The Farwalker's Quest (18 page)

Her thoughts cried out to Zeke. How could he possibly free her again? Maybe he'd hurry back to the abbey for help.

The sixth or seventh time Elbert promised Ariel a good morning, she felt Scarl stir.

“Shut up,” he called. “Get some sleep. Or your fine morning won't come.”

She heard a rustle of his pack, then the slosh of a water jar. His hand felt for Ariel in the dark, patting as if to reassure himself that she was still there. Then a cold, wet bit of cloth slipped into the hand that could still reach her face. Wishing she would suffocate before sunrise, she pressed it to the parts of her face that hurt most.

Ariel lay awake even after the men's breathing took on the slow rhythm of sleep. The dawn still came before she was ready.

“Come on out here,” Elbert called cheerfully. “Out in the light. I want to make sure everyone can see.” From the shelter's entry, he beckoned.

His eyes narrowing, Scarl sighed. He lifted Ariel, still ensconced, to her feet.

“Oh, untie her,” Elbert said. “It'll be more fun if she can squirm.”

Scarl took his time stripping off the bridle leather and blanket confining her. She pulled her arms gratefully loose. They'd fallen asleep in the tight constraints. Now they tingled. The feeling matched the apprehension in her belly. Elbert's voice had recovered its amusement, but Ariel didn't trust the dull light in his eyes.

He waited as Scarl escorted Ariel out. When she faltered, Scarl nudged her forward. She considered springing past Elbert down the hill. Falling and hitting her head on a rock might be better than whatever he had in mind.

She took too long to decide. She'd just shifted her weight to
the balls of her feet for a dash when Elbert stepped toward her and grabbed her by the back of her neck.

“Oh, come along, princess.”

He hauled her into the early light and then around the edge of the rock slab. Ariel writhed and tried to jerk free from the clamp on her neck. She struggled without much effect until the spreading grin on Elbert's face told her she was only feeding his pleasure. She made her limbs limp and heavy instead. They matched her heart.

His grin fading, Elbert paused, looking over the slopes.

“So where is your little friend, then? The boy. Do you know?”

Ariel gasped, unable to hide her horror.

“Sure! That secret is out,” Elbert continued. “Are you surprised that we're not as dull as you think?” He shook her, his big hand pinching her neck. The motion throbbed in the swollen bridge of her nose.

“You were seen with him on the horse, at the roadhouse,” Scarl said from behind them. “Ezekiel—am I right?”

Ariel slumped. Without Elbert's grasp she would have dropped to her knees. If they knew about Zeke, she was lost. Her remaining hope and defiance drained out. She should have run and broken her neck while she'd had the chance.

“We'll flush him out,” said Elbert. “For your sake, he'd better be close.” Thrusting Ariel before him, he found a low edge of the slab that wasn't too steep. He half pushed, half lifted her onto the stone, then stepped up himself.

“A good view,” Elbert said. “That's what he'll need.”

Scarl hopped up behind.

Elbert tugged Ariel to the top of the slab. Beyond the edge lay a ravine carved by the avalanche in which the slab had
originally fallen. Certain that Elbert planned to fling her down onto the sharp rubble below, she didn't resist. It would be over soon. She only hoped it wouldn't hurt too much. Her hands clasped the glass bead at her throat. Perhaps she would see her mother.

“That'll do,” Elbert said, yanking her to a stop not far from the edge. He held her by the neck at right angles to the barrel of his chest. Cringing, she turned her head as far away as she could. She didn't want to see on Elbert's face the satisfaction she could hear in his voice. Surveying the meadows and cliffs, she couldn't help but look for Zeke, perhaps hiding behind a rock or a bush. Yet she would rather he be far away at the abbey by now, safe.

“Boy!” Elbert's bellow startled her. “You see this?” Like a dog with a rabbit, he shook Ariel by the neck. “We know you're out there. Can feel you, in fact. That's what Finders do. So no point in hiding. Come out.”

Ariel scanned the mountainside. Other than a falcon in the distance, nothing moved. She wondered if even Misha had been scared away. Then she noticed that both Finders focused on the same clump of thimbleberry bush not far upslope, just beyond the rockfall debris. Unable to spy Zeke in the leaves, she looked away and hoped he'd gotten much farther than that.

“No?” Elbert called again. “Perhaps this will change your mind.”

Expecting a push over the edge, Ariel held what she thought was her last breath.

Instead of shoving, Elbert brushed aside the flap of his coat. His hand returned with the long knife he kept sheathed at his belt. He raised it aloft. It glinted.

Fear slammed into Ariel like something important she had forgotten.

“You see this, as well?” Elbert hollered. His hand slashed downward, wrist flicking. A red line appeared against the dingy white of Ariel's left sleeve. Bemused, she gazed at it. A sting joined the mark along her forearm. Only then did she realize that he'd cut her. Once she knew what he'd done, burning pain slacked her knees. With a yank, Elbert held her upright.

She felt Scarl approach closer behind them, drawn to her blood like a shark.

“There's a bit more blood for us, hey, princess?” Elbert asked. “A bit neater than a fist, I'll admit.”

Ariel clapped her right hand atop the crimson line. It welled up through her fingers. Though he didn't move, Elbert's next roar sounded fuzzy and distant.

“Boy! Show yourself now, while you can! Or watch something you might not want to see!” Elbert's grip shifted from Ariel's nape. His hand clenched her hair. Her chin cranked up to the sky. First she felt a startled twinge in the back of her neck—then the sharp line of pressure at her throat. Elbert's cold blade creased her skin just under her jaw.

Her eyes rolled at the blue sky. “No, Zeke!” she cried, as loud as the angle of her neck would permit. She feared the hoarse cry wouldn't carry. “Don't listen!”

Flick
. The tip of the blade jumped to nip at her cheek before tucking back under her chin. Pain seared instantly this time. A tickle of blood coursed the curve of her jaw.

“Please,” Elbert breathed. “Give me another.”

“Elbert.” Scarl's voice, close behind them, sounded hard. His usual hush had vanished.

“I'm busy,” Elbert snapped. “Wait your turn.”

“I don't think I will.”

A hand cupped Ariel's jaw from behind. It yanked her upward and back, then down away from the knife, even as Elbert lurched half a step forward. She fell amid a tangle of legs.

Eyes darting, bewildered, she flattened herself on the stone. Had Zeke silently sneaked up to attack?

Scarl stepped over her, his left hand planted on Elbert's shoulder. His right hand wrapped the handle of his own knife. It had somehow become sheathed in Elbert's back.

Scarl withdrew it. The blade grated against bone. A splatter of blood hit the rock near Ariel's feet. Grimacing, Scarl plunged the knife back in and out again. Then his left hand gave Elbert a push. The big man crumpled to his knees on the stone, twitched, and tumbled out of sight over the edge.

“I did not want to do that.” Scarl's voice had returned to its usual murmur. “But I guess I've known for a while I would have to.”

Ariel dragged her stunned eyes from the place where Elbert had disappeared. Scarl turned toward her. She skittered back out of reach.

“I'm sorry,” he told her. “But he meant to kill you in any case. I could hear it in his voice. And he most certainly would have killed your friend.”

Uncomprehending, her head spun. Feeling glued to the rock, she watched as he wiped the gory knife on the shin of his pants. The swish made her skin crawl. He tucked the blade back into its proper place at his hip.

“Zeke!” Scarl called. His voice rang across the hillside. “Come out, if you like. You needn't fear me.”

His words unstuck her. “Don't listen!” Ariel cried again.

Scarl turned and raised one eyebrow at her. He took a step toward her. She scrambled farther away. She wanted to jump to her feet, but her legs couldn't seem to remember how.

“Shall I tend to those cuts,” he asked, “or would you rather keep bleeding?”

“I'd rather be dead, too.”

One corner of his mouth drew up. He dipped his head. “Suit yourself.”

To her surprise, he stepped away down the slanted face of the slab, back the way they had come. She watched him jump from the low ledge and disappear around its base toward the nook where they'd slept, which was hidden from view.

Ariel stole a few breaths. Pain wormed its way through her shock. Wet rivulets ran from her forearm to stain her clothes and the stone. She cupped a hand to her bleeding cheek. The only sounds were chittering birds and a slight hiss of wind. The falcon she'd seen a moment before, still in the sky, circled closer. It seemed to belong to some other world.

Ariel edged partway down the rock, wondering exactly where Scarl was. A motion caught her eye. Zeke sidled into view not far away, descending from his hiding spot and circling around the slab toward her. When their eyes met, he gestured, asking if she was okay. She turned her palms up, uncertain, and then pointed in the direction where Scarl had disappeared. Zeke nodded. From his position, perhaps he could see the Finder even now.

Sudden nausea whirled in Ariel's stomach. A black buzz in her head warned she might faint. She scooted on her backside the rest of the way to the ground.

Zeke hurried to meet her. She threw her arms to cling to him, wobbly.

Stretching his fingers to her bloody cheek, he blurted, “I was so afraid I was wrong!”

“Where is he?” Ariel's head swiveled. She tried to decide whether to run, and if so, which direction.

“He climbed around to where Elbert fell and made sure he was dead. And took a few things from his pockets. Now he's just sitting by our cave, waiting.”

“No. I got tired of waiting.” Scarl had slipped, quiet as a breeze, around the front corner of the slab. He folded his arms to regard them. “You look about to pass out,” he told Ariel. “Come and let me make up for some of the abuse that you've taken.”

“You just want to trade me for something and not share what you get.” Ariel's mind had begun working again, and she squared her shoulders alongside Zeke. “But it's two against one now.”

A thin smile touched Scarl's lips. “I'll go you one better than that.” He pulled out his knife again. Knowing how quick he could use it, Ariel quailed. But the Finder merely thrust it into the soil near his feet. He directed his next words to Zeke.

“I'll be sitting there, waiting, as you said.” He held the boy's eyes for a long moment before he retreated again.

Ariel stumbled, weak kneed, to the knife. She found she did not want to touch it. Zeke didn't mind. He pulled it out of the earth and tilted it, appraising.

“I think he's not what he seems,” he told Ariel.

“You don't know him. I do.”

“I was watching. It looked to me like he just saved your life.”

She shook her head, frustrated. Yet his words stuck, and memories flitted through her mind. Not all were welcome, particularly those in which Scarl had helped her stay warm or protected her, even subtly, from Elbert. Such reminders made it
harder to hate him—but hatred had sustained her, and she feared giving it up.

By the time she and Zeke pushed around the corner of the slab, she was angry as well as in pain.

Scarl looked up. He sat on a stone just outside of where they'd slept. A few items from his pack lay scattered at his feet.

“Good. I shouldn't have expected either of you to trust me,” he told Zeke. “I won't give you cause to use it, but keep that blade ready if you like. Come here, Ariel.”

“Go ahead,” Zeke murmured to her.

“Don't worry, I won't grab you.” Scarl shook his head. “I can't trade anything for you. I never expected to.”

“Why did you steal me, then?” Ariel demanded.

“The man who sent us would prefer you were dead. I've been trying to keep you alive. But I didn't get to you before Elbert caught up with me, and neither of us expected someone so young. That changed things.”

“You're not really a Finder, are you?” Zeke asked. Ariel suspected he was remembering something Ash had said.

Scarl shrugged. “I can find. It's not all I know how to do.”

“Like killing people?” she blazed. “And stealing children?”

Scarl rested his elbows on his knees and studied the dirt at his feet. “Both were easier than they should have been,” he said softly. “But I think both had to be done.”

“Why?” Zeke wondered. He and Ariel swapped a glance.

“I'll tell you as much as I know. But it will take time. Please, Ariel—who once would be Healtouch—if you won't let me, you'll have to do something yourself. You only have so much blood.” He gestured to her arm.

She looked down at her crimson-soaked sleeve. Maybe she moved her eyes too rapidly. Certainly she'd had too much strain
that morning and nothing to eat. Her head swam. Her knees buckled next.

Scarl and Zeke both reached to catch her. Scarl's arms were longer and he wasn't occupied with a knife. He settled her against the rock he'd been perched on. She didn't like it, but she no longer had the will to resist.

“Zeke, dig a jar from my pack and fill it with fresh water,” Scarl said. “The stream's just over there. You can take your eyes off me for that long, I promise.”

“I know,” Zeke said, already moving.