Chapter 22

“Never, something has happened.”

Never sat up, blinking at the morning light where it streamed through the open curtains. “What?”

Muka’s silhouette resolved. His expression was one of concern but not fear. “Someone wishes to hire us.”

Never ran his hands through his hair. “Really?” He found his water flask and drank, emptying it. “That’s certainly a relief; I haven’t had steady work for quite some time.”

“It’s an escort job for the Temple.”

Never tapped a finger on the flask a moment, then grinned. “This is actually an opportunity, Muka.”

“Never, I don’t—”

“Trust me. Where better to hide but in plain sight? We already know Iri’s charm works. Where are they travelling?”

He folded his arms. “East. To the forest.”

Never chuckled. “Merciful Pacela, this is a true stroke of fortune. Why don’t we hear them out?”

Muka muttered something beneath his breath but he eventually gave a short nod. “I’ll bring Ayuni; they want to meet in the stable.”

Never was already jamming his few belongings back into his pack. He splashed water over his face from the basin, then left the key with the innkeeper on his way out, speaking only a few words. But the fellow didn’t even blink – the black fang held.

A misty cloud covered half the sky, rolling down from the north, but the stable was bright enough to see the muddy tracks from previously-departed travellers, along with Muka and Ayuni standing with a pair of temple men. They did not have the bearing of warrior-monks, despite the daggers at their belts. Instead, their soft voices and sun-burnt skin spoke of folk better accustomed to the indoors.

Horses were being readied beyond the pair; saddlebags and cinch straps checked by drivers and guards, these men more heavily armed with bows or tyrants. Others were tying down ropes on the loaded wagons, three in total.

“We’re already two men short,” one of the monks was saying. “And now that Daisoa has fallen ill too, we can’t afford to be picky. They’ll have to do.”

“Greetings,” Never said.

The second man scowled at Never. “About time.”

Muka gestured to Never. “As I said, we two can easily make up for whatever shortcomings you feel my daughter presents to taking this task – one which you requested of us.”

The oh-so-cheerful monk pointed at Muka. “Fine, but don’t slow us down – and if we’re set upon by bandits, you do your share, got it?”

“Of course – so long as when we reach Yalinamo you pay our share.”

“Bah.” The man stormed off.

The first monk offered a wheezing laugh. “Ah, please forgive his temperament. He’ll settle once we’re on the road.” Then he joined his fellow at the lead wagon. The second already had something of a formation beside it, which left the role of rear guard. Only one other fellow had led his mount beside it. The driver was leaning on his knees, whip in hand.

“Ready for an adventure?” Never asked Ayuni and Muka.

Ayuni nodded, her eyes were alight. Perhaps it was the thought of new experiences, new freedom, or the notion of heading closer to her mother, but Muka only said, “Phoenix watch over us.”

They mounted up, Ayuni taking one of the pack horses, and the line of wagons left the roadside and started east.

Never let his mount slow so he could watch Ayuni, who was riding easily, her face uptilted to enjoy the sun. Muka rode beside her, focused on the surrounding fields. Never couldn’t stop a flash of guilt – his own diligence was a little lacking.

“Welcome, friend.” The other guard spoke quietly.

It was the young gambler with the sad expression from the night before. “Thank you,” Never replied.

“It was kind of you to replace Daisoa.”

“He seemed quite unwell; is he going to recover?” Never asked. So far, the charm seemed to be holding up, despite the relative distance from Muka and Ayuni. Perhaps his accent was getting better or maybe the general surroundings and the act of being hired, of other’s acceptance, was enough.

“In time, I’m sure. I found him to be rather delicate for a caravan guard.”

“It didn’t seem like his first job,” Never said. He looked to the wagon, where stacks of wooden boxes marked with the Phoenix were arranged. “So what are we protecting?”

“The monks do not say.” He met Never’s gaze, and once more, Never was struck by the fellow’s mournful expression. “Secrets weigh heavily upon a man, do they not?”

“Indeed,” Never replied, unable to stop a slight frown. Was the fellow probing, did he suspect something was amiss?

Yet the guard’s next words were to excuse himself. “I trust you won’t take undue offence if I keep my own company for a time?”

“Please.”

The fellow nodded then turned to gaze at the scenery, his bearing at ease and more, somehow exuding the sense that he was now actually alone. Never tapped his horse’s flanks with his heels and joined Ayuni and Muka, sharing his experience.

Muka glanced over his shoulder. “Perhaps the charm was not wholly effective and he only sensed something unusual about you?”

“Perhaps he is a monk himself,” Ayuni said. “I know many within the temple that are quite pensive.”

“He bears watching in any event,” Muka said.

Never nodded; he planned to do just that. And for the rest of the day he did, but the man did not slip to the head of the line to speak with the monks, nor did he speak again even when Muka or Ayuni rode near.

At night, each group of guards, including the driver, sat around their own fire – posting watch and eating quietly. Again, their morose friend added nothing, but the driver, a rangy man from the north named Esiang, was more jovial. In a cheerful voice he shared stories of time as a driver, including once when he swore he saw the Great Phoenix.

“Far to the north, near the mouth of the Soh River, a long time ago. I was a green lad, my first journey for a merchant. I knew my work when it came to the animals, but nothing had prepared me for the terrible cruelty of man. Our wagons had been attacked earlier, and though we drove the bandits away I saw so much blood that I thought I’d never sleep again. And so I was awake, staring up at the stars, when I saw it – a figure flying across the sky – like a person with wings!” His eyes were alight with the memory, as though he’d not forgotten a single detail. “I remember the statues mother had when I was young, too. It was a woman with wings of flame, and what I saw, it was just like that. But I think it was a man flying, though I can’t be sure. I can find peace when I need to now, by thinking back to that night; and that’s how I know the Great Phoenix is real.”

Questions followed his tale but Never did not add his own; such troubling thoughts were best left unsaid. Based on Esiang’s age, there was every chance such a mysterious shape had been Father. What was he doing in Kiymako, so long ago? Back then, it wouldn’t have been a search for Ayuni’s mother. Perhaps a different mate?

By the morning of their third day on the eastern highway – still three more to Yalinamo, the fields had given way to undulating grasslands dotted with hills and occasional stone relics. Once, during their noon meal, the wagons stopped near enough to one that Never sought permission from the ever-pleasant Garugi to examine one. The man complained but did eventually wave him off.

“Want to take a closer look then?” he asked Ayuni and Muka where they sat on a pair of bone-white logs.

Ayuni stood. “Yes.”

Muka stretched his legs out, taking another bite from a large strawberry. “Why don’t you two enjoy yourselves? I’ve seen them before.”

A crumbling ridge of overgrown grass led up to a small hilltop where the ancient statue rested. Unlike the more common phoenix statues he’d seen in Kiymako, this was something else. Half-buried in earth, it was a large dome covered in small rectangular protrusions. Whoever had carved it had taken great care to make them regular in size too. Many had been worn down by wind and rain. Other pieces were broken and chipped but enough remained to give the impression of some long-forgotten creature sleeping in the earth.

Ayuni knelt, reaching out to touch the stone. The moment her fingers brushed the surface she jerked them back. “It’s cold – like it’s frozen.”

Never joined her, reaching out with the back of his birch hand, and flinched at a sudden heat. “Like fire for me,” he said. The Amouni came to mind – his usual suspicion, but there was little else to learn without a shovel. And even before Garugi, Never didn’t care for blisters. He stood. “This might be something to investigate later; it does seem odd – whether it’s Amouni or not.”

“Our forefathers have been everywhere, haven’t they?”

“They once ruled all the lands,” he said with a nod. “Though the pattern doesn’t strike me as Amouni, necessarily.”

“Like your knife?” she asked.

He drew the Quisoan blade. “This one?”

“Yes. Is that what the triangles represent?”

He handed her the weapon. “No, this is from Mother’s homeland – Quisoa. A young woman gave me this during the invasion.”

Ayuni ran her fingers over the pattern a moment before holding it out but Never shook his head. “Why don’t you keep it? You wear no blade. Think of it as a last line of defence.”

“I’m not sure it would feel right to carry a weapon; I want to heal others.”

He smiled. “Then think of it as a gift from your brother who doesn’t want to worry.”

Ayuni blinked back sudden tears, running her fingers again over the blade almost tenderly. “I... they didn’t let me keep anything; nothing was really mine in the temple.” She returned his smile. “Thank you.”

“Let’s return then,” he said.

Ayuni joined him and they started back toward the wagons. A breeze picked up, tugging at her hair. She pushed it behind her ears, catching several stray strands. So far, Iri’s colour had not worn off. “Never, can I ask you something?”

“Please.”

“Why did you come to Kiymako now? I’ve been wondering, how did you learn of me?”

“Before he died, Snow told me that our father had been here, that he was sure you existed. Snow showed me a vision of Father painting the rune for protection on a Temple door.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “He did that for me?”

“Yes. A touching gesture from the man who abandoned us both,” Never said, unable to keep a sour note from his voice.

“Oh, Never. I didn’t mean—”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. Forget about me, I’m still angry. Tell me, is Yalinamo a city of walkways suspended in the trees?”

“Yes. It’s quite old. Apparently, its foundations were built by an older people.”

“Then that is the temple I saw in my vision. Father left you there because he trusted the temple. Or perhaps because it was closer. I wonder.”

“I cannot speak for our father, but I will say there are some I trust in the Divine Temple of Yalinamo, people who raised me until Brother Hiruso came to take me. After that, I was shipped off from temple to temple.”

“And why did he come?”

“I cut myself in the garden while pruning a juniper tree. We were trying to save it. The next day, Sister Sikoka woke me, overjoyed. The tree was green again, returning with much vigour. Of course, she was duty bound to report what had happened to Mondami and after that, Brother Hiruso arrived and the tests began.”

Never frowned. Sister Sikoka ought to have put her duty to Ayuni first. But he said only, “You are strong to have survived such a dark time.”

“I had help then and I have you now. That makes it easier.”

“Sister Sikoka?”

“And others. But she was the one to teach me everything mother didn’t get the chance to share. She even told me about foreign lands and their wonders, like the ice tower in the Vadiya Mountains or the Silver City in Hanik. I know there’s no way, but I wish I could see Sikoka again when we pass through.”

“We might be able to send her a message, at least,” Never said. He paused at a commotion from below – Garugi was motioning from them to hurry, as the wagons were lining up to leave.

Never raised a hand in acknowledgement. “I guess we better not keep him waiting, he’s likely to lose both his arms if he keeps that up.”

“I think you’re right – maybe we should slow down,” she said, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Never laughed.