Page 56 of Bannerless (The Bannerless Saga 1)

Enid didn’t worry about getting hurt—anything that might have fallen or broken off had done so a long time ago. She stood still and tried to take it in, the strange view, the rich smell of vegetation cut through with the musty odor of wet rock or concrete, only slightly unpleasant, only barely identifiable.

In the distance, the scrape of gravel.

“Shh,” she hissed to Dak. He was already standing still, quiet. She gripped her walking stick two-handed.

“Enid, we should go, come on . . .” He started back the way they’d come.

“No, wait a sec.” She continued on a few steps, listened harder—and heard voices. She couldn’t make out words, but she definitely heard two people speaking, calling out curt instructions to each other.

Behind her, Dak looked ready to run, if only he could be sure she’d follow. But she wouldn’t.

“Dak,” she hissed. “Play something.”

“What?”

“Get your guitar out. Play something. We’ll pretend we’re having our own little party and draw them out.”

“Enid, that’s a terrible idea.”

“I want to see them.”

“You’ll do more than that if they find us!”

The voices drew closer. “Was that . . . heard somethin’ . . .”

Too late, Enid and Dak had already been discovered. They’d have a confrontation on their hands—unless they could make themselves interesting. Enid said again, “Play something!”

Dak found the corner of a fallen slab to sit on and pulled his guitar out of its cover. Enid stood nearby, leaning on her staff and keeping watch for whatever came around that corner up ahead.

Two figures, short and wiry, all joints and whip-like muscles. It took Enid a moment or two to realize it was a man and a woman—they both had rough dark hair, long and tied back with leather cords. Their clothes were a hodgepodge, wraps of leather and worn cloth held together with twisted rope, stitched and mended moccasins. Their skin was brown, sun-baked, and their gazes were wary.

Enid stayed very still, watching them enough so they knew they were watched. She tried to keep her gaze soft, interested but not too intent.

Dak focused on the guitar, and only slowly did he start playing notes, sliding gradually into music like the first drops of rain before a steady, calming drizzle. A light song, the notes were clear and simple, arranged in a rolling melody that repeated, shifted into a variation, then went back to the beginning. A simple exercise for Dak, but he let the song flow. Didn’t sing. The plucked strings were enough here.

The folk from the ruins stood still, listening for a long time. The notes seemed to hang in the air. Eventually, on Dak’s third song, they approached. The man had an unstrung bow and a quiver of arrows on his back. The woman had a metal pipe as long as her leg—clearly a weapon. For the moment she held it like a walking stick. Right now, they weren’t a threat. They did give Enid’s staff a look up and down. There was something equitable about the way they sized each other up, like they were deciding that yes, they were on the same footing and there’d be no trouble. An agreement that all would be well as long as they kept a certain distance between them—for politeness’s sake.

The third song finished and Dak paused. Their turn, now.

“Names?” the woman asked in a tired, broken voice. Like she was getting over a cough. “You’ve names?”

“Enid,” she said, hand on her heart. “This is Dak.”

“Star,” the woman replied, and pointed to her partner. “Rook.”

Enid nodded, accepting. Thrilled, really. She felt like she’d come to the end of the world and found it welcoming.

“Where you foot it from?” Rook asked next.

Enid started to say, “The Coast Road—” but Dak jumped in. “Just traveling. We’ve been all over.”

They nodded; they seemed to be familiar with the nomadic life.

“You been around,” Rook said next. “Any sign of storms coming up?”

“Rain south of here. Nothing too bad,” Enid said. They had a clipped way of speaking, and she found herself adopting the short tones. A careful way of speaking to people you weren’t sure of.

The man pointed out, a vague direction north. “Some wind coming up. Seasons changing. Best to watch out.”

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