Free Tides of Blood and Steel by Christian Warren Freed Page B

should we find one,” Argis added. “They could come out anywhere.”
    Nothol was forced to agree. “He’s right. Skuld was our way in. He alone knew his way around down there.”
    “Then it is hopeless,” Maleela said in a hushed voice.
    “No, remember that the boy does have a wizard with him,” Nothol said.
    “If they managed to survive,” Dorl replied.
    “There’s no helping that. I say we link up with Bahr and the others. Harnin will undoubtedly know we are missing by now.”
    Argis measured the sell swords. “It may already be too late. Smoke rises from the northeast.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Bahr’s estate lies in that direction. Harnin must have gone straight there.”
    The news felt like a slap in the face. Not even their combined strength managed to get a single step ahead of the One Eye. All was lost if Bahr had been caught again. Despair threatened to grip each of them in different ways. Not for the first time.
    “We should hurry. Bahr might still need help,” Dorl added quickly.
    “He’s right. We are wasting time,” Nothol echoed.
    Argis was unconvinced. “Has it occurred to either of you that we may be the only ones left? What happens then?”
    “We go and return to Rogscroft. This kingdom is no longer safe.”
    Conversation faded. Arguing only wasted time. They slunk away from the tunnels. Each was eager to leave behind the darkness-inspired nightmares. The hope of reuniting with friends strengthened their will. It pained each to knowingly leave behind companions, but time was against them. Initiative was lost and it became imperative to regain it if they hoped to find success at the end of the day. Too many lives had already been lost. Delranan stood ready to rip itself apart.
    Nothol Coll led the way, unerringly weaving through back alleys and seldom used paths. The quiet of the night unnerved him. He struggled to push back a collage of poisoned thoughts. Soon enough they would know who lived or died. Thinking about it ahead of time served no purpose. The city faded into forest. Sundin Pond wasn’t far off. The only problem now was who awaited them at the pond, Bahr or Harnin.

     
SEVEN
    Sundin Pond
    “I think we lost them,” Boen said through strained breaths. His baritone voice was dark, threatening. All of this running sat ill on his conscience. He was used to a straight up fight, not slinking around in the shadows. More and more he had to struggle to contain the rage that wanted free. Lust of open battle threatened to consume him. Boen knew it was only a matter of time before he lost and the rage won.
    Bahr gestured Rekka to rein the wagon in.
    “The wagon will leave them a good trail to follow,” Rekka warned in her lithe voice.
    The Sea Wolf nodded grimly. “What choice do we have? We need the wagon. It’s the only way we can carry the supplies.”
    Ionascu, broken into a shadow of his former self, scowled but remained silent. This was neither the place nor time.
    “We could always dump him and lose the wagon,” Boen suggested. “Both are dead weight for what we have to do.”
    “No. We need Ionascu if for nothing more than preventing Harnin from learning what we are about. Besides, look at him. That man has suffered far worse than any of us. He stays.”
    The big Gaimosian shrugged his indifference. Ionascu was a spy and deserved whatever fate had arranged. Still, he managed a degree of sympathy. The man had both hands broken and his mind addled. The indignity of it disgusted Boen. Worse, Anienam had been unable to help. The bones were already knitting back together. His hands and feet were misshapen and ruined.
    Boen leaned in closer to Bahr and lowered his voice. “He meant to sell us out. A traitor is a traitor, my friend. The afterlife will not be kind to him. As sad a tale as his life has become, we cannot afford to babysit him. Not if we are to make it.”
    “Right now it doesn’t really matter,” Bahr countered. “We are still waiting for the