The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (18 page)

He
shook his head and stepped back into the room.

It
was a small room, one of the four that had been so ceremoniously ‘selected’ for
them by the Innkeep and his meager staff. It was adequate, cozy even, with dark
mahogany walls and floor of the same. But it, like every other corner in this
two-level building, was in desperate need of a mop and a broom, and the bed
linens spoke volumes to years of satisfied customers. Just to think of it sent
shudders up Kirin’s spine.

None
of this seemed to matter to Kerris, however. He was sprawled facedown on one of
the thick mattresses,, shirtless and bootless and apparently tumbling headlong
into dreams. The Alchemist had given him yet another of the strange ‘powdery
things’ and its effect had been almost immediate. Kirin crossed the floor to
ensure that his brother was indeed still breathing and to check on the
conditions of his wounds. He shook his head. It seemed as though the wounds
were closing up already and he wondered if something more than competent
stitchery was involved.

He walked to the window and threw
open the smoky glass pane.

The
moon was rising over the Great Mountains.

It
glistened off the snow, giving the night a surreal midday glow. There were
countless stars in the clear sky, including the newest and it reminded him of
winter. Silver peaks towered all around them, and in his mind’s eye, he could
see
Pol’Lhasa,
nestled deep within the Mother’s Arms. He prayed they
were sleeping well.

More
especially, that
she
was sleeping well.

But
he also knew that she would be concerned that they had not arrived as promised.
She was not one to tend to her own comfort when those under her care were in
need.

No,
she would not be sleeping well at all.

And
for that simple fact, neither would he.

***

“I can’t sleep.”

Sherah al Shiva turned to her
companion.

“You are in pain?”

“Oh, no, not really. Not ‘pain’,
really, just... sore. Stiff. You know...”

Fallon Waterford rolled her head
forward, wrapping her hands behind her neck and stretching the muscles along
her shoulders and back. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed and her elbows
and knees stuck up all over.

“I don’t often get swept up in
avalanches and go flying off cliffs and have to climb up handsome young lions
everyday, you know. In fact, I think the closest I’ve ever come to that kind of
thing was the time I built a catapult... Yeah, that was close...”

“A
cat-a-pult?”

“Yeah,
I read about one once in a very old book. It’s kind of a ground-based ‘sling
for rocks.’ Apparently the Ancestors used to ‘pult’ cats. Anyway, I tried it
out, and it worked really well but when I tried to pult someone, he sailed up
and away and into the sky and never came back. Which was a shame, since he was
my very first suitor and all. My only suitor actually. I never really figured
out why, considering I have such pretty markings.”

Sherah
smiled. “You are very amusing.”

“That’s
not what my father said.”

“I
can help you with your neck.”

Fallon
glanced up from her rather awkward position on the bed.

“You can?”

The
Alchemist pulled her long legs from underneath her and rose from the mattress.
She crossed the room to where several of her bags lay, some neatly packed, others
in total disarray. When she straightened up, in her hands was a small black
bundle. She began to unroll a strip of leather.

Fallon watched as she folded the
leather back on itself to reveal a long row of needles, shiny and sharp. Sherah
held several up to the candlelight.

Um,
Sherah? My, my neck is feeling much better, really...”

“Oh no,” purred the cheetah, and
she crossed the floor towards her. “I don’t think so...”

***

“I don’t think so.”

Ursa and Sireth studied the bed.

“Not
to worry, Major. I am accustomed to sleeping on the floor. You may have the
bed.”

Pale
blue eyes flashed at him. “You are old
. I
will sleep on the floor.”

“Thank
you for the sentiment,” he replied. “But you are of a Pure Race, delicate of
limb and fragile of form. I would hate to see you bruise your pelt.”

She
snatched a dagger from her hip and lunged.

Instinctively,
he closed his eyes, wincing at the sound of steel tearing cloth. After a brief
moment, he opened his eyes again to find himself in one piece.

The
mattress, on the other hand, was not so fortunate.

With
a nasty smirk, she slid the dagger back into its sheath.

“Did you think I was going to hurt
you, Seer? That would be disobeying orders, wouldn’t it?”

“I
daresay.”

Stiffly,
she stepped up onto the hard board of the bed and, placing one bootheel on the
far half of the mattress, kicked it off the bed.

“Your side.”

She pivoted, and did the same,
until the two halves lay on opposite sides of the frame.

“My side.”

Sireth
watched her step down onto ‘her side’, curling her white-clad legs underneath
her. She began the process of removing all the swords, knives and shir’khins
strapped all over her body, her upper arms, her thighs, her back, deep within
her boots. Each was then viciously slammed, point down, along the wooden frame,
until she had formed a fence of silver steel, further heightening the
separation between them.

She
rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and, with a toss of her marbled hair,
flipped onto her belly, back arched, legs taut, rising onto the points of her
toes. She began to push herself up and down on one hand. He found himself
impressed with the well-defined musculature of her arms.

He
cleared his throat once again and moved to ‘his side’ of the bed. He turned his
back to her and began to loosen his sash.

“What
are you doing?”

“Hmm?”

She
peered at him through a curtain of hair. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I
was going to remove my robe.”

“Why?
Why?!
”

“Well,
it seems you took this room’s only blanket along with ‘your side’ of the bed. I
shall use my outer robe as a blanket for myself.”

She
did not respond, but continued to stare at him, eyes sharp, breathing shallow.
If he didn’t know better, he would have thought her afraid.

He tugged at a brown leather
sleeve, showed the linen and a flash of orange underneath.

“There are many layers.”

“Good,”
Ursa snapped quickly. “It will get cold here in the night.”

And in a swift motion, she flipped
over onto her side, back to him, beyond the fence of silver daggers.

Sireth
lowered himself onto the mattress, deciding that for the time being, it might
be safer to leave his robes on. With furrowed brow, he watched her for a while
longer, before shaking his head and reaching for the candle.

“Good
night, Major.”

“If
you snore, I will kill you.”

He
blew out the flame.

***

The Inn was as dark and quiet as a
panther. The guard on duty stood at complete attention, his spotted ears
swiveling at any and all sounds, but there were few this night, save for the
crackling of the great hearth that warmed the place. He could hear the Captain,
moving about in his room, unsettled and sleepless as he wrestled with the
losses of the day. He could hear the brother, letting out the occasional moan
of pain as the Alchemist’s strange medicines began to wear thin.

From
the middle room, he could hear voices, as the Scholar rambled long into the
night. Her rapid-fire conversations were punctuated by whines and whimpers as
if she were being pricked by many sharp points. He could hear the Alchemist
herself, humming in strange, exotic keys.

From
the far room, he could hear nothing at all and wondered if the Major hadn’t
killed her charge sometime during the night. He would not have been surprised.
She terrified him.

He
yawned, stretched his arms over his head, flexing his sharp, black claws. Not
long to go now, he thought and soon, he would be relieved, sent to slumber in a
room down the hall. He was looking forward to it.

It
was the middle of the Second Watch.

***

She opened her eyes.

She did not know how long she had
lain there awake, for the room was clothed in blackness. Pale moonlight shone
in from the cold, night sky, but clouds had covered the stars, dimming their
usual brightness.

She
could hear breathing.

Rapid,
shallow breathing, like the sound of a cornered enemy, seeing its death in her
face. It was a sound she knew well.

There
was a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and she rolled to her feet,
crouched and poised to spring. Her pupils grew wide and she could see shadows
now, and moonlight glinting off the furniture. A figure was pressed into the
far wall, back flattened against the oily wood. It was a tall figure, the mane
long and dark, and she knew at once it was the Seer.

She
rose to her feet.

“What?”

He
did not look at her, did not seem even to have heard, his gaze fixed on the
window, with its dirty, smoked glass. She scowled and moved around the bed
towards him.

“What is it? Answer me.”

“Animals...”

“What?
What animals?”

“Everywhere... animals...”

“Your
voice—“

The
last thing she remembered was the smell of leather as the blow sent her
backwards into a much deeper blackness.

***

Kirin opened his eyes.

He did not know how long he had
lain there awake, for the room was clothed in blackness. Something was wrong,
he knew it instinctively and rather than let it eat away at him, he rolled off
the mattress and out of bed.

He
checked once on his brother, still deep in sleep but moving as if in dreams. He
pulled on his boots, gathered his long hair into a queue at the back of his
neck and crossed the room to the door.

The
guard was waiting at the door.

“Sir,”
was all he said.

“Where?”

“The
Major’s room, sir. I—”

The
guard’s explanation was interrupted by the sudden shattering of glass. Kirin
bolted down the corridor, the leopard on his heels and together they threw open
the door to the Major’s room. A gust of cold wind greeted them. Kirin grabbed a
torch from beside the doorframe and shone it into the shadows.

“Major?”

There
was a groan from beside the bed, and without hesitation, the Captain rushed
toward it. Ursa Laenskaya lay in a crumpled pile on the floor, a smear of blood
at her mouth. He took her elbow and helped her to her feet.

“He
hit me,” she murmured softly, spitting a mouthful of blood. With greater force,
she snarled.

“He hit me. I’ll
kill
him.”

Kirin
released her. He stepped to the window, leaning out as far as he could, feeling
the broken glass crunch under his palm. Clouds obscured the moon and earlier,
the midday sun had melted all the snow around the Inn. Now, there was no sign
of the Seer, save a skid of freshly churned earth where his feet had landed.

When he turned ‘round, the room was
full of people.

“You,
you and you,” he jabbed a finger at the three leopards. “Alert the guard in the
stables. Find Sireth benAramis now and return him to the Inn.”

“Sir,”
they echoed as one, and left the room.

Kirin swung around to face the
others, the Scholar and Alchemist, both of whom had obviously been awakened by
the crash.

“I thank you for your concern, but
we shall handle this.
Sidala
, if you
could tend to my brother. I believe his pain is returning.”

“Of
course,
sidi.”

She slunk from the room.

“Are
you sure I can’t help, sir?” asked the Scholar. “I was pretty good at tracking
bukbuks back home.”

Kirin
frowned, reaching out a hand to remove a tiny needle sticking out of her
forehead. He handed it to her.

“Thank
you,
sidala,
but I’m quite certain
the Queen’s guard can locate one man, this quickly after he has gone missing.”

“Oh,
yes, yes I’m quite certain they can too, sir. I didn’t mean to say, that is to
say—”

“Thank
you,
sidala.
That will be all.”

He tried to move around her, but
she stepped into his path.

“Um, I’m really sorry, sir, but,
um...”

He
glared at her. She swallowed, wringing her hands, but pressed on.

“Captain, your men are probably
really good at tracking down criminals and soldiers and monsters and things
like that, but, none of them are tigers, sir. They can’t think like a tiger. I
can. “

“Your
point,
sidala?”

“Well,
sir, it
is
the middle of the Second Watch, isn’t it?”

Suddenly,
her point grew crystal clear. Kirin swore under his breath.

“Of course. Go. And
sidala,
be careful.”

She
smiled and disappeared out the door.

Kirin
swore again, this time not under his breath and he rubbed his throbbing
forehead. He began to pace.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t
believe
it!” With a snarl, he stamped the mahogany planks of the floor. “It completely
escaped me! I didn’t even think it might happen again!”

The
Major stepped in beside him. “I didn’t think of it either, sir.”

“It
is not your job to think of it, Major. It’s mine.”

“We
will find him, sir.”

“No, Major. She will.”

***