CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

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Urman

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23rd of Decepter, 935 PC

Urman held his spear in one hand and wiped the blood from his face with the other as crouched behind a tree at the edge of camp, licked the newest gap between the teeth deep in his mouth. The metallic taste of blood was anything but unfamiliar, but that didn’t mean it was enjoyable either. The wind swept through the trees with an eerie whisper. Not strong enough to deter bad intentions, but plenty loud enough to conceal them. He had done his best work in times like these. Leaves rolled and tumbled across the small campsite. The fire had been blown out while he was gone. No doubt done so by his invisible accomplice.

Kathar lay by the firepit, wrapped tight in the blanket he had brought from home but still visibly distressed by the chilled breeze. Ember was laying as close to him as she could get, a part of his blanket covered half her body. The sight of the blanket infuriated him. How many times I have wanted a fuckin’ blanket while sleeping in the cold? More normalcy he has that I never will. I should know better than to think I’m anything but a killer. Normalcy. This is my normalcy. Runnin’, killin’. In the cold. Stomach growlin’ from hunger. There ain’t no escapin’ it.

He looked at the others. Kole lay flat on his back, snoring gently for a man his size. Midella was on her side, pressed close to a log in hopes of shielding herself from the wind. Theresa’s Lotus issued bedroll was empty, the tiny bundle of charisma nowhere to be found. Panic set in instantly. He glanced over his shoulder, scanned the trees. I told him we had no business travelin’ with Lotus. Wynu’s face appeared in his mind. His dying eyes stared at Urman, silently pleading for mercy. Bastard. He swiped the westerner away with a quiet grunt. Are they all like him? Waiting for an opportunity to betray me? Or are they like me? Cursed to always have some fool willing to fuck them over. His eyes fell on Kole. Ain’t ever seen Kathar enjoy someone’s company more than him. Not even when he’s with me. He gripped his spear tighter. The urge to plunge it’s tip through Kole’s fat neck was rising quickly spurred by a ferocious jealousy.

He spotted Theresa walking back into camp from the south. Her hood was pulled low over her face to shield the wind. She stopped and stared at the scene before her, clearly examining the empty space that should have been filled by his sleeping body. Her eyes moved to Wynu’s empty bedroll. What are you thinking, you lying bitch? How best to fool me? Wondering if Wynu is dead? If the villainous commoner killed him? It hurt surprisingly bad to think all of Theresa’s stories and hatred for The Lotus Queen were just well-crafted lies. He didn’t want to believe that, but the thought of trusting a liar, again, was too much. Never again! Never again will I let my emotions fool me into thinkin’ I can trust anybody but Kathar.

Theresa stepped toward the sleeping Kathar. Panic ensued in his jittery mind. I can’t let her hurt him. I can’t let her take him. It was Harlow’s face that appeared though, not Kathar. He gripped the spear even tighter as Theresa approached his only friend. Send it flying. Kill her. He didn’t move though. Something deeper than his hatred told him not to. The deserter walked past Kathar and crouched by the ash-filled firepit and removed one of her gloves. He could see the purple glow of her fingernails. She planted her fingers in the ashes and a moment later a small, purple flame, or something like it, was dancing in the wind. She turned her head toward Kathar, put her glove back on, then stood and moved toward her own bedroll.

When she was sitting down, he stepped out from behind his tree. She spotted him immediately. There was no fear or elation, just a stoic examination of his beaten body. She knew. He moved to the purple fire and lowered himself, letting his spear lay across his risen knee as he warmed his bare hands.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think he’d do it.” He wanted to pounce on her right then and there. Kill her. Kill the others before they could gather what was happening. But the sorrow in her eyes was genuine. Killing her, all of them. It wasn’t necessary. They were dead to him, but for once it would only be figurative blood on his hands. For now.

Urman shook Kathar’s leg. Then again. And again. Until he rolled over annoyedly and looked at him. Ember climbed to her feet, animalistic shock in her droopy eyes from being disturbed from her sleep.

“What do you want?”

“We have to go.”

Kathar tried to deduce the time of morning through his tired eyes. “What? Why?”

“Lotus are coming.”

That got the man’s attention like a bucket of cold water being thrown over his head. He sat up straight. “How’d they find us?”

“Does it matter?”

Kathar nodded and threw the blanket aside. He looked at Theresa who was still sitting, no discernible emotions on her face. Kole and Midella were still sound asleep, excluding the wheezy snore coming from Kole. He looked back at Urman.

“What’s going on?”

“On our own from here,” Urman said, his eyes locked tight on Theresa.

The first faint sounds of a cloudcruiser’s flapping wings crawled through the sky above them.

Theresa climbed to her feet slowly, clearly reading Urman’s reactions. “I have to wake them. We have to leave too.” Urman didn’t move a muscle.

“What’s going on?” Kathar asked again. His frustration nearly boiled over when no one responded.

Theresa moved toward Midella. Nudged her awake with her foot. She did the same with Kole. “Get up. We have to go.”

Both oversized Lotus moved like lumbering oafs. Kole looked at Wynu’s empty bedroll, then the group. “Where’s Wyn?”

“He’s dead.” Urman spoke coldly, bluntly.

Midella and Kole glared at him.

“Urman. You didn’t.”

“I did.” There was no shame in his voice. “Bastard sent for the Lotus you hear coming.” There was a silence in the campsite as each man and woman acknowledged the sounds of the incoming cloudcruiser over the whispering wind.

“Wynu wouldn’t do that,” Midella said. Her blonde hair was frizzy and wild which matched her deranged glare perfectly.

“He would and he did,” Theresa said. “Doesn’t matter now. We have to get to the bridge.”

Kole said, “No.” She looked at him. “If Wynu sent a message to them then they know where we’re heading. We need another route.”

The deserters certainly weren’t acting like they were all willing to sell Urman to the Lotus. They didn’t appear to have any ulterior motives.

Midella began gathering her things. “He’s right. We have to find somewhere else to go. They will split up. Flank and ambush. They’ll push us toward the bride and trap us. Lotus tactics. Practically they’re only tactics.” There’s real fear in them. I’ve seen that kind of fear plenty of times over. Now Urman didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, Midella began to vomit. It splattered in the dry leaves at her feet. Theresa was on her instantly, her hand on her hunched back, rubbing gently, whispering comfort to the other woman. Her hand dug into pocket. Urman reflexively tensed. Raised his spear. He didn’t lower it, even after all she revealed was a lotus capsule. Midella wiped the bile from her lips and grabbed the capsule without standing up.

“Give me one,” Kole said to Theresa. She didn’t turn from Midella.

“You don’t need one.”

“Give me one, dammit!”

She turned. Glared at him.

“Now!” he said.

The cloudcruiser’s obnoxious flapping was growing louder. Tension in the campsite was building, becoming suffocating, uncomfortable.

Kathar looked at Urman. “I have an idea.”

“Does it involve them?”

His silence answered for him. Urman shook his head.

“There’s no other way.” He turned to the others. “I have a plan!”