Priestess

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Ara breathed a sigh of relief as they left the Tukendoom Desert behind. It hadn’t been as bad with the wind at her back, but it was still bad enough. Overlaying the leaves of her cloak, she twisted them three times. The vines grew together and sank into the fabric. The cloak shimmered before settling into a nondescript grey.

Bomin squinted at her. “Your Nightstar is gone, Missy, and Lodan looks nothing more than a magnificent steed.”

“Must I stay in the saddle for it to work?” she asked Jarrer.

“As long as the cloak stays on your body, it will hold,” he responded.

She grunted. “Good. Let’s stop at the town. A hot bath would do wonders for my back.”

Jarrer and Bomin exchanged glances. “We should stay out of sight, Ara,” Jarrer finally said. “The fewer people that see us, the better.”

Ara waved their concern away. She had grit in places she’d rather not think of, and a cold bath in a river sounded as enticing as hugging a porcupine. Living within the Blood Mountains really had softened her. “Just before the desert, Coen and I bought supplies from a woman named Betris. She’d not harm us.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Missy,” Bomin said.

“You should listen to them, Ara. They have been through much in their time.” Lodan admonished her.

“This isn’t a battle, it’s a bath.” But as they continued to climb, something pricked at her that she hadn’t felt in years—her Gift of Survival. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should avoid the town,” she finally said.

Bomin and Jarrer both relaxed. They changed course, but the danger continued to grow. Ara pulled Lodan to a halt and closed her eyes. She Fragmented to the third and ever so carefully began searching their surroundings.

At first, she found only animals that smelled of heat and dryness. But then she found people. Nonaeans, by the images that flashed in her mind as she brushed across them—images of fresh turned earth and the prickly feeling of sweat.

But then other images appeared—the clinking of armor and the smells of horse’s. “Soldiers,” she said. She didn’t find any shadows. “I’m going to Enter one of them.”

“No, Ara,” Jarrer warned. “If they’re Gifted, they could hurt you.”

But his words were little more than a faint echo. She was already on the white mountaintop, where thoughts were as empty as the barren landscape. She slipped inside and found a man hungrily awaiting the noon meal. But then she was being Pressed against. She felt a Shield worked at being erected.

So they were Gifted.

Ara quickly retreated and her sense of the man abruptly disappeared—all except for the tale tell sign of the shadow he’d left behind.

“Assassins,” she hissed. They had to be. How many had she felt? At least a dozen, maybe more.

It had been so long since she’d felt the sticky sweet fear slither over her that she barely noticed Lodan leaping into action, making a wide berth of the little town at breathtaking speed. “Bomin can’t keep up,” she said.

“I must get you away,” Lodan replied.

“I’m safer with him than without,” she reminded him.

Lodan reluctantly slowed, allowing Bomin and Nag to catch up.

Danger! her Gift warned. Without thought, Ara strung her bow, drew it, and nocked an arrow. Seeing her, Bomin hefted his axe and Jarrer his bow. The three kept glancing back. And then she heard something crashing from behind.