Errant Volume Two Read online

  The People of the Wind were small and lightweight—less height, less muscle, less fat. Even their bones weighed less. It gave them a reputation for being fragile. They were reclusive, too, living high up in the mountains or the trees, making their homes where no walkers could reach them.

  “You escaped,” Charm reminded him when Sky’s chest trembled and his breathing grew ragged.

  “I’m going to be in so much trouble,” Sky said. “I wasn’t supposed to leave the mountain.”

  “Your family will be too happy to have you home to scold you,” Charm promised. “We’ll bring you to our friend in order to heal you and then we’ll help you get home.”

  “You can’t.” Sky poked at Charm’s arm. He poked her shoulder next and then her face. “You can’t fly.”

  “If your people are like the other Wind I’ve known, they’ll be looking for you. We just have to get close enough for them to see us,” Aspen said, her first contribution to the conversation. “Also, I can climb.”

  Sky startled at the sound of her voice, and splashed water on Charm’s shift. He backed up to the edge of the tub.

  “It’s okay,” Charm promised. She handed him the washcloth. “Do you want to finish?”

  Sky scrubbed his arms with the cloth and looked back at Aspen. “What do you mean, climb?”

  “You live up high in trees, don’t you?” Aspen asked.

  With great reluctance, Sky nodded.

  “I’m very good at climbing trees. I have to be, since I don’t have any wings.”

  “I have no wings and have still never learned to climb trees,” Charm said. “Do you know where you live, Sky?”

  “It’s called,” Sky paused and whistled a long sound, “and it’s in the mountains.”

  Charm nodded and even smiled so she didn’t betray her concern. The Seljac Mountains, which the People of the Earth sometimes called the Stony Mountains, lay between the Northern and Southern Ain Rivers. It wasn’t a few scattered peaks. It was jagged ranges as far as the eye could see and then more. Without more detail, they’d never find Sky’s enclave.

  “Our first stop is Tescui,” Aspen said.

  “Is she nice?” Sky asked.

  Aspen pressed her lips together and then nodded too vigorously, which was practically waving a sign that said “I’m lying.” Charm narrowed her eyes.

  “My aunt says walker witches use our feathers in their spells.” Sky rinsed the cloth and then scrubbed his neck.

  “Tescui is a Rain witch,” Aspen said. “She only does magic with plants. She’ll help you, not hurt you.”

  Charm relaxed, but made a note to question Aspen about her friend once Sky was asleep.

  Sky touched the long red feathers on his good wing. People of the Earth did use Wind feathers in spells, but there were strict laws about buying and selling them. It was one thing to catch an ohla and pluck it. To do the same to a person was something too horrible to contemplate.

  “My aunt said walkers are all bad, but you two have been nice.” Sky smiled and then finished washing.

  They put him to sleep in the room’s only bed. With wings, he took up almost all of it. Charm mourned her lost night in bed with Aspen as she sat down in the room’s wooden rocking chair. “I had such grand plans.”

  Aspen leaned against the doorjamb, so solid that the building could have rested on her. “You don’t know that I was going to say yes.”

  “Oh, obviously you weren’t going to say yes tonight. You were going to say something sad and brooding about your dark past and how you never allow yourself any fun. Why do you think I took a leave for the whole run of The Seamaiden of Kisegyu? My plan is delicate and complex and has many stages. This represents only a small setback.”

  “Is one of the stages embarrassing me with a song?” Aspen said. “You should rethink that one.”

  “That song paid for this room and more, I’ll have you know. Which is good because I think we have to buy Sky different clothes tomorrow so he doesn’t freeze to death on our way to your mean friend’s house.”

  “She’s not mean, exactly. Just old and cranky and sharp-tongued.”

  “Mean, in other words.”

  “Tescui’s fixed broken bones for me before. She can help.”

  “If there’s one thing I can guess about you, it’s that you’ve broken a lot of bones.”

  “Mostly not my own,” Aspen said.

  Charm should probably not find that smile alluring. She should especially not find it alluring when she was about to spend an uncomfortable night half-awake in this rocking chair without so much as a kiss for her troubles. But where Aspen was concerned, it was too late for Charm.

  “It was kind of you to offer him so much help,” Aspen said, inclining her head toward Sky’s sleeping form.

  The praise made Charm’s heart beat faster, but it was embedded with a barb. Aspen was curious. She didn’t know about the little girl who had come down the mountain barefoot nineteen years ago. Didn’t know about the cuts on her feet or the tear tracks through dirt on her face or the rubble of her village. Nobody had ever protected that girl except for Charm, and she wasn’t going to stop now.

  “I knew you were going to offer to help him,” Charm said, “and it would have hurt my feelings to watch you try to wriggle out of our precious time together by doing good deeds, and then of course you were going to feel guilty about hurting my feelings, and that was all going to be unspeakably tiresome. So I did it first to save you the trouble.”

  “I’m not sure I follow that logic.”

  “Well, that’s no surprise. You wouldn’t know a delicate plan if it wore its favorite dress and serenaded you in a crowded tavern,” Charm said.

  “Again, I’m not sure the serenading is the best approach.” Aspen’s face softened into a smile and she murmured, “But the dress is very pretty.”

  “Mm,” Charm said. She wasn’t tired, but gradually, over a suitably long period of time, she let her eyelids droop and her head loll to the side. A convincing impression of sleep stole over her. After that, there were no more questions and no more answers.

  2

  Eager for a change of setting and the chance to do something, Aspen fetched a breakfast of sausages, hot gruel, and sweet pastries from the tavern below their room. Her heavy tray even included a few small bowls of honey, seeds, and dried berries. Charm would complain otherwise.

  The eight-year-old child might complain, too, but Aspen was less concerned about that. He ought to be happy she’d bought sausages, based only on his enthusiasm for last night’s beef stew. The smell of hot, greasy meat turned her stomach. Her people didn’t eat mammals. She’d broken the custom during her short, unpleasant marriage. She should have known that a man who demanded she abandon her people’s ways wasn’t a man who loved her.

  That was the past. Aspen could bear the scent of sausages for now. This rich breakfast was for Charm and Sky. Left to her own devices, Aspen would have foraged for free instead of spending Charm’s money.

  Charm lived a life of indulgence, supported by her legal—and not so legal—talents. Even when Aspen had the funds for it, she didn’t live an extravagant life. What caused an orphan to grow into a woman like Charm? In Aspen’s experience, the lack of material comforts had taught her to live without. Charm went in the other direction. When she could, she glutted herself on the fine things in life.

  What did it say that she saw Aspen as one of those fine things?

  Charm had ridden to Orcester for more than a friendly chat. Aspen’s reservations faded with each moment they spent together. She’d seen Charm in her wagon, sprawled on a soft bed. She’d laughed at the abundance of clothes, rich fabrics and colorful designs. She’d sat beside Charm as she ate three pastries and then licked her fingers to get every last grain of sugar.

  Aspen wouldn’t mind being treated as an indulgence. She imagined Charm’s mouth on her and came to a halt on the staircase with her face burning red and her stomach fluttering. She couldn’t enter the
ir room with these thoughts in her head. Charm would know, and she’d smile that secret smile of hers, and Aspen would grow even more flustered.

  Once she was composed, Aspen finished the journey to the room. She knocked first so she didn’t startle them and then entered at Charm’s quiet, “Come in.”

  Sky was dressed in yesterday’s dirty clothes. They’d need to buy him some new ones. It was likely Sky hadn’t been able to travel far after being caught in the trap, so they had to be careful of any hunters searching for him. Keeping his wings hidden until they’d left town would be safest.

  Aspen hoped Charm would take Sky to the tailor, since she had no idea what to do with youths other than teach them self-defense. Audacity Granger’s children had liked that well enough, but they were older. Sky needed someone to prompt him to bathe and dress. More than that, he needed comfort. Aspen could handle returning him home. Caring for him on the way, well, that she’d leave to Charm.

  Sky tracked Aspen’s progress through the room, practically vibrating on his stool. When Aspen set the plate of sausages in front of him, his breath exhaled in a whoosh. He didn’t wait for silverware, just grabbed one of the sausages and bit into it. He eyed the pastries with interest as Aspen placed the tray on the table. And, as she’d predicted, he didn’t even notice the gruel.

  Should she tell him no pastries until he ate it? She’d been raised with strict rules and had practiced even more rigorous discipline during her time in the Scale. Was she now responsible for imposing order on this child?

  Charm, of course, selected a pastry with cherry filling bubbling out the top. Once she’d lifted it from the plate, Sky snatched one as well. There went Aspen’s plan to set the rules.

  Aspen pulled a bowl of gruel to her spot. She added a touch of honey and a handful of dried berries and some seeds. Sky, who had a sausage in hand and a mouth crammed full of pastry, noticed the seeds. Aspen nudged a bowl of gruel toward him. He turned big, pleading eyes on Charm.

  Not at all troubled, she handed him the small dish of sunflower seeds and took the rest of the berries for herself. “I’m not putting them in gruel.”

  Aspen gave up on any kind of order. As Charm and Sky indulged themselves, she packed her things. She didn’t trust herself to pack Charm’s. No doubt she’d fold something the wrong way and ruin it.

  “I’m going to tend to the horses,” Aspen said. “You’ll join me when you’re finished?”

  Charm laughed and waved her on. “We’ll be down soon.”

  Aspen suspected her definition of soon didn’t match Charm’s, but she only nodded and brought her things out to the attached stable. Mouse, Aspen’s trusted steed and closest companion, tossed her head in greeting. Ruby, the grumpy troublemaker Charm rode, also tossed her head, but in a haughty way that said she was better than Aspen’s company.

  “That’s fine,” Aspen said as she rested her pack against Mouse’s stall. “I’ll brush out Mouse’s mane and leave your care to Charm.”

  Ruby gave Aspen what the horse undoubtedly believed was an intimidating look. Aspen wasn’t new at this. Ruby wouldn’t frighten her or bully her. She brushed out Mouse’s mane while Mouse preened, smug.

  Honestly, Aspen shouldn’t encourage this kind of behavior between the two horses. While Ruby wouldn’t be able to mess with Aspen, she’d have ample opportunity to mess with Charm. Aspen laughed quietly as she remembered the first time Charm had ridden Ruby. The horse had dumped her on her ass and then pranced away.

  Charm had been quite the sight, sprawled in the middle of the road, skirts everywhere as she tried to regain her bearings. It was funny because she hadn’t been seriously hurt. And clearly some kind of bonding had transpired for Charm to bring Ruby on this trip.

  Or maybe, after their last adventure, Charm wanted the comfort of a tough horse at her side. Aspen’s smile faded. The first time she’d met Charm, Aspen had blundered into a situation she hadn’t understood, trying to rescue Charm. And then Charm had needed to rescue Aspen, and that particular adventure had concluded with the inspiration for Charm’s song; Aspen had killed someone.

  Their second adventure hadn’t been much better. What had started as an effort to help a woman keep her farm and her life out of the hands of an abusive man had ended with Charm inadvertently killing someone. Maybe Charm hoped Ruby would protect her. Aspen had done a miserable job so far.

  Well, it couldn’t be all bad, or Charm wouldn’t have asked to meet up. Aspen knew Charm wanted something specific, something that involved hot baths and a shared bed, but she wouldn’t still want it if she hated Aspen.

  Right?

  For Aspen, bedding someone was a serious decision. She had to know them, trust them, maybe even love them. It was different for Charm, but Aspen didn’t think it was so different that Charm would be here if she didn’t like Aspen. Yes, Aspen was well-muscled from a physical life, but if what Charm wanted was someone strong, there were plenty of better, safer options than Aspen.

  Charm liked Aspen in particular. It was the only explanation. Aspen’s smile returned as she patted Mouse’s side and then moved to Ruby’s stall.

  She was finished with both horses when Charm and Sky arrived. Sky was in the oversized robe he’d worn last night, his wings making uneven lumps under the fabric. His eyes were pinched in pain or distaste. He’d be a curiosity in Orcester. The People of the Wind didn’t spend much time among the People of the Earth. There was no outright hostility, but Aspen preferred to avoid notice all the same. Sky could show his wings when they were on the road.

  The three of them walked the horses to the center of town. Charm shepherded Sky into a tailor’s, where she’d presumably come up with some explanation for his presence. Aspen went to investigate provisions.

  Her saddlebags were packed for her own trip. Additional people, especially these particular two, meant a change. She ducked into a bakery and then a cheese shop. Orcester’s local cheese was hard, aged until it crumbled when sliced, with a sharp flavor. Aspen didn’t know if People of the Wind ate cheese. Her own people didn’t make it, but she’d learned to love it.

  Sky clearly loved red meat, so she bought some dried beef from the butcher. Since it was getting more difficult to find fruit in the woods, she stopped at a fruit seller’s for the last of this year’s apples, as well as raisins and dried apricots. There might still be greens to forage. After a glance to make sure Charm and Sky were still occupied—they’d moved from the tailor’s to a cobbler’s—Aspen stopped at the sweet shop for a few hard candies.

  Once everything was purchased, she packed some in her saddlebags and some in Charm’s in case they were separated. She split one of the apples she’d bought and fed half to Mouse and half to Ruby. Both horses had finished their treat by the time Charm ushered Sky out of the cobbler’s. She’d bought him new boots. To get out of there so quickly, she’d probably sweet-talked the cobbler into giving Sky someone else’s order, but Aspen preferred ignorance on that count.

  Unaccustomed to shoes, Sky walked like she’d strapped bricks to his feet and scowled at Charm every time his soles slapped the ground. However Charm had won that battle, it clearly hadn’t involved sweet talk.

  The filth-encrusted, sack-like garment that Sky had been wearing was nowhere in sight. Probably the tailor had taken it to be burned. Instead he was wearing a smart pair of brown wool trousers, a loose-fitting shirt, and a clean dark brown cloak covering his wings. Charm must have convinced the tailor to make wing-slits in the shirt, or else she’d done it herself. She had a bundle of extra fabric under her arm and she tucked it into one of Ruby’s saddlebags.

  “Ride or walk?” Aspen asked Sky.

  He scrunched his face in disgust. “I hate having a broken wing.”

  “You’ve mentioned that once or twice,” Charm said. “I’m doing my best, kid.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  “You’re right about that,” Charm agreed. “Can you fit those things over a horse? Do you know how to ride?”

&n
bsp; “I can, but I don’t want to,” he said. “Since I’m a walker now, I guess I’ll walk.”

  Aspen was skeptical about Sky’s claim that he could, and Charm asking anybody else if they could ride was pure comedy, but the kid tromped a short distance ahead of them like he’d never suffered a greater injustice, so she left it alone.

  “Well, I want to ride,” Charm said.

  Aspen obligingly knelt down and cupped her hands to make a step. Charm flicked her cloak aside and slid her pretty little boot into Aspen’s hands like she was daring her to think about undoing the row of tiny buttons up her ankle.

  It was much safer to think about Charm’s ankle than anything higher up. Aspen had never seen Charm in trousers and she couldn’t afford to start looking while kneeling beneath her.

  Charm mounted—oh, it was a bad idea to think about mounting, and trousers, and straddling, and thighs. Aspen squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to purify her thoughts. She failed, but at least by the time she opened her eyes, Charm’s cloak was covering most of her.

  “This will be a slow trip,” Charm said as they left the town behind.

  “Tell me about it,” Aspen muttered.

  “Hmm?”

  “I said we won’t dawdle.”

  She meant it. Sky’s comfort and health depended on reaching Tescui quickly. Once Orcester was a few specks on the horizon, she asked Sky, “Is the cloak bothering you? Will you be cold without it?”

  His wings moved under the fabric. As if he’d been holding the information in for a long time, he burst out, “Charm said you would cut it with a knife!”

  Charm laughed quietly.

  Aspen wasn’t sure what was funny. “I have a pair of scissors, actually. But if I do that, we won’t be able to cover your wings at the next settlement. Is that all right with you?”

  “She bought me two cloaks because she knew you were gonna say that!”