Ghost's Sight (8 page)

His captor’s eyes flew wide. “The Father protect me, you know my name?” Fear was thick in the former ranger’s voice now. Ghost thought he could even see it in the man’s eyes, although he was no expert at how other people showed these emotions.

“We need to leave here. We need to go to a place I have. We’ll be safe there.” The ranger spoke mostly to himself, ignoring Ghost for the moment.

It was not what Ghost had hoped to hear. “You’re taking me with you?” He was too surprised to be afraid at first. Then it sank in, and he glared at the man called Bernd. “You’d risk having the witches hunt you?”

“Could be it’s a cleaner death if they take me,” Bernd said, that undertone of fear still thick in his voice. “Now shut up and let’s move. If you trip or slow me down, I’ll use the sleep stick on you again.” He patted his pocket as if Ghost was supposed to know what he was talking about.

“You’d have to carry me then, and that would slow you down. You’re better off just going without me.” Ghost was proud of how steady his voice was, of how he was able to meet the man’s eyes and stare him down.

Bernd snorted. “You don’t weigh more than a scrawny runner. I could carry you all night and not notice.” He freed Ghost’s hands, but before Ghost could enjoy the freedom, Bernd yanked Ghost’s hands back and tied them again. “I don’t want you touching that mark and witching me again. Now walk.”

Chapter 7

Gerry took a deep breath as he entered the yard in front of the Witch’s house, the place curiously quiet. He was not more than halfway to the house when the door opened. The Witch stepped out, her fierce eyes fixed on him.

“Bright morning,” Gerry said, offering a polite greeting, but the Witch cut him off.

“What brings you here, lad?” The Witch held herself very still, and Gerry felt a tingle of unease. She was guarded, unlike her manner the day before when Gerry had eaten at her table with Ghost.

Gerry took a quick breath. “I was actually hoping to speak to you first, and then to Ghost,” he admitted, his cheeks starting to feel warm.

The Witch frowned. “He’s not here.”

“Do you know when he’ll return?” Gerry was aware of the growing dampness in his palms, but did not dare rub them on his fine breeches.

“I’ve no idea,” the Witch snapped, her voice sharp. “I thought maybe he was with you.”

Gerry shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen him since I left with Mother. He said he’d wait for me.” Gerry took a deep breath, dread making his stomach twist. “I was going to offer for him, ask you for permission to ask him to be my dependent.”

“If he said he’d wait, then he would. He’s nothing if not honest, that one. Unless he took it into his head to go to you.” The Witch looked at Gerry, stern and fierce. “Stay here while I get my bag, and then we need to go find Mother and get him to help look for the little one.”

Gerry waited, his thoughts running dark. The path to the Witch’s house from the village was direct for the most part. It needed to be, since she was the nearest healer. She was midwife for the dams when the babes were due. There was no way Ghost could have missed the village if the young man had followed the path, and there was no reason for Ghost to go any other way. The sind made their lairs east of the Witch’s house. They never ranged this far from the dens, not when there were likely to be whelps there. None of it made sense.

“Don’t stand there looking like an idiot, lad.” The Witch’s dry voice interrupted Gerry’s fretting. “We need to go.”

The Witch let Gerry lead the way, a leather pouch over her shoulder and a stout staff in her hand. She showed no inclination to make conversation on the way to the village. Gerry was far too busy running over the same futile guesses to have much to say himself, so he welcomed the silence. Try as he might, he could find no reason for Ghost to have run off, and no good reason for Ghost to have vanished on the way to the village.

Mother was in the yard when Gerry and the Witch arrived, and he looked up with mild surprise. “I didn’t expect you back so quickly. There was no need for the Witch and me to confer, you know.”

Gerry shook his head, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. “He’s missing. Ghost is missing.”

“The little one wasn’t there this morning,” the Witch said. “I thought perhaps he’d gone to find your lad here, since it didn’t take much to see that they were drawn to each other. Imagine my surprise when the lad here turns up.”

Mother frowned. “We need to find him, then. Are there any places he might go?”

“Yes.” The Witch looked thoughtful. “He has a few places he goes when I annoy him, but there’s one in particular he favors. He thinks I don’t know about it, but there’s little that I miss, even if I am getting old. It’s one of the ruined places, and I warned him off it years ago, knowing he’d go there. It’s been scavenged past reason, and there’s nothing dangerous there, but it makes a good place for a little ghost to hide.”

“Give me a moment to get my bow,” Gerry said, his heart pounding hard as he listened to the Witch. There might not have been any relics left, but the old places crumbled and rotted in silence, and floors that were sturdy today might give way in the next moon. He had heard the tales from the rangers when they wintered in the village. They sat in the meadhouse during the long nights and traded tales with the locals. They spoke of the former rangers, and worse, that walked those dark places. Mother had even confirmed the truth of those stories. The thought of Ghost -- his Ghost -- lying at the bottom of some pit, hurt or unable to escape, made Gerry’s stomach knot.

Mother nodded at Gerry. “Change into your leathers. We’ll wait. I need to tell Conn where we’ll be, and get my bow and blade.”

“I heard.” Conn was standing outside the old coop, his tunic streaked with dirt. “It’s my fault.” His head drooped, and Gerry stared at Conn for a long moment.

“What do you mean?” Mother asked, a small frown on his face. Gerry waited for an answer as well, the hammering of his heart painful as he looked at the younger man.

Conn did not look up. “He came here last night. After we argued, Gerry, you went back to bed, and I went to take a piss. I came out of the wash-house, and he was in the yard.”

Gerry felt his hands ball into fists as he managed not to scream at Conn to spit it out for once, without a long, drawn out tale. Conn dared to meet Gerry’s eyes, looking miserable, but for once the kid did not shrink away or whine, so Gerry forced himself to stay patient.

“I was so fucking mad at you,” Conn said. “I don’t even remember what I said to him, but it was nasty. I was trying to hurt him and make him think you didn’t want him. He got this look on his face, and he turned around and he left. But he didn’t take the path. He went into the woods, and I just went into the house and never looked back.”

“You just talked to him? You never did anything else?” Mother asked.

“I grabbed his arm, but I didn’t hurt him.” Conn looked at Gerry. “But they were talking in the meadhouse. Someone saw this guy in ranger’s leathers outside the village, sort of prowling around. They said he looked rougher than usual.”

The Witch frowned. “Any ranger that close to the village would have stopped in to trade for supplies, or at the least to have a few mugs of mead. If this one didn’t want to be seen in the village, I’m not sure I like the implications.”

“You think he was dealing in slaves?” Mother turned back to Gerry. “Change and get your weapons. We’ll find your Ghost.”

Gerry hurried into his room to put on his hunting leathers, his fingers clumsy as he tried to be quick. There were always rumors in the meadhouse about those who had been deemed to be too mad to be rangers, scavengers who had lost their guildrank or never made it into the guild in the first place. Even rangers gave them a wide berth. The older alphas in the meadhouse talked in dark tones about the Westers and their slaves, and the renegades that supplied them.

With Ghost’s exotic looks, he would be a prize to a body snatcher like that.

Cursing under his breath, Gerry grabbed his knife and his bow, hurrying out to the yard to rejoin Mother and the Witch. Much to Gerry’s surprise, Conn had changed as well, and held the staff they used to spot sind holes. Gerry glared at the kid. Conn flushed but did not flinch away.

“Mother says I should come and help.” Conn swallowed hard. “I fucked up, Gerry. I don’t know if I can make it up to you and Ghost, but I’m trying. I have to start somewhere if I’m going to fucking grow up.”

Gerry would have liked nothing more than to scream at Conn, to shake him and agree with him, tell him exactly how badly he had fucked up this time, but that was not going to help Ghost. When he was concentrating, Conn was a decent spotter. They were going to need all the eyes they could get if they were following a former ranger.

“I’m sorry,” Conn said. There were tears in his eyes, but he still did not flinch away or try to sidle up to Mother for protection. “After we find him, you can beat the shit out of me if you want, but let me help.”

Gerry nodded, his throat too tight for words. It hurt to push himself into the role of an alpha, to force himself to focus on the larger goal. He could not allow himself to take all his fear out on Conn. He turned to the Witch instead.

“Will you lead me to this hiding place of Ghost’s?” Gerry struggled to keep his voice level, striving for the calm that Mother managed so well.

The Witch looked startled. “Why there, lad? If he’s been taken, we should be looking for the ranger.”

Gerry shook his head. “It was already late when Conn got home, and he said Ghost came by even later. I don’t think they would have gotten too far, and a ranger, even one that was stripped of guildrank, would feel at home there. The rangers stick to the ruins for the most part, anyway.” He looked at the Witch, trying to will her to understand. “But it’s more than just the ranger. It’s a place Ghost knows like the back of his hand, right? It would give Ghost an advantage, if he could find a way to get away. He’d know where to hide, and where to avoid, if he had the presence of mind not to let the ranger know that he knew those ruins.”

“That makes sense,” Mother said. “I think that’s a good place to start.”

The Witch was looking thoughtful again. Gerry waited for her response to his reasoning. He could not explain why he wanted to go to the ruins. It just sounded right, and felt right, much like his decision to ask straight away for Ghost to become his dependent. The more he considered the hiding place, the more obvious it seemed that Ghost would be found there.

“If nothing else, the lad is correct about the ranger feeling at home there, and there are few enough of the old places left in this region. It’s one of the reasons I settled here. I prefer my own company to that of unwashed rangers and too many of my sisters.” The Witch nodded. “I can lead you there, then. We’ll find your Ghost, lad.”

***

It did not take much past midday for them to reach the ruined city. Gerry was surprised by how extensive it was. The way the Witch had spoken of it had made him think it was one of the smaller places, but this was larger by far than the village. He wondered how they had not come across it while hunting. He looked at Mother, the older man solemn.

“I’ve never liked this place. I was young when I came here, thinking to make a quick scavenging run and bring back enough to offer for my first dependent. My alpha warned me off, but I didn’t want to listen.” Mother rubbed his arm, where Gerry knew he carried a thick scar, twisted and pale with age. “I did find some things, and the ranger who found me was quite pleased by my haul. I objected, but he was carrying a sharp blade and knew its use far better than I did. In the end, I was grateful not to lose the arm.”

“That was the first time we met,” the Witch said in a voice as dry as dust. “You paid me with one of the few things that ranger didn’t take. It’s a pity that the gods’ light you offered in trade had no power, or I wouldn’t have had to leave you with such a reminder. I do hate clumsy work.”

“I screamed loud enough, as I recall, while you stitched me by hand.” Mother looked at the ruins. “I made sure we never ranged too close to this place. I didn’t want you or Conn near it.”

The Witch turned her head, her fierce eyes unfocused for a moment. “Most of this place was emptied of anything worth taking some time ago. It’s only the deeper sections that might still have artifacts, but there’s no way to get to those places safely. The outer edges were safe enough, and it soothed Ghost to have a place to go where he thought I wouldn’t follow. It wasn’t easy for him to be my apprentice.” The Witch pointed with her staff. “It’s this way. He marked it, if you know where to look.”

The path through the ruins was a winding one, turning in on itself. They were forced to walk in single file most of the way. Conn tapped Gerry’s arm to point to faint scratches. They were low enough to have been made by a child, spirals faded by time and weather until they were nearly invisible. Gerry’s eyes widened as he looked at Conn, the younger man flushing and turning away.

Ghost was not in the little hiding spot. Gerry’s throat tightened as he looked at the well-disguised nook, a few blankets arranged to make a soft place to curl up with a small chink in the roof that let in the light and offered a glimpse of the sky. A lidded box held a book, and the stub of a few candles alongside a flint and tinder. It was a dreamer’s sanctuary, and it felt like Ghost to Gerry.

“What do we do now?” Gerry asked, his voice rough with grief and worry. “I still think this ruin is the place.”

“And I still agree,” the Witch replied. “We split up. You take the boy, and your alpha and I will pair up. We’ll circle around and meet opposite, and if need be, we’ll go farther in once we’ve met.”

“Do you think it wise for both of us to leave them?” Mother asked, his brow creased in a frown.

Gerry opened his mouth to answer, but Conn was faster. “Gerry and I know how each other work. We can do this. You’d be better at protecting the Witch.”

The young hunter saw a flicker of amusement in the Witch’s eyes, most likely at the notion that she needed protecting, but Gerry understood Conn. The kid wanted to prove his contrition to Gerry. This was all he had to offer at the moment.