Page 40 of Fateless

I took two quick swallows, letting the water soothe my throat. “Kovass,” I whispered, gazing at my reflection at the bottom of the mug. “Are we still headed that way?”

She frowned. “As far as I know. Why?”

My stomach clenched in fear. “Just curious,” I said, handing the mug back to her. She gave me a suspicious look, as if I were plotting something. I was, and if she knewwhatI was planning, she would try to stop me. One did not give away their intentions to complete strangers, even if they were being helpful. As soon as she left, I would find my clothes, sneak out, and search for Halek and Raithe. Once I found them, we had to come up with a plan for getting off this strider. Even if it was just to steal supplies and a lifeboat, and take our chances on the Dust Sea again. If not, we’d be walking straight into Kovass. Straight to the Deathless King.

There was a tap on the door, and it creaked open a few inches. “Tahba,” said a male voice from the other side, and I quickly snatched the sheet from where it had fallen to my lap. “Sorry to barge in, but is the girl awake?”

The d’wevryn, Tahba, stomped to the door, wrenched it back, and stepped through. Scowling, she closed it firmlybehind her, presumably with the intention of yelling at whoever was on the other side. I had the feeling they were about to get an earful.

Time to go.

Quickly, I searched the room, finding my clothes, neatly washed and folded, in a basket in the corner. I slipped into them and pulled up my hood, and the comforting sensation of anonymity descended. Now I just had to find my companions, and we could get off this death trap. Facing Demon Hour again wouldn’t be as deadly with adequate water and shelter from the heat; we just had to plan accordingly. Better that than marching merrily into Kovass, or what was left of it, and facing the sheer terror of the Deathless King. Ironic, that my first experience of actually being on a strider would be the one time I was desperate to leave.

Unfortunately, before I could slip out of the room, the door opened and Tahba stepped through. I tensed, wondering if she would scold me for being up and order me to lie down again. I would comply, but I’d be gone the second her back was turned.

Tahba’s brow creased when she saw me up and dressed, but she didn’t scold or point to the cot. Instead, she sighed and gave me a worried, half-apologetic look. “If you’re well enough to walk, you can follow me to the bridge,” she said. “The captain wants to see you.”

The inside of a strider wasn’t what I had expected. Gazing at them from the streets of the Docks District, I’d thought they seemed so large, so majestic. I had thought the inside would bebright and spacious, with travelers seated at tables on thick silk cushions, luxuriously sipping wine as they gazed through the windows at the endless sea surrounding them.

The reality was not like that at all.

The hallways of the strider were dim and narrow, with low ceilings and flickering lights. Copper pipes were everywhere, snaking along the roof, the walls, even the floor. Occasionally, they would hiss and leak a thin curl of steam. You could feel the strider’s movements with every step it took, a sort of lurching stride that rocked you back and forth. The air was warm and humid and smelled vaguely metallic.

The narrow corridor continued past several wooden doors on either side of the hall. Curious, I stood on tiptoe to peer into one tiny round window in one door and saw a ridiculously small room with three sleeping alcoves lined with bedding set into each wall.This is where people sleep—piled atop each other, with no personal space.I shuddered and hurried after Tahba, my fascination with striders fading a little. Though it made sense, if I thought about it; striders carried a lot of things across the Dust Sea. Every inch of space had to be utilized.

I followed Tahba up a long stairwell that wound its way through several floors, until we reached a final door at the top. As she pulled it open, sunlight flooded the landing, and a blast of hot, dust-scented air hit me in the face.

“The captain is on deck,” Tahba told me, jerking her head at the open frame. “You’ll know him when you see him. Stay inside during Demon Hour from now on, you hear? I don’t want to see you pale and shriveled up in my sickroom again.”

I gave her a half smile. “From now on, I’ll try very hard not to die.”

She snorted. “One of those,” she muttered, and walked past me to the stairs. I listened to her footsteps clunking down the stairwell, then turned and slipped through the open door.

The breeze on deck was dry, chafing my lips, but at least the entire platform was shadowed by thick canvas squares, protecting it from the relentless glare of the twins. I glanced over the railing and saw the Dust Sea stretching to the horizon in every direction, and my willingness to be a tiny speck in that vast emptiness faded a little.

“Sparrow!”

I looked up. Halek was striding toward me across the planks, sunlight gleaming off his hair and a bright smile on his face. Without any hesitation and before I realized what was happening, he crushed me to him in a sudden embrace.

Strangely, though I was surprised, the abrupt closeness didn’t set off alarms in my head. I could feel the desperate relief in Halek’s embrace, and I tentatively hugged him back, feeling hard muscles through his shirt.

“There you are.” Pulling back, the Fatechaser gave me a relieved, beaming grin. “I told them you would make it. Surviving Demon Hour on the Dust Sea only to die in a bed just wasn’t your fate. Though Tahba was quite worried. Apparently, it was touch and go for a while.”

“Really?”

He nodded somberly. “You should have seen our iylvahn friend—while he was waiting to see the captain, he stalkedoutside your room until Tahba got so fed up, she banned him from the hallway.” Halek gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. “Ah, d’wevryn tenacity. She wasn’t at all afraid of his kahjai mysteriousness. Pushed him right out and closed the door in his face. It was quite the sight to see.”

Raithe was worried about me? That seemed odd. I glanced over Halek’s shoulder and saw a pair of figures near the center of the deck, watching us. One was a stout, red-haired d’wevryn, his beard pulled into tight braids, probably to combat the wind. He wore a rust-red coat trimmed in copper, the image of a cog stitched onto one shoulder, and a turban atop his head. Most definitely the captain, as Tahba had said.

A familiar hooded figure stood beside him; as our gazes met, I caught the flash of a pale blue eye and, for a moment, open relief on the iylvahn’s face. It made my stomach do a funny little dance, and I quickly looked away.

“Ah, and here’s our last lost traveler.” The captain gave me an appraising nod as he walked up, Raithe trailing behind him. I caught a glint of metal beneath the captain’s coat and realized that he was wearing armor under his clothes. “I am pleased that you are well again,” he went on. “My name is Captain Gahmil, and this is my strider. We were on our way to Kovass for a standard passenger and supply run, but then these two”—he glanced at Raithe, looming behind him, then at Halek standing beside me—“show up with the news that Kovass has fallen. Is this true?” He held up a thick hand as Raithe joined us, looming over the captain’s shoulder. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to imply untruthfulness, but an iylvahn and a wandering Fatechaser are notcitizens of the city on the Dust Sea.” His dark gaze shifted to me again and narrowed. “You were born in Kovass, or so they tell me. Is the city lost? Has a Deathless King truly returned?”

I gave a solemn nod. “We fled the city as it was falling,” I told the captain, whose mouth thinned until it vanished into his beard. “The Deathless King lifted his own ancient city from beneath Kovass, and everything else crumbled. Honestly, I don’t know what has happened to Kovass, how much of it is left, if anyone survived. I just know that the Deathless King is there now, and I don’t want to go anywhere near him again.”

“We told you, Captain,” Raithe said quietly from behind the d’wevryn. “Turn this vessel around. If you keep going, you’re putting yourself and all the lives aboard in danger. A Deathless King is not something you can survive.”

“I know what the Deathless Kings are, iylvahn,” said the captain, a bit shortly. “Your kind are not the only ones with long memories. The d’wevryn have our own legends of the Deathless, and our grudges last forever. We remember, even though the troblin and the humans have forgotten. We know what it was like under the heel of the Deathless Kings.” He glowered at Raithe, then sighed heavily. “I just have a strider full of cargo and investors and passengers bound for Kovass. If I’m going to turn this vessel around, I’d better have a damn fine reason to endure the screaming and wailing that’s going to come from this.”

---