Gateway to Fourline (The Fourline Trilogy Book 1)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Text copyright © 2015 Pam Brondos

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Skyscape, New York

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Skyscape are trademarks of
Amazon.com
, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781503948358
ISBN-10: 1503948358

Cover design by Chelsea Wirtz

To Peter

CHAPTER ONE

Fourline

Barba stood by the side of the stable, chewing on the delicate meldon flower pulled from her small supply. She swallowed the bitter petals, then looked west toward the last orange glow of the day. A light breeze played with the curly red tendrils of hair poking out from beneath her hood. She stepped away from the stable and listened. There it was—a faint, high-pitched warble coming from the gully behind the farmhouse. Annin was waiting.

Barba shoved two more petals in her mouth.
A little extra protection from Nala venom never hurt,
she thought as she unclipped her cloak. She fingered the tightly embroidered vines that covered the fabric. She paused, bringing the material closer to her face. Her pointed nose twitched when she smelled the manure. Retrieving her fist-sized orb from a pocket deep within the garment, she rolled the cloak into a tight ball that fit neatly into her saddlebag.

“Don’t wait up,” she whispered to her mare. She rubbed the white diamond of fur between the mare’s eyes and headed into the night, away from the safety of the farmer’s stable.

Sweat soon covered Barba’s forehead as she ran toward the meeting spot. Too many days and nights in the library and not enough time training had made her soft. The ground transformed from grass to rock, causing her to lose her footing. Loose gravel followed her down the side of a gulley. She righted herself and peered into the half-light. Annin’s girlish figure appeared from behind a cottonwood tree, and the two ran silently and swiftly over the rocky ground. After several minutes, Annin slowed and motioned Barba to follow as she deftly scrambled up the side of the gully. Once out, the girl crawled through the tall autumn grass to the edge of an insignificant hill.

“Three Nala and two dozen soldiers, Sister,” Annin whispered as she parted the grass with a slender hand. A semicircle of torches blazed in the valley below them. No fewer than fifteen soldiers stood in the ring of fire. Barba counted five soldiers with drawn bows.

“I recognize that one.” Annin pointed to the nervous figure standing in front of the soldiers. “He was Lord Mudug’s emissary to the Healing House.”

Barba studied the odd grouping. Why was Mudug’s man risking his life to meet with the Nala?

The Nala stood in the darkness away from the flames. One crawled forward, its pointed forearms brushing the ground. A flare licked the air around its bluish skin. The creature straightened and stood surprisingly erect, but its powerful back legs twitched as if ready to spring. It swiveled its bulbous head toward the flames. The torchlight reflected off its faceted silver eyes. Barba refrained from looking at the row of sharp teeth protruding from its mouth.

The emissary stepped forward hesitantly. He gestured to the guards around him and cleared his throat. His voice was low. Barba could barely make out what he was saying to the creatures in front of him. She put her hand on Annin’s arm and pointed to a fallen trunk near a grove of trees about halfway down the hill.

The two crawled slowly through the grass until they reached the collapsed trunk. Barba peered around the jagged edge of wood. Two human archers, with arrows trained on the Nala, crouched a few yards below the trunk. Barba flattened her body against the ground and listened as snippets of the conversation floated up from below.

“Lord Mudug is keeping his word. You must do the same, or we will have to change the terms of our agreement. The last Warrior House will close within the week.” The emissary’s voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

“We promised safe passage on two conditions,” the Nala said, its words rising through the air like steam from a boiling pot. “You have met neither.”

“The Houses are closing; the Sisters are out of your territory. As for the other condition, it’s not as easy.”

The Nala let out a breathy hiss. “What? Human, can you not tell the difference between one of us and one of your own?”

Barba lifted her head ever so slightly. The emissary was now surrounded on three sides by his guards.

“They do not live openly among us.” He spoke quickly. “Our reports say there is a settlement east of your forest. If you would provide assurances, we—”

“Fool.” The Nala leapt toward the emissary, the pale sheen of his face reflected in the smooth blue skin of the Nala. Barba heard the creak of bows tightening. “Do you think we would not have them if they were near our territory?” the Nala hissed.

“Touch me and you will die,” the emissary barked.

The Nala stepped back, shaking its head and rubbing its pointed hands together. “So much that is worse than death.” It paused, then straightened its slender body. “Bring me the halflings, or your precious routes may encounter unexpected visitors. Without your Sisters, you have no protection.”

“Do not underestimate Lord Mudug, spider,” the emissary spat. “Nothing good will come to you if you renege on your promise.”

“Maybe, human.” The Nala’s eyes widened, elongating the facets, and the emissary took a sudden step backward. “But ask Lord Mudug, does he want hundreds of Nala hunting him down every night of his life? Bring me what I want.” It turned and scurried into the darkness, followed by its two companions.

A moment passed. The emissary shakily stepped backward into the center of the torch holders. The soldiers scanned the dark beyond the torchlight. The two archers near Barba and Annin stood and slowly made their way down the hill with their bows still drawn. By the time they rejoined the remaining soldiers, the emissary was far down the valley. Barba heard a nervous string of horses whinnying in the distance.

Annin pressed her hand hard into Barba’s back. Barba could feel the girl’s thin fingers trembling. She turned and looked up in the direction Annin was pointing. Two silver eyes peered through the dry autumn leaves above them. The Nala crouched on the branch, ready to spring. Barba reached for her dagger and scrambled to her feet. The creature tilted its bulbous head and moved a spiky hand toward a lower branch. Barba positioned herself between Annin and the tree, freed her companion orb, and sent the glowing ball hurtling toward the Nala.

“Leave now, Nala. Join the others,” Barba commanded in a low voice.

The Nala waved its arms wildly at the orb as the sphere circled its body and repeatedly slammed against its blue skin.

“Do nothing to violate the Rim Accord.” Barba’s voice grew louder.

The Nala hissed but backed up onto its original perch. “There is no violation known if you are gone, Sister.” It leaned forward, narrowing its silver eyes to focus on the markings on Barba’s uncovered arm. “Not even from the Warrior House, just a Wisdom Sister.” It made a harsh barking sound and opened its mouth. Little droplets of venom dripped from its fangs onto the branches and dried leaves below.

Barba held her dagger in plain sight of the Nala. “You cannot kill me with your venom, spider.”

“Other ways to kill, Sister, but since you are no Warrior Sister, tonight I shall spare you and abide by our accord. Call off your orb.” The creature darted to another branch, and Barba pivoted. The orb continued to strike the Nala. It swatted at the orb, then froze as its eyes met Annin’s. It leaned down, one pointed hand curved around the branch, and hissed again.

“The Sister has a duozi.” The corners of its mouth curved upward.

Annin jumped to her feet with her own dagger drawn just as the Nala leapt to the fallen log. The girl stepped to the side, and Barba brought her dagger down into the base of the Nala’s skull, crushing it. The creature crumpled at Annin’s feet. Still clasping the dagger’s hilt, Barba crouched over the dead Nala. Her breath came in sharp gasps. She’d never killed a Nala, let alone been attacked by one.

She felt Annin’s small hand on her shoulder. “Its head, Sister Barba,” Annin said.

Barba nodded, remembering her training from years before. “Turn away, Annin.” Barba glanced at her, taking in the girl’s one human and one Nala eye. Annin shook her head, her black curls escaping her loose hair tie.

“It’s not a choice, Annin. Shut your eyes,” Barba ordered. Annin reluctantly obeyed. After a few moments, the girl opened them to see Barba wiping her hands on the tall grass near the body of the headless Nala. A discarded arrow stuck straight out from the Nala’s soft abdomen. Annin leaned down and examined the arrow. She looked at Barba questioningly.

“Let them think Mudug’s men did it.” Barba sheathed her dagger. “We must leave now. Mudug’s guards may not have noticed us, but the Nala will track down their missing member and us as well unless we’re careful. We can’t risk getting caught up in a confrontation with more Nala, not now.”

Annin stood above the creature’s body. She pulled up the sleeve of her tunic, exposing a thin forearm. The blue skin matched the skin of the Nala.

Barba touched the girl’s arm. “Annin, let’s go.”

Annin exhaled and dropped her arm. She stepped back, and her foot landed with a thud alongside the dead Nala.

As they retraced their steps to the gully, Annin seized a clump of ramp weed and broke two thick stalks with a quick motion of her hand. She squeezed the end of one stalk, and a green liquid oozed into her hands.

“Sister Ethet says this covers any scent,” she said.

“Does she?” Barba held out her hands, and Annin smeared a bit of green ooze into each palm. Barba spread the sticky goop on her cheeks and neck. A strong fragrance of mint filled her nostrils. “Good memory.”

The pair scrambled down the side of the gully through the tall grass and rock. When they reached the rocky bottom, Barba caught her orb floating next to her. It instantly emitted a faint light, and she released it. The sphere hung in midair for a moment, then zoomed ahead. Barba and Annin followed the orb as it raced over the rocky ground, leading them up and out of the gully. It sped so quickly through the crest of the grass that Barba momentarily lost sight of it until it popped up in the distance. The sphere bobbed up and down impatiently before taking off again.

Barba turned once to find Annin easily keeping pace at her side. The girl was fast—faster than most her age. Her speed reminded Barba of the Nala. She quickened her pace and kept the faint glow of the orb in her sight. The sphere led them far away from the valley to a broad hill where it weaved in and out of the tall grass. The glowing ball rolled to a rest near the base of a pointed leafy bush. Barba fell to her knees and reached between the shaggy branches to retrieve her orb. Sweat and sticky resin covered her arms. Annin knelt beside her, breathing only slightly more heavily than normal.

Below, about a half mile away, lay the farmhouse, the stable, and their horses. Barba sighed and pulled the orb close.

“Shouldn’t you go down, Sister?” Annin asked. “If the farmer finds our horses but no one in the Sisters’ quarters, he will tell someone.”

“No. I’m more concerned with the Nala than the farmer. If they come tonight, it will be from the east, closer to the forest. I’d be able to see them approaching far better from here than from down there.” She turned away, hoping Annin believed the partial lie. The encounter between the emissary and the Nala and the attack on Annin had her mind in tangles. She wasn’t about to leave the girl alone, and every horse but Annin’s would kick up a fuss if she brought the girl near them.

“I am going to need all your senses tomorrow, Annin. Sleep. The orb will let me know if trouble is coming tonight.”

Annin stared at Barba for a moment, then reluctantly lay on her side in the tall grass and pulled the folds of her cloak around her. Barba sat crosslegged in the tall grass, staring at the farmhouse and wishing she could will her cloak out of her saddlebag, up the hill, and over her shoulders.

She pushed the question of why Mudug’s men were meeting with the Nala from her mind. She had more pressing issues to consider, mainly the safe passage of Estos. If everything and everyone were on schedule, she and Annin would meet up with the new regent and his retinue midmorning on the Meldon Plain. Then, it was simply a matter of convincing him to pass through the membrane. After that, he would be safe, unlike his sister. They could sort the rest of this mess out later.

Annin’s strange eyes were open when Barba looked over at the girl.

“Annin?”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Have you heard the word ‘duozi’ before?”

“Yes,” Annin replied.

“Do you know what it means?”

“It means someone like me.”

“Hmm. Go to sleep, Annin.” Barba brought her hands gently over the girl’s halfling eyes, willing them closed. She pulled the edge of the cloak tight around Annin’s shoulders and wondered why the Nala had gone after her.