Fleetwalker

1. Fear and Faith-1

Ilkyrie’s eastern pass, long since left to nature’s free rein, was a mass of twisted growth. A malignant creeper had invaded every crevice, wrapped its tendrils around every twig, and insinuated itself into the crowns of the tallest trees. From her view above the snake-like ravine, Irenya O’Neil peered into the vegetation. If she fell into those stygian depths, they would never recover her body. Chills scraped across her skin and down her spine.

She looked back at the circular towers of Ilkyrie, just visible over the forested slopes. The cold shiver set her teeth on edge. Was the journey too risky? Had she over-estimated her ability and her stamina? Barely an hour ago, Gedric had asked if she was up to the task. The cold-fish commander was perfectly willing for her to risk life and limb, as long as she brought him vital information. Elaaron was right; she did lack experience. Even if he had witnessed her fleetwalking efforts over the last few days, he would have f*******n her to go.

There aren’t enough fleetwalkers in the air. Somebody needs to go.

There aren’t enough fleetwalkers in the air. Somebody needs to goHer gaze fixed on Ilkyrie, she knew, with every bone in her body, why it was essential for her to fleetwalk to Mardak’s border. It was personal. She needed the experience, and to evaluate the threat for herself. Mikey might be snug in his own apartment, with Kael and two guards to maintain her son’s safety.

But what if something goes wrong, and I need to fleetwalk Mikey to safety? I need to be prepared for anything.

But what if something goes wrong, and I need to fleetwalk Mikey to safety? I need to be prepared for anything.Irenya glanced up at the not yet full moon, self-doubt swept away by one bald fact: If Riadan wanted to seize the MageGate system, he only had to come to Ilkyrie, for Mikey and the Portal Stone.

Thankfully, the moon’s soft radiance would be with her for several nights, and she could fleetwalk, as long as the sky stayed free of cloud. She might get to use starlight, as she had done in far northern Ishter. Time to go. She breathed deeply, called the light to her, and reached for the night sky.

Her first landmark, an exposed ridge, came to meet her as soon as she identified its starkly pale spine. Her gentle landing was perfect. Standing on the ice-scoured rocks, she fisted the air and uttered a quiet, yes! If she had needed anything to convince her that the journey was possible, a clear fleetrun over the long-neglected pass to the eastern edge of the Nyal Range was it. In front of her were grey rolling hills threaded with thin silvery ribbons, just as Kael had described them. They were watercourses, draining from the Nyal Range and running eastward.

yes‘Come daybreak,’ he had said, ‘if you see a significant river going your way then you have veered too far to the north. What you will see by noon, and if you have travelled directly eastward, is a distinctive slender peak, rising from the plains—Meia’s Needle.’

Irenya closed her eyes and let all her thoughts slip away, breathing deeply until she felt Meia’s aura of light surround her. Weightless once more, she struck out for the crest of a nearby hill. She singled out a treetop, then an angle of the trunk and a branch she could safely stand on. At the last moment, she knew it was wrong. Her speed was too fast. Her focus crumpled, and the light fled from her. Twigs snapped, jabbing her hands. Leaves raked across her face. She grabbed at the branch and failed. Her frantic scramble for anything to grip hooked her elbow over a thinner limb just below. Desperate, she reached up with her free hand and caught the branch. Relief was short-lived. A cautious exploration with her feet revealed no support from below, other than a sparse covering of leaves and twigs. Her life was dangling by her left arm bent over a limb no thicker than her wrist, and her right hand grasping the larger branch above. She attempted to pull herself up, but her training had not included pull-ups, and then there was the pack on her back. The weight of it, never a problem fleetwalking, dragged on her body, left her winded, her upper arm and shoulder stretched to extremity. She had little time to consider options. Fear coiled in her gut.

Oddly, the voice that came to her was Gedric’s. There were no words, just the sound of his battle commander’s voice: always iron-edged practicality. She knew what to do. To save herself, she would have to let go.

Sparse foliage above presented her with a partial view of the moon. She forced her left arm and shoulder to take up a little of the dragging weight. Then she began the breathing Leachim had taught her, drawing hard into cramped lungs. She focused all her attention on the visible slice of moon until she felt the light surround her. As she became one with the air, the weight lessened. Her legs responded to her command. She took two slow steps up the staircase in her mind; easing her numbed elbow free, she kept walking upward until her feet were firmly on the branch she had chosen.

The light abandoned, she carefully wedged herself into a secure place and eased the bag off her back. A fingertip inspection of her stinging face and hands revealed nothing serious, though her wrenched shoulders hurt. She took a leather bottle from the bag and sipped cool water. In a side pocket, she found the small pot of salve the cook had given her for minor injuries. She dabbed a little on various cuts, her fingers trembling.

‘Thanks, Hedda,’ she whispered, and the first tears rolled down her cheeks.

The faces of Mikey and Elaaron came to her, their features frozen in alarm. Why hadn’t she thought of them in her moment of need? Why was it Gedric’s voice she heard?

Because I didn’t need to see their fear. I needed a battle commander’s cold authority to get me out of that scrape.

Because I didn’t need to see their fear I needed a battle commander’s cold authority to get me out of that scrape.She swiped the tears away with the back of her hand and rubbed her shoulders, as much to calm the shakes as it was to ease torn sinews.

Okay, time to put tears and fears on hold. I’ve got work to do.

Okay, time to put tears and fears on hold. I’ve got work to doThe bag shouldered again, she once again called the light, breathing herself into a steady rhythm. Running high in the air, the land beneath her began to flatten and another part of her awareness took over, strong and certain, as though she could fleetwalk forever. Below, the glistening bands of silver ribbon disappeared as the next stream or small lake caught the moon’s attention and in the margins of her mind, it felt as if Meia’s finger was pointing the way.

When the moon was slipping below the horizon, she knew it was time to rest. A slower pace brought her closer to the land and, by instinct, she picked out a farmhouse and the entrance to a barn. As soon as her focus was upon it, she was there; the light dissolved as her feet touched the ground. Luckily, the barn was open and inside, she saw it was full of hay bales. On the topmost layer, she ate one of Hedda’s biscuits, wrapped her cloak around her, and settled to sleep.

* * *

A loud voice startled her awake. Standing below her makeshift bed was a short round man whose head, from that angle, seemed to sprout directly from his girth. His fists were planted firmly on his hips. The upturned face resembled a pink melon with a small heart-shaped mouth, altogether too small for him and his voice.

‘Come down, I say!’

Irenya scrambled to her feet and obeyed. She offered her palm in greeting, fortunately remembering that fleetwalking was best kept to herself; after all, she was not wearing the blue clothing of a fleetwalker.

‘Irenya irIlketh. Sorry to be a nuisance. I got a bit lost during the night, and I thought waking you would be unkind.’

His mouth formed a perfect O. ‘You will be needing a bit of tucker, then.’ His accent was faintly sing-song, some of his words embellished with a delicate grace note. His ‘tuck-er’ enchanted her, the upward slide of the note making his invitation sound like a question. ‘And where are ye heading?’

tuck-er‘Provan,’ she said. ‘Um, is there a Gifted working any boats around here?’

‘Aye. There is.’

The man opened his neat mouth again. Before he could speak, three young children emerged from the house, in various stages of dress and followed by a woman. She wore a once-white shift with a loose smock over the top. Her hair was tied back with what looked to be a simple scrap of cloth. She stopped short when she saw Irenya and made a half-hearted attempt to smooth her smock.

‘A traveller. Bit lost,’ the man explained. ‘Needs a Gifted with a boat to Provan.’

‘Oh, how good it is to have the Gifteds working again. A sore trial without them.’ She spoke with the same grace notes as the man. ‘Goddess greetings. I am Letty and this is my husband Brun, and our three littlies. I have made peach cakes and sausages for breakfast.’ The woman swiped a hand ineffectually over her smock and held it palm out to Irenya. It was warm and sticky and reminded her of Hedda.

Irenya had time to eat with them before the sun rose. She thanked the family and gathered her cloak and bag. Letty handed her a cloth tied at the corners and smelling of their breakfast.

Brun walked her beyond his gate. ‘Take this road here to Ilky Deep. The Gifted—old fella—has a small boat. Meia go with ye.’

Well out of sight of Brun’s farm, she called the light to her, happy to observe there were no significant rivers going her way.

The sun was halfway across the morning sky before she rested again, this time among trees in a terraced orchard. She ate one of Letty’s sweet peach patties and a small sausage before stretching out on the grass, her bag a rather lumpy pillow. She watched small ripening apples nod in the breeze as she dozed off.

The distant barking of a dog roused her. Five people were approaching the orchard, tramping along the margin of a ploughed field. She stood, looped her arms through the long strap of the bag, and settled its weight. The dog saw her and set up an excited racket, racing toward the terraces. Someone gave a shout and pointed to her. She was about to greet them with a wave but suddenly realised they were not friendly.

I suppose they think I’m pinching their apples. Which would have been a good idea, if she’d thought of it earlier.

I suppose they think I’m pinching their applesShe summoned the sunlight and was gone.

Meia’s Needle looked like an ancient volcano that the ravages of time and weather had slowly whittled away. Irenya ran closer to its steep green flanks. On the lower slopes, she glimpsed children playing who gave no sign of having seen her, which likely meant she was fleetwalking fast enough to be inconspicuous. Having circled the strange formation and seen nothing but farms, hamlets, a large orchard, and wooded areas, and none of it looking even remotely suspicious, she continued her eastward journey.