Artemis Invaded

When they were a few hours’ ride out from Ridgewood, Adara slipped from Tarnish’s saddle and handed the reins to Griffin. “Sand Shadow and I will go ahead. I’ll find out if there is room for us at my parents’ farm and, if not, where we can set up our tents.”

She saw Griffin glance at Tarnish, obviously wondering why she didn’t continue riding, then, as obviously, answering the question for himself. Adara slipped away without offering confirmation.

So Griffin’s figured out I’m nervous, that I’d like to be able to sneak in and check the place out first. What of it? My home is elsewhere now. Wouldn’t it be rude of me to assume my parents could take me and my friends in at such short notice? True, once I knew our route, I did write ahead to warn them, but …

Sand Shadow flicked Adara an image of the two of them skulking in enemy-filled darkness through the maze of passages beneath Mender’s Isle. Even without words, the inference was obvious: “You did that. Surely you have nothing to fear here.”

“Are you so certain?” Adara muttered. “The Old One’s minions could only kill me. The blows family deal out can cut into the soul.”

Sand Shadow huffed in exasperation. During the year and a few months since they had bonded, they had visited Adara’s family only once, and that briefly. They had gone for the wedding of Adara’s younger brother, Orion, to the daughter of an itinerant river trader who had thought settling down on a farm would be ever so much nicer than living on a boat. Using the puma kitten as an excuse, Adara might not have even attended the wedding, but Bruin had insisted.

The puma’s memories of the event were the enjoyable ones of a kitten who had been much fussed over. Adara’s were less so. She also had been fussed over—both for having passed her training and for having bonded with Sand Shadow. However, that fuss had reminded her once again how she was set apart from her family. Nikole was married and had little ones of her own. Hektor and Elektra had come in for quite a lot of teasing about when would their weddings be … No one had teased her.

I felt myself a stranger. Many of those attending the wedding had never been farther than Spirit Bay; most had never been even that far. Most followed some variation on the work done by their parents and grandparents, back to the days of the seegnur. I was a huntress.

Had lingering memories of the events surrounding Orion’s wedding led Adara to that imprudent tumble with Terrell the following midsummer? Had she been seeking proof that she was marriageable, even if she chose not to marry?

She shoved those thoughts away, concentrating on circling back and around the village, on finding cover where any but a hunter would have sworn there was none. In time, she came to her family’s holding, out some distance from the village itself. She swarmed up a tree. Those dots on the road would be Terrell, Griffin, and the mounts. They would need to thread through the village, so she still had time, although wending through memories had slowed her feet.

Sending Sand Shadow an image to wait for her—her family’s livestock would not be acclimated to the scent of a puma as were the animals who resided near Shepherd’s Call—Adara loped down the hillside to the sprawling farmhouse she barely remembered as “home.” A sheepdog barked, more in warning than in threat. At the dog’s summons, a figure stepped out the back door to see what had roused the creature. For a moment, Adara didn’t know him, then he turned slightly and the lines of cheek and jaw were familiar.

“Hey, there, Hektor,” she greeted her youngest brother. “You’ve grown again.”

Hektor—now, Adara scrabbled through her memory, seventeen?—knew her right away. “Adara!”

His pleasure at seeing her was so obvious that Adara felt ashamed of her snake pit mind. This was the brother born after she had gone to live with Bruin, yet he treated her arrival as a cause for celebration.

The patter of feet on wooden floorboards, a flooding out, arms and hugs and kisses. Her mother, Neenay Weaver, grabbing her, holding her as if she were still five, and not half a head again taller.

“We’d heard something of what happened in Spirit Bay, even before your letter came. We heard you were involved. Willowee’s father brought news, turned his boat right around as soon as rumor reached him at one of the river ports.”

Adara’s father, Akilles, tall and lean like her, hair dark as her own, though showing silver now. (Had that all come on since the wedding?) Wordless except for the hug he gave her and the brightness of tears in his eyes. Sister Nikole, baby on her hip, a toddler by the hand, grin brightening her face. Little Elektra, budding into womanhood, unsure in her young woman’s dignity whether to join in or stand back. Orion, holding his Willowee by the hand.

When the tumult ebbed, Adara asked her mother, “I wrote that I am traveling with two friends. We have three horses and a mule as well. Is there room for us?”

“Plenty.” Neenay gave a casual wave of her hand. “You know we built a cottage for Nikole and Stanis when the babies came. None of us could sleep for all the fussing. We just finished a cottage for Orion and Willowee…”

Adara noticed for the first time that her brother’s wife was rounding out in front.

“Folks in Ridgewood are saying we should rename the area Weaverville,” Hektor cut in with a chuckle.

“So there’s plenty of room in the main house for you and your friends. We had good moisture last winter, so you can put your animals to pasture. There’s space in the stables, too. Your choice.”

Adara smiled. “Cat now and a big one, too. Yes. Sand Shadow is with me, but she’s staying out in the hills for now. Her scent frightens livestock who don’t know her.”

Elektra’s eyes asked a question she was too uncertain to ask. Adara answered it.

“Would you like to greet her? She’s been wondering if anyone remembers her. She remembers all of you with great fondness.”

Adara felt that alienating uncertainty again, determinedly pushed it away. “I don’t know everything she thinks, but we’ve been practicing. I know enough to know she remembers her visit here and being fussed over. She understands that she’d scare all the hens and cows, so she’s fine with staying in the hills, but I’m sure she’d like a visit.”

An image from Sand Shadow flickered into her mind: Terrell and Griffin passing through Ridgewood, turning onto the road toward her family’s lands.

“Can I come with you?” Elektra asked, glancing between her mother and Adara.

Neenay smiled. “I think we can handle clearing up from supper without you, Elektra, but mind that you make up for it tomorrow, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” answered both sisters at once, then giggled as if they weren’t ten years apart in age and nearly strangers.

Not surprisingly, Terrell and Griffin were a great hit. True, Nikole did give Adara a long look or two, as if wondering what games her sister was playing with two such handsome fellows, but both men had the gift of making themselves pleasant. Griffin was introduced by the tale they had evolved when they had stayed with the Old One. He was a member of a family who had lived isolated in the mountains somewhere vaguely near Shepherd’s Call. They had become friends when Terrell and Adara had escorted him to Spirit Bay because he had desired to meet the Old One.

Questions regarding the upheaval in Spirit Bay—the flooding of the Old One’s Sanctum and that revered personage’s disappearance—were so based on garbled rumors that answering them was easy enough without going into uncomfortable details. When some element of the conversation became awkward, Terrell showed a factotum’s gift for turning the discussion in other directions while appearing to give a complete reply. The full truth would mean explaining too much that must be kept secret, including Griffin’s true origin and the existence of the unfortunates who had been born as a result of the Old One’s experimentation.

When, toward the end of evening, Neenay Weaver beckoned for Adara to come with her, Griffin was deep in conversation with Akilles, Willowee, and Orion about the manner in which this region was governed. Willowee, who had grown up on one or another of her family’s watercraft, proved to have a sophisticated view of the differences of rulership in theory and in practice.

Terrell held the rest spellbound with tales of his travels as he had trained to be a factotum. Watching her littlest sister, Adara wondered if Elektra—like Sashi in Shepherd’s Call—was counting through the months until she would be fifteen and of legal age to propose marriage.

“I’m taking Adara out to show her what we’ve done since she was last here,” Neenay called. “We’ll shut up the hens while we’re out.”

Adara suspected that Neenay was taking this opportunity to probe after which—if either—of the young men might be a candidate for future son-in-law. The grin that quirked Hektor’s mouth and a knowing look on Nikole’s face confirmed her guess. However, when they were safely away, and Neenay had led Adara to the pleasant, well-lit building that was her new workshop, Neenay surprised her.

“Adara, the time has come for me to tell you things I hoped I would never need to raise.”

Adara was about to explain that she understood where babies came from and that she knew to take precautions, when Neenay went on.

“I never told you why we fostered you with Benjamin Hunter. However, now that the Old One has been discredited I feel I must. Why don’t you sit there?” Neenay gestured to a heap of cushions patchworked from what must be scraps of her own weaving. “I’m more comfortable behind my loom.”

She slid into the chair, and her hands began moving the shuttle and the beater bar through their routine with a practiced rattle and thump.

Adara thought, Putting a wall between us again, even if the wall is only spun wool. But what is this about the Old One?

As if reading her daughter’s mind, Neenay said, “Would you be surprised if I told you that the Old One tried to play matchmaker for me, some years before you were born?”

“I did. When I was about Elektra’s age, my parents sent me to Spirit Bay to stay with my mother’s older sister. Auntie had a shop there—still does—that specialized in exotic dyes as well as weaving. I was among her students. The Old One was one of her customers, for he loved the subtle colors she blended. Indeed, he often brought her oddities—fresh shellfish, peculiar nuts, exotic flowers. They would discuss for as much as a half hour at a time how a certain color might be extracted and the best way to fix it.”

Neenay sighed, her gaze distant, her fingers moving as if they had eyes of their own. “Given your recent experiences, I don’t expect you to believe me but, for those of us who worked in the shop, those visits were like visits from a king. The girls in particular could get quite silly, for the Old One was—I suppose ‘is,’ for he doesn’t change—very handsome in his own way. His slim build and measured manner were quite a contrast to the farm boys most of us had grown up with. He was even grander than the rich tradesmen who came to buy my aunt’s cloth.”

Adara reassured her. “The Old One is not my type, but, yes, I believe you. He can be very compelling.”

Neenay’s lips shaped a small smile of gratitude. “The Old One was not my type either but, nonetheless, I was flattered to be among the small circle he chose to talk with from time to time. One day, he brought with him a young sailor, a handsome fellow with raven-dark hair and light brown eyes. This Jor asked me to go dancing with him that evening. He was quite flattering in his attentions for the few days he was in town, before his ship sailed again.”

Adara felt dread rise, making her heart flutter. As if in answer to her apprehension, Sand Shadow leapt in through the open window and settled at her side.

Burying her hand in the puma’s plushy fur, Adara asked, “Do you mind her here? She circled to avoid the flocks.”

Neenay shook her head. “She has grown, hasn’t she? No. I don’t mind. Now, let me go on … While Jor was off to sea, the Old One came by the shop. He found some pretext to get me alone, then asked me what I thought of his young friend. I said I liked Jor well enough and that seemed to please him.

“The Old One hinted that he would smile upon our making a match, that he might even take an interest in our children—arrange for their education and suchlike. I wasn’t at all certain I wanted to wed a sailor—they’re gone so often—but Jor was in port often and it was fun to go about with him. He was a free spender, though somehow I gathered that the Old One helped line his pockets.

“I might even have married Jor—my aunt was pleased with my work and hinted that someday I might become her partner. That would make staying in Spirit Bay more inviting. However, fate had strung my loom with other threads. During one of his visits, Jor brought with him his cousin—Akilles was his name. They were much alike in appearance, but as unalike in temper as whirlwind and a hearth fire. Since you are Akilles’s daughter, you know which lad I wed.

“Jor eventually married one of the other girls from the shop. The Old One lost interest in me as soon as my preference for Akilles was known, but he remained very interested in Blithe and Jor. Even after I had moved to Ridgewood with Akilles, Blithe and I corresponded. She had her first child about the same time I had Nikole, her second a year later.

“Now I must skip a few years. Jor was lost at sea when you were about two. However, the Old One continued his patronage of Blithe. He was very interested in the children, especially the second, a boy who showed some signs of being adapted. The Old One offered to adopt the boy. Blithe refused. The Old One offered to send the boy to a special school he had founded for adapted children. She refused this also. Then the boy vanished—apparently drowned, although from birth he had swum like a fish.

“Blithe was not stupid and she had a weaver’s mind for patterns. When she learned that other children had disappeared, other children in whom the Old One had shown an interest, she grew nervous. She grew more nervous when she learned that no one seemed to know anything about his special school. Soon after Blithe, too, vanished, along with her older child.

“Most people accepted the story that Blithe had moved to be away from the seas that had taken both her husband and her son. I said nothing but, based on her letters, I think she was either killed by the Old One or given a chance to be with her son if she agreed to cut off all contact with the outside world.

“When you, Adara, showed signs of being adapted, I hoped no one would notice. You, however, were a determined little thing. There was no keeping you in if you wanted out—and you would insist on roaming about after dark. The bias against the adapted is not strong in Ridgewood. We are too close to those areas like Spirit Bay and Crystalaire that the seegnur frequented, and the seegnur favored the adapted. But I feared for you. What if the Old One took an interest in you? Would you, too, vanish?

“I confided in Akilles, showed him Blithe’s letters. Though it broke our hearts to do so, we decided the best way to protect you was to hide you in plain sight. Bruin trained hunters. Far from being biased against the adapted, he was adapted himself. Moreover, we learned that he protected his students as closely a mother bear does her cubs. If you could be safe anywhere, you would be safe there.”

“But,” Adara protested, “Bruin was the Old One’s own student. He revered him.”

“That is what we meant by hiding you in plain sight. In Bruin’s care, the Old One would know of you, but he would also know that he could not touch you without risking alienating one of his most prestigious and well-known followers—a man who was known for teaching and protecting the adapted.”

“I see.” Adara fell silent, feeling reality as she had always known it shifting and reshaping. “You never told me.”

Neenay shook her head. “We couldn’t, because Bruin was the Old One’s follower. We had no proof, only suspicions.”

“You cut me off,” Adara said, not able to rid herself of her lifelong belief.

“Did we?” Neenay smiled sadly, her fingers wrapping around the shuttle. “Did you see matters that way? We felt you cut us off. Since we needed you to bond with Bruin, for him to be your protector, we accepted this, but always with sorrow.”

Adara pressed her face into her hands. Her voice muffled, she said, “I … I’m glad you told me. I only wish … But I see … Yes.”

Surging to her feet, she crossed the room in what seemed to be one step and found Neenay on her feet, arms open wide.

Something happened between Adara and her mother, Griffin thought, something that has cleared the air considerably. I’m glad. Adara was so tense on our way here. It’s good to have that gone, now that we’re leaving.

After several days at Adara’s family home, during which time they had completed laying in needed provisions and updating their information about the region, the three had set out in the direction of Crystalaire.

“At least the road is a good one,” Terrell said as he guided Midnight to point. “Since Crystalaire was regarded as a major resort, not just a stopover, the road was designed to accommodate heavier traffic.”

As so often, Griffin found that his expectations for a “good” road and those of the Artemesians differed markedly. True, this road was often wide enough for them to ride three abreast, with Sam ambling behind. However, although the surface was graveled, it was not paved. Deep ruts had been cut by hundreds of years of coach travel. Since axle sizes were standardized—a tradition dating back to the days of the seegnur—the ruts provided tracks though which wheeled traffic rolled.

The road bed, drainage ditches, and rest stops were piously maintained by local governments who collected tolls for the purpose. Griffin thought these groups must surely see the advantages of good roads to modern trade, but every tax and toll collector loudly proclaimed their labors as demonstrations of fidelity to the wishes of the absent seegnur.

Although they could have joined a larger group or hired bodyguards—something they were encouraged to do at several points along the way—they decided against it. The fewer people Griffin interacted with, the better, since he was still inclined to be curiously ignorant about the most routine things. Then there was the problem of Sand Shadow’s effect on domestic animals, most of whom were convinced she intended to eat them at the first opportunity.

“Besides,” Adara said, “if we joined a caravan, we’d likely end up taking care of them—especially if anyone learned that Terrell is a trained factotum. They probably wouldn’t even pay him.”

“Also,” Griffin added, “since we plan to leave the main road before we reach Crystalaire, the fewer to miss us, the better.”

Several days before, they had decided to head directly for Maiden’s Tear. As Terrell put it, “Why give anyone the opportunity to formally remind us that the area is restricted, or try to stop us?”

Adara explained that if they were caught a claim of ignorance would be of no help to either Terrell or herself. Both hunters and factotum were indoctrinated as to the restricted areas, especially those in their immediate vicinity, so they would know to avoid them. Griffin might not be penalized, but he would certainly not be permitted to proceed to Maiden’s Tear.

No one said, although Griffin was certain they all thought it, that the Old One might have influence in the town and use it to have them detained. Given the length of the Old One’s life, it was impossible to know who might be in his debt or how far his influence had spread.

Although Crystalaire was the final destination for many of the travelers, traffic did thin out the higher they went, as merchants stopped along the way to sell their wares in villages or small holdings. They hadn’t seen anyone on the road for over a day, when the arrow impaled itself in the road only a few yards in front of Terrell and Midnight.

“Dismount. Step away from the horses and gear,” shouted a harsh voice from the cliff above. “Don’t try anything or the next arrow won’t miss.”

“Do as he says,” Terrell ordered, dismounting. He muttered something incomprehensible. Griffin had thought he’d heard all the curse words Terrell knew. This one must have been particularly vile. Even Molly pricked up her ears and stamped.

“Now back away from the horses,” continued the harsh voice. “Raise your hands. Keep them away from your weapons. I’m coming down with a few men, but we’ll have you covered.”

As they backed away, hands raised, Terrell spoke, his lips hardly moving. “Let them get down here. Once they’re in the middle of us, any archers will be useless. They’re not going to want to risk hurting the animals in any case.”

Adara’s expression was grim. “Sand Shadow was napping. It’ll take her a bit to reach us. However, they’ll find me harder to disarm than they imagine.”

Griffin understood. A factotum was trained to deal with such contingencies. Terrell would know best how to judge if this was a fight they could win or whether they needed to let the thieves “win”—only to learn how badly they had lost later.

The bandits emerged in a body from a cleft in the cliff, neatly hidden by a cluster of some small-leafed shrub. Griffin had wondered if they might have been hired by Julyan or the Old One, but discarded the idea once he got a look at them. They were a shabby lot, scarred and battered. They might serve as cannon fodder but, based on the organization he’d seen on Mender’s Isle, the Old One would never choose such riffraff for an important job.

The bandit leader was a lean, wiry man with a vivid white scar from the left side of his forehead, down across his nose, and trailing to an end across his right cheek. He carried a narrow blade, somewhere in length between a short sword and a long dagger. Like many of the men on Artemis, he wore his hair long, but it was dressed in a tight braid, coiled so that it would not provide a convenient handhold in a brawl.

His band—five had descended—was equally unsavory. Two were big, broad, dark of hair and eye—probably brothers. One held a sword, the other a spiked club; both men looked ready to fight. The other two held long knives and weren’t nearly as impressive. One had a patch over his right eye. The other limped.

Scarface cast a covetous eye over the three horses and mule. “I think we’ll accept the lot. The horses are noticeable, but we can drive them across the mountains and sell them there. Might keep the mule. Useful beasts, mules. Easier to feed than horses, too.”

“You’re more noticeable than the horses,” Scarface said, “more talkative, too. Be dicey trying to sell you. We can clear out with the goods and be gone before you can go screaming to the law in Crystalaire.”

For a long moment, Scarface’s gaze lingered speculatively on Adara, then dropped, seeing something in those amber eyes that made him reconsider whatever he had been contemplating.

“Patch, Dunny,” he ordered. “Grab the black and the roan first. Me, Bruiser, and Smasher will cover these kind donors to the poor, in case they regret their charity.”

But a curious thing happened when Patch and Dunny laid hold of the bridles. Neither horse stirred a step, not even when slapped sharply on the rump. Griffin saw Midnight bracing his hind legs as if enjoying this game. Not even when Scarface had Patch and Dunny trade places with Bruiser and Smasher would the horses move an inch.

Scarface looked narrowly at Terrell. “You’re being Mister Clever, are you? Have some command to make them stand?” He strode over to Terrell and pressed his knife into the factotum’s throat. “Well, uncommand them then, else you’ll be wearing a necklace of blood.”

Terrell’s voice shook very convincingly. “Very well. Don’t cut me! Drowsing nursing chair!”

The effect of the nonsense phrase was astonishing. Not only did the horses move—they attacked. Spinning in place, Midnight kicked out and caught Bruiser in the chest so hard that he flew across the road and crashed into the cliff face. Tarnish reared, dragging Smasher, who held his bridle, nearly off his feet. Then he arched his neck and bit the man on his shoulder. Gentle Molly squealed and backed away, but Sam the Mule let loose with every ounce of orneriness in his soul and charged straight at Scarface.

“I’m for above,” Adara replied, vanishing up the cliff trail faster than any human should be able to climb. Screaming from above dispelled any lingering apprehension regarding arrows—and announced that Sand Shadow had rejoined them.

Dunny was angling toward Molly. Griffin drew his knife, wishing that he had a nerve burner. Still, he wasn’t about to let his horse be hurt or stolen.

“Drop the knife,” he barked. “You’re not getting away, so you might as well surrender.”

What Dunny might have done next Griffin would never know, for Molly—overcoming her fear when she saw “her” human in danger—reared and brought her forehooves down, smashing the man’s head and right shoulder. Then she snorted and backed away, reminding Griffin of a dainty lady who didn’t want to admit to a capacity for violence.

Griffin finished the downed man. Saving him would have been near impossible back in the Kyley Dominion. Here on Artemis … Impossible.

Over to one side, Sam the Mule was stomping on Scarface with every evidence of satisfaction. The hole Tarnish had bitten in Smasher’s shoulder had hit something vital. The bandit was a dead and very bloody mess.

Terrell had finished Patch and was now inspecting Bruiser. Seeing Griffin’s inquiring expression, he said curtly, “Broken back,” and cut the man’s throat.

Adara and Sand Shadow came down the trail. “Three,” she said. “All dead now. Judging from the stuff we found, no doubt that they were bandits. My guess is that they were probably moving west when they got a glimpse of us and decided that one more job couldn’t hurt. We’d better bury them. Otherwise, the bodies are going to draw attention.”

“And we don’t want that,” Terrell agreed. “Not so close to Maiden’s Tear.”

Griffin looked at the three horses and Sam the Mule. Despite being dappled with blood, they were all calm now—all but Sam, who looked as if he was hoping for another fight.

Terrell grinned. “Now you know why they don’t worry about travelling with a puma.”

Hyphal strings bring nourishment.

Fruiting bodies (cup, club, coral, capped, bell, shelf, jelly)

May emerge.

And be eaten.

Mother/ Father/ Male/ Female

Enfruiting bodies

Create a child.

To be eaten?