Hagan bent over the fire pit. His pan nestled in the embers, giving off an aroma of sizzling meat. Beef this time. Caim pushed away his blanket and took stock of his condition. His leg was stiff, but it felt better than the day before. His face didn’t hurt as much either. When he probed the area around his ear, flakes of dried blood came away on his fingers. The gouges in his back weren’t as deep as he’d feared. Good thing, or I’d be crippled.
When he reached over to put on his boots, a jolt ran up his right forearm. Pulling up his sleeve, he peeled back the bandage. The flesh underneath was torn like his leg wound and sore to the touch. He pulled off his shirt and started ripping it into strips.
When he had rewrapped his arm and donned a fresh shirt from his pack, Caim scooted up to the fire. The morning was bitter cold. Holding out his hands to the warmth, a memory came to him of another bitter winter, of him and Kas sitting across the table in their ramshackle cabin, shivering over plates of beans and mutton while a blizzard wailed outside. He could see the old soldier’s grim smile as he joked about people someday finding their frozen bodies.
Hagan held out a steaming cup. “ Cha? Not strong enough by a fair measure, but it’ll warm you up.”
As Caim took the cup, Kit brushed against him.
“I already checked for poison,” she said. “But he’s a good man. You can trust him.”
Caim almost choked on the hot, bitter liquid. If this was weak, he didn’t want to know this man’s idea of a proper cha. Still, it was hot, so he drank until the cup was empty, whereupon Hagan filled it with browned meat from the pan. They ate in silence. More snow had fallen in the night. It covered their tracks and made everything look new and clean, as if he had dreamt the apparition that attacked him. He would have liked to ask Kit about it, but while Hagan looked rather old, he didn’t seem hard of hearing.
They washed out their cups in the snow and packed up. Grabbing his gear, Caim walked out from under the tree with only a slight hobble. Hagan didn’t wait for him, but started off toward whatever landmarks he used to guide his path. Caim was content to trail behind. It wasn’t like he was going to lose the old man out here in the wilderness. While he walked, Kit kept pace with his strides.
“Where have you been?” he asked her in a low whisper.
“Right here. I was watching you sleep.”
“I mean last night.”
“Why? Did something happen? Did the old guy try to cut your throat in the night?”
“Of course n-I thought you said I could trust him.”
Her laughter rang like a chorus of bells. “I’m just teasing. He’s a good egg.”
“Good egg, eh? Well, to answer your question, yes, something did happen last night.” He told her about the strange apparition and how it vanished into the night.
“That’s odd,” she said. When he gave her a strained look, she asked, “What?”
“Well, for a start you could tell me what it might have been.”
“Do I look like a ghoul hunter?”
Caim sighed and shifted the bundles on his shoulder to a new position. “Don’t get pissy. I just asked a question. It’s just that you’re… you know…”
“What? Fae?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
Hagan turned his head to the side as if he’d heard something, and Caim dropped his voice ever lower. “I figure you would know more about this stuff than me.”
“Not without being there to see it myself, or getting a better description than what you’ve told me so far.”
“I didn’t get a good look at it. The darkness seemed to, I don’t know, gather around the thing.”
“Well, that’s interesting, but what I was going to say…” She paused until he nodded for her to proceed. “I was going to say maybe I don’t know any more than you about such things.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say it sounds like something from the Shadow.”
“Our guide says people disappear a lot out here.”
“So you’ll be careful?”
“That’s why I keep you around.”
She floated closer and put her arms around his neck. “I thought it was because you couldn’t resist me.”
“Go see where we’re going.”
Her teeth snapped at the end of his nose. “Fine. Be that way.”
Then she was gone. The sky had lost some of its color and now glimmered with an icy grayness. The breeze was slight, but with the exertion of hiking he didn’t mind the chill. In all, Caim felt like he was finally heading in the right direction. But within a candlemark, he started to slow again and pulled down his hood over his eyes. They kept traveling cross-country and stopped at midday to share a cold meal of bread and cheese provided by Hagan.
As the afternoon waned, Caim began to wonder where they would make camp. Hagan surprised him with an invitation.
“My home is close by,” he said. “Just past the next stand. You’re welcome to stay for the night.”
Tempted by the idea of sleeping under a roof, Caim assented, and Hagan adjusted their path a couple points westward. As the sky darkened, a ridge appeared before them. Denuded trees sprouted from its snowy slopes. At the base of the hill stood a small cottage. Tufts of grass showed through the snow covering the low roof. Squares holes covered by hide panes served for windows.
Hagan pushed open the solid plank door and stood aside for Caim to enter. The inside of the cottage was a single open room. It reminded him of Kas’s cabin. Three small beds sat against the walls. A fire burned in a round hearth in the center of the floor, surrounded by a bench of fieldstone. The place smelled of smoke and old leather. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, hung with herbs. A young woman turned toward the door as they entered. The first thing Caim noticed was the way the firelight glimmered in her amber-brown eyes. She was quite pretty, with a pert nose, and copper-hued braids draped down her shoulders.
“Daughter, we have a guest.” Hagan stomped his boots to shake off the snow. “Caim, this is Liana. Seat yourself by the fire and take the chill off.”
Caim set down his burdens and pulled a chair over to the hearth. Liana grimaced as she maneuvered around her father to take a stack of plates down from a shelf and set them around the homemade table. Caim watched the girl out of the corner of his eye. He doubted she’d seen her twentieth summer yet. Twice, he caught her glancing in his direction. He smiled after the second time, and she pulled her father aside. Snippets of their conversation reached him.
“… is he?”
“Mind your… guest…”
“… don’t even know…”
“… the proper respect.”
Liana brought over a bowl of warm water and a cake of hard soap so they could wash. Caim was embarrassed when his hands turned the water brown, but Hagan didn’t appear to notice as he splashed his face and dried off with a cloth. Hagan dragged the only other chair up to the table and sat down. Caim got up to offer Liana his seat, but she swept by without looking at him and pulled out a three-legged stool for herself.
The meal was a simple affair, round loaves of bread hot from the hearth-oven, ash-roasted potatoes in the skin, and strips of chewy meat that were probably rabbit. Hagan worked his way across his plate like a lumberjack felling trees. Liana pushed around her food, but little made it into her mouth. Caim devoured everything they put in front of him. After a time, he had to stop or risk splitting his insides. It was with a satisfied sigh that he sat back in the chair.
A row of clay figurines stood on a shelf above Hagan’s head. Caim recognized the major deities of the north- Nogh, Saronna, Sirga, and Father Ell. All outlawed since the coming of the Church. Beside the pagan icons hung a sunburst medallion on a nail, which struck Caim as strange. Stories of the crusade that had brought the True Faith to Eregoth were legendary for their carnage and viciousness on both sides. Yet both faiths were represented here, side by side under the same roof. Caim would have liked to know the reason behind it, but he wasn’t curious enough to offend his hosts by asking.
Hagan pulled out his pipe and a pouch. “So, your father was a soldier.”
Caim plucked at the whiskers on his chin. Why keep lying? Who was he trying to protect? The air in the hut
