darkened blade_ A fallen blade novel - Kelly McCullough Page 0,61
on Javan’s back after that, and I didn’t much like what I saw. Well before dawn he was swaying on his feet. As we went, I watched for any place we could conceivably leave him that he’d have a chance, but there was nothing.
The canyon itself offered no shelter beyond a few little half caves that would do no more than pin him in one spot for the dead. Above, the slopes were high and steep with hardly any cover between us and the snowline. The valley of Dalridia itself was barely low enough for trees. Within a few hours of starting up the path, we’d climbed past the place where even scrub brush could grow.
Oh, it was possible that he might find a narrow ledge well above the trail where he wouldn’t be visible to the risen passing below, but they didn’t hunt by sight alone. Hell, half of them didn’t have much left in the way of eyes. I had never made a serious study of the restless dead, so I couldn’t have told you how they did hunt. It was hard to believe scent was involved when you considered how terribly and strongly they smelled, themselves, but they were known to follow trails well enough, and there had to be something there. Perhaps they had some life-sense or could follow life-scents in some way analogous to magesight.
Whatever their method, leaving Javan to rest would be the same as leaving him to die. On the other hand, though he swayed and stumbled and sweated, he kept up hour after hour in a way that I don’t know I’d have been able to manage if we swapped places.
Two hours past dawn and shortly after we crossed the highest point of the pass, we came on another little half cave. This one was scooped out of the wall on our left. On our right the mountain fell away steeply to the next loop of the switchback far below. It was early yet, but Kelos thought this was the best place we’d find to catch a little nap.
When Kelos waved us over for a break, Javan simply lay down on the bare rock and was snoring in seconds. The rest of us sorted out the pack animals and chewed a bit of jerky and some dusty trail cakes before finding places to curl up. I was just thinking about setting watches when Kelos caught my eye and shook his head.
“I’ve got it,” he said. “You sleep.” And damn if he didn’t look as fresh as if he’d only climbed out of a featherbed ten minutes ago—I swear that the man is made of dragon hide and tempered steel. Also, I hate the way he seems to read my mind.
“All right,” I said. “But wake someone if you feel tired.”
As I settled into an angle of the rock, Faran sidled over. “Do you want me to keep an eye on him? I’m still pretty fresh.”
“No. The last thing in the world that we need right now is for you to get one of your headaches. If Kelos wanted to kill us all in our sleep we’d be dead by now anyway.”
“You’re not saying that you trust him?!” she hissed angrily.
“Not as far as I could drive him back in a fencing match with one hand tied behind my back. Not in the way that you’re asking about anyway. As long as our goals and his remain the same, he’s the best ally we could have.”
“And if that changes?”
“I promise to let you know far enough in advance to put a knife in his back before he suspects. Can I go to bed now?”
“Humph.” But she stopped arguing and her breathing eased into sleep shortly thereafter.
I had a bit more trouble, though I did fall eventually. When I blinked my eyes open next I had to assume that letting Kelos stand watch had worked out all right, since all of us woke with our throats yet uncut. He had stood guard over us for the whole five hours he thought we could afford to sleep without waking anyone. I’d have chewed on him a bit about not resting himself if he didn’t still look fresher than I felt.
We marched from just after noon to an hour or so before sunset without a break, and we only stopped then long enough to grab a mouthful of food and some cold tea from our waterskins. The mountains towered all around us, their reddish heads capped