Unwanted Attention
“Tyrian. Get up.” A boot nudged his ribs; Hamish jerked awake and swept a dagger into his hand. Just as quickly, his arm seemed to freeze in place, and he twisted his head to see who accosted him.
The child was no more than twelve, but with eyes that flared a brilliant green in her dark face and ragged fleshy minions curled around her ankles like cats. “You need to go.”
He spread his fingers and the dagger fell onto the bright carpet he’d been using as a bedroll in the over-stuffed Ascension camp. Dawn was still hours away, but the child seemed unconcerned in the dark with a stranger. From the powers she’d shown so far, he couldn’t blame her for her confidence. “Stupid to camp out here and not with the others,” the child remarked idly.
“I wouldn’t be the first man dead of solitude.” Hamish twisted his body to match his arm’s angle; the child let the chill lapse. “What do you want from me?” As he spoke, he gathered his things together: map case, satchel of tools, the tripod with its strap that he slung over his shoulder.
The child made an approving noise. “You need to go. I overheard two men plotting to kill you and rob you for what you carry in that.” She pointed toward the map case. “Is it expensive?”
“No. But invaluable.” With the maps threatened, Hamish’s hesitation vanished. He rolled to his feet. “Will they follow me into the desert?” He left the carpet but dragged his pack onto his back with the rest. Axe and sword, tools, pack, water.
She shook her head. “No. They’re lazy. Ourida will take care of it tomorrow. She culls the thieves and the other bad people.” She handed Hamish an extra few water-skins. “West, the Awakened are fewest. I don’t feel as many of them that way.”
“Thank you,” Hamish glanced toward the nearby large tent with its thick fabric walls. Had one canvas panel rippled against a body standing close enough to hear? He lowered his voice. “Will you be hurt for helping me?”
The girl let out a contemptuous laugh. “Tyrians are funny. Go! Before they hear us.”
He needed no more urging. The weight on his back pulled him sideways, then settled when he jerked one strap higher into place. One year, he’d stop being able to hoist all of it, but not this year. Not yet. Step by step, he headed west in the darkness.
