Companion by Luke Matthews

Author:Luke Matthews [Matthews, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Luke Matthews
Published: 2021-02-16T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

* * *

Even in a new, younger body, the incessant drizzle and deep chill of the Tag End air wracked Mane with bone-deep aches and wrought misery among the caravan. A few hours after the rain started a fog rolled in, obscuring much of the road and all visibility into the trees, so thick the front of the caravan couldn’t see the back. Still, the worst incident they’d encountered so far was a switch driver slipping from the tongue of his wagon and breaking an arm, and if that and rain were the worst of it, Mane would count them all lucky.

The caravan’s pace slowed on the curvy forest road, so Mane decided to walk for the first part of his shift. The seeping wet soaked through his clothing before he realized what a terrible decision walking had been. He gathered khet and wrapped himself in protecting warmth before hopping up onto the open tailgate of the wagon and draping himself in a canvas tarpaulin to ward off any further damp. The morning drudged on in miserable silence, the fog muting all sound but the intermittent drip of rainwater from leaves, no one interested in conversation. Cold aggravated the soreness of two and a half days of constant motion. Even so, Mane couldn’t help but take little pleasures even in the pain. Activity like this, combined with this weather and exposure level would’ve rendered the old Mane nearly immobile.

In the midst of stretching the soreness out of his knees, Mane’s peripheral vision caught a rider approaching the head of the caravan; one of their own scouts. She pulled up alongside the lead wagon and Julia leaned out to receive her report. Mane couldn’t hear what they said, but their gestures and tone gave the distinct impression of something very wrong. Julia disappeared into the covered wagon and seconds later Maleck emerged and called the all halt—the one thing Mane thought was not supposed to happen on this trip.

“Defensive positions!” Garek called from up ahead. A flurry of activity surrounded the caravan.

Finn poked her head around the end of the wagon. “What is it?” she asked.

“Don’t know yet,” Mane said. He reached in and shook Bert awake. The big man moved with surprising alacrity, hopping out of the wagon and retrieving his gear.

Mane extended his senses, hoping for advanced warning of an ambush like he’d felt back in the plains. The thick undergrowth and fog reduced traditional visibility to nil. Mane held his staff at the ready and gathered khet.

Adrenaline drove his heart to pounding, the blood pulsing through his ears and attacking his concentration. His khet-sense flared in a cacophony of sensations, pinpointing nothing. Being unable to parse his surroundings in such a khet-rich environment felt counterintuitive, yet the abundance seemed to drown his senses rather than attenuate them. With a year to practice this one ability he might be more adept, but as it stood, he might as well have been a new apprentice.

Garek dropped down from his wagon directly to Mane’s right, closer to the front of the caravan.

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