The Way of the Black Beast (28 page)

As she rounded the rubble pile, she discovered her answer, and while she had no expectations, she never expected anything like this. Fawbry.

"Here, here, I've got food," the griffle said, jumping around while Fawbry lay with his back against a lamppost. He looked tired and bruised — his left cheek puffed and dark. His lovely coat, now blotted with dirt, lacked its usual sheen. "Eat, eat. Then read, Mayor, please read."

Fawbry patted the white tufts and nibbled on something dark and round. Before he could swallow, the griffle tugged at Fawbry's coat pocket. Fawbry grinned through gritted teeth and pulled out his little Book of Kryssta.

"Okay," he said. "Calm down. I'll read one more, but then we've got to get some sleep." He thumbed the pages until he settled on one. "Listen, now.

Though Time is infinite —

Ours is a flicker of candlelight —

It is ours to burn away"

"Whee!" the griffle shouted and rolled on the ground. "That's my new favorite."

"Shhh," Fawbry said. "We have to stay quiet."

Malja surveyed the area one more time but still found no threats. She stepped into view and nodded at Fawbry. "Hi there," she said.

Fawbry and the griffle jumped to their feet. Fawbry fought against wincing, but his hand went up to his side and rubbed a sore spot. When he saw who had spoken, his posture dropped, and Malja caught a disappointed scowl flash across his face. But he broke out a smile.

"Malja. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm happy to see you."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, not bothering to pretend smiling.

Fawbry glanced around. "Are you alone?"

"Are you?"

Opening his arms, he said, "It's just us two. Really."

Malja stomped toward Fawbry and raised Viper, poised to strike. "You better explain what you're doing here. How is it that you didn't know where Jarik and Callib were, yet here you are? That doesn't happen by accident."

Fawbry shrunk back. "I see nothing's changed for you. Calm down. No need for that. It's all easy to explain."

"Explain fast."

"Well, the short side of it is that after I left you, I headed west."

"Why west?"

"South is the Freelands, North is my family, and East ends at the ocean. None of those were good options. I couldn't go to Barris Mont without you. I wouldn't dare. So, I just wandered west for some time. A few days ago, I ran into two trogets. You ever seen them? Big brutes with horns running down their spines. They wanted to eat me. I tried to read them some of the Book of Kryssta because it worked with the griffles. Turns out it only kind of worked this time. They decided not to kill me, because they thought they might get a bigger reward if they brought somebody with brains to their masters."

"Let me guess — Jarik and Callib."

"They had me held near the edge of the city. Tufts and several other griffles ended up here after you broke up my little gang. He's always been loyal. So when he saw me, he helped me escape."

The griffle puffed his chest. "I did that."

"You looking for protection now?" Malja asked. "Is that why you're speaking nice to me?"

"I'm talking to you at all, because you've got that curved blade ready to eviscerate me." Fawbry put his arm around the griffle. "But we are on the run. So, we would appreciate your protection, of course, but I'm not trying to lie to you. I'm not trying to be falsely nice or anything like that." He raised his arm to reveal the stump where his hand should have been. "When I left, I was angry. I'm still angry. But I've never been outright stupid, either. I don't want to be here." He leaned close to Malja and whispered, "Frankly, I pretty much figured we were dead. I was just comforting the little guy and stalling. So if you can help me, if you're willing, then I'll gladly take your help."

Malja sheathed Viper. "You don't want to be here with me. I'll just make a bigger mess for you. Besides, I'm not leaving here. Not yet. I'm going after Jarik and Callib, and I'm going to rescue Tommy."

"Tommy? What happened to him?"

The genuine concern in Fawbry's voice, the worry bordering on fear, touched Malja. Hesitantly, she went on, "I think Jarik and Callib have him."

Fawbry exchanged looks with the griffle. "No, no, no. This can't be. We were just sitting here reading from the Book about life and why we're here at all. I was trying to tell Tufts how I appreciated the risks he took for me, and how life is about doing for others, and that if you do that, if you help others, then good things come your way."

"Kryssta says that?"

Fawbry shrugged. "Everything I've ever done was for myself. Even helping you was just a way to stay safe enough to get to Barris Mont. And in the end, all it got me was the loss of my hand and almost being eaten by a couple of trogets. But this little guy here snuck in while those beasts slept, untied me, got me out, got me food, all because he believes in the Book and in me."

"Careful, you're starting to sound like Tumus."

"Look, I don't know what I'm thinking, exactly, but something's different. You suddenly show up right when we're talking about all this. Maybe Kryssta's trying to tell me that if instead of getting you to help me, that if I help you save Tommy, maybe things'll get better for me. No, that's crazy. I've been through a lot. My brain's not working right. But still, that's how I read it."

"Me read it, too," Tufts said. "We help. We get good things. We help. We help."

Malja didn't want to take him along, but she felt wrong leaving him here. "Cole's with us," she warned.

Looking around with awe, Fawbry shrugged. "Doesn't matter. This isn't about me."

With a frown, Malja said, "Okay. Follow me. And keep that griffle quiet on our way back. I'm tired, and I don't want to fight tonight."

They returned in silence. Malja tried to equate this Fawbry with the one who had left her back in the Freelands. Something had changed, and she thought it had to be more than just coming close to dying. That could change a person, but life in this world was full of chances to die. It could be a scary, altering experience, at first, but after awhile, even danger becomes routine.

When they got back to the others, they settled in for the remaining few hours of night. Malja surprised herself — she fell asleep within minutes.

* * * *

The following morning arrived to the shocked gasps of Cole and Tumus. Before they could ask a coherent question, Malja said, "I found them last night, and they're coming with us. This is about Jarik and Callib and Tommy. All your problems with each other get buried for now. Understood?"

Tumus glowered. Cole let out a sigh. But both women nodded.

"Good," Malja said. "Then let's get going."

The day passed in an arduous, silent hike. Miles of rubble piled against shells of once-towering buildings. The stench of rotting corpses flowed in and out, blending with the ever-present rich aroma of burnt wood.

Tufts had the energy of a child. At times, he would race ahead like a scout, or he'd circle members of the group — studying faces and embracing scents. Fawbry brought up the rear, keeping his distance from the others but staying close enough for protection.

By the time night approached, Malja saw something different from the monotony of destruction — an amber halo several blocks ahead. "Cole," she said, "what's that?"

Cole's features broke into an appreciative smile. "By Korstra and for Kryssta's sake, I don't believe it."

Tumus said, "Please don't blasphemy."

"That must be the factories."

"For what?" Malja asked.

"Everything. Jarik and Callib have hundreds of people and creatures living here. They need food, clothing, everything. Those factories use magic and muscle to provide."

"They run all night?"

Cole tapped her lips. "Perhaps they're making up for lost work from fighting while their masters were gone. Who knows? The factories, though, they're big. We'll have to cut west to go around them."

"How far?"

"Miles, I imagine."

"We don't have the time anymore. Jarik and Callib have had plenty of rest. Let's go ahead and scout what's up there. Then I'll decide."

Tufts hopped from foot to foot. "I scout. I scout."

"No. I need to see it myself."

Fawbry waved a finger. "No way am I staying behind. If I don't stick with you this time, bad things'll happen."

Tumus said, "What's he talking about?"

With a friendly pat, Cole said, "Don't worry. It's just some of Krysstanism coming through."

"Well, I won't stay behind if he's going. Korstra needs to be heard, too."

Malja raised her hands. "Stop it. All of you just shut up. You can all come. Just be quiet."

They proceeded along the streets, the factory lights brightening as they closed in on the location. Though they could hear the clangs and calls of people at work and see the warm lights surrounding the enormous buildings, they felt colder than any time before.

The buildings stretched off like a river and endless chimneys punched the sky. Fences made of chains, wood, and scavenged junk marked the perimeter. Thick posts dotted the ground, each with a metal arm pushed out to the side. From these hung the flag-mouths Malja knew from the Bluesmen. They sang in unison — little soft songs that appeared to lull the workers through their drudgery.

Lines of workers left the main building to either walk in the yard or deliver materials to one of the numerous, smaller buildings. Many workers had been maimed or injured. A few weren't human.

Overhead, fluttering along the fence, several crazed-looking people with dragonfly wings kept watch. Each wore a vest strapped with two powerful lamps that cut through the dark with blades of light. Malja thought of Nolan's sister, Audrex, and how the bastard magicians had caused her insanity. Clearly, Audrex was not the only one they had experimented with.

"These people are prisoners," Tumus said, and Malja shared her disgust.

"Not quite," Cole said. "They're followers — prisoners only to their belief in the magicians' powers."

Malja scoffed. "Like the Bluesmen were to you."

"Maybe. However, dear, I never would have had to treat my people like this. We worked hard in our fields, but we did it together for the common good of all of us."

"
They
worked. You sat upstairs where no one could bother you. And somehow I don't think Willie would have agreed with you. In fact, he most likely ..."

Malja stared at the factory compound, her mind weighing out an idea growing within. Fawbry opened his mouth, but Skvalan stopped him with a sharp gesture. Skvalan's intense focus on Malja told the others to stay quiet.

Finally, Malja grinned. She pointed to a long row of homes cutting through the compound. Each home stood at least three stories. From the damaged fronts, Malja could see that each home shared a wall with the next.

"There," she said. "We get inside and cross the factory compound in no time. They'll never see us because they're busy working or guarding the workers or checking the perimeter."

"And we're upstairs where no one can bother us," Cole said with a bitter undertone.

"Might as well make some good out of what you did."

"Little girl, all the problems with the Bluesmen and with you, that was the fault of Willie."

"Willie didn't order Fawbry's hand burnt off."

Skvalan snapped his fingers, quieting the two. Fawbry looked both embarrassed and defiant. But Malja detected a little pride, too, in the way he placed his stumped hand around Tuft's shoulder.

Malja flushed with annoyance at the entire group, including herself. She thought she should say some words to bring them back together, to encourage them, but she stayed silent. Too late for that. They were who they were.

With Viper in hand, she led the group across an open street. Crouching as she scurried, she brought them behind half of a car. The ragged edges looked as if some giant monster had torn the other half off with powerful jaws.

Malja pointed out a gouge in the brick wall of the second row home. The factory fence began only one house further in. Nothing between the half-car and the gouged wall — no cover of any kind. Without a word, Skvalan shot off, sprinted across the open area and slid into the house. Tufts followed as if playing a game of warrior — hunched low, moving fast, his hand carrying an imaginary weapon.

"Okay, okay," Tumus whispered to herself.

Malja heard the mounting anxiety, and when Tumus jumped to her feet, Malja yanked her back down. One of the crazed dragonflies flew overhead, his stark light creating day for a few seconds. He snorted and giggled as he passed by. Malja's skin prickled.

They waited a short while, once the dark had returned. Malja took her hand off Tumus and watched like a hovering parent as Tumus crossed to the house. Cole, Fawbry, and Malja followed up before the next dragonfly guard could fly by.

The smell hit Malja as she entered the house — something only a day dead. A rank odor that never got easier to inhale. The factory lights seeped in enough to see. The dainty songs seeped in, too.
Good,
thought Malja.
Hopefully that means it's loud enough to cover our noise.