Bocrest stepped back, and his eyes widened. “You don’t know?”
She shook her head.
“ Cruel ancestors, what a waste. He gave up everything, and your people don’t even know.”
“ What?” She reached for his arm. “Please, tell me.”
Bocrest scoffed and turned away. He grabbed the rifle and knife, making sure not to leave her any weapons. “Self-absorbed scientists,” he muttered on his way out.
Tikaya dropped her arm. She thought back to the first conversation she had with Rias, when he asked if her president was still alive. Was that what Bocrest referred to? Had Rias done something for her people during the war, something that had turned the Turgonians against him? If that was the case, why hadn’t he told her right away? If he had done a good deed for Kyatt, he might be allowed to come live on her island, and maybe he’d be someone her family could like, and…
She groaned and rubbed her face. When had he stopped being the enemy soldier and turned into someone she wanted to bring home to meet her parents?
Weariness plagued Tikaya’s limbs as she marched after the squad of marines, her arm in the sling, her crampons replaced with snowshoes. The new footwear was almost as awkward to walk in as swim fins, and she struggled to keep up-and upright. There had been no rest after the funeral pyre. They traveled east, in the shadows of jagged white mountains that dominated the southern horizon. To the north, the flat icy tundra stretched until it blended into the pale blue sky.
Forty men remained, with fifteen dead back in Wolfhump, and many carried double loads. Dogs, too, had been lost and the teams pulling the sleds slouched along, as tired as she. A sergeant marched alongside the squad, singing a cadence that condoned plundering farm goods and stealing daughters from conquered nations. Or maybe it was stealing farm goods and plundering daughters. Tikaya tried to ignore the words, though she found her steps matching the encouraging refrains of left, right, left.
For the fortieth or fiftieth time, she glanced behind. Wrists shackled again, Rias walked with a small team tasked with carrying the boxes of blasting sticks. A precautionary couple dozen meter gap lay between them and the main group, though, oddly, the captain walked at his side. She did not know what they spoke of, though his presence served as a deterrent to keep her from strolling back to walk with Rias. She had not seen Agarik since the day before, but his injuries must not be too severe, for he was ahead with the scouting team. Separate from the marines, separate from her two allies, she felt the loneliness and oppressive cold of the tundra. She was tempted to go back to walk with Rias even if it meant enduring the captain’s sarcasm.
A dead arctic jaeger alongside the trail diverted her thoughts. The large bird’s white-tipped wings were broken, its head smashed in, but no predators had sampled its flesh. Had it simply fallen from the sky? Two sets of snowshoe prints around it meant the scouts had stopped to look.
Long years had passed since her biology classes, so she left it without further examination, but she turned her attention to her surroundings as she continued on. Over the next few miles, she spotted other downed birds, all undisturbed by predators. An uneasy feeling shrouded her, and she wondered what would await them at the fort. More dead men? Another device?
“ Prisoner Five, come back here!” Bocrest shouted.
Rias had set down his box of blasting sticks, and he churned across the tundra. Bocrest plowed after him, rifle in hand.
“ Sir?” one of the marines in front of Tikaya called. “Do you need help?”
Bocrest waved, and the back two men stamped out of formation, flinging snow as they raced into the drifts with high-kneed steps. Tikaya veered after them, afraid they would think Rias was trying to escape and take violent measures-as if Rias would be dumb enough to run away with everyone watching. Unfortunately, her slog through the unbroken snow was less effective than theirs. Even with the snowshoes, she sank deep with each step, and she tripped twice before reaching the gathering.
Rias stopped, knelt, and picked up something. Bocrest and the others scrambled over, and Tikaya floundered up in time to hear the red-faced, scowling Bocrest speak.
“ What are you doing, Five? Are you trying to get yourself shot? Prisoners don’t get to take unannounced side trips.”
Rias lifted his goggles to peer at his find.
“ What is it?” Tikaya asked.
She attempted to slip past the other marines to join him, but one of them took a step at the same time and landed on the edge of her snowshoe. She sprawled, face heading toward the powder. Rias lunged, caught her, and even managed to keep from jarring her shoulder.
“ Slagging librarians,” Bocrest grumbled.
Face red from more than the cold, Tikaya got her snowshoes beneath her. “Thank you. It seems I’m always tumbling into your arms.” She sighed, appreciative but a little envious too. Neither shackles nor snowshoes made him ungainly.
“ I don’t mind,” Rias said. “Makes me feel useful.”
Bocrest snorted. “Any excuse to grab a tit.”
The two marines sniggered, and Tikaya stepped out of Rias’s arms, her cheeks warm. Rias merely shook his head at Bocrest, like a father disappointed in a wayward child.
Bocrest scowled. “What did you find, Five?”
Rias held an empty, one-inch cube of glass, or what appeared to be glass, on the palm of his gloved hand. One corner was broken, though the evenness of the cut suggested the hole planned rather than accidental. He flexed his fingers upon the cube. Though the thin sides appeared fragile, they did not bend or crack under pressure.
“ It glinted in the sun and caught my eye,” Rias said.
“ It looks like someone’s trash,” Bocrest said.
A dark shape loped across the tundra, and the two marines lifted rifles. A black wolf, so gaunt its ribs showed even at a distance. After her encounter with the berserk animals in town, Tikaya hoped the men shot it quickly, before it could attack.
“ Hold,” Bocrest said. “Why’s it so scrawny when there are dead birds everywhere?”
She glanced at him, surprised by the perspicacious comment. He was right, though. It was odd. And this wolf, unlike the ones in town, gave no indication of aggressive behavior. Indeed, it did not seem concerned about the humans at all.
“ It is the end of winter, sir,” a marine said. “Maybe it was a rough one for the animals.”
“ That wouldn’t explain why it’s not eating those free meals,” Bocrest said.
The wolf loped parallel to the squad, then paused at the corpse of a jaeger. It sniffed and pawed at the bird, and Tikaya expect it to take a chomp. Instead it lifted its muzzle and howled. The oscillating mournful sound made her shiver. Another wolf answered from the foothills, its howl just as forlorn.
“ He seems to find the fowl unpalatable,” Rias mused.
He turned his attention back to the cube, lifting it so the sun shone through the glass. Tikaya sucked in a startled breath. A familiar symbol etched one side.
She took it from Rias. “I recognize that. “It’s one of the symbols repeated often in the rubbings the captain gave me.” She nodded toward Bocrest. “Know anything?”
“ Shit,” he said.
“ Very elucidating, thank you,” Tikaya said.
“ Where’d those runes come from, Bocrest?” Rias asked in a tone of command.
“ That’s top secret.”
“ If you want Tikaya to translate this for you, she needs to know everything about the symbols.”
Bocrest ground his jaw. Tikaya had made that argument before, and the captain had ignored it, but he waved the marines to go back to the squad. When he, Rias, and Tikaya were alone, he spoke.
“ Last month, a black box covered with those runes was delivered to the research department of the biggest university in the capital. No name, no identification. They should have buried it somewhere and forgotten about it, but scientists being scientists…they fiddled with it, let out some kind of airborne poison. It killed everybody on campus. It was late in the evening, so not as bad as it could have been, but hundreds still died.”
