Part 9 (2/2)
She crouched above the doll of Kresimir, her eyes unfathomable as a cat's and a frown on her face. She shook her head slightly.
”They're coming for us,” he said. ”About eighty infantry, all armed with air rifles. We have two days before they find us here-if we're lucky. There's no way I could possibly fight that many.”
Ka-poel shook her head again emphatically.
”What do you mean, 'no'?”
She pointed at the doll, then walked her fingers through the air. He can't be moved.
”We have to move him. If we stay here, we die.”
Ka-poel stared at the doll for several moments and then rocked back on her haunches, brow furrowed. She scratched in the dirt with the tip of one of her long needles. She cupped her hand and tapped her palm with one finger, as if indicating a pocket watch.
I need time.
”All right, Pole,” Taniel said. ”But if they get close enough to turn this into a real chase, neither of us will survive it.”
CHAPTER.
10.
Nila guessed it to be around ten o'clock when they came within view of the mercenary camp. Their prisoner, Folkrot, walked along ahead of them, looking tired and dejected.
He'd tried to escape three times in the middle of the night, making a run to the south. Each time, Nila had chased after him and tackled him to the ground. On the third time Bo caught him with sorcery and all fight went out of the boy.
Nila's feet hurt, her dress was filthy, and she wanted nothing more than a warm bed. Bo showed a dark shadow on his cheeks from not shaving but seemed otherwise unaffected by the lack of sleep.
The sentry was a young woman in the red-and-white uniform of a Wings soldier. She held a rifle on her shoulder and stood in the middle of the road to block traffic-of which there was none-and seemed rather bored. She watched them go past without comment.
”Shouldn't she question us?” Nila asked.
”She's there to watch for the enemy,” Bo said. ”Soldiers, cavalry. That kind of thing. The next one will ask us our business.”
”Oh.”
”Do you want to know why?”
”I suppose?”
”Always ask why. It's not enough to know the what of something. A Privileged always needs to know the why. It helps you learn how things work, which aids in your manipulation of the Else.”
”All right,” Nila said. ”Then why?”
”Because the next sentry is a Privileged.”
Four mercenary soldiers stood on one side of the road and as Nila and Bo approached, three of them lowered their rifles, bayonets bristling.
”That's far enough,” the fourth one said. An older woman, she stood off to one side of the others and held her hands out in front of her so they could clearly see the gloves on her hands. ”I know what you are, boy. Explain your presence here immediately.”
Bo leaned over to Nila. ”The Wings employ several dozen low-strength Privileged. They're good for intimidation, and some of them have skill, but few if any have the strength of a cabal sorcerer. There's a kind of pecking order among Privileged. If I had more time, I might strut and scoff, but now...” He held up both hands ungloved. ”I'm here to see Brigadier Abrax,” he told the woman.
At the sight of the Privileged, Folkrot had backed away until he b.u.mped into Nila. He turned, panic in his eyes, and would have fled had Nila not s.n.a.t.c.hed him by the collar.
”On what business?”
”My own,” Bo said.
The four sentries conversed among themselves.
”Don't open your third eye,” Bo whispered. ”She'll sense it.”
”Can't she see me in the Else?”
”No. You haven't interacted enough with it yet to have an aura. A few months, maybe as much as a year, and you will.”
Nila had been about to open her third eye. She wanted to see what another Privileged-other than Bo-would look like. Even without doing so, she thought she could feel... something different about the woman. Perhaps she was imagining it.
”Surrender your gloves,” the Wings Privileged finally said. ”And submit to a search. Then we'll take you into the camp. Brigadier Abrax isn't here, but you can ask for a meeting with Lady Winceslav.”
Bo's face immediately lit up. ”The Lady is here? Wonderful!”
He submitted to the search with far less annoyance than Nila would have expected, and even handed over all three pairs of his gloves without comment. One of the sentries turned to Nila.
”I'm unarmed,” Nila said when he raised his hands.
”I should anyway, ma'am.”
Nila squared her jaw and bit her tongue as the man patted his hands down her sides and in the small of her back. When he reached between her legs, she let fly without hesitation, slapping him full across the face.
The soldier stumbled backward. ”b.l.o.o.d.y pit!”
Bo's eyes glinted dangerously, and Nila saw him tense.
The mercenary Privileged let out a laugh. ”Oh, that's grand. Leave off it, she's unarmed. Let's take them in.”
They were escorted to the church in the center of the town by two rifle-armed soldiers. Just outside the building, a secretary was called over.
”Where is Lady Winceslav?” Bo asked.
The secretary's eyes flicked to the house just down the lane. ”The Lady is unavailable right now. I can ask if she has an appointment...”
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