Deepwoods (Book 1) (34 page)

As they’d learned from previous experience, a path buried in
snow did not work well.

Another body slammed suddenly into hers and she stumbled
back a step with a grunt of surprise.

Two strong hands caught her arms and steadied her. “Sorry,
Siobhan, sorry!” Conli apologized, but he was already pushing past her and
running before the words could fully leave his mouth.

She blinked, startled, but instinct had her turning and
chasing after him. Conli rarely looked rattled, but when he did, it was usually
because someone was seriously hurt. “What happened?” she asked, lengthening her
stride into a jog.

“Pyper came to me with a message,” he said, not slowing his
pace. The dog, hearing her name, barked once, tail wagging, but she kept
running too. “Wolf and Tran are hurt.”

“WHAT?” Siobhan demanded in open dismay. “Weren’t they with
Beirly building something?”

“A cart, yes, near the docks. Someone over there lent them
the tools. Denney’s message wasn’t long on explanations. She just said grab a
bag and a lot of bandages.”

Well that didn’t sound good.

Siobhan followed close on his heels, weaving through the
narrow, maze-like streets of Sateren. Pyper ran ahead with great confidence, as
if absolutely sure of where to go, but if not for her, Siobhan and Conli would
have gotten quickly lost.

Eventually they exited the city through the Sea Gate,
letting them out near the docks. The smell of the sea hit her strong here,
mixed in with fish, tar, and some other unidentified scents. Pyper went around
the corner, passing a dry dock with a half-finished ship on it, and through a
doorway that led into what appeared to be a warehouse. Siobhan blinked as she
went from sunlight to the dimmer interior of the building, letting her eyes
adjust. She barely processed the worktables on both sides of the room, and the
tools and wood shavings lying about before her eyes fell on the bloody scene in
front of her.

What looked like a half-finished wooden box lay on one side,
part of it smashed in. Next to it was a stack of cut lumber, which Wolf was
using as a seat. Wolf had a nasty cut at his temple, multiple lacerations and
bruises along his arms, and it looked like a large splinter was sticking out of
his thigh. Tran lay on the ground near the other side of the half-finished
cart, and his condition wasn’t much better. His nose looked broken, eyes
already swelling under the pressure, and the way that he had two hands
protectively over his stomach spoke of an injury her eyes couldn’t see.

Conli hesitated at the door, torn between whom to go to
first. “Who’s bleeding?” he finally blurted out.

“Tran first,” Wolf rasped out past a bloody and split lip.
“I think I might have broken a rib.”

Swearing, Conli dove for the other man.

Siobhan lifted her eyes to the ceiling and took in a deep
breath. She let it out again slowly. Another breath in. Another breath out.
“Beirly.”

Her handyman had been kneeling next to Wolf, as if preparing
to pull that huge splinter out, but as she called his name, he looked up
grimly. “Siobhan.”

“What. Happened,” she gritted out between clenched teeth.

“They got into a fight.”

“Obviously.” She pinned him in place with her eyes, making
him flinch at the obvious anger she was exuding. “Over what?”

“Um…who could work the fastest?”

“Why,
why
did you have them work on it
together
?”

“I thought that if they had a task to work on, they wouldn’t
get into pointless fights!” he protested in his own defense.

She honestly didn’t know who to kill first at that moment.
Beirly, for his good but misplaced intentions, or the other two for their rash
stupidity.

Breathe, she ordered herself sternly. Breathe. They’re some
of the best friends you have. You can’t give into temptation and strangle them.
“Conli. How bad is Tran’s condition?”

“Thank the gods he’s so sturdy,” Conli responded without
taking his eyes away from his patient. “I don’t think it’s broken, just badly
bruised. If we wrap it and he takes it easy, he’ll be fully healed in a month.”

“Wolf?” she asked steadily.

“Looks worse than it is,” Wolf assured her. “Head wounds are
always messy.”

“Good.” Another breath in. “Let me make this clear to the
two of you, as apparently you didn’t understand it before. If I find you
fighting each other
one more time
, I will
finish
what you start
and you won’t be walking home. As it stands, you’re on half pay until the end
of next month.”

Neither man dared to utter a peep of protest about that.

“Beirly.” She waited for him to look up at her. “Your next
task is to build a cage large enough to put them into it. If I see them even
arguing, one or the other will go into that cage, even if I have to stuff them
into it personally. You got me?”

He nodded vigorously.

Spinning on one heel, she whirled sharply about and stomped
out of the warehouse. “Rune!”

Like magic, he appeared at her side, landing from…somewhere.
Where had he been perched this time, anyway? She hadn’t even sensed his
presence. It was his habit of always spying on people that led her to believe
he was nearby.

“Yes?” he asked, lengthening his stride to keep up with her.

“Lead me back to Iron Dragain, I have no idea how to get
there,” she ordered sharply.

“Yes ma’am.” He eyed her sideways as he led her back through
the Sea Gate and into the city. “Yer…scary when mad.”

She gave him a cutting glare. “Then why aren’t those two
louts intimidated?”

“Don’t know,” he admitted frankly. “
I
am, and I ain’t
the one in trouble.”

Siobhan snorted. Maybe after so many years of being exposed
to her glare, it had lost its impact on those two?

“If they fight again, ya can always tell ‘em I’ll
assassinate the next person that starts it,” Rune offered helpfully.

Siobhan lifted her lip in a snarl. “Don’t tempt me.”

In an effort to move things along and get home quicker,
Siobhan ordered every able-bodied man—this excluded Tran, whose ribs were too
sore and tender still—to help Grae build a path to Quigg. Since they had an
accurate head count, and knew how much weight to calculate for, Grae could
start building the path that very moment. She expected him to build a sunflower
pattern, as that would be more than sufficient not just for their own group,
but any future groups of people and equipment Jarnsmor sent down. Grae
surprised her by announcing that morning over breakfast that he instead felt it
prudent to build an evergreen pathway, something capable of handling over one
hundred people.

Siobhan had outright winced. The evergreen pattern took a
lot
of stones and it would not be an easy matter to collect enough for a path
back to Quigg. Grae calculated that he would need 5,670 stones in order to
build the path.

Everyone groaned— well, everyone except Rune, who hadn’t yet
had the dubious pleasure of assisting Grae in pathmaking. He followed along
with a curious look on his face as they all trooped out of the city and toward
the coastline. Grae had scouted out a good location for a path the day before
while waiting for exact numbers to come through, so he led them straight to a
spot that was up above the tide line but close enough to the sea to gather
water as needed.

Grae cleared his throat as his stone gatherers looked to him
for guidance. “Alright, everyone, I mostly need stones that are about the size
of a kor. However, if you find a flat one about the size of your clenched fist,
let me know. I need those for centerpieces. Understood? Good, go.”

Rune followed Siobhan as she headed for the beach, the most
reliable and rich hunting ground for stones. In an undertone, he asked her,
“What am I looki’n for?”

“I’ll show you,” she assured him, spitting hair out of her
mouth. Lovely, the wind was picking up over the ocean. Perhaps she should have
worn a hood today. “You have much experience with paths, Rune?”

He shook his head. “Just when we used ‘em to get from Vakkoid
to Sateren.”

“Really?” she gave him an odd look. Pathmakers were unusual
in the world, but not
that
rare. Most people had traveled by path at
least once. “That was the only time?”

“Never left the city,” he explained simply.

“Is that right. Then I better tell you the basics.” They
hunkered down in the wet sand, combing through it for stones. As she worked,
she explained how pathmaking worked and the rules he needed to follow while on
an open path. He listened with the same sort of rapt attention that Markl had
when he first asked Grae how it worked.

When she finished, Rune sat back on his haunches and mulled
all of that information over for a moment. “So if a path is made, anybody can
use it?”

“Not quite,” she corrected. “Any
Pathmaker
can use
it, yes. You have to have the talent, not just the know-how, to use a path.
Grae is actually being quite kind in building as large of a path as he is. He
doesn’t need to, y’know. A smaller pattern would work just fine for the group
we’re taking down to Quigg. But he’s making one that a future Pathmaker can use
to bring down supplies with so they won’t have to make another path.”

“Oh.” Rune cocked his head slightly. “So there’s different
levels?”

“Quite a few. Grae has told me about eight of them. We tend
to only use about three, though, as we’re always going about in groups.”

Rune twisted slightly to look over his shoulder. Grae stood
some distance off, sorting through the stones people brought him. He’d brought
a tarp to kneel on so that he wouldn’t get his knees wet and dirty while
working. Rune watched him for a long moment before asking slowly, “How good is
he? At pathmaki’n.”

“He’s a genius. Literally.” Siobhan smiled when Rune’s head
whipped back around, his eyes wide with surprise. “You wouldn’t think that by
looking at him, would you? He’s such a quiet, humble man. But he invented a
pattern eight years ago that took pathmaking to a whole new level. It used to
be that caravans could never go by path as they were simply too large. None of
the known patterns could carry that amount of weight. But Grae invented the
coral pattern, which changed all of that. It’s because of his pattern that we
can take caravans on as escorts.” And made a ridiculous amount of money doing
it, too.

Rune’s brows furrowed a bit in a puzzled frown. “If he’s
that good, then why…?”

“Why be in a small guild like Deepwoods?” she finished the
question wryly. “Many people have asked him that. But Grae isn’t the type that
does well in large groups of people. He’s far more comfortable in a smaller
guild, where he only has to interact with a certain number of guildmates on a
day-to-day basis.”

He didn’t ask another question, but his expression said he
somewhat understood that.

They shifted through the sand for a few moments in silence.
Siobhan had quite the pile at her feet. She’d need to bring these to Grae in a
minute, before the weight became too much to carry. Stones added up quick.

Rune dug out a larger stone and held it up next to his
clenched fist.

“Oh, that looks good,” Siobhan noted in approval. “Take that
to Grae, see if he likes it.”

With a nod, he rose to his feet.

“And take these with you,” she tacked on quickly, handing
him the cloth bag of her own stones.

He gave her quite the look for that, but scooped up the bag
without comment and strode off.

As soon as he left, Markl shifted from where he had been
gathering nearby and came to kneel next to her. “Siobhan, I have to ask—how
serious are you in keeping that boy?”

Her eyebrows rose in question. “Quite serious. Why?”

Markl let out a breath of relief. “I was hoping you’d say
that. You’re aware that I’ve been teaching him to read?”

She’d seen their daily lessons often, so nodded
confirmation. “Yes, how’s that going?”

“He’s an amazingly quick study,” Markl told her with a
twinkle of pride in his eyes. “He memorized the Wynngaardian alphabet so quickly
my head spun. Right now he’s learning short words.”

Her eyes nearly crossed. “In
six days?”

“His intellectual capacity is incredible. Every time I sit
down to teach him, I’m astounded all over again by how fast he learns. Given
some time, and dedication, he could become a scholar.”

A former assassin becoming a scholar. Her mind couldn’t
quite wrap its way around that. “Did you tell him that?”

“Well, I’ve complimented him, but I didn’t want to say
anything until I was sure of what you intended.” He leaned in a little more,
tone lowering to a more confidential level. “You will tell him soon that you
want him to stay? I don’t think he really feels like he can.”

“I’ve been trying to find the right moment,” she answered,
shrugging. “Maybe while we’re building the path I can find a way to bring it
up. You feel like he would, if he felt welcome?”

“No, Siobhan, I think he would run screaming in horror at
the opportunity,” Markl retorted dryly.

Alright, fine, that might have been a stupid question.
Especially after finding Rune sleeping on her floor the other night. “I’ll ask
him,” she promised. What was taking Rune so long to come back, anyway? She
looked up to find that Grae had taken him to the first stepping stone being
built. Both men were kneeling on the ground with stones in their hands. Under
her incredulous stare, Rune placed a stone on the ground under Grae’s
direction, and then another.

“Markl.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away. “Are you seeing
what I’m seeing?”

Markl peered in Grae’s direction, hand lifted to block out
the morning sun. “Is Grae teaching Rune how to build a path?”

“It looks that way to you too?”

He lowered his hand and looked at her questioningly. “Is
that unusual?”

“Unusual? No. It’s downright
strange
. I’ve
never
seen Grae teach anyone pathmaking before. He’s never even offered.” What on
earth was going on?

“Siobhan…” Markl said slowly, hesitantly, “how do people
know if someone has the talent for pathmaking?”

“Grae was tested for it at an early age. We all were as
children.”

“But would someone test street rats or children in dark
guilds?”

She opened her mouth only to slowly close it again. “No,
probably not.”

“So is it possible for Rune to have pathmaking talent?
Undiscovered talent?”

She’d have laughed and said no, of course not, just moments
earlier. But she couldn’t dismiss it now. Grae would not be sitting there, so
patiently teaching Rune, unless he saw something that made him think Rune had
the right talent. “If he does, then he has a lot of studying to do in the
future. But then, from what you said, he’s got the mind to learn with.”

“He does.” Markl rose to his feet and offered her a hand up.
“I think we need to double check this.”

She accepted the hand without hesitation and rose, her knees
protesting a little from all of the kneeling. Siobhan went directly to Grae and
Rune, standing on the other side of the stepping stone they were building. This
close, she realized that Grae was not giving precise instructions. In fact, as
she watched, Rune placed three stones without any direction from the man at his
side, and to her eyes, it looked perfect. Heavens, she might not be an expert,
but even to her it seemed obvious what was going on. In a deliberately casual
way, she asked, “Oh? Rune, you helping him actually make the path?”

Rune shot her the brightest smile she’d ever seen from him.
“Surely am.”

Wind and stars, look at that smile. It’s the same
expression Grae wears when he’s building a path.
She glanced at Grae and
found him watching her with quiet intensity. “You seem to be picking this up
quickly.”

Grae was the one that answered. “He doesn’t quite understand
the weight of the stones yet, and how that affects the pattern, but he’s got
good instincts. He’s built most of this stepping stone himself.”

Siobhan scanned the half-finished pattern in front of her
with disbelieving eyes.
Rune
had done this? Not Grae? It looked so
pristine and precise, she’d never have believed a complete amateur did this if
Grae hadn’t said otherwise.

“All I did was follow that un,” Rune jerked his chin to
indicate the other stepping stone nearby that Grae had built.

Grae didn’t take his eyes from hers, his expression
validating her suspicions. “It takes talent to do that, Rune. Very few can
simply look at a stepping stone and duplicate it like you have done.”

Rune is a Pathmaker. A novice Pathmaker.
By the four
winds, she could not have been more surprised if a star fell out of the sky and
landed on her head. Her desire to keep Rune in the guild tripled in that
moment. One way or another, he was staying in Deepwoods. Even if she had to
twist his arm and bribe him, she’d keep him. Somehow, she kept her voice at a
normal tone. “Rune, why don’t you stay here with Grae and help him build the
path? Since you’re one of the few that can.”

Oh, he liked that idea. His smile came back full force.
“Sure, sure.”

She forced herself to smile back even as her mind whirled.
“Markl and I will go back to gathering, then.”

Grabbing Markl by the arm, she hauled him away.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Markl hissed at her, stumbling
along at her side.

“I can’t, not right now,” she whispered back quickly.
“Markl,
think
. You know how rare it is for Pathmakers to be born.
Sateren doesn’t have
one
, even though they’re a major trade city.
Jarnsmor is even now hiring one from Quigg so that he can move supplies back
and forth after Grae leaves. If he found out that Rune was a Pathmaker, do you
know what he’d do?”

“Keep him,” Markl groaned in realization.

“Rune cannot stay in that city. He especially can’t stay in
Iron Dragain. Pathmaker or not, they’ll never accept him, not with his history.
I have to take him out of here before anyone knows about his talent. It’d be
even better still to tell him after he’s through Island Pass,” she realized
this as an afterthought. “Once he’s in Robarge, Darrens will never let another
guild get their hands on him. He’ll protect Rune.”

Markl stole a glance back. “Does Grae realize all this?”

“He must, otherwise he would have said something to Rune by
now.” She’d have a good talk with him later, though, to make sure he understood
just what was at stake. She tightened her grip on his arm, voice intense. “Do
not breathe a word of this. Understand me?”

He held up a placating hand. “I won’t.”

“We have to bide our time, or we lose Rune entirely.”