GODSWAR: The Mask of Ares, Chapter 7

Quester and Ingram were now on their way...

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Chapter 7.

How much longer do you wish to continue tonight? Quester asked.

Ingram shrugged. I was thinking of pushing through until tomorrow night, then rest. It gets us a good push forward and back onto a normal schedule. Unless you don't feel up to it?

I was designed to continue for days, if necessary. If you think you can handle it, little human, by all means, let us keep going until night again falls.

Someday we'll find out which one of us would actually fall first, but this won't be the day.

There was genuine humor in that mental message, and that made Quester feel much better. Ingram was recovering from the shock and starting to sound like his old self.

Oh, there was no doubt a lot more to come – even when they'd been traveling, it had been clear that Ingram had a lot of secrets in his past, and Quester felt that there were questions he needed to ask soon – but his friend was no longer near a breaking point.

He flicked his antennae in amused disbelief. He would never have believed that it would hurt him so much to see a human in such pain … but then, until he met Ingram, the thought of considering one a nestmate had never occurred to him. Now that he thought on it, such things had been known before; the memory of the Mother before him showed him some other human faces in the tale of the Nests.

He barely repressed an annoyed buzz. A thousand pieces of trivia are mine at a thought, yet understanding my purpose? Mother, why? Is it that I am so hopeless that I cannot understand what is completely obvious, or is there a reason that even I cannot yet know?

At least the two of them could keep a good pace; his vision at night was vastly better than the human norm, and Ingram's goggles gave him more than adequate sight for this. Beneath the canopy of the Forest Sea, it was nearly dark as within a cave.

The growth became thicker abruptly. "Ha," muttered Ingram, "We’re at the clear-cut."

A moment later they had burst out into the cleared area along the Great Road. Up to ten miles wide, it provided both safety and land for cultivation by those willing to live outside the protection of city walls. Farmers, hunters, and others who needed to make their living from the land often banded together to make safe retreats, small villages and fortresses, and they were also some of the best customers of the wandering Adventurer.

To the east, perhaps a mile off, was the dark bulk of just such a local fortress. To the west, beyond the horizon, the glow in the sky showed where Zarathanton itself sat, the greatest city in the world, so huge that its very lights could guide people to it from fifty miles away, perhaps more than two hundred thousand people in one walled city about the Palace of the Dragon King.

A city that now has no Dragon King within the palace itself. A sobering thought.

They'd come out before a pasture surrounded by high fences; it didn't take long, however, to find a door in the fence and pass through.

"Sithigorns," Ingram said; the figures of the large riding-birds were visible in the blue semidarkness beneath the bright stars. A few of them lifted their heads and gave querying burbles. Ingram grinned. "Cute things."

"So long as they do not see us as threats, perhaps. I do not want to be on the receiving end of their beaks or claws."

"No, that wouldn't be fun. But don't worry; these are obviously well cared for and happy. If we don't go right up to them, there won't be a problem."

"We could purchase a pair."

"I'm tempted, but we aren't really equipped or provisioned for mounts, and we might end up going through terrain that isn't friendly to them. Best to stay on foot."

"We will make good time across here," Quester said, spreading his antennae and tasting the air. "We could head to Zarathanton or perhaps directly to East Twin and take a ship south; that would bring us to your home as swiftly as might be."

Ingram shook his head emphatically. "No. You heard the message. I can't use any of the established routes, land or sea. Near as I can tell, they want me to get there without anyone even being sure I'm close to home. Why, I don't know, but it's pretty clear to me."

"So, what route do we take?"

"If nothing changes?" Ingram was silent for a few moments; his scent was that of someone thinking very hard. "As much dead south as we can manage, I think. That'll take us through the south reaches of the Forest Sea – hopefully no one will even think about us taking that route – and we'll come out on the coast east of Shipton. Then we can just follow the coast, skirting the west edge of Wisdom's Fortress and that'll take us straight to Aegis." His voice shifted on the last word, wistful and sad and eager at the same time.

"That is the capital of Aegeia, yes?"

Ingram gave a grimace. "Well … yes. For most purposes. Aegeia isn't … isn't always one country, exactly. Aegis and the surroundings are the main state, the gateway to get anywhere else, but the interior's got five other major cities, each claiming their section of the country – Lyra, Velos, Demati, Talaria, and Amoni Agapis. They've each got their own patron among the gods, and during the Cycle, they take sides until the Cycle's resolved. Then it's all one country until the next Cycle, under Athena's rule."

Quester considered that as they continued. "It seems … rather chaotic."

"I guess. From the outside it must. I was raised with it, so it seemed perfectly sensible to me when I was a kid." He sniffed. "Hey, what are you laughing about?"

"You are only, what, fifteen, perhaps? A child still, I would think, yet you speak like an elder. 'When I was a kid,' yes?"

"Oh, be quiet." Quester could see Ingram's grin even through the darkness. "That is kind of funny, though. You're right."

They hastened their footsteps, and in about an hour reached the smooth, hundred-yard-wide Great Road, its surface unblemished. What sort of enchantments or materials had been used in its making, Quester could not imagine; the Great Roads had endured since before the beginning of the Chaoswars, from the age of legend, half a million years before.

Crossing the Great Road was a matter of moments, and now they were in more ordered growth of trees, a tree farm providing lumber for cities and villages alike, with wide pathways through it that turned in graceful curves, to allow easy transport of logs when each section of trees were cut. Quester felt his antennae quiver; there were many magics active here to keep the trees growing swiftly and true, to exclude pests, and so on.

Which was likely why he did not sense something approaching until the air above him rippled. Ingram!

The young Adventurer rolled to one side and drew his weapon in one motion, even as the new figure dropped to the path before them.

Ingram froze. "URELLE?"

The scent from the girl was unmistakable – as were her exhaustion and triumph. "Found you!" she gasped, steadying herself against one of the tree-trunks. "You people move fast."

"You… You've been maintaining an airwing all this time?" Ingram was astonished, and Quester felt the same; maintaining a spell uninterrupted for hours was a very impressive feat of will and focus.

Astonishment gave way to a different emotion. "What in the name of Athena Herself are you doing here? Your aunt will kill me!"

"And me as well," Quester said. "Ingram, you may have to go on for a while alone. I will have to conduct Lady Urelle back to—"

"I am not going back yet!" She managed to straighten. "You're in danger – both of you. I came to warn you – and help if I can."

"But you…" The tang of frustration was overwhelming, but it faded as Ingram got control of himself. "What do you mean, danger?"

"Four people, I think all human. They have something that gives them a good idea of your direction, and they're marching to catch you right now. I heard one of them swear by Ares…" she hesitated, a smell of guilt mingled with determination, "…and since I heard a lot of your conversation, I have a good idea what that means."

"You heard … ugh!" Ingram ran his hand through his lavender hair. "All right. Four of them, you said?"

"Four. Two armored and equipped as warriors, one clearly a mage of some kind, the other I'm not sure; could be another mage or a channeler, or could just be someone who prefers speed and evasion to just wading in and taking a shot."

Quester tilted his head, then bowed in appreciation. "Perhaps we did not invite you, Lady Urelle, but your information is most timely. How close are they?"

"I think they're about three miles back right now, but they're hustling. They'll catch you about the point you reach the Forest Sea again, if nothing changes." She was following now, as Ingram had started walking again.

"Do they know about Quester?"

"I don't know. They weren't detailing their knowledge. I was lucky to hear as much as I did."

"True. Well, even if they do, they won't know about you. And three to four with a hidden weapon is a strong position for us. I think we should hustle ourselves, just enough so we have time to set up an ambush." He looked up at Quester.

After a few moments of thought, Quester nodded. "I see no better alternative. If they have some way of following you, we will have to deal with them sooner or later – most likely sooner."

"I could do something about that," Urelle said, "but not without a little time to work."

"Okay. We'll worry about getting you back to Victoria later. For now, let's move."

About an hour later they had reached the edge of the Forest Sea. "Here, Ingram. I believe this will be ideal."

The boy looked around and grinned; Urelle echoed him.

The terrain here dipped into a natural path, with banks above a small stream that led nearly due south. It was an excellent way to pass through this part of the Forest Sea heading in that direction. "You're right. This will work perfectly. We can take them from the ridge tops there," he gestured. "Let's walk down here about a hundred yards, then we'll get to the top and double back. Urelle, can you do that slippery-ground trick again?"

She nodded. "I definitely can."

"Then cast it right there, see? If you can make it cover enough area –"

She was nodding enthusiastically. "Then they'll slide into that shallow dip and it will be very hard for them to get out, at least for a few minutes. Yes!"

"Excellent thinking, Ingram. Then we can be in a position to fire from either side. If they will not yield, they will be in a very disadvantageous position. We may be able to capture them and get information rather than killing."

"I'd much rather do that, yes. The more information we can get…"

"Then let's do it," Urelle said.

Setting up did not take long. If they're following our track, or even just a sense of our direction, they should come right down here, Ingram thought.

I agree. This is by far our best chance.

The wind gently rustled the leaves, blowing from the north-northwest. There is a good chance I will scent them as they approach.

Good. Let Urelle know as soon as they're getting close. A flicker of concern. And we make sure to protect her first if things get bad, right?

Of course. She is still our responsibility, I suppose, as Victoria Vantage has hardly had time yet to read our note and accept our resignation.

Fifteen minutes passed quietly. Then the faintest scent touched his antennae. Humans approaching. More than one, though it will take time to sort out the scents and be sure it is, in fact, four. He nudged Urelle and whispered, "they are approaching. Prepare your spell."

Urelle nodded, and raised her hands, fingers poised.

As four figures came into view, making their way with deliberate speed down the little valley, Quester tensed himself for action. Nearly there.

A vibration through the air, and abruptly he smelled something else, close—

Multiple canisters fell from the air around them and shattered, discharging a blue vapor that billowed high and wide. He tasted something sharp, and his senses wavered, focus of eyes and mind blurring. He whirled, staggering, trying to bring his weapons to bear, but he could barely see anything.

Vague shapes moved towards him; Ingram stumbled upright somehow, anai-k'ota at the ready, but another wave of bluish vapor enveloped them; his friend fell where he stood, and despite all the desperate urgings of fear and loss, Quester slumped to the ground, his armored head striking the soft soil at an angle; and even though his eyes were always open, he saw no more.