Rave

Although relatively new to riding, Dem was starting to feel comfortable on horseback. He rode steadily, leaning over to one side while keeping an eye on the trail. The street rat pulled his yurka over his nose; only his eyes were visible. The tribals used the accessory to ward off the dust from the herds. It was basically a looped cloth that riders wore around their neck.

Within a few minutes, the open plains stretched out before them. A gentle night breeze rustled the long grass, which had lengthened nearly waist-high because of the nightly rains.

The small group hadn't ridden more than a few hourse before a single point of light appeared on the horizon.

Dem shook his head slightly. Their quarry had started a campfire on a cloudy night where the barest light could be seen for miles. As someone used to cities and dimly lit back alleys, he might have made the same mistake before Ai started educating him on trail life. Light discipline was something even the youngest tribal was well versed in.

The group pulled up after a few more minutes since noise traveled a fair distance on quiet nights. After settling the horses, the group of six readied themselves to advance on foot.

Dern rested on one knee while two of the Frostridge men readied their bows. The Huntmaster glanced at Taigon; since the victim belonged to the Frostridge Clan, he was flexible on the approach. "How do you want to do this?"

Taigon had exchanged his white-furred collared shirt from the feast for dark leather breeches and a shirt. "We wait until they sleep; the three of us will move in while my archers provide support."

"Why take Ravyn?" Dem interrupted. He understood that the Frostridge Clan must be hiding something; four men wouldn't sneak into a Clan gathering and take one girl. The risks were too high, and there were plenty of women in Thaigmaal. "How does she happen to be at the river on the edge of the gathering?"

Dern frowned at the newest Swiftwind member before muttering a curse but only because the Street Rat was onto something. "We're putting ourselves at risk, Taigon. Time to be forthcoming."

Taigon nodded slightly. "Cold steel.."

"Fuck..." Dern cursed.

The White Shaman looked tempted to pounce on the Frostridge Clan leader. "You kept this a secret from us?"

Dem glanced from the scowling Shaman to Taigon, who seemed content to stare at the ground in silence. "Cold steel?"

"An elemental ability," the Shaman explained. "It means she can imbibe steel with the ice element. More specifically, bladed and pointed weapons."

Taigon gripped his spear, wringing the wood like it was a man's neck. "We had a deal with a merchant in Thaigmaal, but he wasn't supposed to approach us during the gathering."

"That's because he changed the deal," Dem stated, his expression solemn. "He takes the girl and puts her to work for them." The street rat shook his head in disgust.

Taigon gave him a pensive glance. "We were naive. I just want to get my clansman back."

Dern nodded in agreement. "How should we approach this, Dem?" Surprisingly, the Huntmaster asked Dem for his opinion.

"No need to make it complicated," Dem diffused the situation, smiling at the White Shaman. "Can you bring in some fog, dosu? Waist-high will be fine."

The Shaman nodded. "You want to go in alone?"

"Yes, just long enough to get the girl," Dem replied. Although he'd never owned an elemental weapon, he had heard enough about them to know they were invaluable. "People like this will use the girl as a shield once they know we're here."

The Shaman raised a hand when the Frostridge Clan leader disagreed. "Dem should be able to sneak in undetected. The rest of this will be much easier if he can manage that."

Seeing the determination of Dem and the Swiftwind Shaman, Dern nodded after a moment. "Leave the rest to us. Once she is safe, Taigon and I will move in while the archers support us."

Dem knelt and waited, watching as the white-painted Shaman dug her brown hands deep into the soft ground between her knees.

***********

High overhead, the giant wingspan of an apex predator silently cut through the night sky. Then, it dived suddenly, its airspeed climbing to the point where its image was blurred. Just before the ground, it stooped, pulling out of the impending collision in a storm of sand and flying debris.

"Heh... This old man is still the wind." Dressed in black, the man took a cylindrical object from his backpack and held it at arm's length. Almost immediately, it started to pulse.

Bane walked in a straight line, letting the tool in his hands guide him. Finally, after several minutes, it glowed brightly. When he pointed it at the ground, he could feel the rumbling of power beneath him, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of gears turning. Within a few seconds, an immaculately polished obsidian pillar pushed up from the ground. "One down, four to go."

He ran a brown, weathered hand over the stone's glass-like surface. The markings were crisp and sharp, as if unaffected by the passing years. At eye level, there was a circular hole drilled into the pillar. "This will cause an upheaval," Bane sighed regretfully. He quickly traced the runes with a calloused finger causing them to glow dimly, before inserting the stone tool he'd been carrying; almost immediately, the pillar started to pulse with power, like the heartbeat of a giant beast.

Over the next hour, Bane located the other three pillars and activated them. Then, without pausing, he shape changed into a giant golden eagle and took flight.

A large square of nearly two miles across started to form. The sand sifted away like an hourglass as large geometrical objects began to take shape beneath the rapidly disappearing landscape. Within a few minutes, the sand was gone entirely, exposing the small city hidden beneath.

*************

Under cover of fog, Dem moved silently forward, his sharp eyes staring intently, even though his vision was severely limited. The sour smell of urine made him pause and wrinkle his nose in disgust. Apparently, their quarry couldn't be bothered to walk more than a few steps from camp before relieving themselves.

Kneeling low until only the top of his head was visible, Dem's eyes grew noticeably brighter. Within moments, the formerly obscure camp was exposed to his sight.

Two men lay on bedrolls near a campfire that was little more than glowing embers. A few meters to one side, a man used his saddle as a backrest while focusing on the tribal in front of him. He nudged her roughly with a booted foot. "Nigel is probably dead. Fucking Tribals..."

The girl's blue eyes seemed more angry than scared. Although only sixteen, it wasn't the first time her life had been endangered. She was bound at the ankles, which in turn were tied to her wrists. A split lip and swollen eye showed she hadn't been captured without a fight.

"You chose to kidnap someone and then become angry when they resist?" She smiled suddenly and shifted her weight. "Can't you untie my wrists?"

The man's eyes became vicious as his lips curled in a sneer. Before he could say anything, a brown hand reached around him and covered his mouth. The sound of a sharp blade being pushed through bone made the barest whisper. Dem eased the man forward and withdrew his knife from the base of the dead guard's skull.

"Demetri Swiftwind?" she whispered.

Dem nodded and stepped around the corpse to free the girl. He slashed her bonds and then grabbed one of her hands. "Stay close."

He retraced his path slowly. By the time they arrived at the edge of the camp, the fog had begun to clear. Dem entered the tall grass and took a knee. In a few seconds, the quiet evening erupted in chaos. Dern struck first, stabbing through one of the sleeping guard's chest, effectively pinning him to the ground.

The victim's dying gurgle alerted the remaining guard causing him to jump to his feet. Two arrows sunk deep into the man's chest before he could even touch his weapon.

"It's clear!" Dern's voice shouted from the campfire.

Dem helped the girl to her feet. "Ravyn Frostridge?"

"Rave to my friends," she smiled slightly. "After today, we are definitely friends."

Dem nodded in reply and motioned her to follow.

"Perfectly done," Dern grinned at Dem. The Swiftwind Huntmaster leaned on his spear while the rest of the group searched the camp.

"Thank you, Huntmaster Dern," Rave bowed low. Her blue eyes glanced at her Clan Leader, who was going through the saddlebags of the dead men. "I didn't expect that you'd arrive so soon."

Taigon rejoined them and handed Dern a leather bag. "We were lucky. You were only gone a few minutes before our Swiftwind friend's discovered it."

Dern peeked into the bag before pulling the drawstring tight. "We should go. Take the horses."

"Rave..." Dem glanced at the three dead bodies. "Did you hear them say anything? Were they headed back to Thaigmaal?"

Rave shook her head. "They were meeting up with someone tomorrow and then heading to some cave."

"Dweller's cave?" Dem asked.

Rave nodded again. "That's it."

"Know where that is?" Taigon asked.

"Not exactly, but I've heard it mentioned. It's a smuggler's hideout." Dem only knew it was west of Thaigmal, near the border. "We should take the bodies with us, then clean up the camp."

Dern considered the suggestion for a moment before agreeing. "Let's work fast."

In less than an hour, all evidence of the fight, campfire, and tracks had been carefully brushed away. The Shaman inspected the area from the back of her horse while the rest of the group waited. "Rain's coming. That should hide anything we missed."

"Is this okay?" Rave looped her arms around Dem's waist and leaned back in the saddle. With the corpses tied onto the spare mounts, they were short one horse.

Dem nodded with a straight face. The girl's pale hair and blue eyes were normal in her clan, but there was something nice about her face. "Hold on tight; my dosu will be mad at me if you fall."

Unexpectedly, the Shaman refused to let the girl ride with her. "Young people should ride together," she said slyly.