The Warden

Chapter 43

Shoulders falling, Kyla let her eyes drop toward the deck, exhaling at the same time. The years weighed on her. So many years. So many 'almosts' that ended in 'not-quites.' Tears began to form in her eyes.

Maybe... maybe this task is beyond me, thought Kyla, a single tear leaking onto her cheek, gliding down into her mouth. Its salt overpowered her tongue.

Daughter mine, came Wilo's voice faintly, we would not have chosen you if this task was beyond your abilities. You might have made a mistake in seeking out Manu and forming an agreement with her, but mistakes can be mended.

A particular curve of track jolted the rail-ship, focusing Kyla for a moment on her quarry, a vessel ahead pausing so as to keep his footing.

You should be a little gentler with Masis, however, said Werold. He's still healing and his wounds were grievous. Wounds that you can readily understand.

Kyla nodded. The heavy memory of holding her dying son settled into her mind. Another tear trailed down her cheek. She understood. Probably better than any alive.

I'll do my best.

We only ask your best, Werold said, her serene presence settling more fully on Kyla.

Her hands wiped at her eyes as she pushed away from the railing, again following after Master Elwith, who had made it to the second to last vessel.

Wilo and Werold started to fade from her mind.

Be careful of the one you follow, Wilo added, his voice echoing in her mind. There is a taint of Manu about him.

Kyla paused.

Such a taint could have come only from one of two places: a dealing with Manu or from a nightling. Neither of those options sat well with her.

Stomach flipping over, tongue squelching in a now dry mouth, Kyla squared off, flexing her legs, bouncing on the balls of her feet, while inhaling through her nose. She exhaled out her mouth, her cheeks bulging.

Her body was sound. Ready as always. Light, lithe, and lethal.

Powerful vitality answered each of her steps. They started as a creep then transitioned into a jaunt then a jog from that to a sprint.

Deckhands sprang from her path, swearing under their breath as they flung themselves backwards. None called out after her. Most just grumbled and went back to their work.

She vaulted over the railing, flipping through the air, landing on a single foot on the next vessel's railing. Feet never faltering, no matter the rock or shake of the vessel, Kyla sped along the thin strip of wood, pouncing into the first ratline she came to. Arms and legs working in unison as nimbly as a spider, she scuttled up the rope ladder, not stopping until reaching the yardarm. Grasping a coarse line with one hand, Kyla crouched on the wooden pole, peering down onto the next and last vessel in the line as Master Elwith descended below the decks. Though gone from view, Kyla tracked him in her mindeye.

He moved down the length of the vessel pausing from time to time. Suddenly, his lifelight shone out blindingly, making Lady Kyla wince. And as sudden as it blazed out, Master Elwith's lifelight vanished. No trace remained. Not a glimmer or spark. It had simply vanished.

Scenting found no trace of him. Her ears could detect no creak or clop of his feet. And though keen as a hawk's, Kyla's eyes could not penetrate the wood that separated Master Elwith from her. Though perturbed, she did not abandon her perch. Investigating his sudden and mysterious disappearance could get her caught below decks with no means of escape. If Master Elwith could disappear so suddenly, it stood to reason that he might be able to reappear just as easily, and the prospect of having to either sneak past him, explain herself, or even fight him did not appeal to her at all.