Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [59]
"Derst, where the Hells are you?" Bars asked aloud. The invisible paladin shifted and almost lost his balance, nearly falling to the cobblestones. He could not, after all, see his feet.
"Right here, actually," came a voice from beside him. The suddenness made Bars jump, then fall.
"Beshaba's horns!" Bars covered his mouth as though to pull back the foul words. Since he couldn't see his hand, he poked himself in one invisible eye.
"Watch yourself there, you big oaf," said Derst. "You almost crushed me!"
"I can't 'watch myself,' orc-brain!" shouted Bars. "Your Tyr-cursed potions made us invisible, remember?"
"Well, obviously…" he trailed off. "I always find invisibility comfortable, don't you?"
"How do you turn the damned things off?" growled Bars. "I feel… disconnected, as though I'm outside my body. A ghost." Like Walker, was his next thought, with a chill.
"Oh, you're all right," replied Derst in a tone that indicated he had rolled his eyes. "Well, I suppose I'm used to it, and my senses are a little sharper than yours. I'm tempted to just leave the invisibility on and let your small brain figure it out." Bars felt a heavy tap on his shoulder, a light push, and Derst shimmered back into visibility.
"See, it's that simple," said the wiry knight. "You remember how I told you not to hit anyone until-" Then a heavy force struck his stomach, and the smaller man doubled over with a gasp.
The paladin faded into view. "You're right, that was simple," said Bars, cracking his knuckles.
Derst just moaned.
"Funny, didn't mean to hit you so hard. Right then, Sir-Plans-A-Lot, what now?"
Slowly, Derst recovered himself and stood up straight. "To the stable," he muttered. "There's a trap door, used by those who Har-er, do business with me, in certain unpleasant circumstances a little like these. Tight quarters, though."
"Joyous," Bars said glumly.
CHAPTER 10
28 Tarsakh
Arya did not know how long they had been traveling through the forest, Swiftfall picking her way between fallen limbs and avoiding holes in the ground. The deeper they went, the darker it became and the less at ease she felt. The silence of their ride did not help. Walker was far from talkative. Nightmares had gripped him earlier, and he had called out strange words she had not recognized, but they seemed to have passed, leaving him silent.
At first, she had filled the quiet with the tale of how she came to be in Quaervarr, of the vanished couriers, and of her suspicions about Greyt. Now, the knight divided her focus between ducking under tree branches and thinking about the mysterious man slumped against her back. He had long since stopped murmuring, and now she didn't know if he were even still breathing.
"Walker?" she asked. "Still with me back there?"
When there was no response, Arya turned her head back to look at Walker. He sat slumped, eyes closed, on the back of the horse. "Walker?" she asked in a frightened whisper. "Are you-still alive?"
His eyes flickered open and his intense blue gaze found her worried face.
"Of course," said Walker. "I shall speak up if I feel about to expire."
Arya looked away, hiding her relief. At first, she was upset he had frightened her, and that his voice had been almost mocking, but she laughed. It was appropriate, since she had sounded like a frightened little girl.
"Was that a jest?" she asked with a half smile.
Walker did not reply except to release her waist.
"What's the matter?" asked Arya, worried again, clutching at his hand. He felt so cold, even through the glove.
"I can sit on my own," Walker said. She heard a tiny elf touch to his voice.
"You've lost that much blood and now you can sit on your own?" Arya asked, doubtful.
"Healing." His rasping voice was soft.
"No one heals that fast," Arya said. "You were on Kelemvor's doorstep when I pulled you onto Swiftfall's back. How-"
Walker's