A Girl From Nowhere (The Firewall Trilogy #1) - James Maxwell Page 0,31
side by side with Selena. He sometimes glanced at her and thought about her curse, and although he didn’t say anything, he felt remorse for ever doubting that what she could do was real.
As the journey progressed, the fear of a deadly encounter drove them on. Lars always reminded them that with bax destroying homesteads and killing humans on sight, nowhere but the white city would be safe.
Now Taimin glanced anxiously up ahead. After a long day’s travel, the light was fading rapidly. They were following a snaking gully, an ancient riverbed where the occasional bush or skeletal tree framed what were once the river’s banks. The deepening shadows could hide anything.
A low howl might have been the wind, but the air was completely still. Taimin’s heart gave a jolt. “Did you hear that?” He cast a swift glance at Lars.
Lars nodded grimly. “Firehounds.”
Taimin tried not to look at Selena. He knew she would feel guilty for the erratic nature of her talent.
“We’d be boxed in if they found us here,” Taimin said. He became silent for a time, scanning the terrain as he walked with Griff at his side. “There. See it? That big tree with the bush at the bottom. It’ll give us something to put at our backs.”
“Good idea,” Lars grunted.
But as they neared, Selena gave a low exclamation. She stopped in her tracks. “Wait. Look . . . There’s someone already there.”
The glow of firelight flickered against the gnarled tree that loomed over the gully. Taimin glanced anxiously at Lars. “Bax?”
“Maybe,” Lars said uncertainly. He made a decision. “I’m going to get a closer look.”
“I’ll go—” Taimin began.
“Lad,” Lars interrupted. “I might be old but I’m quicker on my feet. Both of you, wait here.”
Lars left Taimin and Selena to climb the bank of the dried riverbed. Keeping his body low, the skinner moved closer to the tree, before sinking to one knee and watching for a moment. Once Lars had taken a look at whoever was tending the fire, he scurried back to his two companions.
“A human,” Lars said in a low voice. “Looks like he’s alone.”
“It’s risky,” Taimin said. “Having a fire.”
Another sonorous howl filled the night, louder this time. Remembering the story of how Abi had got her scar from a pack of firehounds, Taimin tensed.
“Or smart,” Lars said.
Taimin thought for a moment. “He’d probably be happy to see us. The firehounds will avoid a group.”
Selena’s expression was wary. “What can you tell us about him?”
Lars shrugged. “He’s middle-aged. Got a stack of tinder.” He scratched at his black beard. “All right. We’ll show ourselves. There’s three of us and one of him. Just keep your wits about you.”
As they cautiously approached the gnarled tree, they soon saw the stranger. He had been seated as he tended his fire, adding more kindling from a large pile, but when he heard Lars announce himself he leaped to his feet and stared with frightened eyes into the darkness. Dark-haired and slim, with a short beard and an open face, he brandished a cudgel studded with thorns in his left hand. With a start, Taimin saw that the stranger’s right hand was missing, cut off at the wrist.
“We meet in peace,” Lars said.
When he saw that Taimin, Lars, and Selena were keeping their hands visible, the man’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but his eyes were still tight and wary.
The stranger made the same reply that Taimin had first heard as a child. “Trade brings civilization to the waste.”
Despite the ritual greeting, Taimin was older now, and wiser. The two brothers had said those words, and then killed his parents. The stranger might be a different sort of man, but he still held his thorn-studded cudgel.
“We saw your fire,” Lars said.
“I had to make a choice,” the stranger said. “There might be bax around, but there’s no use worrying about bax if a firehound gets me.”
“Makes sense.” Lars rested his dark gaze on the stranger. “We heard them too. Can we share your camp?”
The stranger looked from Lars to Taimin, to Selena. “How do I know you won’t murder me in my sleep?”
“What would we murder you for?” Lars said bluntly. He cast his eyes over the stranger’s camp. “You don’t look like you have much.”
The stranger hesitated. “You’ve got meat?”
A familiar calculating expression appeared on Lars’s face. The skinner knew when there was bargaining to be done. “That depends. Have you got information?”
“I can tell you where there’s a grove of lifegiver cactuses.”