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The Seekers: Soul Ties
The Seekers: Soul Ties

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The Seekers: Soul Ties

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2021
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Seeing that threats alone weren’t going to work, Greta picked a target at random and pressed a claw into her cheek. Slowly dragging across the victim’s skin, her sharp talon left a long, red trail on its path. Her victim flinched, but the scouts held her tight, so nothing prevented Greta from making another cut. Bright-red blood ran down the victim’s neck, dripping beneath her armor. Still, there was no fear in those eyes. Pure hatred and rage, that was all Greta could see, making her face twist in a grimace of joy.

«I think there’s no sense in keeping quiet,» a voice on the left finally said, ruining Greta’s fun.

The other prisoners tried to jerk their heads towards the sound, but the scouts didn’t let them move their heads. Yet it looked like the same thought had already occurred in the rest of the prisoners’ minds. They were quiet for a while, probably unsure who should be talking. Greta stepped back, waiting for them to finish thinking.

The one on the right finally spoke. «We’re from the Rortring tribe. I’m Mas, next to me’s Abasi, and that’s Rohu. We were going to the Big Market to buy a few books.»

«Why weren’t you using a road?» Greta asked.

«We would love to, but without a properly protected caravan it’s too dangerous.»

«Why didn’t you have such a caravan?» Sabiri asked. «Silence!» she snapped when Rohu opened her mouth. «She talks, you don’t come to her rescue!»

Rohu gave her another glance full of hate but kept quiet.

Mas continued, «We can’t spare mounts or people for such matter. Books would help our tribe, but that’ll be in the future. Now we barely have enough not to starve.»

«So,» Shai started, «your chief thought so highly of your skills, that she sent you through a forest full of predators, swarmers, and other igni?»

Mas shook her head. «We really needed those books. She said that knowledge would help our tribe to survive, maybe even grow.»

«What books?» Greta asked.

«How to raise crops properly. How to lure prey. How to fight better – »

«You were fighting alright,» Sabiri interrupted her.

«With weapons, I meant.» Mas stared at the floor, her face already red. «With fists we just trust our instincts, but to use weapons properly we need knowledge.»

«What books specifically?» Greta asked.

«How should we know? Any books good enough would suffice.»

«Yet you were sure you could find what you needed there?» Sabiri interrupted her.

«Well, it’s the Big Market…»

«How did you know you had enough money?» Shai interrupted her again.

«We didn’t. Our Keeper of stories – »

«When were you supposed to come back?» Greta interjected.

«In a few weeks – » Mas didn’t know who to look at.

«How did you know you’d need that much time?» Sabiri didn’t let her finish.

«We’re used to traveling through the forest. We figured – »

«Where were you going to stay at the Market?» Shai cut off her explanation.

«In the „Safe travel,“ it’s a…»

By the time they’d run out of questions, Mas’s face was even redder, sweat was running down her forehead, her wide, frightened eyes searching the floor. But she passed the test: all her answers made sense, she wasn’t taking too long to answer, and the answers to the same questions varied slightly. All seemed legitimate.

«What are you thinking?» Greta asked Sabiri and Shai.

«I think she’s telling the truth,» Sabiri said. «I’ve heard about people traveling through forests in small groups. I don’t think she was making up those answers.»

«I agree.» Shai nodded. «We shall investigate their supposed tribe just to be certain, but she did sound convincing,»

«Alright.» Greta turned towards the prisoners. «We’re leaving now. The guards will untie you, but you’ll still be locked up here for a while. We’ll treat you as our „locked-up guests,“ with a hot bath, good food, and everything. Feel free to ask the guards for something extra, something normal prisoners don’t get. Any questions?»

Once again, the prisoners struggled to decide who should talk, but they didn’t waste too much time.

«For how long?» Abasi asked.

«No less than a week. Depends on how fast we check your words,» Greta answered.

«A week!» Rohu yelled. «We can’t waste another week! Our tribe needs us and those books!»

Greta put her hand on the hilt of her sword, and Rohu stopped yelling at once.

«You’re apparently one of the smaller and poorer tribes, judging by what you supposedly don’t know. But we’re more resourceful. If your words check out, we’ll give you those books as an apology. For now, try not to make too much noise.»

They left the prisoners in the cell and crossed the room to examine the prisoners’ belongings. They had short swords, as simple as you could get away with, just oversized knives without pommels or cross-guards. But they were sharp and pointed, although a bit off centered. Their bags were indeed half-empty, and there were indeed coins in them. Sabiri examined them closer: some small coins, some triangles, some squares – there was even oval-shaped money in there. Just one coin was gold, and all the rest were silver. A few looked like they were made in the same tribe; everything else was a weird mix of art styles, sizes, and quality. That could either mean bandits robbing people passing by, or a tribe that didn’t bother unifying the coins they received.

With no more questions to ask, the prisoners were left in the care of the guards. When the metal door slammed shut behind their backs, Sabiri realized that it was already evening. Three falling stars were trying to outrun each other, slowly gliding against the dark-purple sky. Nighttime birds filled the nicely cool air with their shrieking. The houses around them all had their windows lit, shedding warm, golden light on the street. The sounds of people having dinner, squeezing through the glass and window frames, made Sabiri’s stomach rumble.

«There are quite a lot of us today,» Greta said. «Let’s go to the inn and have dinner together. You could stay there until tomorrow.»

Everyone but Sabiri agreed. «I’ll join you later. I really need to send a bird home – they must be looking for me.»

«Come on!» Greta exclaimed. «Like we would leave you alone.»

Sabiri shook her head. «I’ve been here before, remember? I know where the Birds house is.»

«Oh, really?» Greta raised her brows. «Show us, then!»

Sabiri looked around. Strange. Just a few seconds ago I was sure where to go.

«Err…» escaped from her mouth.

«Let’s go!» Greta exclaimed. «After all, Shai could also be interested in sending a note home, as well as your scouts.»

Shai shook her head. «My people knew that I might be late.»

«Really?» Sabiri stared at her. «What if you were captured, or killed? Were they supposed to start worrying only after… How long?»

«A couple of days…»

Sabiri gave her a nudge on the shoulder. «A couple of days? I’m sure Iskrila is already anxious and waiting for me near the gates. After «a couple of days’ she would turn every last tree in the area upside down looking for me!»

Shai looked at her seriously. «You’re not some fisher, Sabiri, you never know what will happen in the next hour doing this job – »

Greta interrupted her. «And this means that nobody should be worried about you? Because it would be «okay’ if you went missing? Because «it’s your job’? Well, cool, at least let your scouts send a note.»

The Birds house looked as it would in any other tribe; a narrow building three floors high. The top floor had several glassless, thin windows. A small bird flew out through one of them, disappearing in the darkening sky. Greta and her scouts waited outside while the others entered the building. The first floor was filled with cages, many of which had occupants. The birds were making all sorts of noises, mostly talking among themselves, paying little attention to their new guests.

The keeper was sitting behind a small desk, completely focused on her work. She was measuring grain on shiny scales. The last person to cramp inside closed the door just loud enough to get her attention. She observed the company, unsure at first about who all those people were, then her face transformed into a smile. Apparently, she recognized someone.

«Welcome back, Shai! Are those your people?» the keeper asked.

«Hello, Abita.» Shai smiled. «Some are mine; the rest are from Coracastan. We weren’t supposed to be here today, so if would be nice to send word back home. I don’t know…» She counted the people in the room. «Three, maybe four birds might be enough.»

«Oh, that’s no problem.» Abita waved her hand. «Take as many as you need.»

It was too cramped inside to move freely, so the scouts quickly scribed their notes short and hurried outside. Sabiri chewed up her quill for a second, then snickered to herself and started writing.



She handed over their notes to Abita and watched how she tied them to a big bird’s leg. When Abita returned to the first floor after releasing the bird, Shai still wasn’t finished writing. She filled a whole piece of paper on both sides and sent it separately from her scouts’ notes. They thanked Abita for the help and went outside.

«What took you so long?» Greta asked.

«Shai wrote a whole poem to someone,» Sabiri said. «You think she has a new lover?»

«I don’t – » Shai tried to object.

Greta interrupted her. «Oh, that must be one of her old ones!»

«I wasn’t!» Shai yelled at her.

«I guess she wasn’t home for too long,» Sabiri theorized. «She had to give orders to absolutely everyone under her command!»

«You…» Shai snapped. «Why can’t you take this seriously?!!»

«Because you need to relax sometimes, Shai!» Greta laughed, looking at her red face.

Sabiri noticed that one of Greta’s scouts looked like she also wanted to say something funny to Shai but stayed quiet. Did she think that would be out of line? Or did Shai’s voice sound that scary?

Soon they reached the inn, a two-story building which looked most inviting. Large windows were shedding warm light. Door and window frames were freshly painted white. A big sign hanging above the front door, said «The full belly.»

Sabiri was sure that in better times it was usually full of people, but now there were a lot of empty tables. The innkeeper shined after seeing such long-awaited guests. She quickly pushed a few tables together, overfilled them with every kind of food and drink, and brought out a few benches. Instead of returning to her post, she asked to dine with them, and was delighted to be allowed to join.

Her name was Lisa. She liked smoked arnu meat and clare juice. Just yesterday she’d read a book on how to make vegetables taste like meat (Sabiri failed to understand why anyone would do that). She heard that they would run out of metal for arrows soon, so hunting would become more difficult. She—

These were clearly lonely days for her, as Lisa managed to talk more than everyone else combined! But Sabiri didn’t mind her, for it was a nice way to find out what was going on in the village. And her scouts eventually eased up around their mistresses as well and joined the conversation.

After eating and drinking a little more than they thought physically possible, after discussing everything that came to mind, they finally said their goodnights and went to sleep. Usually, Sabiri would share a room with at least one of her people, but Greta insisted that since there were no one else in the inn anyway, they should enjoy as much space as possible.

Sabiri immediately liked her room. It was lit by several jars of burning bugs and had a bed almost big enough for three people. The floor was covered by a piece of lite hide that muted her weary hoofsteps. A big window overlooked the tribe, letting in a stream of welcome fresh air.

She was too full and too tired to do anything else today. After covering the jars with pieces of hide, left there just for this purpose, she dove under a blanket and fell asleep almost immediately.

A white bow-knot

Iskrila felt like she was about to faint. She had just finished making yet another flaming arrow, putting it into a big barrel in front of her. She looked around, tired from hours of monotonous work and being constantly dizzy from that foul smell.

For whatever purpose this place was built for, it was quite roomy. There were a dozen more barrels like hers, all half-filled with flaming arrows. Those arrows were sharp tipped so they could penetrate the object they hit, and they were wrapped in rags, soaked with flammable oil and tar. Several workers sat at little tables just like hers, making arrow after arrow.

Flammable tar radiated a nasty, heavy odor from which there was no escape. It smelled as bad as rotting flesh, though wildly different, unique even. It felt like something invisible and oily was literally blocking Iskrila’s nostrils. All the windows were closed and draped with thick hides; the door was locked – there was no way anyone outside could see what was happening here. The room was lit with jars of burning bugs, for nobody wanted to risk having real fire near all this fuel.

The smell was really messing with Iskrila’s sanity, as well as with her breakfast, so she decided to stretch her legs. She covered one of the filled barrels with a piece of blanket, picked it up by the straps, and carried it outside.

The guards at the door recognized her and let her pass. Fuck, yeah! It’s so freaking great to be outside! She stood still for a while, listening to some faraway chatter and breathing clean, fresh air. As nice as it was, Iskrila remembered that lunchtime was approaching.

Horrible memories of yesterday flashed in her mind. The confusion and dread she felt when Sabiri didn’t return home. The anger at Star and Haileen as they tried to calm her down. The words they said.

«She’s not alone out there.»

«The other war mistresses are with her – like anyone would mess with them!»

Yeah, right, Iskrila thought. They would definitely not fall into Drowners’ trap! An army of swarmers wouldn’t mind eating them alive! A time vortex, or a teleportation veil, or any other sort of stupid magic crap wouldn’t appear right in front of their noses! I really should’ve given her my amulet!

Iskrila made herself stop. Her hand dove into a pocket on her belt and fished out a neatly folded piece of paper. When she finished re-reading Sabiri’s letter for the fifth time today, she was once again smiling, hopeful for a quick reunion. Sabiri would return tired and hungry, so Iskrila decided to cook her something nice beforehand.

Heading back home, Iskrila couldn’t help but notice just how the village had changed recently. People were whispering about the fight ahead. Far fewer were strolling the streets, even at daytime. The guards also looked weary. Everybody was on edge because of the task ahead. It did make sense, but…

Suddenly, a string of yelling and arguing kids sprinted by, almost knocking her down. She watched them go for a while. With their parents busier than ever, there was no one to keep them in check. Yet they were so lively! She was just like them once, so she chose not to be mad.

Walking near the Birds house, Iskrila noticed Berani, one of the lookouts. She called out to her unnecessarily – Iskrila would’ve stopped by even without invitation.

There were a bunch of sacks in front of Berani, some still tied to her tail. Judging by the sweat on her forehead, she had been carrying this weight for some time, and now was taking a break. The barrel was heavy as well, so Iskrila chose to follow her example.

«Hey, Iskrila, any word about when we’re starting?» Berani asked. «I had to cancel a few plans already. It would suck if it was all for nothing.»

«Hi to you too, Berani.» Iskrila scratched her head. «Didn’t Maia tell you?»

Berani shook her head.

«Sabiri said next week. If there aren’t more developments with her or Star, then we’re set.»

Berani’s face shone with joy. «Finally! I’m so tired of waiting for things to get back to normal! Well, thanks for the info. I need to go.»

Iskrila helped Berani load up with sacks, then watched her heading towards the pier. It was a neat idea to tie some of the sacks to her tail. Iskrila looked at her own. Why didn’t they have fingers or something on their tails? It would’ve been so useful! Feeling rested enough, she resumed her walk.

When she finally reached the storage, Iskrila was tired again. To an outside eye this place was nothing special besides the two guards posted at the door. After unlocking it and stepping inside, Iskrila immediately cursed everything in the world. The smell of flammable tar was even worse here! Trying not to breathe too much, she quickly added her barrel to the rest and locked the door.

That odor destroyed what little was left of her resolve of going back and finishing the arrows. Berani’s words made her wonder if there really were some developments. She had enough time to visit Star and to cook some lunch.

Unfortunately, when Iskrila knocked on Star’s door, no one was home. Where could she be? There was a person who would know, but did she really have to find her?

«Huh, I guess Star isn’t home.» Haileen’s voice ended Iskrila’s struggle.

Iskrila gave her a smile. «Yep. I don’t know whether I should go find her, or if I should return home and make lunch for Sabiri.»

«Sabiri should return soon, so I’d suggest you go home. I can give Star whatever update you wanted to tell her.»

«No, thanks.» Iskrila shook her head. «I’ll find her later.»

After saying goodbye to Haileen, Iskrila headed straight to the market. Most traders lived there, so they could watch over their wares while still being home. Butchers got many kinds of meat, mostly from the nearby forest. Iskrila wasn’t a specialist in how to catch prey, she just knew what kinds of meat she found tasty. The butcher helped Iskrila choose the tastiest lump.

Loaded with meat and separated from her money, Iskrila slowly continued on her way home. On the other side of the road stood tables with fish. Iskrila liked to catch a few herself from time to time, but she was hardly an expert.

Farther away stood shelves with armor and weapons. It was always pleasant to see her and her people’s work displayed for sale, but the stocks had been scarce lately. Iskrila wondered just how many people would sell their arms and armor once the battle was over. These days they were making their products much more simply and quickly, to arm everyone before the battle started. Soon those shelves would fill with rather crude pieces. She, of all people, knew that the quality wasn’t the issue, but the appearance… Those could be tricky to sell to strangers. She needed to talk to Star about making a deal directly with some poorer, smaller tribes that wouldn’t mind the way they looked.

Farther ahead there was a mishmash of stuff. Files for horns, claws, and hooves; pots, mugs, plates, brushes, soap, brooms – all sorts of stuff. The traders selling those immediately jumped at their chance to earn a bit.

«Hey, Iskrila! Look at a file I have! Rounded on one side, straight on the other – just for your claws!»

«Don’t listen to her! I got you a great file last time! Better take this broom! Long handle! I couldn’t believe just how much easier it was to clean the house with a handle this long!»

«She doesn’t need your stupid broom! Better take this robe! With a pocket for your tail! So warm when the weather’s bad!»

The first two sellers tried to stop Iskrila from leaving, but she ignored their calls. The third was standing at the last set of shelves and was selling clothes. There was all kinds of stuff there: underclothes that were smooth and light, robes that were thick and fluffy, shorts and pants that looked and felt strong.

But Iskrila’s eye caught something special. There was a shelf with various fal-lals: hide and leather bracelets, chokers, bands… Their various shapes and colors combined still couldn’t match just how bizarre one particular item looked. It was a white bow-knot. Made from the finest lace: so thin, so light – it was almost transparent. Just how long had it taken to combine the thousands of individual, incredibly thin threads, leaving gaps of air between them, painting this fine complex pattern?

Iskrila asked permission to try it on, then found herself unwilling to touch it. What if she ruined the beauty? She wasn’t careful enough to handle this delicate piece. Luckily, the trader came to her rescue. She lifted the thing from the table, then carefully placed it in Iskrila’s open palms. It felt completely weightless! Trying not to breathe, Iskrila carefully wrapped the straps around her neck and tied them gently. The bow-knot thing was huge – it stuck out farther than her chin! She couldn’t even look down without danger of messing up the thing.

«Do you like it? I’ve spent ages making it!» the trader said.

«You’re also a crafter? It’s definitely unusual and kinda cool, yeah, but I can’t look down in this thing, and I would immediately ruin it in my smithy.»

She looked at herself in a mirror – a crazy-looking freak stared back at her, smiling and giggling.

«You definitely shouldn’t take it to the smithy. You can wear it in your free time.»

At first, Iskrila wanted to refuse. Why would she need such a thing? Even if she was careful, just for how long would its beauty survive? But there was something cool in that freak that looked back at her from the mirror. Something unusual and wild.

«How much?» the words escaped her mouth.

«Fifteen gold.»

«Fifteen gold!» Iskrila wanted to yell. She could feed herself for several months for that much money! She could buy a full set of clothes! She… What, what «she»? This bow-knot was a work of art, and the trader clearly spent a lot of time and skill making it. She wanted to buy it! It was so beautiful and strange. What else would she do with her money? Why shouldn’t she spend it?

«This is a piece of art, so, here!» Iskrila was relieved to find enough gold and silver in her bag. «You did a great job!»

The trader snickered. «Thank you for your kind words, mistress. Please don’t worry – it may look fragile, but if you were to wear it gently, then it would prove strong enough to wear for years to come. You’ll see!»

Iskrila thanked her again and went home. Walking in this thing proved to be bizarre. The bow-knot was constantly putting pressure on her chin. With her every move, the fabric was rustling, scaring her shitless that she was crumpling it. But at the same time, it was so cool! No one else had anything like that. She couldn’t wait to show it to Sabiri!

Having finally reached home, Iskrila carefully took her gorgeous bow-knot off, put it away from harm on one of the shelves, then got to work. Quietly humming one of Edweena’s songs, she started to work. After starting the fire in her stove, she sharpened a knife and divided that wonderful pink meat into two huge portions. It was riddled with threads of white fat that would’ve cut easily even by the dullest of blades, but Iskrila liked her knives sharp. She made a few deep cuts and stuffed them with herbs that were teasing her nostrils already. Anticipating how delicious it would smell, Iskrila put their future lunch deep inside the stove. Every few minutes she collected the juice produced by sizzling meat and poured it over the cooking dish.

When the aroma started to become impossible to resist, the door swung open. With her heart racing with joy, Iskrila dropped her spoon and rushed to greet the visitor.

«Glad to see you too,» exhaled Sabiri as Iskrila flung at her with an embrace.

For a few more seconds, Iskrila refused to let go of her strong and warm body, listening to Sabiri’s heartbeat.

«It’s wonderful that you’re okay!» Iskrila let Sabiri go and looked at her face.

Sabiri was beaming with happiness back at her. «Sorry I’m a day late. I’ll tell you everything.»

«Before you do this, look!»

Excited to show off the beauty, Iskrila rushed towards the shelf, quickly put the bow-knot on, then turned around towards Sabiri.

«I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it! Isn’t it beautiful?»

That wide smile on Sabiri’s face! That half-opened mouth as she was looking for the words… Iskrila was so thrilled she’d bought it. She would give all the money in the world to bring Sabiri such delight! To make her smile! To make her laugh!

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