Errant, p.6
Errant, page 6
“Are you really that good?” Mort asked.
“I am.” Aspen shifted to lean against the rickety chest. She didn't need a hand around his throat anymore. She had him on her side now. “What I’m going to do is return to your farm and round up your neighbors and whatever weapons they have. Four days from now, when Cooperation and his lackeys arrive, we’ll take them on.”
“We?” Mort asked.
“Of course. You’re bringing them to me. They think you’re their man, but I know you’re mine.” It was a lie worthy of Charm. Mort ate it up. Mort would probably run to Cooperation before today was over, which meant a delay was in order. She needed him to tell Cooperation where to find her, but not before she’d set the scene.
“How about I order you a beer to celebrate our new partnership?”
“Yes, good,” Mort said eagerly.
On her way to retrieve the drinks, Aspen stopped to take something out of her saddlebags. She’d paid a lot at an Earth magician’s shop for this sleeping powder, so much that she almost regretted stirring the odorless, iridescent white dust into The Hearth Fire’s sour swill. But needs must.
By the time she’d finished her beer, Mort was slumped sideways, fast asleep.
5
Mouse’s hooves tapped a regular rhythm on the main road out of Ilgate. They made a sharper sound on stone than their pleasing thud on packed dirt, but still Aspen enjoyed it. They were headed somewhere with a purpose.
Yes, the affair was messy, and she’d probably get hurt, and she’d dragged Charm into the whole thing, but she knew what she had to do. She couldn’t allow her former colleagues to wreak havoc in the Harstead Hills.
Mouse stilled before Aspen heard the scream.
“Please, no! It’s all I have, and I have a family to feed. You aren’t supposed to be here until next week.”
Aspen needed to ride to Mort’s farm, learn the terrain, and set her traps. She didn’t have time for anything else. But there was someone in trouble nearby. Her choice was already made.
Mouse diverted from the main road toward the nearest alley, tucked between a cheese shop and a bookbinder. Aspen knew better than to argue with her horse.
At the mouth of the alley was a pale-skinned person rigid with fear. They were most likely a woman, given they’d chosen to dress in the voluminous skirts favored in Falland. Hidden amongst the folds was a young child. Twin pairs of wide eyes took in Aspen on her horse. They must have spotted her weapons because they shuffled aside to let her pass into the alley.
Aspen dismounted. About a third of the way down the alley, near the side exit for the cheese shop, was Cooperation. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, flaunting his Scale tattoo.
In front of him, the apron-clad owner of the cheese shop trembled.
“I’ve had a bad day,” Cooperation told the shopkeeper. “You don’t want to try my temper.”
“I—” The shopkeeper noticed Aspen, pausing long enough for Cooperation to turn as well.
Cooperation grinned, unsurprised by her presence. “You’ve always been predictable. I heard you were in the area, and all I needed to lure you in was the grating pleas of the desperate.” He shoved the shopkeeper away.
The shopkeeper stumbled and then recovered. With a glance and a nod toward the parent and child at the other end of the alley, the shopkeeper darted into the shop. The lock clicked. Their family followed their cue and entered the shop through the front, leaving Aspen and Cooperation alone.
At least, she assumed they were alone. Were Unity or Niwa lurking nearby? Cooperation could have any number of nasty surprises up his sleeve.
“How long has it been?” Cooperation asked, as if they were two old friends catching up over a few pastries.
Aspen evaluated the alley as he talked. Empty wooden crates lined the walls, bookended by a couple of barrels. There was a pile of garbage on the far side of the narrow path. It would be a tight fight, especially with swords. Not enough space for her preferred creativity or his preferred acrobatics. She wasn’t sure which one of them would be hindered more.
“Not long enough,” Aspen said.
He laughed and the sound sent shivers down her spine. “You’re easy to catch,” he said. He drew his sword. “Difficult to find, though.”
“Or maybe you aren’t very good at looking,” Aspen said. She pulled her own sword from the sheath on her back. Its familiar weight settled comfortably in her hand while she waited for him to make the first move. “I’ve been in the area a while. I even made some friends.”
“Your only friend abandoned you the first chance he had. How is Ayzeh enjoying retirement? The Sun Realm is a dangerous place, you know.”
The veiled threat didn’t provoke her to action. Cooperation wanted her off-balance, both physically and mentally. She wouldn’t fall for his tricks. Ayzeh was a capable fighter, and she didn’t doubt his ability to handle himself. But if Cooperation and his friends were keeping tabs on him, he might need assistance. When she had a chance, Aspen would check on him. She asked, “As dangerous as Falland?”
“Have you not enjoyed Falland’s hospitality?” Cooperation grinned as he darted forward, light on his feet, to thrust his sword at her.
She parried it easily, but she didn’t grow cocky. This was his favorite strategy when they sparred against each other. He would talk nonstop, to distract his opponent while he built their confidence with easy exchanges. Once they believed the fight was theirs, he struck in earnest.
“The company is a bit lacking.” She went on the offensive, driving him back toward the middle of the alley.
“You’re the one who left. I thought we were friends.” Cooperation pouted, a truly terrifying expression on his cruel, rugged face. He held her off with his sword even as he bent down to lift an empty crate off the ground. He hurled it at her, and she had to duck to avoid being hit in the face.
She recovered, but there was space between them again. Part of her was tempted to charge in and demand he fight. Only the knowledge that he wanted her to lose her focus kept her where she was.
“We were never friends.”
“We can’t be now,” he agreed. “You’re a criminal. Pike wants you hauled back to Harstead for justice.”
Hauled back to Harstead? That was more trouble than just giving an order to kill her. Why Pike cared if she lived or died remained a mystery, but at least she knew for sure that Cooperation and Pike were still working together.
Cooperation took advantage of her distraction and attacked. She got her sword up in time to deflect the point of his blade so it skidded against the wall instead of piercing her shoulder. After ducking to avoid his next attack, she settled into a proper defense.
Aspen flashed a smile at his irritation. “You need to work harder if you want me fatally distracted. Did you think leaving the Scale made me soft?”
“You’re a coward and a traitor who never belonged.”
“So why not just kill me?” Aspen muttered. She thrust her blade forward, knowing Cooperation would parry and send it to the right. Once the tip of her sword was within his guard, she thrust again and pierced his shirt. Flesh gave as she nicked his side. It wasn’t a fatal or even inconvenient wound, but first blood was hers.
“You’re predictable,” she told him as she danced back to avoid his counterattack.
“You’re weak,” he said. “I’m the favored one now.”
He came at her with speed. None of his moves were meant to land, but it took all her concentration to keep him at bay. He drove her backward toward the main road. If they made it there, they’d attract attention and it would work in his favor. He didn’t care about collateral damage. He’d draw a crowd and use it against her.
She slid her blade along his until their guards locked against each other. It put them perilously close, but she used his surprise to turn them before she disengaged. She leapt back and landed on the balls of her feet as he drew a dagger with his free hand. A moment slower and he would have gutted her.
The danger made her heart pump harder, but not with fear. She’d missed this. Cobbling together odd jobs, guarding the rich and retrieving their lost goods, that was a way to make a living, but this—she hadn’t had a good fight in far too long.
What she missed most was a friendly spar. How many times had she and Ayzeh drawn steel and sharpened each other’s techniques between missions? This fight was distinctly unfriendly. Their weapons weren’t blunted—Cooperation would enjoy hurting her—but at least it was a proper challenge.
It was Aspen’s turn to grab a crate off the ground and toss it. As Cooperation batted it away with his dagger hand, Aspen charged. She drove the pommel of her blade into his throat. He coughed as he stumbled back. She grabbed the dagger from his lax grip and tossed it away.
He swung at her with his free hand. She took the hit across the jaw. Pain throbbed and she ignored it. She stood her ground and reversed her sword grip in time to meet his attack. She tasted blood in her mouth. A spot of red stained his side from where the wound she gave him bled sluggishly.
“Thank you for meeting me here,” Aspen said. “It’ll be a short trip to the magistrate once I subdue you.”
“Subdue,” he mocked. “The Scale ends things with swords, not magistrates.”
Never the most level-headed of her colleagues, Cooperation let what little discipline he possessed slip away. He was wounded, one of his weapons was out of reach, and Aspen wasn’t cowed. It was his pride she’d damaged more than anything, but with an opponent like Cooperation, pride was the first target.
Once he was embarrassed, he’d crumble.
He shouted and ran at her.
Aspen almost laughed as she met his frenzied thrusts. Soon he’d go berserk. No strategy, all offense. She allowed him to drive her backward. The more successful he felt, the more reckless he’d become.
She kept an eye out on her surroundings. If she retreated a few steps more, they would be close enough to the barrels for her to guide his blade to one of them. Once the tip was lodged in the wood, she’d have a small window to subdue him before he could free his blade.
One step back. A second. One more and—
Aspen’s back foot caught a loose bit of rock. She slipped and fell on her backside. Cooperation saw his opportunity and he drove forward, throwing his full weight behind the attack. Aspen rolled out of the way, and he pierced the wooden barrel rather than her body.
Before Aspen could press her advantage, a rock hit Cooperation in the back of the head and distracted both of them. It was a small rock, and Aspen groaned when she saw Charm at the mouth of the alley, a second rock in hand.
“This must be the wife,” Cooperation said with a nod toward Charm. He pulled his blade free of the barrel and skipped out of Aspen’s reach. “I owe Mort an apology for doubting him.”
Cooperation backed down the other end of the alley. Aspen was going to lose him. “Are you too much of a coward to finish our fight?”
For a moment, Cooperation’s expression darkened, and Aspen thought she’d goad him into taking another run at her. But he was thinking clearly again, and he didn’t engage. “We’ll finish our fight. You might not be easy to find, but she is.” He pointed his sword at Charm. “I could smell her perfume from Ozhleh Zna.”
Cooperation darted down the alley and disappeared from view. Resigned, Aspen headed in the opposite direction until she reached Charm. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but Cooperation was right. Charm was wearing perfume.
How did she find perfume in prison?
More importantly, why wasn’t she still in prison?
“Did you really think a few bars would keep me contained?” Charm asked. She was in nicer clothes, a long, patterned skirt and lace-up bodice that covered her entire chest. Charm noticed Aspen’s gaze and she sighed as she patted her breasts. “I couldn’t find something in my preferred style. Don’t worry. Once I have my things again, I’ll show off properly.”
Aspen didn’t have time for this. Cooperation had escaped. Even worse, their encounter had shortened her window to act. He might get to Mort’s farm before she did.
And his threatening comment about Ayzeh needled her. It had been years since Aspen had written to her best friend, but she owed him a warning. He’d left the Scale right after Integrity’s murder, before Pike had fully seized control. Why would he be a target? While she was asking questions, why was she a target? She and Cooperation had never been friendly, but it didn’t explain his remark about Pike wanting to haul her to Harstead.
It had been years since he’d lied and accused her of Integrity’s murder. Had he been searching for her this whole time? Aspen had taken precautions, moved around a lot, but she hadn’t realized the depth of Pike’s obsession. That false accusation had been a political move, designed to disgrace and exile her, not something Pike actually believed.
“What did you think you were doing?” Aspen demanded, her tone sharper than she intended. She’d had Cooperation exactly where she’d wanted him and then—
She glared at Charm. “I had it under control.”
“Under control?” Charm scoffed as she followed Aspen to where Mouse waited patiently for her return. “You fell on your ass and barely avoided being speared.”
“On purpose. Or did you not notice the way he stuck his own blade in a barrel like an idiot?”
Charm’s smugness faded for a moment, before she tossed her hair. Her curls bounced, shiny and free of any trace of their travels. Had Aspen been hit in the head during the fight? She swore she’d left Charm in prison, not a luxury inn.
“And how does it feel, having your plans stymied by a misguided passerby?” Charm asked.
“You—the situation is completely different,” Aspen said. A thorough check of her saddlebags showed that everything was still safely stowed. Cooperation’s dagger lay on the ground where she’d tossed it. She added it to her collection of weapons, then made a hurry-up motion at Charm, beckoning her toward Mouse. “Are you coming or not?”
“Last time you whisked me away on a horse, I ended up in prison,” Charm said.
“Yes, clearly an inconvenience.” She’d have to find out later how Charm had escaped. Whoever Napier’s best people were, they weren’t up to the task. “You know, they were almost convinced you weren’t involved, but after your daring rescue, Cooperation believes you’re important to me. He’ll try to use you to hurt me. We’ll have to stick together.”
“It’s almost as if we could have done that all along,” Charm said. “You’ve mistaken me for someone useless, and I’m not.”
“Please take this seriously. I don’t want you dead.”
“I am as serious as The Tragedy of Queen Justice,” Charm said. “Only I hope this one doesn’t end with everyone on stage dying of stab wounds. Now tell me everything you learned while you were on your own. Did you find our good friend Mort? What kind of trouble are you mixed up in?”
“Us, now,” Aspen said. Her mouth drew to the side. “My darling wife.”
“So Mort stiffed the scary guys he hired to protect him from the bandits,” Charm said.
Evening was falling, shadowing the fields and forests outside Ilgate in somber greens and greys, so they were on the main road for speed and visibility. Aspen was fairly confident Cooperation wouldn’t pursue them until he managed to wake Mort and find out where they were headed, but she wanted advance notice just in case anyone was following them. Out here, there was only the occasional crunch of a leaf or branch underfoot to interrupt the quiet, so she’d hear if anyone got closer.
“Yes,” Aspen said.
“Scary guys who happen to be your former colleagues with matching tattoos.”
“Yes.”
“Then he saw your tattoo and freaked out because he thought you were there to finish the job.”
“Yes.”
“But you aren’t part of their violence-and-blackmail scheme, so instead Mort decided to turn you over to the scary guys to make up for when he tried to wiggle out of his deal.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re now using Mort to set a trap for these guys, one of whom tried to kill you in an alley.”
“I was going to win that fight,” Aspen said.
“Hush,” Charm said. “And I’m involved because I tried to do the right thing by helping you in the tavern and then again earlier today.”
“I don’t think ‘help’ really covers what happened at The Full Flagon. You did rob me.”
“You loved it,” Charm said.
Aspen refused to discuss that. “Do you understand the danger you’re in now?”
“I will graciously admit that I may have overestimated my own usefulness to you in these circumstances,” Charm said. “Perhaps.”
“Given that you’re a petty thief, and we’re dealing with mercenary killers, I’d rather you weren’t involved.”
“I want a divorce,” Charm said.
“As soon as I handle the threat,” Aspen promised. And then, “We’re not actually married.” Thank the Great Oak that Charm was seated in front of her and couldn’t see her blush. “How did you escape the prison, anyway?”
She’d most likely flirted her way out, but if Charm could pick locks or dig tunnels, Aspen wanted to know. Well, there hadn’t been time for tunneling, not to mention that Charm would never do manual labor if she could avoid it. Maybe she’d used magic, though Aspen couldn’t think of a kind of magic that would help a person slip out of a guarded cell, at least not one Charm would have had access to. Earth magic required all kinds of specialized ingredients and scholarly chanting. You didn’t need any power of your own if you bought a spell from a shop, like the mirror-shard pendant Charm always wore, but that particular spell was for long-distance communication, so it couldn’t have helped her.
More mysterious, innate kinds of magic existed, like what Moon witches could do. They just laid their hands on you, or closed their eyes, or sometimes didn’t move at all, and things around them would transform. But if Charm was a Moon witch—and Aspen was pretty sure she wasn’t, since they were so rare—she would never have submitted to coming on this journey in the first place.
