Saebrya

Two weeks later, Saebrya was casting nets in the Idorion when Ryan came running up along the riverside road, yelling and waving his hands to get her attention.

“He’s awake!” Ryan cried. “Come on!”

Saebrya quickly hauled in her gear and lifted anchor, paddling the canoe back towards the shore. She climbed out and Ryan helped her haul it up the beach.

“He say anything?” Saebrya asked, as she breathlessly followed Ryan back to town. The kid she had brought back had been staying in Ryan’s room in the inn, after having quietly been brought in at night so no one had seen—Mum Omstead had taken Saebrya seriously when she’d said that people would probably want to kill the kid if they found out where he was.

“He wanted food and water,” Ryan said. “But he’s all clammed up. Won’t even tell anyone his name.”

Saebrya, who suspected she knew at least half of the kid’s name, considering the profusion of silver flowing from him, felt a little flutter of anxiety. As far as Ryan and the rest of the world knew, he had been abducted by a brigand looking to extort some money out of his mother. Since Ryan didn’t remember anything after getting knocked out in the hall of his mother’s inn almost a month before, only Saebrya knew how tenuous that alibi really was. As far as Ryan knew, Saebrya had rescued him from a couple of bad guys with clubs and daggers. The teenager, however, could ruin her whole story just by opening his mouth. Terrified he would let the truth slip before she could control the damage, Saebrya ducked her head and ran faster.

The courtyard of the inn was quiet as they jogged up, but Ryan discretely led them through the slops door anyway. He took them through the kitchens and straight to his room, where Mum Omstead stood outside, looking distressed. “He says he doesn’t remember anything,” Mum Omstead said, stepping inside with them. “He’ll barely eat.” The teenager sat at a small table under the window, staring down at a half-empty bowl of soup, picking at it with an overturned spoon.

Saebrya knew it was horrible, but the relief almost overwhelmed her. “That’s not surprising…he was asleep the whole time.”

The kid glanced up at her with only the barest hint of interest before returning to staring down bleakly at his meal.

“I have pies in the oven,” Ryan’s mom said. “Tell me what he says. I’ll be in the kitchen.” She nodded at the kid, then hurried out of the room and down the hall.

Carefully, Saebrya closed the door behind her, leaving just her, Ryan, and the boy in the room together. “You don’t remember anything?”

“No,” the boy said, still prodding at a potato in his stew. He looked whipped, beaten.

Glancing at Ryan, Saebrya gingerly offered, “Where did you live before the old man kidnapped you? Do you know?”

“No,” the kid said. He continued to pick at his food.

Seeing the way the kid’s shoulders were hunched, the defeat to his posture, Saebrya didn’t believe that. “Look… Wherever you came from, we can help get you home. Ryan and I have some sparks saved up…”

She made an encouraging gesture at Ryan, who quickly piped up, “Yeah, like twenty full sparks. Should get you anywhere in Bryda, if you travel cheap.”

“My family is dead.” The kid threw his spoon across the table, where it clattered against the wall, leaving a streak of soup across the oaken planks. Glaring up at them, he said, “And of all of them, Wynfor saved me. It could’ve been Rees or Icel, someone who could’ve fought… But he wasted his energy on me.” Then the boy cocked his head at Ryan with loathing. “And a no-name Riverlands bastard. How did you rate?”

Saebrya licked her lips, knowing they were dangerously close to spilling the secret of Ryan’s origin to him. “Did you know the man who kidnapped you? I can take you to him, if you wish.”

“No.” The kid shoved his bowl aside, only half eaten. “The old man would only try to stop me.”

Saebrya nervously glanced at Ryan to see how much her friend was gleaning from the conversation. He seemed to be pretty clueless, his face blank, but that was the same look he used when he was coming up with a scheme to beat her at chits, so it wasn’t a good measure.

“Stop you from doing what?” Ryan piped up, making her wince.

The boy glanced up at him, looked him over a moment, then went back to staring at his half-eaten bowl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“My mom said she’s okay with you staying at the inn with us, if you want to,” Ryan offered. “We can always use extra help during the summer trading season.”

“No.” The kid flicked a droplet of soup, scowling at the place where his fingertip touched the table.

“So, uh, no offense,” Ryan said, “but you’re kind of being a shit. You obviously remember what happened. If you don’t tell us where you came from or your name, we can’t really help you.”

The kid looked up and gave Ryan a cold, calculated stare. “How about I kill you, the girl, and everyone else in this disgusting Vethyle village, then start moving up the Riverlands wiping out their retainers until they send Rhydderch after me?”

He’s totally serious, Saebrya realized, with a startled thump of her heart. It was then that she saw the kid was sitting a little too tensely in his chair, waiting for an excuse to do just as he had said. She glanced at Ryan, who was making a face that meant he was about to say something sarcastic, and she caught his arm, stopping him hurriedly. Ryan frowned, but blessedly didn’t finish his retort.

“We’re not Vethyles,” Saebrya said quickly. “Look at him.” She grabbed Ryan and shoved him forward, so the kid could get a better look.

He seemed to scan Ryan’s face, then grunted and looked back at the dirty tabletop. “I don’t remember anything,” he muttered. He glanced up at the open window. “Please go away.”

Saebrya wanted to say more—she wanted to get the boy alone and tell him what had happened—but Ryan took her by the arm and gently led her out of the room. “Let’s go,” he said. “The kid’s just tired.”

But Saebrya, having seen the look of total promise in the boy’s green eyes, knew that the opposite was true. The boy wasn’t tired—he was ready to commit murder. Saebrya recognized the feeling from the days when she had marched that road up the Idorion alone, expecting to have to kill an Auld.

And if he was ready to kill, then he had to remember something…

“You know what?” Ryan said, “we should probably give him a few hours to rest. He’s had a rough month. How about we go see what Cook’s got in the kitchens? Stew sounds pretty good right now.”

Wanting to keep the kid from spilling her secrets, Saebrya was all too happy to oblige. When they went back after eating, the boy was curled on his side on the bed, back to the door, so they left him there.

As it turned out, Saebrya’s concerns were unfounded; either the boy didn’t know anything, or he wasn’t about to tell. Aside from the brief conversation with Ryan and Saebrya, the auldling didn’t say anything to anyone. The boy kept to himself in silence for two more days, eating less than he should, sleeping more than he needed, and going out to the river to stare over the water for hours at a time. On the third afternoon, Ryan came to get her to tell her that the boy had slipped out of the inn that night, and hadn’t even taken food or a horse with him for the trip.

For her part, Saebrya couldn’t have been more relieved. The kid had been the only one who could have refuted her story about Ryan’s capture, and the entire time he had been staying at the inn, she’d worried that he would let it slip to Ryan that they were both auldlings, and that the next time Ryan came to speak to her on the river, it would be to say that he’d be leaving to become an Auld at the Spyre.

“What’d he say before he left?” Saebrya asked as casually as she could, while Ryan played a chit. She wasn’t able to concentrate on the game, fully expecting Ryan to tell her oh, by the way, I talked with the kid and I’m going to be on the first wagon to the Spyre…

Ryan shrugged, a little furrow on his brow as he concentrated on their game. “Nothing much. He asked for a pen and parchment, but mom told him we don’t have anything like that, so he used charcoal and leather.”

Saebrya gave Ryan a curious look. “What’d he do with it?”

“No idea,” Ryan said. “I’m winning. Stop trying to distract me.”

Saebrya glanced back down at their game, but she was still having trouble focusing. “So…uh…he never said anything to you about why the guy took him?”

“Nope,” Ryan said. He claimed a chit with his avatar, then, setting it onto his growing pile, held out his hand and said, “Gimme.”

Saebrya grimaced and gave him a card. Hesitantly, she said, “Ryan?”

“Mmm?” Having made another match, he pushed his piece across the board to take another chit.

Saebrya swallowed, not sure how to ask him about the events that had transpired that afternoon in the Idorion. The angry rash on her chest had dulled, leaving behind a mark she had never seen before—a softly glowing silver spiral made of dozens of smaller spirals, which were each made of hundreds of tiny spirals. She couldn’t get a very good look at it from her angle, but every time she had seen it, it had given her chills. It was, undoubtedly, not something that had been made by the mind of man.

As with so much in her world, however, she wasn’t sure if anyone else could see it.

“You never asked me what happened on the road,” Saebrya offered.

Still distracted with his move, Ryan said, “Figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Immediately, she felt guilty. “Uh, yeah. Okay.” She swallowed and glanced down at her shirt, which now hid the strange mark that she had yet to show to a single soul.

Swallowing, Saebrya said, “Do you…uh…remember…anything from after you were knocked out at the inn?”

“Nope,” Ryan said. He took another chit, totally focused on the game.

“What about the guy who took you?” Saebrya asked.

“He hit me over the head with a nightstand,” Ryan said distractedly. “All I remember is a shadow.”

“Oh.” Saebrya swallowed again. “Okay.” She glanced down at her shirt and the strange symbol hidden underneath. Then, because it had been eating her, because she had to know, she took a deep breath and tugged her tunic off.

Ryan’s avatar, which had been in his hand as he moved it across the board, fell from his fingers to clatter on the board.

“Do you see anything weird on my chest?” Saebrya demanded.

Ryan stared. He kept staring.

Saebrya waved her hand in front of his face. “Ryan?”

He was turning pale. And, in the face of that, Saebrya wondered if there really was something there, and it was triggering a memory.

Clearing his throat, Ryan visibly tore himself away. “Nope. Nothing there.” He reached for the chits piece again. It wasn’t odd for her to ask him if he saw things—she usually had to ask several times a day, just to keep herself straight.

“Look, you can tell me if you see something,” Saebrya insisted, unnerved by his reaction. Had he seen something?

“Like what?” Ryan said, moving the piece. “For a moment there, I seriously thought you were talking about your tits.”

Saebrya rolled her eyes and put her shirt back on, greatly relieved it was only visible to her. “Never mind. Get your mind out of the gutter and finish your turn.”

“As you command, my liege,” Ryan said, taking a few more chits, grinning.

Even at his quip, Saebrya couldn’t even bring herself to grin back, still feeling on edge, desperate to get back to where they had been before the Auld had found them. Normal. She wanted everything to be normal again…

And, even though everything they were doing was normal, Saebrya couldn’t get over the nagging sense of dread that something big was coming, something even worse than a bitter old man…

Then Ryan snapped his fingers in front of her face and said, “I said your turn. Like, a minute ago. Are you all right?” He looked seriously concerned, like he was about to drag her to the village herbalist.

“Fine,” Saebrya said, shaking herself. She forced a smile and picked up her piece. “Just thinking about that kid…”

“He’s gone,” Ryan said. “Never even told us his name. Just relax. Things can go back to normal.”

And when Saebrya’s head jerked up to face him, she thought she saw something deeper and meaningful there, a calm understanding, before Ryan broke out into a huge grin. “And I knew you had perfect tits. Like Aunt Prilla’s cantaloupes.” He whistled.

Saebrya snorted, despite herself. “Yeah, well. You’re the only one that’s ever gonna see them, so don’t bother telling anyone.”

Ryan froze, then slowly started to smile. “You mean…”

“Just play,” Saebrya muttered, reddening when she caught her own slip. “We’ve got time to talk about it later.” She moved her piece randomly, foregoing chits or cards, just to get the game moving again.

Ryan stared at her much too long before returning his attention to the board, and after several minutes of him concentrating once more, Saebrya was finally able to ease the tension that had been plaguing her since the Auld’s arrival.

Maybe things could go back to normal…

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something dark floating down the river, an oddity in the sense it was round, instead of the usual sticks and other debris that the cold gray waters of the Idorion carried during the spring.

Ryan saw it too, and straightened. “Is that a dog?”

They put up their game and went after it. They pulled up beside the object and Saebrya kept the canoe steady as Ryan hauled it from the water.

Ryan only got it partway from the Idorion before he dropped it again in horror.

The snakelike, yet humanoid face—waterlogged and almost unrecognizable from so many days in the river—flipped to face the sun as its huge, winged body rolled underneath it in the current, the once-white feathers tattered into barbless brown spines. The chest was peppered with arrows, at least twelve of them. As the body continued to roll, bumping against underwater debris, its arms and legs—taloned like an eagle’s—floated into view.

It was missing a hand.

“I think that’s an Auldhund,” Ryan whispered.

Saebrya nodded, her heart pounding. Everyone had heard of them, especially this close to the Citadel, but she’d never seen one in person before.

“Should we pull him out?” Ryan asked, looking more unnerved than she’d ever seen him before. “Tell someone?”

“We can’t,” Saebrya said. “They might think we did it.”

“I know,” Ryan said as he watched the body continue to bob down the river, “but Saeby…” He sounded anguished. Everyone this far north knew about the Old Code, and how the Auldhunds had once saved the world from the deadly creations of the inconceivably powerful Aulds of the past. Humanity would not have survived had it not been for the Auldhunds’ intervention, exterminating monsters that had been made by Aulds to fight other Aulds, but had started killing the common folk, instead.

If it weren’t for the Auldhunds, every single man, woman, and child in the world would have died, and here they were, allowing its body to float downstream, its death unreported, unavenged.

But to Saebrya the alternative—bringing it to the Spyre—was the thing she feared most in the world. “Someone else will drag him out,” she said, trying not to let Ryan hear the tremor in her voice.

“It’s a long way to the next village,” Ryan offered, sounding similarly torn. “What if it gets caught on something and rots?”

Willing to do anything to avoid the Aulds, Saebrya said, “Someone killed it. Do you know what they’d do to us if they thought we’d killed an Auldhund?”

Ryan, surprisingly, didn’t push the issue. Together, they watched the body gently bob down the Idorion, and Saebrya felt the guilt to her core as it slid out of sight.

Then she saw the next one rounding the bend in the river. And the next, and the next… Dozens of them, all peppered with arrows, their bodies bloated and pale, their bodies hard and twisted in death.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ryan whispered, as the Auldhunds bobbed and bumped their way down the Idorion from the north. “Right now.”

Saebrya, who was feeling chills all over her body, hastily found her paddle.