"Until The Fall" - 22/48
Title: Until The Fall
Author: Rissy James
Characters: DG, Cain, Azkadellia, Jeb, Glitch, Raw, Tutor, the Queen, Ahamo, and some old & new OCs (updated 03.09.09)
Pairing: Established Cain/DG; established Jeb/Az
Rating: M
Summary: Sequel to " Of Light". After an annual of living in the O.Z., DG sets out to complete the task given to her by the Gale. Soon, she must learn that there is always more to everything than first meets the eye. (updated 03.18.09)
Extras: Cast Page on livejournal.com (updated 05.04.09)
Chapter Twenty Two
As Wyatt Cain left the safe confines of the Hass apartment, he had second thoughts about most everything he was doing. He was rethinking his decision to let DG's plans for Tory to go through; he was rethinking his decision to follow the old man into the west. He was even rethinking his choice to roll over in the bed instead of having DG as she'd offered herself to him.
Pressed for time, he knew there were things that needed to be done, and done fast. He wanted to find a post-master's office; most in this district never closed their doors, and surely enough, he was rewarded when he found a telegraph office with lights blazing bright in the windows. Opening the door, a tiny bell jingling sweetly above his head, he found a wizened old man snoozing in a screened-in booth. The office was no more than a stuffy closet, all transactions taking place through the wire mesh that the post-master now slept behind, sitting up in his chair with legs propped up on the desk.
Cain cleared his throat, and the post-master jumped.
“Oh, excuse me, sir!” he exclaimed, hastily trying to gather himself. A pair of thick spectacles hung from a chain around his neck, and he placed them on his nose. “What can I do for you?”
“Paper, and an envelope,” Cain said brusquely; silently, he took the items he was offered, giving the man behind the screen a few coins in return. On the small ledge beneath the wire mesh, Cain took the pen chained to the counter and scribbled a quick note.
The post-master leaned forward curiously, though the ledge on which Cain wrote was concealed from his sight, for privacy's sake. “Do I recognise you from somewheres?” the post-master queried, tipping his head to one side as he squinted at Cain through his eyeglasses.
Cain shook his head minutely; he didn't look up as he folded the small piece of paper and shoved it into the envelope. He placed it on the counter, where the old man's liver-spotted hand reached through the small hole in the mesh screen. “Seal it,” Cain said gruffly, as the post-master looked curiously at the un-addressed envelope. Though he shot Cain a skeptical look, the post-master did as he was instructed, and Cain slid two more coppery coins across the desk as additional payment. Tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his duster, Cain exited the shop with a tip of his hat.
The street outside was still dark and empty. Growling to himself, he knew he had to make it out of the city and soon, and there was no time to deliver the message to the palace himself. He scanned the streets as he walked toward the South gate, in the direction of the stable where he'd put up his horse for the night. Hass would be following by sky, and his mount would be staying at the rented stable.
The streets between him and the gate, however, seemed destined to remain empty... that is, until Cain heard a grunt and a curse from up an alley. Backtracking a few steps, he saw a little girl, no more than ten annuals old. She was struggling with a bundle of newspapers wrapped in twine, trying to haul them off the back of a delivery truck and cursing up a storm every laboured step of the way. Smiling to himself, as the wisp of a girl heaved up the load of papers with another groan of effort, he walked over.
“Hey, kid,” he called out, and the girl froze, staring at him with suspicious eyes.
“Who're you?” she asked.
Cain came to a rest near her, bending down slightly to be able to lower his voice over the drone of the waking city around them. Ignoring her question, he offered her a small smile instead. “How much are they payin' ya?” he asked, nodding to the idling truck.
“A quarter-plat if I get the whole truck done,” she said, gesturing to the truck, “and stand on the corner all day shouting until I can't talk no more.”
Cain frowned, eyeing the streaks of grime on her face. “How'd you like to do a job for me, then? I can promise to pay better.”
The girl's eyes widened, but she recovered quickly; already hard and shrewd from living by the city's rules, the child had grit and gumption to spare, that much was clear. Cain wondered absently where her parents were, or if they were the one's driving the delivery truck and putting her to work.
“How much better?” she finally asked him with narrowed eyes.
Cain suppressed an urge to roll his own eyes. From the bill-fold in his pocket, he extracted a whole platinum note, and held it up enticingly before the girl. When she reached for it, however, he pulled it back from her snatching fingers, and with his free hand, extracted the sealed envelope from his inside breast pocket.
“Deliver this to the palace for me?”
The little girl laughed. “Unlikely! The guards at the gate'd chase me away faster than you could blink.”
Cain's expression stayed steady, though he was growing impatient. All this negotiation was taking up too much of his remaining time. “The man in the guard-house is named Halstor. You call him by name and you tell him that you've got a message for Glitch. Understand?”
The girl gave a ghost of a nod. She reached out for the platinum, grinning when Cain didn't try to pull it away again. A moment later, she snatched the envelope out of Cain's hand, turned it over to read it, then looked up at him questioningly. “It ain't addressed.”
“No,” Cain said, and he settled his lips into a grim, intimidating line, a stance that had its intended effect; the girl shrunk back a bit, clutching both items in her hands a little tighter. “But the envelope is sealed, darlin', and believe me, they'll notice if it isn't when it arrives. Ya hear me?”
The girl swallowed hard, then nodded with a serious conviction he had yet to see her consider. When she looked up at him, her brown eyes were a little more trusting, as she shared a secret with the stranger before her, seeming to sense that she was doing something of great importance.
“You don't put that in anyone's hand but the man called Glitch,” he said firmly, and she nodded with wide eyes once again. “You'll know him by the scar he's got, right here.” He tipped his hat back to graze his fingers over the center of his forehead, near his hairline. The girl paled, and Cain touched her shoulder lightly. “Get goin' now.”
The girl turned on her heel and set off at a run into the early hours of the still-dark morning, turning a corner and disappearing from his sight. He was headed in the other direction in the next moment, not wanting to be caught by the girl's employers, and asked about her whereabouts.
The wind picked up around him as he left the gates of the city; he buttoned up his duster as protection against the creeping fingers of cold that wanted to sneak inside his clothing, down to his skin, and his very core. August... when did the damn winters start coming so early? he thought bitterly, as a shiver overtook him.
More coinage for the stable-hand who allowed him entry at the ungodly hour; Cain sent the man back to his bed and saddled his own horse. Juniper, to her credit, stayed incredibly still as Cain's cold, numb fingers worked the fastenings of the tack. She looked at him with sad, black eyes as she stood patiently and waited for him to mount.
The ride around the city to the West gate was short, and it was just outside the circle of light cast by the beacons that Cain met the caretaker, who was waiting for him. Jowan wore a black coat that had seen better days, and his gelding was brown, of darker colouring than Cain's own mare.
“You seem to be missing something precious, Captain,” Jowan said with a sly grin, by way of a greeting.
Cain frowned. “She'll be along soon enough, Old Man.”
Jowan gave a deep, and heavy sigh. “There are more dangers lurking on the road than you'd expect, Cain,” he said slowly, looking at Cain with sharp hazel eyes. The wrinkles on his face leant proof to his age, but the confidence in his voice suggested at a deeper virility, a side of the old man that Cain had seen more than once - one kept carefully hidden about the palace.
“What are you goin' on about?” Cain asked cautiously.
Jowan shook his head, watching the West gate intently for signs of DG. “There's a war brewing.”
Cain cleared his throat, the only action he would lend to the surprise he felt at the declaration. “And how can you be sure of that, Old Man?”
Looking away from the gate, Jowan shot Cain a patronizing look. “Boy, my entire life I've stood by and watched. Paid more attention than any man should. I can see the pieces lining up as easily as I can see the suns rising every morning... now that I'm above ground, that is,” he said, and he gave Cain a rueful smile. “And I can tell you this, as certainly as I can tell you that I was sent by the outlanders to keep an eye on that Daughter of Light: war's coming. Maybe its already begun.”
“How do you know?” Cain repeated firmly. Casting a long look at the gate, he saw no sign of anyone, no guard, no princess, no falcon. There was an unsettled feeling in his chest that was beginning to grow and rise, causing his jaw to set and his teeth to grind together. He glared hard at the old man, who seemed unfazed by Cain's growing temper.
“Things are happening,” Jowan said, keeping his words clipped and his tone vague. “A scout arrived just last night in Central to hear updated news on the Gale princess. There I was, worried I'd have nothing to pass along, as I surely couldn't tell him that the princess had been spirited out of the city a week before by her Tin Man bodyguard.”
Cain bit back a lash-out, letting the old caretaker continue. Jowan could see the tensing in Cain's facial features, and he smirked.
“The scout,” Jowan went on, “had some interesting news out of the West. Seems there's a new power vying for the throne of the O.Z.” He allowed a moment for Cain's reaction; the slightest downward twitch at the corner of Cain's mouth seemed to be enough for him. “She, whomever this witch is, has been courting the Commander and his armies, looking for supporters. As we speak, she travels back to the Southeast, back to the forest where she's been hiding out for the last annual with the Longcoats. But you knew about most of this, didn't you?”
Cain frowned, and stared at the old man hard. “Some of this is new information, but not all,” he admitted. He gripped the reins hard; so the road to the west was travelled by the new power, and a contingent of her Longcoats. That changed almost everything, and some of his earlier unease returned with a vengeance.
Jowan shrugged his shoulders. “The scout had quite a bit to say on the subject of the Lady that seeks the aid of the outlanders. When I returned to the palace... why, not two hours later, I've got you, appearing out of nowhere, demanding to know the way west.”
Cain frowned. Mere coincidence... or perhaps, he and DG weren't moving as fast as they needed to on this damn quest. His brain seemed to go into overdrive, considering the news Jowan had just given him - the outlanders were being sought to support the Longcoat army. It was distressing to say the very least - at worst, it could possibly be the worst news he'd yet received in this entire damn ordeal.
Jowan read the disquietude coming from the Tin Man, and offered a small smile. “Outlanders have always remained neutral in the affairs of the human kingdoms surrounding the Outlands - as long as they were paid a tidy sum to do so, of course. However, I don't think the Commander would side against the Gale dynasty when they still hold something he wants most desperately.”
“The stone,” Cain said aloud, though he needn't of.
Jowan nodded grimly. “Its all lining up,” he said. “Coming together. More than coincidence, or Fate. I may just be an old slave, Captain - ” And here he paused, to nod at the shadowed figure that had arrived between the great gate pillars, set at a dead run with her hair flying behind her - DG.
“I serve the Gales, and I do so loyally,” Jowan said, and caught Cain's eyes one final time as the princess approached. “I have watched, and I have reported. However, I think its about time I returned home. I miss my wife. Whether or not the Gales fall is beyond what even I can discover.” And then, faster than Cain could catch - so fast, he thought the old man might be in possession of a little magic of his own - Jowan went from a look of dire uncertainty to one of impassive kindness.
“Your Highness,” Jowan said, as DG came closer, her breath puffing out in clouds before her. She looked up at Cain with hesitant eyes. “Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?”
***
Glitch awoke to frantic banging on his chamber door.
His eyes popped open blearily, as he sat up rigidly in his favourite chair, where he'd fallen asleep after arriving chilled to the bone the night before. The Tower, the meetings with the generals, the fretting of and over the Queen... all buzzing in his brain when he'd walked into his suite of rooms, tossing off his frock coat. After lighting a fire for himself, he'd sat down in his chair to have a good think... and now he was startled out of slumber, and someone was still incessantly knocking at his door.
Getting out of his chair, Glitch stretched some of the stiffness from his back as he made his way to the door. A glance at the clock on the wall as he passed told him it was almost dawn. Who would be at his doorstep at this ghastly hour? He hoped it was no one of consequence... maybe it was someone desperately wanting his help - he liked when he could be someone's hero, fix a situation, do something useful, instead of something... important. It helped to distract him from his real work.
Ya know, Glitch thought to himself, a little amused, its amazing I get anything done at all.
Chuckling, he shook his head at himself, and then - Who in the blazes is at my door? Oh right! The door!
Leaping forward, he jerked the door open. On the other side stood Tutor, his head hanging and his fist raised in preparation for another barrage of knocks. Heaving a sigh, the old teacher raised his watery eyes to land squarely on his friend. “I was about to give up,” he said sadly.
Glitch managed a grin that quickly turned into a yawn. Covering his mouth, he stood back for Tutor to enter, sweeping his free arm in welcome. “To what do I owe the surprise of this very early visit?” he asked, once he'd regained control over his mouth and tongue once more.
Tutor stopped in the center of the room and put his hands in his pockets. A small flag went up in Glitch's brain, and the smartest-man-alive in him began to take over. He's nervous. I recognize that look. He's nervous. Why is he nervous? his mind chattered very quickly.
“It seems that DG managed to pick up some company while out and about,” Tutor said vaguely.
The advisor's darkly sculpted eyebrows perked upwards. “Is that so? What kind of company?” Knowing DG, it could be any manner of interesting character. Some lost soul she felt akin to, she had this awful habit of attaching herself to those in which she felt safety. She trusted on instinct, favoured blind leaps of faith. She could have picked up some renegade Longcoat, or Gods, maybe an outcast Papay...
“A teenager,” Tutor said gravely.
Glitch considered this for a moment. A teenager didn't sound nearly as bad as what he'd been imagining, and he snickered at himself. “That's not so bad, why do you look so - Great Gale!” he exclaimed, putting a hand over his mouth as his jaw involuntarily dropped. Tutor only nodded, his lips set in a thin line, an unhappy curl to one corner of his mouth.
A brief few seconds passed before Glitch was able to regain his composure. “A girl?”
Tutor shook his head. “No, a boy. Tory, is his name. And worse, apparently he's a Slipper.”
Immediately, things began to clear in Glitch's mind, and the actions of his friends made more sense... or at least, he hoped that his own conclusions were right. DG would want to help someone from the Other Side, she'd relate more than most in the O.Z. ever could. And, there was no harm in a teenager, none - Cain would have eventually given in to her nagging about taking an extra person along. After all...
“Hey, can I borrow your razor?”
He tried to shake his head clear of the memories surfacing too quickly for him to fight, momentarily overwhelming him, like a dizzy spell that sends the vision reeling. Knocked off-kilter, he put his head in his hands. Some days... some days, he wondered if his brain might have been better off left pickling in the tank.
Tutor waited patiently, jingling what trinkets he held in his pockets while Glitch tried to restart his thought processes. Finally...
“How much does he know?” Glitch finally asked. His tone had dropped an octave, his voice becoming serious and soft.
Tutor sighed. “Enough, I think it would be safe to say. You can ask him yourself when you meet him today. I have to retrieve him from a safe-house in a few hours.”
Glitch frowned. “Wait... what safe-house? Where are DG and Cain, and um...” He snapped his fingers impatiently at himself. “The feathery one... Corporal Hass. Where are they?” Though he didn't want to come off as demanding, he could feel it radiating off of his very skin, that need for information that pushed barriers of polite conversation aside in favour of shouted questions and dramatic replies. The Tin Man's tactics of 'shoot first, ask later' would have suited him just fine then, but for the fact that the man standing in front of him was his friend and colleague.
“They've already departed Central City,” Tutor said, understanding flickering in his dark eyes, empathy towards the lonely advisor at the man's crestfallen look. Glitch's shoulders fell as he realized the opportunity he'd missed - not understanding, until moments like these, just how much his friends meant to him, how much he ached for DG's easy smiles, Cain's calm and steady presence.
“Well, I'll go with you to pick up the child,” Glitch said, shaking his head sadly, trying to remove the loneliness from his mind, banishing the images of his friends, Cain's hat tipped low over his eyes, DG running barefoot through the palace. “I've got a meeting with Comptroller Spelling later this morning, so... how is ten o'clock for you?”
It was moments later that Glitch was ushering Tutor out the door, only to lean heavily on the wood once the portal was closed. With his eyes shut tight, and his fingers on his temples, he began to rub away the headache that was already beginning. A shower would be in order, and a bit of breakfast... something to give his day a sense of normalcy before he jumped into the duties that needed to be performed.
Bang, bang, bang!
Glitch jumped a good foot in the air, skittering away from the door as a heavy fist knocked again, another succession of three quick, hard bangs. Grumbling to himself now, half-wondering if he was going to get that shower, he yanked the door open impatiently.
On the other side was the gate guard, Halstor Mackenzie, looking exasperated and out of breath.
Glitch raised an eyebrow, and was about to say something, when there was an indignant exclamation that caused him to look down. Struggling in both hands on the guard was a scraggly-looking urchin, all fight and bluster, glaring at him apprehensively.
“Let go of me, will ya? I'm not doing nothing wrong!” The girl in Mackenzie's grip was trying to twist away from him, but he held her fast, looking impatient and fed up with his charge.
“That's a double negative,” Glitch said with a smile, as he ignored the guard and knelt down to the little girl he held by the scruff of the collar. “What's your name?”
“Josey,” she said, eyeing him warily. “What's a double negative?”
Glitch smiled. “Two forms of negation in a single clause make a double negative,” he explained patiently.
The girl's eyes widened, and she took a step backwards towards her captor. Clearly, she thought he was insane. “Are you Glitch?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Depends on the day, Cupcake. What can I do for you?”
Josey considered him for a long moment, before giving her shoulder a good yank away from Mackenzie; Glitch gave the guard a nod, and the girl was released. Stepping forward, she reached out with a work-dirtied finger, and gently touched the scar that peeked out from Glitch's hairline. Crouching down, completely still, he closed his eyes as the girl's small digits brushed over the last remaining physical sign of his headcasing.
With a deep breath, she stepped back again. “Man in a hat paid me a platinum to deliver this to Glitch, at the palace,” she said. She reached into the pocket of her ratty pinafore and pulled out an envelope, the outside of it bearing no writing, only an official seal of Central City in hardened, emerald-green wax. “Seemed kinda important.”
Glitch took the envelope, offering the child another, brighter smile as he did so. “Well, thank you very much,” he said. He dug into his pocket, and came up with a thimble, a long link of paper-clips, a few silver coins, and a crumpled platinum note. Handing the bill to the girl, he watched as her eyes shone at the sight of it. “A job well done! You come back to the palace when you've grown a little older, I'll hire you as my assistant, okay?”
Josey's brown eyes widened, if it were possible, and she smiled winningly at Glitch. “Thanks!” she exclaimed, and then immediately whirled on the guard at her back. “You gonna show me the way outta here, now?”
Glitch gave the guard an order to make sure the girl made it home all right, before he closed the door, listening to her mumble impudently as she was escorted out. Sighing, and shaking his head, Glitch tore open the envelope the moment he'd locked the door behind him. Dropping it on the floor, he unfolded the piece of paper he'd extracted from within, reading as he crossed the room to his window.
Glitch. Headed West to visit old friends. Don't expect to see much of the suns. Keep a close eye on Tory. Kiddo says hi. W.C.
It took him four or five reads of the note before he truly believed he'd grasped what the Tin Man was trying to write. West... old friends... Outlanders. That one was easy enough. But... why would DG and Cain willingly seek out the Commander and his forces? Did they plan on crossing the border, the desert? Was this all part of DG's plan to find a way to destroy the Emerald?
What information could the Outlanders give her about the stone? Was that her motive? After all, it had been the Outlanders that had pulled the Emerald from the earth, all those annuals ago...
The one good thing, as far as Glitch could see, was that his friends were now out of the south, and away from the threats that lingered in the Black Forest. An over-active imagination shoved into his mind the image of his friends being captured by Longcoats... whatever information concerning her test DG had learned in the south, whatever was sending her west, he hoped it would keep her far north of the gorge. If the Longcoats found out a Gale princess was wandering the Ozian countryside with a company of only two guards...
Frustrated, Glitch tapped his knuckles against his own forehead. Don't worry about DG; Cain's got her. They're out of the south now... away from that danger and straight into another one... no, no, don't. You've got meetings to deal with, a teenage Slipper to worry about. Do your part, and allow them to do theirs.
Looking up at the clock, he frowned to see that it wasn't yet six o'clock. The suns hadn't even begun to rise. Gods, it was going to be a long day.
***
From the vantage point of a high crest in the Brick Route, Wyatt Cain scanned the horizon before him, straightening his legs in the stirrups to stand in the saddle as he did so. He felt DG's arms loosen about him, but she didn't let go. She'd been silent most of the trip, barely making any movement and at times making him wonder if she'd fallen asleep. She stayed steady behind him until he'd settled back down, satisfied that the road ahead of them was clear.
“Is everything okay?” she murmured into his ear, as the horse beneath them sidestepped impatiently. Jowan was already a few good paces ahead of them, and old Juniper was eager to catch up and keep going, as if she knew they had a schedule to keep.
Cain sighed, and gave the reins a gentle pull, to turn the mare's direction to give DG a better view of the road that lay ahead of them, and the sky in the distance. “You see those heavy grey clouds sittin' on the horizon?”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, squinting at the thin waves of grey hovering over the hazy outline of the mountains in the far west. Turning away from what lay ahead, she looked behind her, to where the Tower could still be seen, shrunk to model-size. The Brick Route twisted in a pale, golden string behind them; it had carried them safely around the Tower, and they hadn't met up with a single route patrol.
Cain cleared his throat, and DG's head snapped around to look at him. Nodding his head toward the road ahead, he frowned. “Snow. We'll catch up with it sometime tomorrow,” he informed her, before he dug his heels in and the mare set off; he transitioned her into a canter that would overtake the old man within ten minutes. He didn't worry about losing him; the road stretched out, snaking a trail across the countryside that he could see for miles.
His eyes constantly ahead of him, searching the trail; he saw where paths branched off the main road, both those used by small animals, and those used by humans and larger beasts; he saw where the land had been damaged by the presence of people, and where it was thriving. Things his father and uncles had taught him, things he'd passed onto his son... not all knowledge, no, the time for that had never come, had been cut short by the arrival of the Longcoats at the cottage by the creek.
Frowning deeply, and shaking his head at himself, Cain tried to clear the utterly useless nostalgic thoughts of his old life, of his son. Adora had done a worthy job with Jeb during Cain's imprisonment in the suit, and he couldn't ask for much more; Jeb was a fine young man.
It did no good to think of Jeb, or where he might be. Deep in the southeast by now, of that Cain had little doubt. Azkadellia's news of his son's mission had come the night DG had disappeared from Milltown, summoned to Central City by her sister's magic, and set upon the path that would lead her to the Reader, almost a week prior now.
His chance to ask after his son had passed when they'd missed Ambrose in Central City. He'd felt disappointment over that, surely enough, but he'd steadfastly reminded himself there was nothing to be done over it. There were too many other concerns, and Jeb had a good head on his shoulders, and a brave streak a mile wide.
It didn't escape his notice that his son's current mission now rested in the same location that he and DG were eventually headed. His mind stressed greatly the fact that he did not want to meet his son in the Black Forest. Whatever information Jeb was ordered to gather from the 'Coats, Cain found himself hoping that his son's task would be complete before he and DG tried to cross the shield, to the heart of the forest at Deadwood Fall.
It was then that Wyatt Cain found himself hoping - foolishly hoping - that there would come a time when he'd be face to face with his son again, in Central City... when the Emerald was destroyed, and the Longcoat threat neutralized, whatever guiding force behind the enemy imprisoned or killed. Such impossible tasks - Cain had to remind himself that he'd faced worse.
It wasn't more than a minute later that his mount was breaking stride with the old man's. Giving a slight tug on the reins, his mare slowed her pace to match the beast beside her.
“About time you caught up, Boy,” Jowan laughed at him, tossing a toothy grin in the direction of his companions.
Cain tossed him an indulgent smirk. “Don't be wearin' yourself out before we reach the lake, Old Man. Remember, this is the easy part of the journey.”
DG's arms tightened instinctively around him, and a tinge of guilt settled on his shoulders. Though she'd been resting her cheek between his shoulder blades since she'd grown quiet, she sat up straight now, turning her head to face Jowan. Cain imagined that she must have smiled at him, because moments later, the old man's thin lips were stretching into a warm smile, and he gave the princess a small nod.
Side by side, the three continued at a steady, somewhat rushed pace. Cain urged them forward, pushing his mount and that of the caretaker beside him, knowing that they would be hard-pressed to reach Lake Lillay before the suns set in three hours. They'd left the Tower behind, but there was still a good stretch of forested distance between their current position and the lake that was their destination for the night.
The Brick Route made a sharp turn, and the trees had sprouted up so thick close to the road that it was a blind corner. As they rounded it, a strange, dark sight caught Cain's eye immediately. A lone figure sat at a juncture in the road, two miles or so ahead, a horse grazing nearby - a traveller, stopped for a rest.
Cain pulled back on the reins, and his mount slowed down to a walk. It took the old man and his gelding a handful of paces to recover, but soon they'd sidled up to Cain and DG, and Jowan was frowning with impatience.
“What seems to be the problem?” he prompted, arching a brow.
“Traveller up ahead,” Cain said, jerking his chin down the road, to the figure that was coming into slower clarity, more distinguishable now than the terrain on which he waited; the stranger's mount had looked up at the approaching travellers. Jowan stood up in his saddle a moment, squinting, before urging his mount to a quicker trot.
“We keep going,” the old man said firmly.
Cain ignored him, keeping the mare at a slow walk; he twisted slightly in the saddle toward the girl who clung to him. “Hide your face, Darlin',” he said, and moments later a small static charge swept across the light hairs on the back of his neck as she complied. Satisfied, catching a glint of blonde under her hat, he turned away from her.
“What about you?” she asked, and he could hear the effort in her voice to keep it innocent and calm. There was a hidden edge there, an anxiety.
Doing his best to try and quell her worries, he reached slightly behind him to give her thigh a squeeze, where it was molded along his own. “Don't you go worryin' about me,” he told her, letting a smile creep into his voice as she tightened her legs around him. He gave his mare a nudge, and they were off a little faster, catching up to the old man long before they reached the fork in the road.
Cain kept his eyes trained on the figure in the distance until they were within half a mile. He could see better now that the figure - male, by his guess - was sitting on a pile of rocks that had been erected as a type of perch for just the purpose the man was using it for now. He scanned the trees at the junction, on the branch of Brick Route that continued on, and the rough wagon trail that met with it; he searched for anyone hidden, for signs of ambush, but he saw nothing that roused any alarm in him.
As the two horses, and their three riders, approached, the male figure stood - the slight bow to the back, the timidness that radiated from as far as a quarter of a mile told Cain that he wasn't human, but a Viewer. His relief further intensified when, far above the head of the Viewer, a falcon settled down into the branches of a tall pine, folding its wings, and looking down at the character below with curiosity.
It didn't take a moment more before Cain was rolling his eyes at his own stupidity and paranoia; he urged his mare faster and DG gave a little shriek as the horse broke into a run, tightening her arms around him as she was nearly unseated. “What're you doing?” she shouted over the clatter of horseshoes on brick.
“Its the Furball,” he said over his shoulder. Surely enough, the Viewer at the fork in the road stepped forward, and as Cain reined his horse to a halt, he was faced with Raw. First holding out a hand to help DG dismount, and then jumping down himself, Cain let the relief wash over him. As his back was turned, there was another shriek from DG, and then a thud as Raw had all the air knocked out of his chest with the force of her embrace. After DG had extracted herself from Raw, Cain greeted him with a smile and a clap on the shoulder.
“Raw! What are you doing here?” DG exclaimed happily, ignoring the old man as he caught up and dismounted; Cain watched, however, as Jowan gave Raw a small, reverential bow of the head, before stepping back and immediately blending into the scenery, as if he wasn't even there.
Keeping the old man in the periphery of his vision, Cain turned his attention back to DG and Raw.
“Raw sensed friends might need his help,” the empath said cryptically, as he cocked his head from side to side, studying the princess who stood in front of him, grinning madly. It eased Cain greatly, to see her so happy; anything to distract them all from the tasks that lay ahead was welcome.
“I don't know about help, but we're glad for the company!” DG stated with a laugh, reaching out to take Raw's gloved hand. At the touch, Cain watched as the Viewer flinched, a gesture that was completely in his eyes, as he kept his face smiling at the princess who held tight to him.
Cain didn't need a Viewer's heart-sight to know that Raw sensed something when he touched DG.
Sighing heavily, Cain looked upwards to where the falcon perched above their heads, in as natural a state as any other tree or creature they'd come across. He remembered back, to two nights before, as they'd camped before the Papay fields, on their way back to Central. DG had cried out in her sleep for Raw... and now, here was their friend, in the flesh.
The old man's words from the morning came back to haunt him, echoing in his mind.
Lining up... coming together... More than coincidence, or Fate...
Whatever he knew, or didn't know, the old man had one thing right: things were starting to happen, and probably had been for a while. It was only now, with that strange look in Raw's eyes when he held DG's hand, that Cain started to truly pay attention.
Author's Note: I love updates, do you love updates? I know that's a lot of plot, and not a lot of fluff. I'll try to make it up to you soon, okay? Leave me a review if you've got a spare minute!
Table Of Contents:
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10
11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20
21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30
31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40
41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48
Author: Rissy James
Characters: DG, Cain, Azkadellia, Jeb, Glitch, Raw, Tutor, the Queen, Ahamo, and some old & new OCs (updated 03.09.09)
Pairing: Established Cain/DG; established Jeb/Az
Rating: M
Summary: Sequel to " Of Light". After an annual of living in the O.Z., DG sets out to complete the task given to her by the Gale. Soon, she must learn that there is always more to everything than first meets the eye. (updated 03.18.09)
Extras: Cast Page on livejournal.com (updated 05.04.09)
Chapter Twenty Two
As Wyatt Cain left the safe confines of the Hass apartment, he had second thoughts about most everything he was doing. He was rethinking his decision to let DG's plans for Tory to go through; he was rethinking his decision to follow the old man into the west. He was even rethinking his choice to roll over in the bed instead of having DG as she'd offered herself to him.
Pressed for time, he knew there were things that needed to be done, and done fast. He wanted to find a post-master's office; most in this district never closed their doors, and surely enough, he was rewarded when he found a telegraph office with lights blazing bright in the windows. Opening the door, a tiny bell jingling sweetly above his head, he found a wizened old man snoozing in a screened-in booth. The office was no more than a stuffy closet, all transactions taking place through the wire mesh that the post-master now slept behind, sitting up in his chair with legs propped up on the desk.
Cain cleared his throat, and the post-master jumped.
“Oh, excuse me, sir!” he exclaimed, hastily trying to gather himself. A pair of thick spectacles hung from a chain around his neck, and he placed them on his nose. “What can I do for you?”
“Paper, and an envelope,” Cain said brusquely; silently, he took the items he was offered, giving the man behind the screen a few coins in return. On the small ledge beneath the wire mesh, Cain took the pen chained to the counter and scribbled a quick note.
The post-master leaned forward curiously, though the ledge on which Cain wrote was concealed from his sight, for privacy's sake. “Do I recognise you from somewheres?” the post-master queried, tipping his head to one side as he squinted at Cain through his eyeglasses.
Cain shook his head minutely; he didn't look up as he folded the small piece of paper and shoved it into the envelope. He placed it on the counter, where the old man's liver-spotted hand reached through the small hole in the mesh screen. “Seal it,” Cain said gruffly, as the post-master looked curiously at the un-addressed envelope. Though he shot Cain a skeptical look, the post-master did as he was instructed, and Cain slid two more coppery coins across the desk as additional payment. Tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his duster, Cain exited the shop with a tip of his hat.
The street outside was still dark and empty. Growling to himself, he knew he had to make it out of the city and soon, and there was no time to deliver the message to the palace himself. He scanned the streets as he walked toward the South gate, in the direction of the stable where he'd put up his horse for the night. Hass would be following by sky, and his mount would be staying at the rented stable.
The streets between him and the gate, however, seemed destined to remain empty... that is, until Cain heard a grunt and a curse from up an alley. Backtracking a few steps, he saw a little girl, no more than ten annuals old. She was struggling with a bundle of newspapers wrapped in twine, trying to haul them off the back of a delivery truck and cursing up a storm every laboured step of the way. Smiling to himself, as the wisp of a girl heaved up the load of papers with another groan of effort, he walked over.
“Hey, kid,” he called out, and the girl froze, staring at him with suspicious eyes.
“Who're you?” she asked.
Cain came to a rest near her, bending down slightly to be able to lower his voice over the drone of the waking city around them. Ignoring her question, he offered her a small smile instead. “How much are they payin' ya?” he asked, nodding to the idling truck.
“A quarter-plat if I get the whole truck done,” she said, gesturing to the truck, “and stand on the corner all day shouting until I can't talk no more.”
Cain frowned, eyeing the streaks of grime on her face. “How'd you like to do a job for me, then? I can promise to pay better.”
The girl's eyes widened, but she recovered quickly; already hard and shrewd from living by the city's rules, the child had grit and gumption to spare, that much was clear. Cain wondered absently where her parents were, or if they were the one's driving the delivery truck and putting her to work.
“How much better?” she finally asked him with narrowed eyes.
Cain suppressed an urge to roll his own eyes. From the bill-fold in his pocket, he extracted a whole platinum note, and held it up enticingly before the girl. When she reached for it, however, he pulled it back from her snatching fingers, and with his free hand, extracted the sealed envelope from his inside breast pocket.
“Deliver this to the palace for me?”
The little girl laughed. “Unlikely! The guards at the gate'd chase me away faster than you could blink.”
Cain's expression stayed steady, though he was growing impatient. All this negotiation was taking up too much of his remaining time. “The man in the guard-house is named Halstor. You call him by name and you tell him that you've got a message for Glitch. Understand?”
The girl gave a ghost of a nod. She reached out for the platinum, grinning when Cain didn't try to pull it away again. A moment later, she snatched the envelope out of Cain's hand, turned it over to read it, then looked up at him questioningly. “It ain't addressed.”
“No,” Cain said, and he settled his lips into a grim, intimidating line, a stance that had its intended effect; the girl shrunk back a bit, clutching both items in her hands a little tighter. “But the envelope is sealed, darlin', and believe me, they'll notice if it isn't when it arrives. Ya hear me?”
The girl swallowed hard, then nodded with a serious conviction he had yet to see her consider. When she looked up at him, her brown eyes were a little more trusting, as she shared a secret with the stranger before her, seeming to sense that she was doing something of great importance.
“You don't put that in anyone's hand but the man called Glitch,” he said firmly, and she nodded with wide eyes once again. “You'll know him by the scar he's got, right here.” He tipped his hat back to graze his fingers over the center of his forehead, near his hairline. The girl paled, and Cain touched her shoulder lightly. “Get goin' now.”
The girl turned on her heel and set off at a run into the early hours of the still-dark morning, turning a corner and disappearing from his sight. He was headed in the other direction in the next moment, not wanting to be caught by the girl's employers, and asked about her whereabouts.
The wind picked up around him as he left the gates of the city; he buttoned up his duster as protection against the creeping fingers of cold that wanted to sneak inside his clothing, down to his skin, and his very core. August... when did the damn winters start coming so early? he thought bitterly, as a shiver overtook him.
More coinage for the stable-hand who allowed him entry at the ungodly hour; Cain sent the man back to his bed and saddled his own horse. Juniper, to her credit, stayed incredibly still as Cain's cold, numb fingers worked the fastenings of the tack. She looked at him with sad, black eyes as she stood patiently and waited for him to mount.
The ride around the city to the West gate was short, and it was just outside the circle of light cast by the beacons that Cain met the caretaker, who was waiting for him. Jowan wore a black coat that had seen better days, and his gelding was brown, of darker colouring than Cain's own mare.
“You seem to be missing something precious, Captain,” Jowan said with a sly grin, by way of a greeting.
Cain frowned. “She'll be along soon enough, Old Man.”
Jowan gave a deep, and heavy sigh. “There are more dangers lurking on the road than you'd expect, Cain,” he said slowly, looking at Cain with sharp hazel eyes. The wrinkles on his face leant proof to his age, but the confidence in his voice suggested at a deeper virility, a side of the old man that Cain had seen more than once - one kept carefully hidden about the palace.
“What are you goin' on about?” Cain asked cautiously.
Jowan shook his head, watching the West gate intently for signs of DG. “There's a war brewing.”
Cain cleared his throat, the only action he would lend to the surprise he felt at the declaration. “And how can you be sure of that, Old Man?”
Looking away from the gate, Jowan shot Cain a patronizing look. “Boy, my entire life I've stood by and watched. Paid more attention than any man should. I can see the pieces lining up as easily as I can see the suns rising every morning... now that I'm above ground, that is,” he said, and he gave Cain a rueful smile. “And I can tell you this, as certainly as I can tell you that I was sent by the outlanders to keep an eye on that Daughter of Light: war's coming. Maybe its already begun.”
“How do you know?” Cain repeated firmly. Casting a long look at the gate, he saw no sign of anyone, no guard, no princess, no falcon. There was an unsettled feeling in his chest that was beginning to grow and rise, causing his jaw to set and his teeth to grind together. He glared hard at the old man, who seemed unfazed by Cain's growing temper.
“Things are happening,” Jowan said, keeping his words clipped and his tone vague. “A scout arrived just last night in Central to hear updated news on the Gale princess. There I was, worried I'd have nothing to pass along, as I surely couldn't tell him that the princess had been spirited out of the city a week before by her Tin Man bodyguard.”
Cain bit back a lash-out, letting the old caretaker continue. Jowan could see the tensing in Cain's facial features, and he smirked.
“The scout,” Jowan went on, “had some interesting news out of the West. Seems there's a new power vying for the throne of the O.Z.” He allowed a moment for Cain's reaction; the slightest downward twitch at the corner of Cain's mouth seemed to be enough for him. “She, whomever this witch is, has been courting the Commander and his armies, looking for supporters. As we speak, she travels back to the Southeast, back to the forest where she's been hiding out for the last annual with the Longcoats. But you knew about most of this, didn't you?”
Cain frowned, and stared at the old man hard. “Some of this is new information, but not all,” he admitted. He gripped the reins hard; so the road to the west was travelled by the new power, and a contingent of her Longcoats. That changed almost everything, and some of his earlier unease returned with a vengeance.
Jowan shrugged his shoulders. “The scout had quite a bit to say on the subject of the Lady that seeks the aid of the outlanders. When I returned to the palace... why, not two hours later, I've got you, appearing out of nowhere, demanding to know the way west.”
Cain frowned. Mere coincidence... or perhaps, he and DG weren't moving as fast as they needed to on this damn quest. His brain seemed to go into overdrive, considering the news Jowan had just given him - the outlanders were being sought to support the Longcoat army. It was distressing to say the very least - at worst, it could possibly be the worst news he'd yet received in this entire damn ordeal.
Jowan read the disquietude coming from the Tin Man, and offered a small smile. “Outlanders have always remained neutral in the affairs of the human kingdoms surrounding the Outlands - as long as they were paid a tidy sum to do so, of course. However, I don't think the Commander would side against the Gale dynasty when they still hold something he wants most desperately.”
“The stone,” Cain said aloud, though he needn't of.
Jowan nodded grimly. “Its all lining up,” he said. “Coming together. More than coincidence, or Fate. I may just be an old slave, Captain - ” And here he paused, to nod at the shadowed figure that had arrived between the great gate pillars, set at a dead run with her hair flying behind her - DG.
“I serve the Gales, and I do so loyally,” Jowan said, and caught Cain's eyes one final time as the princess approached. “I have watched, and I have reported. However, I think its about time I returned home. I miss my wife. Whether or not the Gales fall is beyond what even I can discover.” And then, faster than Cain could catch - so fast, he thought the old man might be in possession of a little magic of his own - Jowan went from a look of dire uncertainty to one of impassive kindness.
“Your Highness,” Jowan said, as DG came closer, her breath puffing out in clouds before her. She looked up at Cain with hesitant eyes. “Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?”
***
Glitch awoke to frantic banging on his chamber door.
His eyes popped open blearily, as he sat up rigidly in his favourite chair, where he'd fallen asleep after arriving chilled to the bone the night before. The Tower, the meetings with the generals, the fretting of and over the Queen... all buzzing in his brain when he'd walked into his suite of rooms, tossing off his frock coat. After lighting a fire for himself, he'd sat down in his chair to have a good think... and now he was startled out of slumber, and someone was still incessantly knocking at his door.
Getting out of his chair, Glitch stretched some of the stiffness from his back as he made his way to the door. A glance at the clock on the wall as he passed told him it was almost dawn. Who would be at his doorstep at this ghastly hour? He hoped it was no one of consequence... maybe it was someone desperately wanting his help - he liked when he could be someone's hero, fix a situation, do something useful, instead of something... important. It helped to distract him from his real work.
Ya know, Glitch thought to himself, a little amused, its amazing I get anything done at all.
Chuckling, he shook his head at himself, and then - Who in the blazes is at my door? Oh right! The door!
Leaping forward, he jerked the door open. On the other side stood Tutor, his head hanging and his fist raised in preparation for another barrage of knocks. Heaving a sigh, the old teacher raised his watery eyes to land squarely on his friend. “I was about to give up,” he said sadly.
Glitch managed a grin that quickly turned into a yawn. Covering his mouth, he stood back for Tutor to enter, sweeping his free arm in welcome. “To what do I owe the surprise of this very early visit?” he asked, once he'd regained control over his mouth and tongue once more.
Tutor stopped in the center of the room and put his hands in his pockets. A small flag went up in Glitch's brain, and the smartest-man-alive in him began to take over. He's nervous. I recognize that look. He's nervous. Why is he nervous? his mind chattered very quickly.
“It seems that DG managed to pick up some company while out and about,” Tutor said vaguely.
The advisor's darkly sculpted eyebrows perked upwards. “Is that so? What kind of company?” Knowing DG, it could be any manner of interesting character. Some lost soul she felt akin to, she had this awful habit of attaching herself to those in which she felt safety. She trusted on instinct, favoured blind leaps of faith. She could have picked up some renegade Longcoat, or Gods, maybe an outcast Papay...
“A teenager,” Tutor said gravely.
Glitch considered this for a moment. A teenager didn't sound nearly as bad as what he'd been imagining, and he snickered at himself. “That's not so bad, why do you look so - Great Gale!” he exclaimed, putting a hand over his mouth as his jaw involuntarily dropped. Tutor only nodded, his lips set in a thin line, an unhappy curl to one corner of his mouth.
A brief few seconds passed before Glitch was able to regain his composure. “A girl?”
Tutor shook his head. “No, a boy. Tory, is his name. And worse, apparently he's a Slipper.”
Immediately, things began to clear in Glitch's mind, and the actions of his friends made more sense... or at least, he hoped that his own conclusions were right. DG would want to help someone from the Other Side, she'd relate more than most in the O.Z. ever could. And, there was no harm in a teenager, none - Cain would have eventually given in to her nagging about taking an extra person along. After all...
“Hey, can I borrow your razor?”
He tried to shake his head clear of the memories surfacing too quickly for him to fight, momentarily overwhelming him, like a dizzy spell that sends the vision reeling. Knocked off-kilter, he put his head in his hands. Some days... some days, he wondered if his brain might have been better off left pickling in the tank.
Tutor waited patiently, jingling what trinkets he held in his pockets while Glitch tried to restart his thought processes. Finally...
“How much does he know?” Glitch finally asked. His tone had dropped an octave, his voice becoming serious and soft.
Tutor sighed. “Enough, I think it would be safe to say. You can ask him yourself when you meet him today. I have to retrieve him from a safe-house in a few hours.”
Glitch frowned. “Wait... what safe-house? Where are DG and Cain, and um...” He snapped his fingers impatiently at himself. “The feathery one... Corporal Hass. Where are they?” Though he didn't want to come off as demanding, he could feel it radiating off of his very skin, that need for information that pushed barriers of polite conversation aside in favour of shouted questions and dramatic replies. The Tin Man's tactics of 'shoot first, ask later' would have suited him just fine then, but for the fact that the man standing in front of him was his friend and colleague.
“They've already departed Central City,” Tutor said, understanding flickering in his dark eyes, empathy towards the lonely advisor at the man's crestfallen look. Glitch's shoulders fell as he realized the opportunity he'd missed - not understanding, until moments like these, just how much his friends meant to him, how much he ached for DG's easy smiles, Cain's calm and steady presence.
“Well, I'll go with you to pick up the child,” Glitch said, shaking his head sadly, trying to remove the loneliness from his mind, banishing the images of his friends, Cain's hat tipped low over his eyes, DG running barefoot through the palace. “I've got a meeting with Comptroller Spelling later this morning, so... how is ten o'clock for you?”
It was moments later that Glitch was ushering Tutor out the door, only to lean heavily on the wood once the portal was closed. With his eyes shut tight, and his fingers on his temples, he began to rub away the headache that was already beginning. A shower would be in order, and a bit of breakfast... something to give his day a sense of normalcy before he jumped into the duties that needed to be performed.
Bang, bang, bang!
Glitch jumped a good foot in the air, skittering away from the door as a heavy fist knocked again, another succession of three quick, hard bangs. Grumbling to himself now, half-wondering if he was going to get that shower, he yanked the door open impatiently.
On the other side was the gate guard, Halstor Mackenzie, looking exasperated and out of breath.
Glitch raised an eyebrow, and was about to say something, when there was an indignant exclamation that caused him to look down. Struggling in both hands on the guard was a scraggly-looking urchin, all fight and bluster, glaring at him apprehensively.
“Let go of me, will ya? I'm not doing nothing wrong!” The girl in Mackenzie's grip was trying to twist away from him, but he held her fast, looking impatient and fed up with his charge.
“That's a double negative,” Glitch said with a smile, as he ignored the guard and knelt down to the little girl he held by the scruff of the collar. “What's your name?”
“Josey,” she said, eyeing him warily. “What's a double negative?”
Glitch smiled. “Two forms of negation in a single clause make a double negative,” he explained patiently.
The girl's eyes widened, and she took a step backwards towards her captor. Clearly, she thought he was insane. “Are you Glitch?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Depends on the day, Cupcake. What can I do for you?”
Josey considered him for a long moment, before giving her shoulder a good yank away from Mackenzie; Glitch gave the guard a nod, and the girl was released. Stepping forward, she reached out with a work-dirtied finger, and gently touched the scar that peeked out from Glitch's hairline. Crouching down, completely still, he closed his eyes as the girl's small digits brushed over the last remaining physical sign of his headcasing.
With a deep breath, she stepped back again. “Man in a hat paid me a platinum to deliver this to Glitch, at the palace,” she said. She reached into the pocket of her ratty pinafore and pulled out an envelope, the outside of it bearing no writing, only an official seal of Central City in hardened, emerald-green wax. “Seemed kinda important.”
Glitch took the envelope, offering the child another, brighter smile as he did so. “Well, thank you very much,” he said. He dug into his pocket, and came up with a thimble, a long link of paper-clips, a few silver coins, and a crumpled platinum note. Handing the bill to the girl, he watched as her eyes shone at the sight of it. “A job well done! You come back to the palace when you've grown a little older, I'll hire you as my assistant, okay?”
Josey's brown eyes widened, if it were possible, and she smiled winningly at Glitch. “Thanks!” she exclaimed, and then immediately whirled on the guard at her back. “You gonna show me the way outta here, now?”
Glitch gave the guard an order to make sure the girl made it home all right, before he closed the door, listening to her mumble impudently as she was escorted out. Sighing, and shaking his head, Glitch tore open the envelope the moment he'd locked the door behind him. Dropping it on the floor, he unfolded the piece of paper he'd extracted from within, reading as he crossed the room to his window.
Glitch. Headed West to visit old friends. Don't expect to see much of the suns. Keep a close eye on Tory. Kiddo says hi. W.C.
It took him four or five reads of the note before he truly believed he'd grasped what the Tin Man was trying to write. West... old friends... Outlanders. That one was easy enough. But... why would DG and Cain willingly seek out the Commander and his forces? Did they plan on crossing the border, the desert? Was this all part of DG's plan to find a way to destroy the Emerald?
What information could the Outlanders give her about the stone? Was that her motive? After all, it had been the Outlanders that had pulled the Emerald from the earth, all those annuals ago...
The one good thing, as far as Glitch could see, was that his friends were now out of the south, and away from the threats that lingered in the Black Forest. An over-active imagination shoved into his mind the image of his friends being captured by Longcoats... whatever information concerning her test DG had learned in the south, whatever was sending her west, he hoped it would keep her far north of the gorge. If the Longcoats found out a Gale princess was wandering the Ozian countryside with a company of only two guards...
Frustrated, Glitch tapped his knuckles against his own forehead. Don't worry about DG; Cain's got her. They're out of the south now... away from that danger and straight into another one... no, no, don't. You've got meetings to deal with, a teenage Slipper to worry about. Do your part, and allow them to do theirs.
Looking up at the clock, he frowned to see that it wasn't yet six o'clock. The suns hadn't even begun to rise. Gods, it was going to be a long day.
***
From the vantage point of a high crest in the Brick Route, Wyatt Cain scanned the horizon before him, straightening his legs in the stirrups to stand in the saddle as he did so. He felt DG's arms loosen about him, but she didn't let go. She'd been silent most of the trip, barely making any movement and at times making him wonder if she'd fallen asleep. She stayed steady behind him until he'd settled back down, satisfied that the road ahead of them was clear.
“Is everything okay?” she murmured into his ear, as the horse beneath them sidestepped impatiently. Jowan was already a few good paces ahead of them, and old Juniper was eager to catch up and keep going, as if she knew they had a schedule to keep.
Cain sighed, and gave the reins a gentle pull, to turn the mare's direction to give DG a better view of the road that lay ahead of them, and the sky in the distance. “You see those heavy grey clouds sittin' on the horizon?”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, squinting at the thin waves of grey hovering over the hazy outline of the mountains in the far west. Turning away from what lay ahead, she looked behind her, to where the Tower could still be seen, shrunk to model-size. The Brick Route twisted in a pale, golden string behind them; it had carried them safely around the Tower, and they hadn't met up with a single route patrol.
Cain cleared his throat, and DG's head snapped around to look at him. Nodding his head toward the road ahead, he frowned. “Snow. We'll catch up with it sometime tomorrow,” he informed her, before he dug his heels in and the mare set off; he transitioned her into a canter that would overtake the old man within ten minutes. He didn't worry about losing him; the road stretched out, snaking a trail across the countryside that he could see for miles.
His eyes constantly ahead of him, searching the trail; he saw where paths branched off the main road, both those used by small animals, and those used by humans and larger beasts; he saw where the land had been damaged by the presence of people, and where it was thriving. Things his father and uncles had taught him, things he'd passed onto his son... not all knowledge, no, the time for that had never come, had been cut short by the arrival of the Longcoats at the cottage by the creek.
Frowning deeply, and shaking his head at himself, Cain tried to clear the utterly useless nostalgic thoughts of his old life, of his son. Adora had done a worthy job with Jeb during Cain's imprisonment in the suit, and he couldn't ask for much more; Jeb was a fine young man.
It did no good to think of Jeb, or where he might be. Deep in the southeast by now, of that Cain had little doubt. Azkadellia's news of his son's mission had come the night DG had disappeared from Milltown, summoned to Central City by her sister's magic, and set upon the path that would lead her to the Reader, almost a week prior now.
His chance to ask after his son had passed when they'd missed Ambrose in Central City. He'd felt disappointment over that, surely enough, but he'd steadfastly reminded himself there was nothing to be done over it. There were too many other concerns, and Jeb had a good head on his shoulders, and a brave streak a mile wide.
It didn't escape his notice that his son's current mission now rested in the same location that he and DG were eventually headed. His mind stressed greatly the fact that he did not want to meet his son in the Black Forest. Whatever information Jeb was ordered to gather from the 'Coats, Cain found himself hoping that his son's task would be complete before he and DG tried to cross the shield, to the heart of the forest at Deadwood Fall.
It was then that Wyatt Cain found himself hoping - foolishly hoping - that there would come a time when he'd be face to face with his son again, in Central City... when the Emerald was destroyed, and the Longcoat threat neutralized, whatever guiding force behind the enemy imprisoned or killed. Such impossible tasks - Cain had to remind himself that he'd faced worse.
It wasn't more than a minute later that his mount was breaking stride with the old man's. Giving a slight tug on the reins, his mare slowed her pace to match the beast beside her.
“About time you caught up, Boy,” Jowan laughed at him, tossing a toothy grin in the direction of his companions.
Cain tossed him an indulgent smirk. “Don't be wearin' yourself out before we reach the lake, Old Man. Remember, this is the easy part of the journey.”
DG's arms tightened instinctively around him, and a tinge of guilt settled on his shoulders. Though she'd been resting her cheek between his shoulder blades since she'd grown quiet, she sat up straight now, turning her head to face Jowan. Cain imagined that she must have smiled at him, because moments later, the old man's thin lips were stretching into a warm smile, and he gave the princess a small nod.
Side by side, the three continued at a steady, somewhat rushed pace. Cain urged them forward, pushing his mount and that of the caretaker beside him, knowing that they would be hard-pressed to reach Lake Lillay before the suns set in three hours. They'd left the Tower behind, but there was still a good stretch of forested distance between their current position and the lake that was their destination for the night.
The Brick Route made a sharp turn, and the trees had sprouted up so thick close to the road that it was a blind corner. As they rounded it, a strange, dark sight caught Cain's eye immediately. A lone figure sat at a juncture in the road, two miles or so ahead, a horse grazing nearby - a traveller, stopped for a rest.
Cain pulled back on the reins, and his mount slowed down to a walk. It took the old man and his gelding a handful of paces to recover, but soon they'd sidled up to Cain and DG, and Jowan was frowning with impatience.
“What seems to be the problem?” he prompted, arching a brow.
“Traveller up ahead,” Cain said, jerking his chin down the road, to the figure that was coming into slower clarity, more distinguishable now than the terrain on which he waited; the stranger's mount had looked up at the approaching travellers. Jowan stood up in his saddle a moment, squinting, before urging his mount to a quicker trot.
“We keep going,” the old man said firmly.
Cain ignored him, keeping the mare at a slow walk; he twisted slightly in the saddle toward the girl who clung to him. “Hide your face, Darlin',” he said, and moments later a small static charge swept across the light hairs on the back of his neck as she complied. Satisfied, catching a glint of blonde under her hat, he turned away from her.
“What about you?” she asked, and he could hear the effort in her voice to keep it innocent and calm. There was a hidden edge there, an anxiety.
Doing his best to try and quell her worries, he reached slightly behind him to give her thigh a squeeze, where it was molded along his own. “Don't you go worryin' about me,” he told her, letting a smile creep into his voice as she tightened her legs around him. He gave his mare a nudge, and they were off a little faster, catching up to the old man long before they reached the fork in the road.
Cain kept his eyes trained on the figure in the distance until they were within half a mile. He could see better now that the figure - male, by his guess - was sitting on a pile of rocks that had been erected as a type of perch for just the purpose the man was using it for now. He scanned the trees at the junction, on the branch of Brick Route that continued on, and the rough wagon trail that met with it; he searched for anyone hidden, for signs of ambush, but he saw nothing that roused any alarm in him.
As the two horses, and their three riders, approached, the male figure stood - the slight bow to the back, the timidness that radiated from as far as a quarter of a mile told Cain that he wasn't human, but a Viewer. His relief further intensified when, far above the head of the Viewer, a falcon settled down into the branches of a tall pine, folding its wings, and looking down at the character below with curiosity.
It didn't take a moment more before Cain was rolling his eyes at his own stupidity and paranoia; he urged his mare faster and DG gave a little shriek as the horse broke into a run, tightening her arms around him as she was nearly unseated. “What're you doing?” she shouted over the clatter of horseshoes on brick.
“Its the Furball,” he said over his shoulder. Surely enough, the Viewer at the fork in the road stepped forward, and as Cain reined his horse to a halt, he was faced with Raw. First holding out a hand to help DG dismount, and then jumping down himself, Cain let the relief wash over him. As his back was turned, there was another shriek from DG, and then a thud as Raw had all the air knocked out of his chest with the force of her embrace. After DG had extracted herself from Raw, Cain greeted him with a smile and a clap on the shoulder.
“Raw! What are you doing here?” DG exclaimed happily, ignoring the old man as he caught up and dismounted; Cain watched, however, as Jowan gave Raw a small, reverential bow of the head, before stepping back and immediately blending into the scenery, as if he wasn't even there.
Keeping the old man in the periphery of his vision, Cain turned his attention back to DG and Raw.
“Raw sensed friends might need his help,” the empath said cryptically, as he cocked his head from side to side, studying the princess who stood in front of him, grinning madly. It eased Cain greatly, to see her so happy; anything to distract them all from the tasks that lay ahead was welcome.
“I don't know about help, but we're glad for the company!” DG stated with a laugh, reaching out to take Raw's gloved hand. At the touch, Cain watched as the Viewer flinched, a gesture that was completely in his eyes, as he kept his face smiling at the princess who held tight to him.
Cain didn't need a Viewer's heart-sight to know that Raw sensed something when he touched DG.
Sighing heavily, Cain looked upwards to where the falcon perched above their heads, in as natural a state as any other tree or creature they'd come across. He remembered back, to two nights before, as they'd camped before the Papay fields, on their way back to Central. DG had cried out in her sleep for Raw... and now, here was their friend, in the flesh.
The old man's words from the morning came back to haunt him, echoing in his mind.
Lining up... coming together... More than coincidence, or Fate...
Whatever he knew, or didn't know, the old man had one thing right: things were starting to happen, and probably had been for a while. It was only now, with that strange look in Raw's eyes when he held DG's hand, that Cain started to truly pay attention.
Author's Note: I love updates, do you love updates? I know that's a lot of plot, and not a lot of fluff. I'll try to make it up to you soon, okay? Leave me a review if you've got a spare minute!
Table Of Contents:
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