The gunsinger was leaning against a tree, his arms folded around himself. Though the night wasn’t cold, it was chilly. There was little wind, but a dampness hung in the air that sunk into the bone.
He tipped his hat at me as I approached, but he did not make to leave immediately. Rather, he gestured for me to come closer. When I obliged, standing just a few feet away, he whispered, “You have changed much in these last few days, Hana. And not only your fighting style and your bond with Pachi. I wanted to ask you something, though. Why does any of this business—the rangers, the Rat King—why does it concern you so?”
His eyes were not suspicious in any way; rather, they looked intrigued, as if I was some problem that his brain couldn’t figure out.
I shrugged and gave him the best answer I could think of. “I don’t know, really. It seems wrong, though, if I were to ignore everything. Madi and I are not from this world, but… it seems real to me.” I chewed my lip for a time, wondering if I’d answered his question at all.
When I looked up at him, Alysand was staring at me, his keen face lit by the silver glow of the moon.
He nodded discreetly and said, “I thought as much. So many of you travelers are here only for the joy of experience bereft of consequence. It makes for roguish behavior. I’m sure you know that, though. But you two,”—he gestured back toward where Madi slept against Tejón— “you are different than most. Though the warrior doesn’t seem to know her own motivations yet, I feel she is trying to prove something. Prove she is honorable. It is a childish goal on one hand, but on the other, it is timeless and good. Why else does the knight choose to lift his shield against the forces of darkness? It surely isn’t for the comfort of the thing.”
Alysand’s voice broke off, and he looked up at the moon. His face had grown older, somehow almost transparent, since his ordeal in the mines. It was like he had taken one step away, moving to another world, and he could never step back.
Then my ears perked up. A distant sound that was at once distinct and recognizable. Some trick of the road had projected a few hollow hoof beats. I shot Alysand a look and his face projected the suspicion I felt. He retreated behind his tree and I did the same. Then we waited.
A minute passed before the sound was audible and consistent, and after another, we saw the gray figure of a rider streaking toward us. It was coming from Benham.
I took my bow off my shoulder and nocked an arrow, but Alysand held up his hand. The rider passed us, not slowing an instant, seemingly unaware of our position.
At last, the gunsinger looked to me, his face filled with undeniable pain. “It seems we know enough about our friend Mayor Sherman Hesperine. This was his last chance.” He shook his head, stood up, and sighed. More weight seemed to push down on his already-burdened shoulders. Then he tipped his hat to me once more and departed to find whatever sleep he could.
The rest of my watch was uneventful. I spent one hour stretching and another performing slow-motion kata under the cover of the trees, but mostly, I watched the road in silence.
As the sun came up in degrees, I reveled in the beauty of Eternal Online. From bruised plum, to vivid blood, and finally the lively orange of flames, the sunrise was enough to hold me enthralled for its entirety. Then I realized what had made this one stand out. A flat and uninterrupted expanse lay beyond a few rolling hills.
The ocean, it seemed, was waiting for me.
We broke camp soon after daylight and took our breakfast on the road. Bacon was miraculous and tasted nearly as good as it had when freshly cooked. We finished that first and saved some of the biscuits for a later meal. Alysand planned on making it all the way to Gilsby today, but an afternoon snack would no doubt be called for.
Pachi and Tejón finished their venison rations, and we discovered a stream a mile or so ahead that we all made use of to quench our thirst.
We fell into a trot again, not fast enough for any real excitement, but at least double to speed of traveling by foot.
The trip was looking to be quite boring, and as I was slapping the dust from my clothes and gear during a second break, Alysand spoke for the first time that day.
“Sherman Hesperine is a man I’ve known most of my life,” Alysand said quietly, having just finished combing his hair and beard with cold water. How he looked so fresh was beyond me. “We are from the same place. A small town called Haddar, just a few days’ ride from the capital.”
I glanced at Madi, who was soaking her feet in the stream, but she just shrugged. I walked over and stood there to hear the man better.
“He was just a boy when I was chosen by Corbrae,” Alysand went on. “A bull had rampaged through town, trampled a few people, and it was only picking up steam. I took the spear that hung over the general store, just an ornament really, made with brass instead of steel. Yet somehow, I ran the blade through into the beast’s chest and ended it before matters got worse. The next day, Corbrae showed up with these pistols, and I left with him.
“We headed into the hills. Even then,
