Ungar picked up speed and Ingren hurried after him. They left the escarpment behind and she followed him over the rocky ground, through fields of boulders, and up and down rolling hills. Lizards scurried out of the way. Narrow-faced birds wheeled and cawed overhead. After hours of hurried travel, Ungar came to a halt at the top of a hill.
Ingren caught up to him, breathing hard. She followed Ungar’s gaze. He was looking down at the remains of a wooden building surrounded by a ditch. It had once been enclosed by a tall fence, but most of the fence was ruined. In the past, fire had claimed what appeared to be a primitive house, leaving behind charred timbers, and a few pieces of snagged cloth that fluttered in the breeze. The beams that made up the roof had collapsed onto the structure below.
Curious, Ingren scanned the tiny cactuses and spiky razorgrass poking up through the ruins. It was easy to think that nothing lived in the wasteland. This was her first sign of intelligent life. From her studies, she knew that skalen lived in dark caves, and mantoreans and trulls were nomadic. Most likely, either humans or bax had built this homestead.
“This was abandoned long ago,” Ingren said.
“That may be,” Ungar said. “But the trail is fresh.”
“Are you—?”
“Yes,” he said flatly. “I am sure.”
Ingren watched as he left the hill and began to circle the homestead. He kept his distance, head low to the ground, sniffing for the trail he had followed to this place. He lifted his head and called to her.
“I have the scent.” He pointed. “This way.”
“Is it them? The humans?” Ingren asked.
He was already striding away, and called over his shoulder. “Yes, Ingren. Now come. I am about to collect my first head.”
4
“I still say we should follow the firewall.” Vance anxiously smoothed his moustache. “It might take longer, but it’s safer.”
Vance led from the front while Taimin and Lars brought up the rear. Taimin’s right foot was aching already. He knew the others would be able to see him limping worse than usual. At least the swelling had gone down overnight. He was just going to have to grit his teeth and bear it.
They were following the bottom of the cliffs, which gradually lost height as they traveled. Taimin gave a slight smile when he saw the way Vance scanned the terrain and checked the sky, bow held at the ready. As usual, the former weapons trader was trying to prove that he could handle himself in the wasteland.
“The only way to be safe is to be quick,” Ruth said. She glanced at Vance as she walked just behind him. “The firewall curves. The fastest way to the other side of a circle isn’t to follow the edge.”
“There’s less danger near the firewall—”
“Don’t pretend you know the wasteland.”
“And you do?” Vance asked curtly.
“I haven’t spent my whole life in a city.”
“Quiet!” Lars growled from Taimin’s side.
Nonetheless, Taimin heard Vance mutter, “I just think that if we follow the firewall there’s less chance we’ll get lost.”
Taimin decided to speak up. “Ruth is right. We need to get there quickly. We’ll follow these cliffs to the riverbed and then we’ll know we’re on the right path. We have a map. We won’t get lost.”
Vance turned back to meet Taimin’s eyes. “But the firewall—”
“Is safer,” Taimin interrupted, “but only to a point.”
Vance clenched his jaw. He shook his head and spoke under his breath, but everyone could hear him. “There could be anything out there. It’s not like we can see what’s up ahead.”
“Vance . . .” Ruth said. Her cautioning tone made him look back at her. Ruth glared at him and then looked pointedly at Selena. Taimin saw Selena’s face in profile. Her expression was carefully blank.
Vance flushed. “I didn’t mean—”
“You know she would farcast if she could,” Ruth said.
“That’s not what I was trying to say,” Vance protested.
“Enough!” Lars brought the conversation to a halt.
Taimin saw that Lars’s expression was worried as he scratched at his thick black beard. The big, bald skinner had survived the wasteland for longer than any of them, and Taimin trusted his instincts.
“Can you walk any faster?” Lars asked bluntly. He scanned the flat plain bordered by the cliffs. It was midmorning and Dex was rising, which meant that the sun’s golden rays all came from the same direction. “We need to get past this cliff. Our shadows mark us out.”
Taimin looked at the cliff. Rather than a sheer wall of rock towering above, it was now lower and made of pale, crumbling chalk. Every member of the group had an enlarged silhouette marked against the white face. With a grimace, he tried to pick up his pace. “Better?”
“Not really.” Lars’s gaze continued to sweep the horizon. “I don’t like being exposed like this.”
Selena slowed to wait for Taimin and Lars. “It’s fine, Taimin,” she said. “We’re all tired.”
Taimin felt tension in his shoulders. “Lars is right. We need to get past these cliffs. I’m slowing everyone down.”
He didn’t like the situation. Trouble was best avoided. Following the cliff had been a good idea; threats could only approach from one direction. He could never have known that their shadows against the white background would make them so visible.
“Wait,” Lars said sharply. He was squinting; looking into the golden sun made it hard to see anything on the plain. “What’s that?”
Taimin’s head snapped to the side. He stared where Lars was looking. Tiny tears formed in his eyes. His breath caught as he saw figures, but they shimmered like mirages. He soon realized they were becoming bigger. Then, a few seconds later, he could make out detail.
“Blast it,” Lars swore.
Taimin now saw a dozen or more man-sized shapes. They had spread out, making it clear that the group of humans had been spotted. “Vance! Ruth!” he cried.
The running figures became larger still. There were at least twelve . . . perhaps fifteen. Taimin’s group was outnumbered. The figures had squat, toad-like bodies, thicker in the torso than humans, and ran with a hunched posture. A thick spine ridge was their most distinguishing feature, and they wore armor of hardened leather.
Taimin’s heart raced. He was looking at a war party. Each squat figure carried an axe, club, or sharp wooden spear. Most were males with blemished skin, but there were a few females with pinkish cheeks; all had deep-set eyes.
“Hurry up!” Lars yelled at Vance and Ruth. “Bax!”
Taimin shot a glance at Lars. “There’s too many of them.”
Lars spoke swiftly. “Bax are followers. We have to capture the leader. It’s the only way.”
Urgency fired through Taimin’s veins. He gave a sharp nod. “I’ll take him out.”
Lars was right. Taimin had to seize the initiative. He swiftly drew his sword from the scabbard at his waist. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he began to walk forward. At his back he heard his companions readying their weapons.
Taimin singled out the leader – a bax with a thick neck, powerful shoulders, and a purple stain on the side of his face. The warriors on either side of him followed in a ragged line. The bax leader hefted his axe as he charged. He was brave and well ahead of his group, eager to be the first to make a kill.