Rakon cleared his throat. 'I was looking for something that would help us get through the rest of our journey safely.'
'And? Did you find it?'
Rakon gathered up the glass shards. 'We'll soon see. Get me my bag, Nix.'
Nix hocked, spit, and chuckled. 'I'm not your fakkin' eunuch. Get it yourself. Egil almost died because of you. Him and me are here only because of your compulsion. You and your sisters could all die tomorrow and I'd mourn you not at all. Don't ever forget how it is with us.'
Rakon stared at him, a faint smile on his lips. 'I don't forget anything.'
'Good.'
Nix turned to walk away and found himself staring into the enormous chest of the eunuch. The man had walked up behind him as silently as a ghost.
'Speaking of my eunuch,' Rakon said.
Nix stared into the face of the bald mound of flesh and sweat. 'You're in my way, oaf.'
The eunuch just smiled his empty smile and stood his ground. He stank like something two days dead.
'You hear me?'
'Let him pass,' Rakon said. 'And fetch me my bag from the carriage.'
The eunuch stalked off, not so silent this time, and Nix walked back to the fire and filled his coffee cup. Egil soon awoke, sat up, and rubbed the back of his neck.
'What happened?' the priest asked, and looked at his forearm, the bite already healed to a healthy pink. 'The bite?'
Nix glanced off in the direction of the ruins, to where he'd placed the sacrificed Vwynn's body. 'The sorcerer healed you.'
'The sorcerer? How?'
'Sorcery,' Nix said. 'How else? Coffee?'
'Yeah,' Egil said. He looked to Rakon. 'I dislike owing that one a favor.'
'We owe him nothing. Not a damned thing.' Nix handed Egil a cup of coffee. 'And listen, no killing yourself without my permission henceforth, yeah?'
'I wasn't killing myself,' Egil said, and winced at the bitter taste of the coffee. 'But you only had one stone. I knew I could hold off poison longer than Derg. And if I did die, well, I've had many good moments.'
'I'm interested in having a few more. Well enough?'
Egil inclined his head. 'Well enough.'
While the rest ate and broke camp, Rakon retreated off by himself and engaged in some ritual involving the shards he'd taken from the sea of glass. Nix didn't bother watching him. Of late, he'd had quite enough of sorcery.
'Good to see you up,' Egil said to Derg, as the young guard helped break camp.
'And you,' Derg said with a grin.
When Rakon completed his ritual and returned to the campsite, he held a leather bag. Powder dusted his hands.
'We must move on. Minnear will be full in two days. We have to reach the tomb of Abn Thuset before that.'
'Pardon, my lord,' Jyme said, 'but you didn't see how many of those things are out there. We saw them last night. There are thousands of them.'
'They won't trouble us,' Rakon said.
'And how's that?' asked Egil.
'The Vwynn fear this place. They smell the magic.'
'Which is why they haven't attacked us,' Nix said, nodding. 'So?'
'So this,' Rakon said, holding up the leather bag he held. 'This is dust made from the glass of this place. To the Vwynn, it will have the same magical stink as this location.'
'You're going to cover us in dust?' Baras asked.
'I trust my armor more than magical dust,' said Jyme.
'You'll have to trust both,' Rakon said. 'We leave within the hour.'
'And if it rains?' Egil asked, eyeing the slate that roofed the sky.
'Let's hope it doesn't,' Rakon answered. 'Maybe you could pray about it, priest.'
Egil ignored Rakon's insulting tone. 'I think I will.'
'Divide up the supplies amongst the men, Baras,' Rakon said. 'We leave the carriage here. We'll be leaving the road to make straight for Afirion.'
'Yes, my lord,' Baras said.
After they'd loaded up, Rakon dusted all of them in the magical powder, even the horses. The dust felt slick on the skin, like talc, and it proved resistant to removal. Nix supposed that was a good thing.
They set off, pale ghosts trekking through a dead land. Rakon rode a horse with Rusilla. The eunuch rode with Merelda. The rest of them walked.
They emerged from the ring of ruins with blades and crossbows ready, but the Vwynn did not attack. Nix saw movement in the shadows of the ruins, reptilian eyes glaring out at them from the dark crannies and coves.
'Night will tell the tale,' Jyme said nervously.
Throughout the day the Vwynn trailed them, circled at a distance, dozens of them, maybe hundreds, always hugging the shadows. Nix felt the creatures' eyes on him, an itch between his shoulder blades.
The Vwynn called to each other from time to time: growls, howls, clicking, grunts. Nix feared they were arranging an ambush, but the Vwynn did nothing but follow and watch as the group moved through the ruined land, left the road behind, and struck out due east across the forlorn terrain of the Wastes.
At nightfall, Rakon dusted everyone once more. They passed the night without an attack, troubled only by the guttural sounds that carried to them from time to time out of the darkness. Minnear rose, huge in the sky, nearly full, and in that baleful moonlight the Vwynn three times prowled sidelong up to the edge of the camp, their thin forms all scales, muscle, sinew and claws. But they ventured no closer and seemed more puzzled than aggressive.
One by one the men fell asleep. When Nix fell off, dreams came.
He was not standing in the long hallway lined with doors. Instead, he was in a small bedroom behind one of the doors. The room smelled of unwashed bodies and fear. He was sweating, his heart racing. He lay flat on his back in the bed, his hands manacled to the bedpost.
A sense of dread settled on him, sank into his bones. He was nude, terrified, vulnerable. Something awful was about to happen, something unspeakable.
He heard a scuffling from the hall outside the door, the thump of a heavy tread on the floorboards. A shadow darkened the slit of light leaking between the door and the floor.
He screamed, his voice high-pitched, feminine, an echo of the screams he'd heard in the earlier dreams. He struggled against the chains, pulled against them until they cut into his wrists and stained the sheets with his blood.
The handle on the door turned.
He couldn't breathe! He couldn't breathe!
The door opened and a huge form filled the doorway, blotting out the light.
He closed his eyes, screamed and screamed.
He awoke to Egil shaking him. Dawn lightened the sky. Baras, Jyme, Derg, and the other guardsmen were already nearly done breaking camp.
'Nix,' the priest said, still shaking him.
'I'm awake,' Nix said.
His head felt as if it were filled with cloth. His eyes ached. He'd been crying in his sleep, maybe.
'Gods, you were out,' Egil said. 'And you look like shite.'
'Feel it.' He rubbed his head. His eyes went to the horses, where Rakon and the eunuch were seating Rusilla and Merelda. Egil's bucket head followed his gaze.
'We'll be clear of this soon,' the priest said, and helped Nix sit up.
'Maybe.' Nix touched his nose and his finger came away with a smear of blood.
