The Clan of Outcasts [Season 3]

Part 25: "Breach"

Sleep would not be for a while at least, so Tristan tilted his head curiously at her, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Tell me, Corinda--why have you come to visit me in the middle of our camp, in the middle of the night? Was it just to watch me blow around a few cinders?"'

Corinda shook her head, fidgeting with the seam on her close-fitting trousers. "No--not just that. I..." She trailed off, seemed a little afraid, but plunged ahead anyway. "I'm a deckhand on the Scylla," she confessed. "I've come to warn you."

Tristan tensed as she named the very pirate ship they were preparing to hunt. "Warn me about what?" he asked.

Corinda pursed her lips, her expression wincing in displeasure. "Haggard, our captain, is a very conniving and cruel man. He knows about you--and when the Brigadier gives chase tomorrow, he is going to seek you out very first, and either force you to join his crew... or get rid of you."

Tristan frowned, and the swirling breeze playing about his fingers swelled to a twisting wind the size of his palm. "Get rid of me?" he said. "Why?"

"I don't know," Corinda answered. "Something to do with your, um, ability... He's set himself against your kind."

Tristan snorted. "My kind? As far as I know, there aren't any others who can do what I do." He closed his fist, and the very air inside the tent seemed to freeze in place.

Corinda bobbed her head. "I can't say I've ever seen another person who can do that... but I do know where there are lots of people who can do things that other, normal people can't."

Tristan heard her speak the word normal, and a flood of doubts crowded into his mind. How dare she say he wasn't normal--but wasn't that something he thought about himself every time he used this strange "gift" that he'd been given? But then again... to be given the opportunity to avoid being slaughtered, and to actually be able to meet other people who understood what he dealt with every day, and accepted him as one of their own...

"Where is this place you speak of?" he asked in hushed tones--after all, they didn't want to be overheard.

"It's called The Realm," Corinda answered. "And I can find you a ride to get there tonight."

Tristan squinted closely at this girl who until a few minutes ago had been a perfect stranger, actually going out of her way to accomplish the impossible for his sake. "What do you mean, find me a ride?"

Corinda smiled. "It's an instinct I have--I can figure out where things are going, and I have knack for finding the right way to go places. On my way from where our ship is anchored, to this camp, I heard a merchant with a wagon talking about making the trip up to The Realm tonight--I can get you into his wagon without him noticing." Corinda stood and put her hood up again, masking her features and making her stand out even less in the midst of that darkened tent. "So what'll it be, Tristan the wind-whisperer? Are you leaving this place, or not?"

Tristan took one look at the door of his tent. General Feldt had made no secret about the fact that even if Tristan did well, and the mission succeeded, he would still be regarded as "property" and the man would not hesitate to turn him over to the scientists committed to experimenting on the Gifts and speculating about their origins, why some had them and others did not. This wasn't any sort of life, and definitely not the one Tristan would have chosen for himself. He shrugged, turned his back on all that he knew, and slipped out the door after the strange young woman.

The wagon was waiting exactly where she said it would be. The driver had pulled to a stop and was absorbed in something Tristan couldn't exactly distinguish in the darkness, but he didn't notice when Corinda lifted the tarp at the back of his wagon and motioned for Tristan to get in.