The Seekers: Soul Ties. Anton Anderson
I’m sure Iskrila is already anxious and waiting for me near the gates. After «a couple of days’ she would turn every last tree in the area upside down looking for me!»
Shai looked at her seriously. «You’re not some fisher, Sabiri, you never know what will happen in the next hour doing this job – »
Greta interrupted her. «And this means that nobody should be worried about you? Because it would be «okay’ if you went missing? Because «it’s your job’? Well, cool, at least let your scouts send a note.»
The Birds house looked as it would in any other tribe; a narrow building three floors high. The top floor had several glassless, thin windows. A small bird flew out through one of them, disappearing in the darkening sky. Greta and her scouts waited outside while the others entered the building. The first floor was filled with cages, many of which had occupants. The birds were making all sorts of noises, mostly talking among themselves, paying little attention to their new guests.
The keeper was sitting behind a small desk, completely focused on her work. She was measuring grain on shiny scales. The last person to cramp inside closed the door just loud enough to get her attention. She observed the company, unsure at first about who all those people were, then her face transformed into a smile. Apparently, she recognized someone.
«Welcome back, Shai! Are those your people?» the keeper asked.
«Hello, Abita.» Shai smiled. «Some are mine; the rest are from Coracastan. We weren’t supposed to be here today, so if would be nice to send word back home. I don’t know…» She counted the people in the room. «Three, maybe four birds might be enough.»
«Oh, that’s no problem.» Abita waved her hand. «Take as many as you need.»
It was too cramped inside to move freely, so the scouts quickly scribed their notes short and hurried outside. Sabiri chewed up her quill for a second, then snickered to herself and started writing.
She handed over their notes to Abita and watched how she tied them to a big bird’s leg. When Abita returned to the first floor after releasing the bird, Shai still wasn’t finished writing. She filled a whole piece of paper on both sides and sent it separately from her scouts’ notes. They thanked Abita for the help and went outside.
«What took you so long?» Greta asked.
«Shai wrote a whole poem to someone,» Sabiri said. «You think she has a new lover?»
«I don’t – » Shai tried to object.
Greta interrupted her. «Oh, that must be one of her old ones!»
«I wasn’t!» Shai yelled at her.
«I guess she wasn’t home for too long,» Sabiri theorized. «She had to give orders to absolutely everyone under her command!»
«You…» Shai snapped. «Why can’t you take this seriously?!!»
«Because you need to relax sometimes, Shai!» Greta laughed, looking at her red face.
Sabiri noticed that one of Greta’s scouts looked like she also wanted to say something funny to Shai but stayed quiet. Did she think that would be out of line? Or did Shai’s voice sound that scary?
Soon they reached the inn, a two-story building which looked most inviting. Large windows were shedding warm light. Door and window frames were freshly painted white. A big sign hanging above the front door, said «The full belly.»
Sabiri was sure that in better times it was usually full of people, but now there were a lot of empty tables. The innkeeper shined after seeing such long-awaited guests. She quickly pushed a few tables together, overfilled them with every kind of food and drink, and brought out a few benches. Instead of returning to her post, she asked to dine with them, and was delighted to be allowed to join.
Her name was Lisa. She liked smoked arnu meat and clare juice. Just yesterday she’d read a book on how to make vegetables taste like meat (Sabiri failed to understand why anyone would do that). She heard that they would run out of metal for arrows soon, so hunting would become more difficult. She—
These were clearly lonely days for her, as Lisa managed to talk more than everyone else combined! But Sabiri didn’t mind her, for it was a nice way to find out what was going on in the village. And her scouts eventually eased up around their mistresses as well and joined the conversation.
After eating and drinking a little more than they thought physically possible, after discussing everything that came to mind, they finally said their goodnights and went to sleep. Usually, Sabiri would share a room with at least one of her people, but Greta insisted that since there were no one else in the inn anyway, they should enjoy as much space as possible.
Sabiri immediately liked her room. It was lit by several jars of burning bugs and had a bed almost big enough for three people. The floor was covered by a piece of lite hide that muted her weary hoofsteps. A big window overlooked the tribe, letting in a stream of welcome fresh air.
She was too full and too tired to do anything else today. After covering the jars with pieces of hide, left there just for this purpose, she dove under a blanket and fell asleep almost immediately.
A white bow-knot
Iskrila felt like she was about to faint. She had just finished making yet another flaming arrow, putting it into a big barrel in front of her. She looked around, tired from hours of monotonous work and being constantly dizzy from that foul smell.
For whatever purpose this place was built for, it was quite roomy. There were a dozen more barrels like hers, all half-filled with flaming arrows. Those arrows were sharp tipped so they could penetrate the object they hit, and they were wrapped in rags, soaked with flammable oil and tar. Several workers sat at little tables just like hers, making arrow after arrow.
Flammable tar radiated a nasty, heavy odor from which there was no escape. It smelled as bad as rotting flesh, though wildly different, unique even. It felt like something invisible and oily was literally blocking Iskrila’s nostrils. All the windows were closed and draped with thick hides; the door was locked – there was no way anyone outside could see what was happening here. The room was lit with jars of burning bugs, for nobody wanted to risk having real fire near all this fuel.
The smell was really messing with Iskrila’s sanity, as well as with her breakfast, so she decided to stretch her legs. She covered one of the filled barrels with a piece of blanket, picked it up by the straps, and carried it outside.
The guards at the door recognized her and let her pass. Fuck, yeah! It’s so freaking great to be outside! She stood still for a while, listening to some faraway chatter and breathing clean, fresh air. As nice as it was, Iskrila remembered that lunchtime was approaching.
Horrible memories of yesterday flashed in her mind. The confusion and dread she felt when Sabiri didn’t return home. The anger at Star and Haileen as they tried to calm her down. The words they said.
«She’s not alone out there.»
«The other war mistresses are with her – like anyone would mess with them!»
Yeah, right, Iskrila thought. They would definitely not fall into Drowners’ trap! An army of swarmers wouldn’t mind eating them alive! A time vortex, or a teleportation veil, or any other sort of stupid magic crap wouldn’t appear right in front of their noses! I really should’ve given her my amulet!
Iskrila made herself stop. Her hand dove into a pocket on her belt and fished out a neatly folded piece of paper. When she finished re-reading Sabiri’s letter for the fifth time today, she was once again smiling, hopeful for a quick reunion. Sabiri would return tired and hungry, so Iskrila decided to cook her something nice beforehand.
Heading back home, Iskrila couldn’t help but notice just how the village had changed recently. People were