Westhaven by Rowan Erlking (best sci fi novels of all time TXT) 📕

Tiler rose. Glancing at Key as he crawled out, he stared after the man who would betray them all. Leaning closer, Tiler said, “Rainold overheard him talking with another man in the camp about the reward, only it was in gold.”

“Do us a favor, Key,” Weston said. “Don’t walk off with anybody for the next week to teach him anything. Not even to your smith shop.”

“I’ll stick with you there,” Tiler said, nodding.

Key swallowed. “And Frad didn’t believe you when you told him?”

Rainold sighed. “No. Not a word.”

“And he won’t believe all of us together either,” Key murmured, still watching the path. “How about that wizard? Sadena. Have you tried her?”

Glancing at Tiler, Rainold thought on it. He nodded. “I’ll try her.”

“And I’ll try that witch, Edman. He likes you,” Weston said.

Key almost laughed. Instead he walked back up the path towards their camp. “Either way, we should prepare to evacuate camp.”

All the boys nodded, agreeing.

*

“Where is the meeting spot?” Gailert asked, waiting in his automobile near the skirts of Wingsley. It was a mildly forested area that was between the town and the Duglis Mountains. No farmland. All rocky. The brush had an off-color look to it as if the sun had bleached most of it out, even so early in the spring. Lizards ran over the rocks, matching the boulders with their specks as they bathed in the sun. Occasionally he saw a hare pop up, stick out its head then hop back into the brush. Small brown birds rested on the trees singing a repetitious tune that was starting to annoy him.

The captain leaned back in his car’s seat, gesturing to the far shrub edge. “Over there. But I would not recommend getting out of the automobile. This man is likely to double-cross us. His antics the week before were enough to make me want to kill him.”

“You shot at him, didn’t you?” Gailert said with a dry sigh. “And what happened?”

Making a face, the captain looked out the window. “Beside the point. He had some kind of charm around him, a magic circle like the Kitai used, so I couldn’t hit him.”

Gailert snorted, laying one arm across the back of the car seat. “Of course. Greedy humans can also be unscrupulously sly. Naturally, he used magic.”

Something rolled down the hill from the trees, a large long something wrapped up as if it were a dead person. Then another thing just as big tumbled down. Waving, the captain gestured to one of his officers hiding in the brush to go up and see if it was the package. Very carefully the captain climbed out of the vehicle, scanning the trees and shrubs above on the hill. The bushes rustled some, but that seemed more due to the breeze than to humans hiding in them.

“Captain! Come over here!” a corporal called out.

Turning, the captain said to Gailert, “Stay here. Some insurgents could still be waiting in the bushes. This could be a trap.”

He then went out, ordering his soldiers to search the hillside brush while he went to investigate the package. From his view, Gailert watched the captain walk over to the two wrapped things then speak with the men that had intercepted it. The captain then crouched down and plucked something off of one of the packages. He stared at it then clenched it hard in a fit of anger. Stomping back to the automobile, he went to the back, opening the door.

“General, you’ll want to read this.” The captain handed Gailert the crumpled piece of parchment.

Taking it, Gailert peered at the handwriting. It was written a smooth script, an educated hand comparable to any high level Sky Child. The words were succinct.

Deal with a traitor and die. Next time this will be you.

The Free People

Lowering the paper, Gailert looked up at the captain. “Is your man one of the packages?”

The captain nodded. “As well as another man. The other man is wearing a bandana like that Key, but I don’t think it is him. It does look like him, though.”

“They’re both dead?” Gailert asked.

Nodding, the captain sighed. “Poisoned. They smell of witchcraft.”

“I want to see them.”

The general got out of the automobile, lifting his head to listen for arrows. However, the hills were filled with the ruckus from the soldiers stirring up birds, rabbits and chipmunks. He noticed a small flock of wild goats climbing the slope to get away from them also. If there were humans there once, they had gone. Either that or they sunk into the earth through magic.

Walking over to where the two packages were being picked up as dirt stirred under their feet, Gailert still felt as if he were being watched. His eyes grazed the hills even as he reached the two bodies. Nothing. Only their soldiers and the birds scattering. Taking his eyes off the hills briefly, he looked down to see what they had been delivered. Both human bodies stared with their eyes open, their faces smelling strangely of nutmeg. The one wearing the bandana was twitching. Gailert peered at his face, which was much like that of Kleston from Herra though this person was built more like a man than a boy.”

“He’s alive,” Gailter murmured

“Yes, sir. But you don’t want to touch him,” one of the corporals there said. He then blushed realizing that the general did not have the gift. “That is, he’s insane.”

“No coherent thoughts,” another of the corporals said.

“I thought you said he was dead.” Gailert turned to the captain.

“As good as dead,” the captain said. He then pointed to the one that was not twitching. “He is entirely dead though. His tongue was even cut out.”

Cringing, Gailert peered at the dead man. The human was past middle age, but not yet considered ancient. His face had the signs of much squinting and frowning. Obviously this man also had done a lot of intellectual work. His hands were tied behind his back, his body wrapped. And when they undid the wraps they saw that his clothes indicated something unusual about him. Besides his clothing being made from silk and sturdy linen, the cut of it was incredibly particular. That man would have stood out in a crowd, perhaps even in a position of respect. Gailert tugged at the fancy writing embroidered in the front of this one’s coat then lifted his eyes to the captain. “This man was a magician.”

“Or he’s wearing a magician’s coat,” the captain said, nodding.

But Gailert shook his head. “No. They would not put a magician’s coat on a man and expect us to believe that they killed their own skilled magic user. The magician betrayed them. This is their way of saying they don’t care who the traitor is, only that they would kill anyone who betrays them.”

Chilled, the captain stood up. “I think, general, we had better get you back to the automobile.”

Though he agreed, Gailert glanced at the twitching insane man whose body had begun to stiffen. Whether this was Key or not, the people who had tossed these bodies were sending the message that no one would be allowed to betray them. The humans were becoming organized.

*

“So, that’s General Gole.” Sadena murmured.

Key nodded, peering through the branches of their thicket, watching the Sky Child soldiers pass by without even an idea humans were watching. Edman was crouched next to him, his teeth clenched as he peered down at the aging Sky Child general. He was obviously itching to get out there to poison him. Luis and Callen were in another thicket Sadena had made with Tiler and Rainold. Weston hid with Frad who was glaring severely at the bottom of the hill.

“And there is no opportunity to kill him right now, is there?” Sadena seemed to ask Key.

Key’s eyes fixed on the aged general. He slowly shook his head. “Not without us all getting killed at the same time.”

“Did you see those other brown-eyeds?” Tiler hissed to Rainold.

Rainold nodded. “Sure did.”

“I know guys at our camp that look like that,” Tiler murmured. “A little lighter skinned, but nearly the same.”

“Southerners,” Callen said.

Luis nodded. “From Ladis City.”

Tiler glanced at Sadena. “Yeah. So I was thinking, what if there were a way to make them darker?”

They quickly hushed up. The soldiers beat through the bushes, passing their thickets as they went back down the mountainside, calling to the captain that all was clear. When the blue-eyes were back down, Tiler exhaled, peering down to see if the soldiers were gone.

“Darker?” Key asked, slipping out from the thin trees. He crouched low under the bushes to keep out of sight. “Are you suggesting we make ourselves look like them to spy on them?”

Glancing down the hill, Tiler pointed. “She made that traitor look like Kleston. Why can’t we make us look like brown-eyed Sky Children? We can hire out to factories like they do. Low-level workers, you know. And then we can learn all the stuff that they know. Get their technology like you said.”

“That actually might work,” Callen murmured, parting the leaves as he crawled through to the path.

Sadena made the trees move on their own, gently walking out with all her grace intact. She kept an eye on the Sky Children below and hissed. “One problem. I can only move things. I can’t change the nature of a thing.”

“Not even the color of someone’s skin?” Tiler asked.

She frowned. “If a person had all that color on his body somewhere, I could move it around. But if a man were pale, there is little to work with.”

“So,” Key said, nodding to Callen, “if we got someone from Ladis to volunteer to be a spy, do you think you can take the dark of their skin from, oh, say, their belly or backside, and move it so it looks darker on their arms and face?”

Nodding slowly as she thought about it, Sadena gazed down the hill at the brown-eyed Sky Children. “Maybe. But that won’t be enough. Didn’t you say Sky Children all can read? And that they know things that their kind only knows? Can you train our people quick enough to act like a Sky Child?”

Key drew in a breath, thought hard and nodded. “I think I can. With that Mistrim porter, I bet we could train a load of spies.”

“What about paperwork?” Edman asked Key, nodding at the idea of using that porter. “You said they are all about documents and forms. Where are we going to get their legal papers?”

“We steal them,” Frad said, nodding to Key. “I can lead a group to do that.”

“Do you know which ones to take?” Edman asked him.

“I’ll go with them,” Key said, dusting his pants off.

They all stared at him.

“Oh no,” Tiler said and walked over to him to personally drag Key back to their hideout. “You are staying in the camp. We’re not risking you getting caught.”

With a look that bordered on a smirk, Key said, “I’ve spent long enough time in camp. Besides, I have to come. You won’t know what the right documents look like. It would take too long if I just told you. And you might get caught.”

“Fine. I’m coming too,” Weston said. He then rubbed his knuckles hard on Key’s wrapped scalp. “But you’re shaving your head before we go.”

Key ducked down. “Ow! Fine. No big deal.”

With care, they crept off, Sadena shifting the plants behind them so that the path could never be taken again.