The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [52]
“I’ve done you a good turn already, bird,” Daine said. “Don’t push me further. If you betray us … well, why don’t you just take a look at my thoughts and see what I have in mind?”
Huwen shivered, ruffling his feathers. “That’s quite … colorful. I’m not sure it’s even possible, but truly, I have no intention of testing it out. As I see it, we’re all on fair ground here. I was doing a bit of snooping. I’m the first to admit that. You caught me, laid hurt on me good. You help me get fixed up, I help you find some shelter for our lady friend here, and everyone comes out even. No need to go thinking things like that.”
“But I still am,” Daine said. “Remember that.”
Daine turned to Xu’sasar. “Your instincts are good, Xu. I understand what you’re thinking. But I’ve made a choice, and I need you to back me on it.”
She was surprised, less by what was said than by the way in which he spoke. Xu’sasar was a child of the wilds, trained to hear the voice of the spirit, and she could sense a growing strength within Daine—something he might not even be aware of himself. She still knew very little about the outlander. She gathered that he’d been suffering from some sort of illness in Xen’drik and that he’d earned the warrior’s marks on his back at the same time that he’d overcome this affliction. She wondered if this predatory spirit had always been within him, or if it was a seed that had taken root in the final lands.
He was waiting for a response. She clicked her tongue and inclined her head, a gesture she’d learned from watching him.
“Good. I need Pierce to carry Lei. If Huwen is telling the truth, that spark of light is the inn. Scout ahead. Take to the woods, whatever you think best. You know how you’d plan an ambush, so use that knowledge.”
She clicked her tongue again.
“Do not engage strangers. I can’t afford to lose anyone else. If you see anything threatening, return and report. If that’s impossible, we’ll need a warning signal. Can you match this?”
Daine whistled, mimicking the call of an outlander bird. It took Xu’sasar two tries to match the call. He taught her two more calls, one for “all clear” and another for “response requested.” At last he was satisfied.
“You may be as sharp as Pierce,” he said. “You may be as quick in the night. Now show me you can be reliable. Good hunting.”
Xu’sasar clicked her tongue and stepped off the path. The bird watched her go but didn’t say a word.
As soon as she stepped off the path, Xu’sasar could feel the presence of the trees. A human might have dismissed this, shaken it off as general paranoia. Xu’sasar knew better. The trees were alive. They were more aware than the moon-dappled oaks on the other side of the river. With every step she took toward Dusk, the forest grew more aware and more hostile. Every step brought them deeper into the domain of the Woodsman. Xu’sasar wondered what shape this spirit preferred, what powers he possessed. She knew nothing of a Woodsman from the tales, and part of her took pleasure in this. She had the chance to carve out new legends. But now she had a task, a duty to protect this outlander. And she found herself feeling the first touches of fear. A noble death was no longer sufficient. She needed to live, to find a way to overcome her foes. What if she couldn’t? What if it was beyond her powers?
She pushed away these fears, pushed away all thought. A slight breeze blew through the trees, and Xu’sasar moved with this wind, slipping through the woods with such silent grace that not even the trees felt her presence.
There was no traffic on the path and little motion in the forest. Xu’sasar saw an owl swoop down on its prey, taking to the air with a tiny man in its talons. A silver fox crossed her path, slipping between bushes. But neither owl nor fox saw Xu’sasar.
Only once did she come upon true danger, and she never even learned what it was. As she drew closer