Chapter Two

Consciousness slammed into his skull with the delicacy of a hammer.

Wyn sat up so fast he thought his head would explode. Stifling a groan, he gripped the side of the cart and eased back into the hay. Bile burned his throat and he concentrated on not throwing up or passing out. After a few moments, the nausea receded and he dared to open his eyes. 

Angry gray clouds churned overhead, allowing only a few tiny beams of sunlight to slip through. Amazed that he could even see the sky above, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air. He wanted to weep at the sweetness of its scent. It had been so long since he’d breathed something other than filth and decay that he couldn’t get enough of its clean bouquet. He gulped in air until his head buzzed and he was sure this wasn’t a dream. 

Slower this time, he levered himself upright, alert to any signs of the pain and nausea that had assailed him only minutes before. Satisfied he wouldn’t pass out, he raised his hand to his face only to realize he was no longer chained. Shocked, he stared at his damaged wrists where the iron cuffs had rubbed them raw. Scabs were already forming over the injuries and they looked sore and angry. He inspected his other wrist to see it was in the same condition. All he needed was several days in the sea and he’d be fully healed.

He frowned. What had transpired to convince Evi to give him up?

Images flashed through his mind. The door opening, people standing outside, peering in at him, one holding a torch high to ensure a good look. And then the rage. The fury that had swept through him when he saw Evi standing next to the beautiful dark-haired woman had almost brought him to his knees.

He rubbed his forehead where it felt like it would split in two. He’d never seen her before, he was sure of it. Who was she and why had she been with a monster like Evi? Was she one of his kind? A slaver? 

The wagon hit something in the road, causing pain to ricochet through his skull, and he gritted his teeth against the resulting wave of nausea. He closed his eyes and willed his stomach to settle.

Gathering strength, he turned his head until he saw the slim figure on the wagon seat above. Concealed in a bulky cloak with the hood pulled up, he couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. He caught the distinctive tang of Alyrian pipe tobacco, which probably meant the driver was a man. Who’d ever heard of a woman smoking a pipe? Whoever he was, he wasn’t very big and it would only take a matter of seconds to overtake him... When Wyn got the energy to do so, that is. 

With his head aching, he pulled the blankets up to his shoulders and burrowed into the warmth of his cocoon. For now, he was more than content to enjoy the brief luxury of clean hay and fresh air. There would be time enough to find out how he’d ended up in the back of this little cart rather than chained in the wagon. 

For now he could just...be.

Wyn pulled his right arm from beneath the blankets and grimaced when he saw the layer of dirt and dried blood that coated his skin. His nails were blackened with grime and his knuckles were battered. Spreading his fingers, he examined the thin, gossamer skin that webbed his hand from the first knuckle down to his palm. Barely noticeable to the human eye, the webbing served no purpose on land, though in the sea it enabled his kind to move like lightning across the sky. 

His fist clenched and he let his arm drop to his side. This webbing and that between his toes had marked him as different from humans. It, along with his own stupidity, had resulted in his capture and subsequent enslavement a year ago.

But now he was free, or away from his tormentors at least.

He closed his eyes. He knew he should get up, overpower his driver and steal off with the cart, but he didn’t have the energy to do so. The comforting rocking sensation of the wagon—when they weren’t hitting the bumps, that is—combined with the rich scent of pipe smoke and freshly baked bread…

Bread?

His stomach gave a loud growl and he shot a look up at the driver. If he’d heard, he gave no indication as neither his position nor his speed changed. Releasing a pent-up breath, Wyn looked under the shelf created by the wagon seat. There were two baskets and a large leather satchel secured there. Propping himself on one elbow, he pushed back the cloth covering the nearest basket and a myriad of tantalizing scents rose from its depths. If his nose didn’t deceive him, it was filled with food and a goodly amount at that. 

Keeping his gaze glued on the driver’s back, he pawed through the basket until he came to a wedge of something he thought was cheese and hunk of coarse brown bread. Desperately hungry, he stuffed the food into his mouth as quickly as he could. The nutty flavor of the bread blended with the sharp tang of the cheddar and he wanted to sing with happiness. Never had such simple fare tasted so good. 

After he had finished his snack, he reached in again and located a large chunk of cooked sausage wrapped in greasy paper. He bit into it and the combined flavors of pork and sage burst across his tongue. Chewing as fast as he could, he devoured the hunk of meat.

When he finished, he rummaged once more until he pulled out something soft that was wrapped in thin waxy paper. He unwrapped it and held it to his nose. Pastry? He bit into it and this time he did groan as the flavor of ripe raspberries exploded in his mouth. The flaky tart was plump with fruit and walnuts and liberally sweetened with honey. He polished off the pastry and longed to lick his fingers clean, but stopped himself at the last second, remembering their filthy state. He opted to wipe his hands on his equally dirty shirt—or what was left of it. 

Replete for the first time in many moon cycles, Wyn was content. He curled up in his hay and blanket cocoon and closed his eyes. When the wagon stopped, he would assert his will over the driver, but until then his full belly was making him sleepy.

Finally, his luck had changed.

 

 

 

Nova couldn’t prevent a grin when she heard the soft snore from the bed of the cart. She’d known her companion had been awake for the past hour or so but she’d opted to say nothing. Instead she’d pulled out her pipe and lit it, preferring to enjoy a smoke as she’d waited for him to make the first move. He’d surprised her. Judging from his earlier aggression, she’d thought for sure he’d make his presence known immediately. Instead he’d opted to gorge himself and go back to sleep.

Typical. 

A rumble of thunder turned her attention to the clouds that roiled overhead. They’d grown angrier with each passing hour. The sun had risen many hours before, but rather than getting brighter as the day had progressed, it had grown darker with the approaching storm. Time for the nooning meal had long since passed and the wind was picking up from the west, the breeze thick with the scent of coming rain. Inclement weather or not, it wasn’t time to stop for a break, especially since she knew they were being followed.

She took a final drag on her pipe. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Evi or his men. Seeing that there were only two of them on horseback, she’d guess it was his men as Evi had been quite put out at losing. She grimaced. The man was a fool. The first rule of gambling was to never bet more than one could stand to lose. She’d learned that the hard way. It was obvious to her that he hadn’t wanted to lose this so-called servant of his. No doubt he thought he could reclaim him with little struggle from her.

He was sadly mistaken.

Nova tapped out the dying embers from her pipe before stowing it in her pocket. As she did so, she glanced over her shoulder at the long bumpy road they’d just covered. In the distance, she could see the two riders. They traveled at a pace to match hers and didn’t appear to be in any hurry to overtake her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Considering a horse alone was much faster than her little cart, their behavior was suspicious. 

She faced forward and gave the reins a jiggle, causing the brown mare to pick up her pace. Ahead the road stretched flat and wide for another mile or so and beyond that the woods closed in. In the stretch of dense trees and undergrowth, losing her unwanted companions would be no problem. There were numerous paths branching off the main one and it would be easy to slip through any of the villages and leave them far behind.

She glanced over her shoulder at the man still sleeping in the bed of the cart, though she could see little more than matted hair and the tip of his nose. “I hope you’re worth the trouble,” she muttered.

The last thing she wanted was to slow her journey home, but she couldn’t lead these men right to her doorstep. She wouldn’t be safe nor would her companion. Besides, she was determined that nothing of her former life would intrude upon the new one she was about to create.

Nothing.