they could outpace the enemy Rogu for long. The tribal hunters could move at speed for hours without growing tired. They would catch up with the horses and then slaughter Lexi and everyone she cared about.

  She stopped the wagon when she was near Tiberius. She went around to the back, groping blindly in the darkness.

  “I need the pitcher with water,” Lexi said.

  “Here,” Olyva said, holding it out.

  Lexi found it and carried it to Tiberius. Neither of them could see, but Lexi got the pitcher into Ti’s hands.

  “Drink it slow,” she cautioned. “Then let’s get back to the wagon. We can’t stay here.”

  “All right,” Tiberius said.

  He slurped at the water, his cracked lips and dry tongue greedily sucking on the tepid water. Then he got slowly to his feet. Lexi steadied him and then led him to the wagon. He climbed up onto the bench seat with Lexi, who got the horses moving again. She would have liked to have left the water for the tribe, but she wasn’t strong enough to move the barrels full of water, and no one with her was strong enough to help.

  The wagon rumbled over the soft turf, and after an hour they were nearly three miles from the camp. Everyone was exhausted. Tiberius was asleep already, slumped against Lexi. When they stopped, Lexi and Olyva stretched out on the ground.

  “Dancer, you’ve got to keep watch,” Lexi told the little animal. “Wake me up if someone comes this way.”

  The little animal chirped and trilled, then bounded up the wagon and perched on the tallest part. Lexi closed her eyes, trying not to feel how badly her body ached or how scared she was of what would happen in the morning. She prayed silently that Tiberius would be stronger and that Olyva could heal Rafe, but she fell asleep before she could finish her plea.

  Chapter 6

  Tiberius

  As morning broke, Tiberius came around. It was thirst, more than anything, that woke him up. He stirred on the bench of the wagon, his body aching as he stretched. The little furry animal with big eyes looked at him from the back rest of the bench. It tilted its head and stared curiously.

  “Hello there,” Tiberius said, his voice still dry and cracking.

  The animal trilled, then went back to staring across the plain toward the camp, which was little more than a dark blur on the horizon now. Tiberius found the canister of water he’d been drinking from the night before. He slowly climbed down from the wagon. He was tired, but he felt better than he had in days. His head was clear, and while his body felt stiff from sleeping on the hard, wooden bench, he didn’t feel sick. Just weak from hunger and t
hirst. He could still smell the roasted meat from the oxen the raiders had butchered, and it made his stomach rumble. He would need to eat soon, but first he needed more water.

  At the back of the wagon, Tiberius found Rafe. His friend was very sick — one look told Tiberius that much. He dipped water from one of the barrels with the pitcher and then dribbled water into Rafe’s mouth. His lips parted, and a swollen tongue protruded, but Rafe didn’t wake up. Once Tiberius had drunk his fill, he leaned onto the wagon, breathing deeply and letting the water refresh his body.

  Two things were painfully obvious. The first was that the raiders would soon attack. Tiberius remembered that things were going well the night before. He had thought he was on the verge of success when someone had blindsided him. He was lucky that Lexi had come along when she did. Most of the raiders were under his sleeping spell, but not all of them. The raiders would be waking up soon. Once they realized their captives were missing, Tiberius guessed that Bu’yorgi would send his men after them. It wouldn’t take long for the enemy warriors to find them and attack. When that happened, Tiberius needed to be ready and he needed Lexi, Olyva, and Rafe far enough away that they wouldn’t get hurt if Tiberius accidentally lost control of the magic he would have to unleash to stop the raiders.

  Secondly, Rafe needed help. Tiberius wasn’t sure if his spells would really help his friend. There wasn’t a spell to counteract poison, but he had to try something. Olyva’s concoction had helped Tiberius, but it was a slow-acting cure. Tiberius needed Rafe strong enough to protect Olyva and Lexi if Ti failed to stop the raiders.

  Ti gave Rafe some more water as the sky brightened overhead. Then he closed his eyes and began to chant his spell.

  “Sano Frebricula Reducto,” he said softly.

  It was the spell for reducing fever. The magic seemed to swirl between Rafe and Tiberius. Compared to most magic, the fever-reducing spell was easy, but it still required Tiberius to will it into his friend’s body. Ti felt his own temperature seeming to rise as he poured the magic into Rafe. Soon Tiberius felt as if he were standing too close to a fire. His face and hands were so hot they were almost burning, but he stayed focused on chanting the words of the spell and directing the magic into action.