A Girl From Nowhere (The Firewall Trilogy #1) - James Maxwell Page 0,57

. .”

The skalen’s eyes narrowed. “I said they’re yours.”

“Thank you,” Taimin said again to Syrus’s departing back as the old skalen returned to the porch.

“You need it more than I,” Syrus grumbled and sat down again beside Lars. “Now go catch supper. Come home before dark. And Taimin?”

“What?”

“If you forget to put the pricklethorn bush back in its place, I’ll cut your heart out and feed it to your wherry for dinner.”

Taimin smiled as he left the porch to walk through the fence and over the planks that crossed the spiked ditch. He saw Griff waiting for him and put his hand on the wherry’s back. Soon he was leaving the homestead behind.

Taimin returned as Dex plunged toward the horizon, leaving the landscape tinged red in the light of the crimson sun. The area around Syrus’s homestead teemed with game. Raptors, lizards, and even a scrub rat lay piled across the wherry’s saddle.

As he rode Griff’s broad back and traveled the narrow canyon, Taimin was again struck by the sense of returning home. At the same time, he wondered about the lives of the people who lived in Zorn. He didn’t want to go to the white city alone, not without Selena. When she had been given a chance to wall off her power, she hadn’t taken it. The Protector might still be able to help her. Taimin held on to the deep hope that his injury might be healed.

Taimin found Lars outside the homestead’s fence, hauling dried cactus to a growing fire while sweat poured from his bald head in rivulets. Taimin marveled that Lars could have such a thick beard in the heat. He couldn’t imagine the big man without it. With Taimin still riding, the swiftness of his arrival took Lars by surprise.

“By the rains, lad. You’ve only got two speeds, don’t you? Slow and fast.”

Taimin slipped off the wherry’s back. “Here,” he said as he untied the strung-up rat from Griff’s rump. “I’ve got dinner.”

“Scrub rat? Not for me, thanks.”

“That’s for Griff.” The fat rat fell to the ground with a thump. The wherry whimpered in anticipation. “Just a moment,” Taimin murmured, patting his side. “This is for us,” he said to Lars.

Taimin unstrapped the raptors and carried them to Lars two at a time, laying them down on a flat rock nearby. Then he fetched the dead lizards, while Lars looked on hungrily.

“I’ll take care of these,” Lars said.

Spying movement, Taimin saw Syrus standing high on the cliff above. The old skalen gave a beckoning wave. Taimin shielded his eyes and waved back.

“What does he want?” he asked.

“Knowing him, you’re in for a deep talk.” Lars gave a jerk of his chin. “There’s a path leading up there behind the house.”

Taimin headed for the back of the shack, leaving Lars skinning the lizards while Griff bit into the scrub rat with stomach-churning crunching sounds. He soon found the path and climbed up, surprised at the old skalen’s agility when he saw how precarious the trail was. He was panting by the time he made it to the top of the cliff; the day’s hunting had taken its toll, but if Syrus could make it up, then so could he.

Syrus stood close to the cliff’s edge and was gazing out over the landscape. As Taimin approached the old skalen, he realized that from his new vantage point he could see past the other cliffs and over the surrounding area. Most of the terrain was made up of varying shades of red and brown, but green spots marked out cactuses, and even a few gnarled trees fought for survival.

Taimin came to a halt beside the skalen, but as time passed Syrus remained quiet. Taimin opened his mouth and then closed it, before deciding to break the silence.

“You must know this land well,” he said.

Syrus didn’t stop looking at the expanse. “I suppose I do.”

“When I was small, we lived near some cliffs and I used to stare out at the land below,” Taimin said. “I wondered if what I could see was the entire world, or whether the world was a thousand times bigger. I wondered if I’d ever know.”

“Good questions,” Syrus said. He turned to face Taimin, but rather than smile, his flat, lizard-like face was unusually sober. “Worth asking.”

“What is it you think about?” Taimin asked.

“I like to think about water,” Syrus said seriously.

Taimin frowned, puzzled.

“Once there was water in the wasteland, out in the open,” Syrus continued. “Rivers of it, and lakes, and even