AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“From?” I held my breath.
Callon blinked at me before finally answering. “No one knows for certain yet—the men carry no banners—”
“Then they’re mercenaries.”
“Aye, and they have Ferals for slaves.” Callon watched my reaction carefully as his words settled in. It could have been because he knew Ferals killed my parents when I was young or that it was a ballsy move to enslave Ferals, people who, by no fault of their own, were more animal than human. Who were wild and unpredictable. Or so most would say.
“It has to be King Eduart,” I said through clenched teeth. “Only Sierra Kingdom would have the hubris to think that was a good idea.”
“It could be Eduart’s ally,” Callon added carefully. “The Corvo Kingdom.”
Unbidden, my mind drifted to the princess, and I realized then why Callon hadn’t wanted to tell me. But we said nothing about it.
“Who’s got their senses on the mercs?” I asked, knowing it could have been any of the fifteen perimeter teams who watched our borders and telepathically communicated with Callon, the lead of all safeguarding measures.
“Lyra,” he reported with a dip of his chin. He knew in that, at least, I would feel slightly more at ease. She was new to the team, but she was fiercely dedicated and alert, and her hyper-senses made her an invaluable asset to the security of this place.
I grabbed a T-shirt from the trunk by my cot and absently sniffed it. It smelled clean, even if it didn’t look like it. “Have the mercs made contact?”
“No contact. In fact, Lyra doesn’t think they know we’re here.”
I frowned in confusion. “Then they aren’t here for us.”
Callon shook his head. “No, which is why we wanted to wait to see what they were going to do.”
“And?” I impatiently tugged my shirt over my head and snatched my tan headscarf from the table. “What are they doing?”
“Digging for something.”
My frown deepened. “Digging?” I deadpanned. That both surprised and unnerved me as I stepped out into the cool morning.
Tick popped up, and I bent to scratch her behind the ears, her left leg twitching as I hit the perfect spot.
“There’s nothing out there to dig for,” I thought aloud.
“Which is why it’s more unsettling than usual,” Callon added.
Mentally, I surveyed the valley, taking stock of what mercs could possibly be here for, if not for us. Aside from scant vegetation, old bones, rocks, and metals in the volcanic earth, there wasn’t much else.
Shaking my head, I peered out at our camp that covered the desert floor nearly as far as I could see. There was nothing to find here. That’s why we’d chosen it years ago. When we first fled to the old mining dwellings carved in the cliffs, they were shelter enough to keep what few of us there were hidden from the blistering summer temperatures. It was a place to rest, not a place to live. Now, though, it was a refuge—more than that, it was a proper settlement, a hodgepodge of wood cabins and tents that surrounded the mudbrick buildings storing our food and providing shade for the people to work in. Tanners, farmers, blacksmiths, doctors—our camp had become a proper town in all the ways that mattered, and now, potential danger had found us again.
As Callon and I wove our way through camp toward the stables, woodsmoke tickled my nose, and distant chatter met my ears. “They’re digging in the Rainbow Hills?” I clarified. The settlement was bustling as if it were already mid-day, people making use of the cool morning before the sun grew too hot and we all retreated into the shade again until nightfall.
“Yes. At the fork in the canyon.”
Some people nodded in greeting as we passed, likely wondering where we were hurrying off to, so I tried to smile with forced reassurance. But most were too busy cleaning laundry, dredging and filtering water from the wells, or tending to the gardens to notice us.
Stride unwavering, I looked at Callon, my mind sifting through the possible reasons the hills would be of any interest to outsiders. “It must be for the metals in the soil.” I wrapped my scarf loosely around my head and face. The sun was already warming my skin, and though I’d grown used to the heat, the sun remained relentless. I had the farmer’s tan and freckles to prove it.
Callon shrugged. “Yeah, maybe metals. Lyra wasn’t certain the last time I checked in, and I’ve been too busy harassing you to ask her again.”
Dusty’s gray and white spotted head bounced up as we strode into the adobe stable. It smelled of damp clay and manure, and a few other horses looked out to greet us. With limited resources, we had only the horses we needed, but they were necessary with such a vast landscape to patrol and our numbers growing every day.
Instinctively, my mind connected with his, and a featherlight tickle brushed the back of my mind. “Time for a ride, buddy,” I murmured, and I barely unlatched the gate before he nudged it open the rest of the way and walked into the sunlight that filtered through the windows. Dusty’s tall frame took up the entire aisle, and his hooves clomped over the stony earth as he made his way through the entrance and into the blue-sky morning.
Callon rubbed his hand over the mustang’s face, leaning into him like they were old friends. “Lyra said our uninvited guests only have a few guards. Do you want me to get Taggart and the rest of the team prepped for a visit?”
“No.” I hoisted myself onto Dusty’s bare back and glanced again at the tent city stretched before us. These people came here for sanctuary, and I wasn’t ready to cause a stir. “Not yet. I want to know more first.”
