Completing the descent, Taimin reached the row of caves where he had found Griff. Hot air shimmered over the plain, causing everything but the largest rock formations to waver. He scanned the sky, and looked both ahead and behind him, always searching for threats, the way he had been taught. Satisfied, he walked a little farther until he found a hollow in the rocky ground. He then poured out a small amount of water, which Griff greedily lapped up. While Griff drank, Taimin checked the wherry over, pleased to see that the peck marks on the sand-colored hide had healed.
“You ready?” Taimin asked, but he could already sense that Griff was eager to run. As he felt his own excitement rising, he gripped the horn at the front of the saddle he had made, and mounted.
The wherry immediately bounded forward, eager for the hunt and the chance to stretch his legs. Taimin leaned forward and held on hard. Air rushed past his ears, but he easily kept his seat. Griff pulled toward the cactus field, and Taimin let him choose the direction. The pace settled to a steady run, and Taimin readied his bow, on the lookout for raptors and rock lizards.
Griff soon hunted down two big lizards on his own before wearing himself out chasing a third. Taimin let him rest near a basalt tree crowning a knoll where he had a good view of the plain, but Griff wouldn’t settle while the raptors in the tree shrieked down at him. Taimin shot one of the ugly birds and tied it to his pack while the rest fled. He smiled to himself as he dragged Griff away; the raptors would return, and Griff hated raptors.
Lux finally rose, giving the terrain another shade entirely, adding the color of blood to the landscape. With the golden sun close to the middle of the sky, Taimin decided to find somewhere to escape the heat.
He led Griff by the reins and directed the wherry to a ravine they had sheltered in previously, with steep walls that cast the interior in perpetual shade. Griff’s calm demeanor made Taimin confident there was nothing dangerous hidden within, but he still scanned as he descended, before allowing himself to settle in and slip the pack off his back.
Griff ate the raptor, crunching the bones in his strong teeth while Taimin drank sparingly from his water flask. It was still too hot to resume the hunt, and Griff finished his meal and sprawled out on the ground. His eyelids closed, and the wherry’s broad chest rose and fell while he slept.
Taimin sat with his back against the rock wall and thought about his aunt. He remembered seeing her gray hair and realizing that she was getting old. She had always taken care of him, but now he was beginning to worry about her. She was still spritely, but her movements weren’t as swift or sure as they once were. If something happened to him, she wouldn’t have anyone.
Thinking about his aunt made him reflect on his parents. One thing he was sure of was that Gareth and Tess had loved each other. He knew he was now a full-grown man. Abi would die one day, and he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to have a companion to share the red and gold sunsets with. Someone to travel with. Someone his own age, who shared his curiosity about the wider world.
The time had come. When he returned to the homestead he would talk to his aunt, and they would both make the journey to find a group of settlers. The homestead’s location made it safer than many other places, but there would also be safety in numbers. Abi was something of a loner, but she was practical enough to face facts.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sound.
Griff immediately lifted his head. His floppy ears pricked slightly and his eyes narrowed, as if he had never been sleeping. A low growl came from deep within his chest.
Taimin carefully set down his water flask. He picked up his bow and nocked an arrow to the string. As he listened intently, he soon heard multiple voices with a gruff, sandpaper quality to them. The coarse throatiness was something he had never heard up close, but his aunt had described it to him, drilling him so that he would be wary of the creatures he might one day find himself fighting in the wasteland. The voices belonged to bax.
Taimin’s pulse began to race. His immediate impulse was to lift his head out of the gully, but he told himself to stay still and instead cocked his head as he tried to estimate how many there were. It was difficult at first, but the harsh voices were coming closer, and he soon knew that it was far from a small group. Bax hunting parties were usually no larger than a few warriors. This was four or five times as many.
Griff climbed to all fours and his growl became louder. Taimin laid a hand on the wherry’s flank. He shook his head and met Griff’s eyes until he stilled. Taimin was tense as he wondered what so many bax were doing on the plain, dangerously close to the homestead. He wished his aunt were with him. He couldn’t tell from their voices whether they were traveling with females and young. One thing he did know, from the growing volume of their calls and the thudding of their footsteps, was that they were traveling with speed.
He made sure Griff knew to stay where he was and then left the deepest part of the ravine to climb closer to the surface. He was already aware that the bax were on their way toward the gully. He kept his head down and body low while the rasping calls became louder. They were still a reasonable distance away when the sound changed. The bax were now past the gully and heading away. He waited until he was sure they would have their backs to him. He then raised his head.
The bax were in a hurry and didn’t see him as he watched their departing group. They were ugly creatures, man-sized but shorter and broader, with thick, knobbed skin and a ridged spine that jutted out from their backs, just below their necks. Taimin couldn’t see their faces, but he knew that their noses were small compared to their squared jaws.
His eyes widened as he realized he was looking at a war party. There were over a dozen male warriors burdened with packs, and all carried clubs, bone axes, and sharp spears. They wore leather armor but their splayed feet were bare as they ran and called out to one another. One had a bandage wrapped around his arm, which he held awkwardly at his side. Another warrior’s torso was strapped tightly with a strip of linen. The bandages were fresh. They had been in a recent fight.
Taimin’s heart beat out of time.
He forgot about the fact that at any moment one of the bax might turn around and see him. The water sack poking out of a warrior’s pack was frayed at the seams. It looked familiar. Another bax was carrying a well-crafted spear. It was Abi’s. A bundle of kindling looked like poles from the barrier fence.
In moments the bax were gone. The shock was so strong that Taimin felt sick. He gave a piercing whistle and Griff bounded out of the ravine. Taimin immediately threw himself on the wherry’s back and dug in his heels. He headed directly for the homestead.
The plume of smoke added to Taimin’s horror. Sensing his urgency, Griff flew over the uneven ground, bounding over gullies and swerving past boulders, kicking dust behind him.
Taimin roared at Griff to hurry. He passed the first body, hundreds of paces from the homestead. He barely registered the bax warrior other than to note that he had two of Abi’s arrows sprouting from his chest. He saw a second body, and then a third. Abi had encountered them while away from the protection of the barrier fence. She had fought a retreating action, sending arrows at the bax while they tried to outflank her.
As Taimin approached the homestead he pulled up sharply. Part of him read the tracks and scanned for threats. Meanwhile he gripped his bow with white knuckles, desperate for a sign that his aunt was still alive.