Ignoring Taimin completely, the rover gave Gareth and Tess his own inspection. Taimin noticed that his dark eyes were cold and calculating. “Can I call my brother forward?” the rover asked. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and gave a short wave. The second rover dismounted and led his wherry forward.
“Wait,” Tess said. “We haven’t worked out the terms of this meeting.”
The second rover continued to approach.
“Please, tell your brother to wait,” Gareth said.
Taimin focused on the leader’s brother, a man with long blond hair almost as white as the leader’s. He was obviously younger, with a leaner build. His face was tanned to a deep brown.
Gareth and Tess took a step back. Taimin’s fascination became something altogether different as the realization struck him with force: his parents were afraid. Uncertain, Taimin stood just behind them.
“Where is your homestead?” the tall leader asked. “It can’t be far. You don’t have supplies with you. You’ve even brought your brat.” The rover’s eyes flickered to Taimin. The emotionless stare sent a chill up Taimin’s spine. “Thought no one could find you this close to the firewall, did you?”
Gareth and Tess continued to walk slowly backward, never taking their eyes off the two rovers. The brothers spread out, bringing their mounts with them. The leader took hold of something near his saddle and pulled.
Taimin heard a whisper, like the hiss of a snake, and the white-haired rover suddenly held a shining sword. Unlike Gareth’s blade of pale basalt wood, this sword was made entirely of metal. It looked sharp and terrifying.
Gareth and Tess continued to increase the distance between themselves and the rovers. “What do you want? We can trade,” Gareth said.
“We have nothing to trade,” the white-haired rover said. His lips thinned. “But we need your food and water.”
The leader’s brother drew a sword of glossy hardwood, similar to Gareth’s. Gareth held his weapon defensively in front of him. Tess drew an arrow to her ear.
The distance between the rovers and Taimin’s parents had shrunk. Taimin was frozen in place, watching his parents’ retreating steps. Gareth stopped directly in front of Taimin.
“My wife is an expert shot,” Gareth said. “Neither of you have bows.” He met the eyes of the tall leader. “You’ll be the first to go.”
Under her breath, Tess whispered, “Taimin, climb down the cliff. Go!”
As soon as she finished speaking, a flash of motion saw an arrow shaft sprout from her cheek and lodge itself in her skull. Taimin screamed. He heard his father roar and a strong hand shoved him.
Taimin broke into a run. He took short, sharp breaths as he raced for the cliff. But he couldn’t stop himself looking over his shoulder. He saw his mother lying completely still on the ground. A third man revealed himself from behind one of the boulder stacks, bow in hand. A second arrow darted through the air, this time aimed at Gareth. The shot went wide.
Gareth clumsily blocked a blow from the younger swordsman, and then gasped as the tall white-haired rover thrust his metal blade. The point entered the center of Gareth’s chest.
“Father!” Taimin cried. He came to a halt and wavered. He had to help his parents.
Gareth turned to face his son. “Go!” he cried. He shuddered as a thrust from the wooden sword pierced his side.
The white-haired rover called out to his companions as Taimin resumed his sprint. “Leave the man breathing. We need to find his homestead. Stop the boy.”
Taimin reached the cliff. Something clattered against the rock at his feet and he saw a wooden arrow with feather fletching. He faced the precipice and blanched while he teetered on the edge of the escarpment, forced to choose between two horrors.
Another arrow shot past his head and he lost his balance. He fell and rolled, legs slipping and scrabbling as they sought purchase on what had become a rockslide. The drop beckoned, a fall of over a thousand feet. Taimin took hold of a big rock with both arms to slow himself, but then it began to move.
The rock tumbled with him as he fell.
Taimin’s breath was knocked out of him as he hit a ledge, feeling the twigs and branches of an old wyvern’s nest arrest his motion.
Then the big rock smashed onto his foot. Half his size, he felt it crush the bones together as his ankle twisted to an impossible angle. The pain sent stars exploding in his vision.
Taimin moaned, too shocked to scream. He couldn’t even think of moving his leg, but when the stars faded he gritted his teeth and looked at the top of the escarpment.
He was only twenty or thirty feet down, but it may as well have been a hundred. He knew his mother was dead; his chest squeezed as he thought of it. His father had been badly hurt; the rovers wanted to question him. Taimin tried desperately to hear what was happening.
He realized there was no sound except for the howl of the wind. The clash of arms was gone. Then he heard a loud voice he recognized as that of the white-haired rover.
“Where is your homestead, settler?”
“Burn you.”
Taimin stared up to the top of the cliff. Tears welled around his eyes.
“Ask him about the city.” It was a different voice.
“We’re looking for the white city. It’s supposed to be full of people, so maybe you’ve met someone who’s been there. Well, settler? Anything you can tell us?”
Then Taimin heard a man shout. “There’s someone else out he—”
The cry broke off.
More shouts came, one after the other. Taimin wished he could see what was happening. He fought the pain as he gripped the boulder with both arms and tried to move it off his crushed foot.
As the thunder of wherry feet filled the air, Taimin grabbed onto the boulder’s sharpest edge and pulled. His muscles strained with effort as he tried to get the weight off his damaged foot. His mother had always called him brave when he hurt himself.
His mother.
He struggled not to cry. She was dead.
The boulder rocked to the side. He renewed his efforts and grimaced. His hands found better purchase. Heaving with all his strength, he screamed when he rolled the boulder off his foot and it tumbled down the face of the cliff.
“Taimin?” He knew the voice calling from above. Aunt Abi’s face appeared at the top of the cliff. The big scar on her cheek matched the color of her wild red hair. Her disfigurement was old; Taimin had never known her without it. “Hold on a moment. I’ll get the rope.”
The coarse rope soon tumbled down the cliff and Taimin held on, his face contorted with pain while his aunt dragged him over the rockslide and up to the escarpment. Abi’s eyes widened with surprise when she saw his crushed foot, twisted with the bones crunching together like gravel in a sack. Her face registered surprise and something else . . . Sorrow.
She helped him up until he was sprawled out in the area that had recently been the scene of such violence. As she walked away, Taimin lifted his head. He saw his father, groaning as he gazed up at the sky. The rover with the bow lay dead with an arrow in his chest; his lifeless eyes stared without seeing. The two swordsmen were nowhere to be seen.
The realization that his father was alive sparked a moment of hope, but then Taimin saw his father’s gray face and the way he held his hands over his chest. A red stain had spread all over his torso.