Soulbinder (Book 3) (12 page)

The three men down below watched in silent amazement as Kara moved slowly upwards, the rope trailing behind her.

Joseph stared up after her, a strange expression on his face.

Kendril gave him a jesting smile. “Don’t enjoy the view too much, Joseph.”

“What?” said Joseph, his concentration suddenly broken. He looked quickly down. “I wasn’t—I mean I didn’t—”

“Relax,” said the Ghostwalker with a chuckle. “I wasn’t being serious.”

Maklavir tilted his head appreciatively, still looking upwards at Kara’s disappearing form. “You know, she really is terribly talented. I had no idea she climb freehand like that.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” said Joseph. He glanced over at Kendril. “So tell me, what’s so important about that pendant Galla took?”

Kendril stepped back from the statue as well.

“I don’t know. When Kara described it I thought…” he paused, shaking his head.

“Thought what?” asked Maklavir curiously.

“Nothing,” said Kendril in a voice to end the conversation. “Either way, though, we need to find Galla. I still have some questions for him.”

“About that,” said Joseph uncomfortably, “you…were right about him all along. If we had listened to you we would never have gotten ourselves in this situation.”

Kendril gave a good-natured shrug. “We’d still be broke, too.” He smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Joseph. Believe it or not, I’ve been wrong before once or twice myself.”

“What galls me,” said Maklavir, “is that he lied to us.
Twice
. And we bought it both times.”

“He won’t lie to us again,” said Kendril coldly. “I’ll make sure of that.”

They stood around in silence for several more tense minutes, until the rope suddenly pulled up, then fell limp. A few seconds later there was a sharp tug from above.

Joseph walked up and gave the rope a light pull, then a harder one.

“Well I’ll be a Guild eunuch,” he said in wonder.

“Hey guys,” called a familiar voice from above. “Come on up.”

It was snowing again by the time they made it back to camp. In the east the sun was sinking low on the horizon, shading the sky in deep purple and red.

“At least he left the animals,” said Joseph in relief. He walked over to the fire pit, and glanced down at the cold embers. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here since last night.”

“He probably headed straight for Stefgarten,” said Kendril bitterly. “There was no need for him to stop by here. He had everything he needed.” He walked up to Simon, and gave the mule an amiable pat on the nose.

The beast gave an angry snort.

“Sorry boy,” the Ghostwalker said with a smile. “Didn’t intend to be away that long.”

Kara brushed some snow off a nearby log and sat down. She glanced down at her sleeve. It was smeared with dirt. “Oh, well,” she said cheerfully. “Better than soot.”

Maklavir carefully inspected Veritas, patting the horse reassuringly on the flank. “I still can’t believe you did that.” He looked back at the young woman. “If you had spoken up sooner we could have saved ourselves a few hours of frustration.”

“Well,” Kara replied nonchalantly, “I wanted to make sure the dagger really wouldn’t work. After all, there was a good chance that I could have fallen.”

Joseph shot her a quick look.

“Yes, I know,” said Kara. She gave a little laugh. “You’re very sweet to look out for me, Joseph.”

“Oh,” said Kendril, firing a covert wink in Maklavir’s direction, “You know Joseph. He worries about everyone.”

Joseph glared at Kendril.

Maklavir pretended to examine a saddlebag, hiding a smile.

“Well,” said Kara with a glance up at the sky, “it looks like it’ll be dark soon.”

“Yes,” said Joseph, grateful for the change of subject. “We might as well bed down here for the night. I’ll scout around for some more firewood.”

“Bed down?” Kendril’s face lost all traces of humor. “Galla already has a full day’s march on us.”

“I know,” said Joseph. He rubbed his nose, red from the cold. “We’ll have to take up the chase in the morning.”

“Not if we chase him through the night,” the Ghostwalker replied. “We might be able to catch him before dawn.”

Joseph checked the rapier at his side. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s going to be very, very dark tonight.”

“You’re a pathfinder, aren’t you?” said Kendril sharply. “So find us a path.”

Joseph looked over at his friend, snowflakes swirling all around him. “Kendril, I know you want to catch up to Galla. But we’re exhausted, and you’re injured.”

Kendril made a dismissive gesture towards the bruise on his face. “It’s just a bump on the head, Joseph.”

“You need to rest, Kendril. We all do. Stumbling around in the black of night won’t do us any good.”

The Ghostwalker scowled and turned away.

“He’s right, you know.” Maklavir breathed into his hands, rubbing them together against the chill. “If we rest up tonight we’ll be in a much better place to track Galla down tomorrow.”

“Besides,” said Kara, undoing her ponytail and shaking her hair free, “Galla probably thinks we’re still trapped in that cave. We have time on our side.”

Kendril brushed some of the snow off his shoulders. “Alright,” he said at last. “Let’s build a fire.”

The shavings flew off the small piece of wood, scattering over the snow.

Joseph blew again, harder, and the last few shreds tossed away into the darkness. He held the piece of whittling up in his hands, analyzing it in the firelight. The shape of a bird was clearly discernible now, soaring freely on an imaginary breeze.

Joseph smiled softly, and picked up his knife again.

“So,” said a quiet voice beside him, “are you ever going to actually
tell
her?”

Startled, Joseph glanced over to see Kendril sitting up in his bedroll.

“Tell who what?”

Kendril stretched. “You know who. And you know what.”

Joseph looked down again at the wooden bird in his hands. “I don’t know. I’m…waiting for the right moment, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t wait too long. Maklavir might wake up one of these days and realize there’s a beautiful woman in the camp.”

Joseph spun his head in Kendril’s direction, and almost dropped his knife. “He couldn’t—he
wouldn’t
…
she
wouldn’t…?”

Kendril smirked, rubbing his unshaven chin. “Who knows? He seems to find a willing enough girl in every town we visit.”

Joseph set his face, and looked down at the bird once more. “I’m sure Kara would have more sense than that.”

“Yes,” the Ghostwalker agreed, “I imagine she would.” He looked over at the young woman on the other side of the campfire.

Her face was relaxed and peaceful as she slept.

“I told you before that I don’t know a lot about women,” said Kendril somberly, “and I don’t. But I do know this; you let a woman go that you love, and you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Joseph bowed his head silently. He turned the bird over in his hands. After several minutes, he spoke. “It’ll be dawn soon. You should try to sleep.”

Kendril gave a dismissive shrug. “Can’t. I’ve got too much on my mind.”

“Galla?”

The Ghostwalker nodded. He paused for a moment, staring at the campfire reflectively. “I had a dream,” he said at last. “Last night.”

Joseph looked over at him curiously, but said nothing.

“There was a woman,” continued Kendril, “dressed in a golden robe, with bright blue hair and eyes.” He looked over at his friend. “She warned me that something was about to begin.”

Joseph rubbed his thumb absently on the top of the carved bird. “What?”

“She didn’t say.” Kendril tilted his head back, closing his eyes as if remembering. “She only told me not to waver, but to hold fast, and that despair would not triumph. And she told me I was not alone. When I woke up, Galla was gone.”

“You’re talking about a vision,” said Joseph slowly.

“I know,” the Kendril replied. “But what about the woman? The description is like a Guardian of old, isn’t it?”

Joseph looked over at the fire again. “Yes. Though no Guardian has been seen in Zanthora for a long time.” He gave a half-smile. “At least by no sane person.”

Kendril shook his head. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. It’s all nonsense anyway.”

Joseph set the bird down on the log beside him. “You don’t really think that, or you wouldn’t have brought it up.” He looked over at the Ghostwalker. “If what you saw was real,” he said quietly, “then it means Despair, doesn’t it?”

“The Fourth Despair,” said Kendril in a monotone. He stared straight ahead, the light from the campfire flickering over his shadowed form. His face suddenly hardened. “I’m being a fool,” he said harshly. “It was a dream, nothing more.”

“So why are you worried?” asked Joseph in the same quiet voice. “There’s something about the timing of this dream that’s bothering you, isn’t it? Something about that pendant Galla took?”

Kendril looked down at the snow-covered ground. “We have to find him, Joseph.”

Joseph nodded, tucking the bird back into his pocket. “Seems like we do,” he said.

Chapter 8

“Does that man have some kind of animal under his coat?” Maklavir peered curiously up the main street of Stefgarten, nodding at a heavily bearded trapper who was staggering across the street.

Kara raised her eyebrows, looking around the corner of the porch she was sitting on. “Where?”

“Right there.” Maklavir started to point. “Wait, he’s gone now.” He looked back over at Kara. “I’m telling you, his jacket was actually
moving
.”

The redhead sat back. “I don’t think I want to know.”

“Now that you mention it,” said Maklavir as he leaned against the porch post, “neither do I.” He gave a heavy sigh. “It’s so good to be back in civilization again.”

Kara smiled, but said nothing.

“Tuldor’s beard!” The door to the inn slammed shut, and Kendril stormed out onto the snow-covered porch, followed by Joseph.

Maklavir pushed his cap back onto his head, looking up at the two men. “So, did you find our friend Galla?”

“Galla,” said Kendril seethed, “has already left town.”

Kara got to her feet. “That was fast.”

“Yes,” said Kendril as he stomped down the porch steps. “It was.”

Maklavir glanced at the black-cloaked man quizzically. “So what now?”

“Now,” said Kendril without stopping, “we head across the street.”

Kara and Maklavir looked at each other, then at Joseph.

The bearded scout just shrugged, then nodded towards the Trading Post a little ways down the road. “The innkeeper said Galla caught a ride over there,” he explained as he walked.

Kara and Maklavir fell in behind him. All three followed Kendril through the muddy snow.

“Where did he go?” Kara asked.

“Let’s find out,” said Kendril. He jumped up the three broad wooden steps of the Trading Post, and pushed the front door open.

The interior was dim, lit only by the white light flooding in through the front windows. The wooden walls were covered with ropes, lanterns, furs, and a few rusty crossbows, all available for sale. Shelves lined one side of the room, covered with bags of flour, cans of oil, and jars of preserved goods. On the wall behind the large wooden counter hung every tool possibly imaginable, from a lowly hatchet to an ox-goad.

An overweight man with a huge brown mustache greeted them as they entered. “What can I do for you?” he asked cheerfully.

“We’re looking for a Baderan,” said Kendril immediately. “Slimy fellow, lots of rings and greased hair.”

The merchant nodded thoughtfully. “I know him,” he said, his face crinkling. “Disgusting man. I was glad to see him leave.”

“When?” Joseph asked.

“Yesterday afternoon.” The man nodded towards the front windows. “Took the Ice Sled to Vorten.”

Maklavir quickly set down the can of peach preserves he had been looking at. “Vorten?”

“Yes. And like I said, I was glad to see him go. No Baderan ever did any good around here.”

“Forgive my asking,” said Kara, “but what exactly is an Ice Sled?”

The storeowner looked over at the pretty young woman with a more-than friendly smile. “Not from around here, are you now, lass?” He picked up a towel, wiping down part of the counter. “The stage coach has a hard time running out this far north, especially during the winter. When the snow comes, they take the coaches, remove the wheels, and put sleds on ‘em instead. Slows the service down a bit, but it works tolerable well.”

Joseph stepped between the merchant and Kara. “So you said he took the sled to Vorten?”

“Yeah.” The storeowner bent forward a bit, giving Kara another broad smile. “He said he had business there.”

“Did he?” Kendril said grimly. “When does the next sled leave?”

The man gave an apologetic shrug. “Like I said, the service gets pretty slow this time of year. I imagine the next coach for Vorten will be along in a couple days.”

“Tuldor’s beard,” the Ghostwalker cursed again. He turned and strode angrily out through the front door.

“Sorry,” the storeowner said to the three remaining companions. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

Joseph gave Maklavir and Kara a glance, then headed back out the door himself.

Kendril was standing at the bottom of the Trading Post steps, glaring silently down the length of the main street.

It had started snowing again, mixed with a little rain.

Joseph shivered as it began to pelt his head and shoulders. He moved up behind the Ghostwalker. “So what now?”

Kendril didn’t turn. “How long will it take us to get to Vorten?”

Joseph glanced up at the frozen rain pattering the roof of the Trading Post behind them. “If we walk? Probably three days. That’s assuming we don’t get caught in a blizzard or something.” He shrugged. “Or freeze to death.”

The Ghostwalker turned around, his face set with a look of determination. “You can get us there?”

The scout took a step back and ducked under the slight cover from the overhang above them. “Sure. It’s a pretty straight shot. Just follow the highway. I doubt we’d have much trouble at the border.”