Sleepless (Curse of the Blood Fox Trilogy, Book #1) (19 page)

“I don't know
what to tell you, kitten. The unicorn has seen both our minds, and I trust she
knows there is something there that you would not like. I can say that so far I
have answered everything to the best of my knowledge that you have put to me.
However, I'm sure I know things you have not thought to ask. There is a lot I
couldn't tell you if you did.”

“Is it about
your lord's intentions? Or perhaps that fear she was talking about?”

Traken made a
face, standing up quickly. “She was just saying things to play with our minds.
I don't know of any fear... I am certainly not afraid of you, if that is what
you're thinking.”

“Of course
not,” I said, baring my teeth. “That is something I would like to hear, so that
couldn't possibly be the secret.” The grin turned into a grimace as I started
to tighten the bandages around the small wound. I had perhaps dug the dagger in
too far, though at the time it had felt necessary.

“As far as my
master's intentions go, I have told you what I know, and that is nothing. I am
not holding back on that count.”

“Well, that's
a comfort,” I said, and he “tsk”ed me, a dull cheerfulness entering his eyes
again.

“Why wouldn't
it be? I would hardly offer such generous information normally.”

I supposed
that was true. “Why offer it now then?” I asked.

“We are stuck
here, and you still have your weapons whereas I apparently do not have the use
of my magic. I'm at the disadvantage, it seems.”

“That is as
close to admitting defeat that you have ever gotten,” I said, finishing the
knot of bandage around my leg with a flourish. “Did you say it because you
actually meant it, or because you wanted me to forget what we were talking
about?”

“Fascinating,”
he said without answering, leaning towards me. “Your eyes are that exciting
green again. You're being playful, aren't you?”

“Stop looking
at them,” I growled, immediately reaching to pull down my hat... and that's
when I realized it was no longer on my head. I turned, looking around me on the
soft bed of grass. It wasn't there.

“If I'm not
mistaken, I believe that wall is holding it for you,” Traken said, nodding his
head in the direction. Sure enough, I turned to find my hat practically flat
against the giant bushes. I rose awkwardly to my feet, settling the weight
gingerly on my injured leg, and hobbled after it.

“But how did
you get over here?” I asked, tugging. It didn't come off. I tried again, and
this time it shook and sunk even further into the living wall. I felt an
eyebrow go up.

“Traken,” I
said. “Did you see that too?”

“Not at all,”
was his grinning reply.

I paused and
considered my choices, staring at the hat shivering in the leaves.

“I'm about to
do something incredibly stupid,” I finally announced. “Don't judge me for it.”
Then I pushed one hand into the thick wall of leaves. I felt only the prick of
still, hard bark behind my hat, and thought that maybe I had been imagining
things.   

Then I
pulled, and something grabbed my arm and pulled back. The grip was strong and
rough, and when it yanked again it forced me to lean heavily on my injured leg.
I groaned, bearing the weight, and resisted throwing my other hand in to free
the first. Frantic thrashing turned into my only defense.

“Kitten, I
don’t think bringing down the whole bush is going to work,” Traken said
helpfully.

“I’m not
grabbing the bush, it's grabbing me,” I informed him, full of wide-eyed wonder
at my peculiar situation. “I think it's trying to eat me.”

“Eat you?” he
echoed pleasantly, then watched attentively from where he stood as I struggled
awkwardly, teeth clenched. The bush gained an entire inch before I finally gave
a tug powerful enough to tear free. There was a crack, and when I removed my
arm, pieces of curled wood clung to my silky sleeves, as stiff as if they had
grown in that way.

I looked back
up at the wall, and it shivered from top to bottom, as if sighing. There were a
couple more cracking sounds, and then all that was left of my hat disappeared
into it. I stared after it, mouth agape.

“Fascinating,”
Traken said, approaching and leaning in to catch a look at my arm.

“You really
don't want to get close to my fist right now,” I told him with a sidelong
glare. “How much would I win if I bet that you sat there and watched that thing
take my hat in the first place? I suppose killer walls are nothing to warn
someone about.”

“You seemed
to be doing fine, I didn't see the need to add anything,” he said, eyes
twinkling. If it wasn't for that cheerful countenance that had finally been
reestablished, I just might have punched him. As it was, I wanted him in this
good mood. I needed to get out of him what it was the unicorn was holding over
his head. It seemed obvious that whatever it was, Traken knew... or at least
had a good idea. Otherwise he would not have hesitated in using his powers,
just like he hadn't hesitated when the Falcons had threatened him.

“You are
obnoxious,” I told him, cuffing him on the arm and turning to face the exit of
our starting point. “It looks like we're going to have to sniff our way out,
and stay away from the walls.”

“I do not
believe this will be as simple as finding an exit,” he said, and I knew he was
right.

This unicorn
was clearly interested in more than our maze navigating skills.

The following
walk that ensued was rather anticlimactic. The labyrinth was exactly what it
was, and for hours we traversed it, turning left and right and then
backtracking at dead-ends. Nothing popped out at us around corners, there
wasn't even the scent of that hideous girl-to-beast in the air, and the only
noteworthy event was when Traken found out that if we came within a foot of certain
parts of the walls, vines would shoot out to grab us. It was my turn to stand
back and watch with amusement. He seemed a little clumsier in his haggard state
and without his magic at hand, but he was still well enough to escape the
wall’s grasp on his own accord. Watching him, however, I began to wonder if he
would be willingly turn to me for help if the need arose... or would he break
the unicorn's rule and use his magic before it came to that? I hardly knew.

“This is
almost too easy,” I said after we had hit our twentieth dead end and turned
around. Traken glanced at the bush walls on either side of us.

“I see your
point,” he said, fingers stroking the chains around his neck. “The walls are
annoying, but easy to avoid. We have the unicorn's monster to worry about, but
we have our weapons still. If we just keep walking, logic dictates that we'll
find the way out eventually. I had expected more tests, but there has been
nothing. What else could she be planning?” His steps had started to grow a
little more sluggish in the last hour, sometimes clipping the dirt and throwing
chunks of grass. I pretended not to notice, focusing on keeping up with my
injury. It was easy enough to walk on as long as I didn't put too much pressure
on the muscles that had been damaged, but the constant movement was not giving
it a chance to heal either.

“Maybe the
exit is hidden,” I suggested. “Maybe that's the puzzle.”

“Or maybe
there isn't an exit at all,” he countered, looking up. With so many daylight
hours behind us in our search, the sky's colors were beginning to hint towards
purple and gold, the sun sinking behind the clouds towards a horizon neither of
us could see. “We still don't know if the unicorn is as fair as she claims, and
meanwhile we are wasting time.”

“Yes, time
really is our problem here,” I mocked lightly, a smile snaking the corner of my
lips and then retreating again. “I'm sure she knows it, too. The thing is, we
don't even know why we're hurrying. What's the purpose? Is the time limit
significant?” I clicked my tongue thoughtfully. “She said to ask ourselves why
we're here at all.”

“That seems a
little too simple to answer,” he said. I waved my hand at him.

“Is it? I
know why I'm here... people told me I needed to be, it fit with what I wanted,
I came. Why are you here, then? She seemed incredibly interested in you, for
some reason. What did she mean when she said this is what
you
wanted?”

“I have no
idea,” he said, a fabricated sereneness disguising his voice. I rolled my eyes
up towards the sky, swatting back a vine that tried to inch out at me as we
rounded a corner.

“You can at
least answer the first part.”

“What is
there to say?” he countered. “I'm here because my master ordered me to be.”

“Where would
you be right now if you could be anywhere at all?” I asked, shooting him an
easy smile. “No master telling you where to go. Where would you be instead of
here?”

He didn't
answer because he couldn't. Traken did not work in the realm of alternate
realities and what could be, and yet it surprised me that he didn't scoff
openly at my words. We both fell into silence, and my mind wandered back to the
first night of the Week of Colors, to the Angelblood. Where would I have been?
Had he foreseen all of this now, or had I already altered the path in some way
with my decisions? I thought I was done worrying about my choice, but this
secret of Traken's dug a dagger in my chest. Of course he had secrets, but this
one involved me. Was it bad? Was it the thing that spelled my death? I felt my
frustration spill over at the messenger himself... it didn't seem fair for
creatures like Angelbloods to know the future and always speak so cryptically
of it. 

My expression
must have attracted Traken's attention, because he was grinning at me when I
looked over.

“You're angry
again,” he said, pointing at his own eyes. I blinked, trying to will the fiery
colors out of them.

“You pay a
lot of attention to my eyes,” I accused.

“That's
because I can't read your mind and your expressions don't change that much.
This is all I have to go by.”

“Oh? And what
could you possibly want with such knowledge?”

“I can't just
want to know more about my favorite pretend-mercenary?”

“A favorite,
am I? You said soft spots are dangerous.”

The pale
corners of his mouth lifted. “So I did.”

Cold then
hot, indifferent and then almost affectionate; the strange changes in Traken's
mood were hard to keep up with and generally frustrating. I found I was
avoiding his gaze, and felt like a child doing so.

“You're
acting odd today,” I told him again, frowning as I pretended the reason I had
looked away was to examine the spots of red that had appeared in the fresh
bandages on my leg. I had already stopped to replace them twice.

“So are you,”
he said, infinitely less aloof in his state of haggardness. “What was that
sudden willingness to share your life earlier? And then you risked it against a
band of sorcerers for such a ridiculous reason. Care to explain that?”

“It isn't
important, or meaningful,” I said.

He said
something back, but I couldn't hear. His teeth were clenched.

“What?” I
asked.

“I said
you're stubborn,” he repeated. His amulets tinkled as the tip of his shoe
clipped the ground again. “I'd set you on fire if I could. I've learned people
lie less when they're on fire.”

“More empty
threats,” I said, waving a tired hand. There was a moment of silence between
us, our shadows growing longer and darker in the orange light. Then his eyes
cornered the side of my face.

“Is it
possible for you to die?” he asked.

“Huh?” I was
startled into stumbling, catching my weight with the wrong leg. I squelched a
groan, watching more spots of red appear on my bandages.

“A curse that
lengthens your life is different than the lengthened life of a magic-user,” he
said, his eyes taking on a puckish gleam at my reaction. “I have heard of
strange stories of people who could not feel pain, bones that could not break
and hearts that would not stop. You fight like you could die, you act like you
could die, but could you actually die of anything outside your curse?”

“Ah, so you
complain about me sharing, but now you want to know more?” My lips quirked, and
I answered quickly before exasperation could set in on his face. “I can die.
Long life was probably just a side effect of a curse that was meant to be a
quick torture. I've considered these things myself in the past.”

“How do you
know you can die?” he persisted. “Have you checked? There has never been a time
where you should have died, but didn't?”

“I'm not
going to let you test it out, if that's what you're getting at,” I said, still
grinning. It faded when I realized he wasn't sharing in my amusement. “No, I
have almost died a couple times, but the things that saved me were always
outside forces. I have felt that sensation of my body breaking down and easing
away from life. Have you? It's gentle, less scary than you think it would be.”

“You almost
sound like you'd welcome it,” he said. His voice was quiet, or perhaps I just
wasn't listening well enough. I was remembering a starry sky from a long time
ago, a night among many that I thought would be the last. I could see it still,
that bright white moon hanging above my head, and frogs calling over the sound
of blood in my own ears.

“No,” I said
finally, shaking myself from it. “You begin to lose yourself in death. You
start to feel that certain things aren't important anymore, like the anger
you've been holding means nothing. What I feel is what I am. I don't want death
to take that from me before I'm ready.”     

“That
response seems more fitting,” Traken said, but there was little mirth behind
his words. By now the sun had set further and the only thing to see by was the
heavy blue moon rising slowly in the twinkling sky. I watched it as we walked,
listening for the tell-tale rustling of bushes.

“I wonder
what kind of festivals the other towns are having,” Traken said finally, eyes
reflecting the serene, luminous moon as well. “The other two were quite fun,
weren't they?”

“Yes,” I
said, surprised he had brought it up. “I tend to stay away from big
gatherings.”

“Me too,” he
said, fiddling carelessly with one of his rings. “It's a shame, isn't it? That
we live so long and take so little time to enjoy such things. I rather like
celebrations.”

“You should
just go to them then,” I said, chuckling. “I mean, you can magic yourself back
and forth so fast. It isn't like anyone would know.”

“It isn't
that simple. And it's not 'magicking', it's called 'displacing',” he said, eyes
twinkling. “I had to master it for the job of errand boy a long time ago, but
it isn't something every sorcerer can do.”

“Oh, is this
bragging?” I said with a laugh, smacking him in the arm gently in an attempt to
rally his energy. “Do tell. Why can't everyone do it?”

“It takes a
lot of concentration, for one. You have to be able to visualize things well.
Also, you have to be quick. Imagine if you decide to displace yourself right in
the middle of a crowded town. You don't automatically just disappear from where
you are and appear there. Your body dissolves and travels through the air to
where you want to go. It takes only seconds usually, but you have to use that
time to decide where you want to appear. If the place I was originally thinking
of, for instance, suddenly has a person or a cart, I have to instantly move my
destination when I see it or I could end up dead.”

He sounded so
excited while he was talking that I felt a smile creep on to my face. “I have
to congratulate you,” I said. “You make it look so easy. Does the same concept
apply to changing into a dog?”

“Basically.
It takes the same amount of training, you could say, though you're not
dissipating your body but rather using the energies of
Teran
to convince
it that it is not human. You have to get the exact make-up and look of the
animal down. You could end up dying if the organs don't fit together in the
right places. Once you get it, though, you don't forget. I remember, it took me
almost a whole year to....”

Suddenly he
stopped talking, and his lively expression crumpled in on itself. I furrowed my
brow and waited, expecting him to eventually go on, but he didn't. He was
staring at the ground as he walked, and whatever he was thinking seemed to give
him great anxiety. That alone worried me. Traken was not built to wear such
expressions.

“Are you okay?”
I asked, leaning down to try and catch his eyes. When he didn't respond, I
grabbed his arm and gave it a shake. “Traken? What is it?”

He jerked
then, as if he had been struck, and glanced sharply at my hold on his sleeve.
His whole body seemed to shudder underneath my touch.

“I'm fine,”
he breathed softly, and I let go. I did not miss the way his icy eyes followed
my hand, and wondered if I had made him mad.

“You were
saying...?” I prodded, because I believed now that it must be of some
importance. His eyes narrowed, and a devilish glitter entered them.

“That you
should direct all that curiosity into finding a way out.”

I sighed and
rubbed the back of my head. I missed my hat. “I don't know about that. This
seems like a game destined to be endless. What is that unicorn thinking?”

The answer
came to me soon enough. As the night grew older, and the azure moon touched the
highest point in the sky, I realized that we were in trouble. We had spent the
day in constant motion, from battles to traveling, and despite my aversion to
sleep I knew what would happen eventually if there was no way out of this maze.
It was the reason we had not seen the child-monster yet. Why send out a
precious piece when your opponents are fresh and ready to fight? Why not wait
until they are tired from lack of sleep and fighting off the hungry bushes? The
walls were close enough together that we had to keep moving, or fall prey.

Traken was
just as amused as I.

“It seems
we've done exactly what she wanted us to do,” he said, punctuating his words
with a yawn. “Now what?”

“Are you
tired yet?”

“Hardly,” he
said, smile vanishing as we turned a corner and ran straight into another
dead-end. I stopped him before he could turn away.

“What's the
point of continuing when there's probably no way out anyway? I'm used to no
sleep. Take a nap and I'll guard you.”

He sneered.
“I thought we had already gone over this, kitten. If I don't trust my own
master not to stab me in the back while I sleep, why should I trust my
captive?”