The trap had closed. Here they stood in the middle of the river, with hyenas raging on both shores, anxiously awaiting a command to tear them apart, and the silent bandits standing behind the beasts, guns ready. The chargas hissed, baring their teeth, bristling their fur. Kangassk, not knowing what else to do, tried to shield Vlada with his body.
Drop your weapons! somebody cried to them from the western shore. The voice was young, impudent, and boyish.
Do as he says, Kan, said Vlada in a chilly tone.
They threw their swords, bow, and arrows into the river. The swords sank to the bottom, but the bow and arrows were carried away by the bubbling water.
Thanks to his wild friends acute sense of smell, Sasler had finally found the kids after a couple of hours. He climbed a lofty rock to rise above the fog a bit and took a closer look at them through the scope. That was when he had realized he came too late.
Two black figures stood barefooted in the middle of the river, their hands in the air, their weapons at their feet. Crogans thugs watched them from the both sides of Fervida.
Saslers heart began to race as he zoomed in to examine the bandits faces: both Crogans, father and son, had been there! The boy looked so much like his sire there could be no mistake.
My revenge will be terrible, Crogan, he thought, aiming at the little bandits leg
Young Crogan uttered a shrill scream and fell to the ground, clutching at his leg. All the thuggish insolence he had been so proud of washed away in an instant, he cried like a child he was. His pants were soaked with blood and the stain was growing wider and wider.
The ghost shooter! The Wood Ghost is here! the bandits around him shouted, their fear quickly turning into panic. A moment later they broke the formation and started shooting in all directions in a desperate attempt to reach the unseen hunter in the fog.
The second bullet bit the young Crogan in the palm, adding to his agony. Then it was the thugs turn. The ones who had carelessly removed their kevlar cowls in the heat got shot in their heads and died instantly. The others werent so lucky and shared the young Crogans fate: the Ghost shot them in the legs.
Vlada and Kan froze where they stood, with their hands still up. Both were afraid to move at first but soon realized the ghost shooter was after the bandits, not them. They, on the other hand, had a new problem to deal with: the hyenas. The beasts, maddened by their masters panic, decided to go for the kill and charged.
Kan, pick up your sword! Vlada came to her senses first, just in time for the spotted monsters were already advancing from both sides.
The chargas took the first two hyenas and were busy ripping them apart, rolling and splashing in the reddened water. The rest of the pack targeted Vlada and Kan. Whoever that ghost shooter was, his attention had obviously been somewhere else at the moment, so they were on their own.
The outer world where people shouted and died, where two strangers fought back to back against the hyenas in the middle of the river, where everything that could go wrong did go wrong, no longer existed for old Crogan. There was only him and his dying son. The boy no longer cried. He curled up in the grass, gasping for air, his face as white as chalk. There was nothing the mighty gang leader could do, nothing.
When Vlada and Kan had finally crossed the river Kan walking with a limp because one of the hyenas had bit him they saw not the famous leader of the dark horde, but a broken old man devastated by his grief. Crogan wept, wept inconsolably, helpless and defeated for the first time in his life. His son was dying in his arms, nothing else mattered. Crogan's gun lay beside him in the grass, thrown away and forgotten. He took off his kevlar cloak, his only protection against the ghost shooter's bullets, and covered the boy with it so the Ghost would not torture him any more. One of the hyenas that survived the fight by running away in time snapped at the young Crogan's arm. Old Crogan broke its neck with his bare hands, his strength magnified tenfold by the grief.
"Please" the boy whispered, "No hyenas, dad I'm afraid." He went silent.
That was the moment when old Crogan went mad. He cried, tearing his hair out one moment, praying the next, he cursed, he begged his son to wake up Then the world went dark for him, literally, for Crogan went blind.
Kangassk caught a glimpse of a dark figure walking through the fog. Soon, a stranger emerged from beyond the misty veil. He wore no kevlar, just a green woollen cloak over his worn leather clothing. The gun he carried had a black, bulging eye on its barrel. Uncovered, the eye blinked with every step. Kan couldnt stop looking at it.
This is your punishment, Crogan, said the stranger, Do you remember how you tortured my son to death? He was about the same age as yours. Does it seem fun to you now?
The old man didnt answer. He kept raving praying, cursing, begging but suddenly there was a glimpse of consciousness, so brief yet so bright.
Kill! Kill me as well! demanded Crogan.
No, the ghost shooter shook his head. His voice was icy cold, merciless. I want you to live. And suffer, like I did.
That said, he stepped over the dead boys body and approached Vlada and Kangassk.
Im Sasler, he introduced himself. Ive been keeping an eye on you since you left the old road, wanted to keep you safe. Little did I know where you would lead me, kids. But Im grateful. I dreamed of revenge for years. It feels good to be free again Now, take the guns from the dead and be on your way. No one will hurt you any more.
He didnt wait for the answer, he just turned around and walked away. Soon, he was no more than a dark silhouette in the fog. The eye on his rifle kept glimmering through the white veil long after he had disappeared altogether.
Vlada and Kan left the deadly place with a heavy heart. All the way to the border of the region they kept hearing the old mans cry.
Chapter 3. White gloom
The wounds didnt let Kan and Vlada walk far, so they camped as soon as they left the Burnt Region behind them. Making a fire so close to the bandit territory was a bad idea but they needed hot water to wash the wounds, so Vlada decided to risk it.
They made their camp at the foot of a bare hill near a chatty cold rivulet snaking between the stones. Vlada left Kan with the chargas and went to fetch water. While she was away the good-natured beasts licked the boys wounds as well as their own. He didnt protest. He was unable to, being barely conscious with fever. Hyena bites are nasty.
The travellers were lucky that burngrass, a field medics best friend, grew in abundance around that hill. It makes an excellent antiseptic when boiled in water. The chargas sniffed suspiciously at the cauldron with the burngrass potion. Obviously, treating them with it was out of question.
Kangassks leg, the one bitten by the hyena, swelled so badly it barely fitted into the boot now. Vlada, too, hadnt come out of the battle unscathed this time. She got a stray bullet to the shoulder. Her kevlar cloak did help a lot, but the nasty piece of lead went through it anyway which resulted in a shallow but painful wound surrounded with a darkish bruise.
Their wounds treated, the travellers ate a cold supper and tried to sleep. It wasnt easy. Kangassk could only guess what his companion might have been thinking about; as for him, he couldnt close his eyes without seeing the battle again, the old man crying over the dead boy, or a dark shadow of Sasler the punisher walking through the mist, the bulging eye on his rifle glinting with every step.
Why did he do that to the boy? Revenge or not, that was over the top. Kangassk muttered, his gaze wandering among the early stars in the sky.
Snipers are like that. Theyre cruel, answered Vlada in a strangely knowing way.
Who? Kan asked again. The word was unfamiliar to him.
Snipers. That man invented a scope to aim and shoot from afar. He is a sniper, the only one in the world for now.
How the heck do you know all these things?
Experience.
Kangassk decided not to pursue the matter further. He felt weird. Something was definitely wrong here but he couldnt put his finger on it. Vlada seemed as young as he was yet knew a good deal more. Was she older than she looked? Its not that you can safely ask a girl such a question Was she a mage? That would explain a lot. No, she didnt look like one. A warriors daughter then? Possibly the only child, papas girl that had been given a sword as soon as she could walk.
Experience! Hah! Kan would have known a thing or two about the outside world as well had he travelled instead of breathing ash and dust in his masters workshop.
So, nothing was wrong with Vlada after all? The weird feeling was just the fever getting into his head? There was no way to make sure.
They stayed in the camp that day to let the hyena bites heal enough to allow the injured to walk again. While Kangassk got just one bite, chargas got at least a dozen. For the moment both were as helpless as kittens. Vlada shared the dry wayfarer meal with the brave beasts and brought them a cauldron of water from the stream. Chargas lapped up the water like cats and looked grateful.
With three of four being in such a sorry state, it took the little group two days to reach the nearest town, Tammar.
The locals took them for Crogans bandits at first. Kevlar cloaks and guns kind of suggested that. The fright quickly turned to cheer when they heard the news, though. One Crogan dead, the other retired! Unbelievable! Praises, songs, and a shower of rose petals followed. Neither Vlada nor Kan was happy about it, though.
They gave their guns and kevlar cloaks to the towns mayor for safekeeping. The grateful local ruler offered them food, meds, and shelter. That night Vlada and Kan slept under a roof again. Their rooms were small and simple but after all the nights they spent outdoors with mosquitoes anything with a roof seemed good enough.
Reading again, Kangassk? asked Vlada. She had walked into his room so quietly he never heard a step.
Yeah, about that Region were in now, he replied with a yawn. He was reading with all possible comfort: in his bed.
Anything interesting? she smiled and sat down on the side of the bed.
Well, its the Calid Region. Known for its warm climate. Also, local magical anomalies are beneficial for soothsayers, recited Kangassk. "Hmm soothsayers. I saw their tents when we entered the town. Maybe it'd be interesting to pay them a visit, what do you think? Aren't you curious about the future?"
"I'd rather not know it." Vlada shook her head.
"But why?"
"Not knowing what lies ahead makes life less boring, Kan."
"Oh well, whatever you say"
Kan closed the book and tried to raise himself up on one elbow to get closer to the girl but the elbow sank in the soft pillows.
"So what's the plan?" he asked with a faint hope in his voice. "Are we still taking the shortest road? No detours?"
"No detours." Vlada nodded.
She wore a light nightgown now instead of her usual travelling clothes. She sat on his bed, so near. All that made Kangassk wonder, "Why did she come? Does she want to stay? It would be really nice if she stayed" His thoughts ran in circles repeating the phrase "She called me handsome!" again and again as fervently as if it were a prayer.
"I came to check how you feel," explained Vlada.
Kan broke into a cold sweat. Did she just read his thoughts? Was he that obvious?
"Glad to see you're getting better," she continued. "Well, good night!"
"I wish you had stayed with me," whispered Kan after Vlada had left the room.
Vlada's "goodnight" didn't work. Hours had passed yet Kangassk was still wide awake, tossing and turning in his bed. He tried counting gryphons, then sheep. Gryphons were a Kuldaganian thing, he knew now that people outside the mountain ring preferred to count sheep instead, so he did. Nothing helped him calm down and fall asleep, though. He thought he had got used to being diurnal during his journey with Vlada. He was wrong. Or maybe the young warrior girl wishing him good night while wearing a thin nightgown was the reason for everything
Kangassk got up and sat by the window. The view was nice. Hundreds of lights twinkled below. The town seemed wide awake with the echoes of the last day's celebrations. There were happily drunk people roaming the streets, signs shone, highlighted by little lamps, merchants cried out their prices Going for a walk suddenly seemed like a good idea.
Kangassk got dressed, took his sword with him, just in case, and left the inn. The noisy, almost Kuldaganian night swallowed him as soon as he stepped out of the door. Kan didn't have much money on him, so he just kept walking through the town, looking around, enjoying the noise, and smiling back to the celebrating folk, until he left the highly populated area and entered the dark, serene heart of the soothsayers' town.
He kept walking at a slow pace to avoid disturbing his healing wounds. Unknown to him, his gait looked quite heroic because of that, as if he were an old, tired warrior on a stroll, not a hyena-bitten runaway smith thinking of a certain young lady in the nightgown.
"Hey, hero!" someone called in a thin voice. "Come, I'll tell your fortune!"
Kangassk turned his head to the speaker and smiled when he saw a little girl no more than ten years old. She wore a long frayed dress, a proper soothsayer attire, but along with her skinny figure and messy boyish haircut, it made her look like a funny little sparrow. The girl sat on a squeaky folding chair by the wall and looked very serious. An unlit sign beside her written in childishly crooked letters clearly stated her business here.
"So you are a soothsayer?" said Kan with a soft chuckle. He couldn't help feeling like a real, hardened warrior now, towering over the child.
"Of course! I'm an Illian. All women in my family have the gift." The girl sniffed at him meaningfully, her pride obviously hurt by the stranger's disbelief. "Let me tell your fortune and see for yourself!"
Kan approached the child.
Why do you sit there alone at night? he asked.
No real soothsayer reads fortunes in daylight, she explained, clearly being very proud of being the real one. Day is for charlatans and the fools who believe them. The future can be properly seen only at night!
Sorry, I didnt know. Kan squatted down beside the kid. So, how much?
Five coins, said the little soothsayer in such a tone that clearly meant there could be no arguments about the price.
Expensive
You want your fortune told or not?
Kangassk had never seen such a proud and confident child before. Beatings, starvation, cruelty? There was no doubt the girl had never known such treatment.
He dropped the argument and put the five coins on her little palm.
"Now you must say: I give Zanna permission to read my fortune."
Kan repeated the words.
Zanna closed her eyes and frowned, thinking. She was supposed to look mysterious, Kan thought, but instead she looked like a little schoolgirl solving a math problem. It was hard not to laugh.