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

Key just closed his eyes. Trying to control his breathing, he clenched and unclenched his fists.  

“You beat me fair and square, Key,” Tiler said in a lower voice. “And I stick by you, not because I think you are weak. And I don’t think Lanona thinks you are weak either.”

Shaking his head and trying to get by, Key took a step to the right. “I don’t—”

“Key,” Tiler hopped in his way again. “Sadena gave you that job because she trusts you will succeed. You always follow through and think of contingencies. With our army discovered by the blue-eyes, she would want her most trusted man on the job. And as for Lanona—”

“Don’t talk about that,” Key bit back.

Tiler shook his head. “No. I will. Lanona likes you. It was clear in Calcumum. Actually, I noticed when we were in Wimanus. And believe me, I would have preferred if she liked me instead. But I couldn’t get her attention. And don’t think I didn’t try. But even you must have noticed that she was jealous of that girl in Stiltson. She cut in that dance before that woman could charm you. And from where I was watching, at that festival, you looked like you were in a daze, ready to fall in any girl’s arms. And if you hadn’t jumped back into that tunnel, she probably would have come to and kissed you back. Though with the rest of us watching, I’m sure she felt awkward.”

Key’s face flushed, his eyes widening on Tiler.

“I’m just saying,” Tiler stepped aside and put his arm around Key’s shoulder. “Give that girl some time. You haven’t seen her since Stiltson. And I’m sure she is also kicking herself for not doing something before you left.”

“You’re just messing with—”

“I am not messing with you.” Tiler chuckled. “But if you want to put it off, fine. We have to pack for Wingsley anyway. And you have to figure out how to sneak people into the town’s tunnels without a wizard to help you out.”

“I can be of assistance.” Edman marched over, raising his hand.

Both men turned to look at him. Key blushed even redder. He finally realized that most of the camp was listening in on what should have been a private conversation.

Smiling, Edman nodded to Key. “I just received a letter from Sadena ordering me to help you with the evacuation. I guess she figures you would take your usual crew—”

Key glanced to Tiler then said, “Loid is off in Dalis’s camp with my cousin. She’ll be giving birth shortly, so he won’t be going anywhere for a while. Don’t plan on any more people than Tiler and I. But if you’re coming, I hope you have some rations ready. We don’t have much here, and I just got notice today.”

Edman merely smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m ready.”

And he was.

That afternoon Edman waited as Tiler and Key packed. They took in some supper and departed for Dalis Camp that evening. They arrived the following morning at the camp, rested there, then took on a few more men in the afternoon and departed that night. They arrived in Yarrding in the morning and hired a carriage to take them to Wingsley. The three of them dressed up as merchants from Mistrim City on the trade route. By carriage, they arrived in Wingsley after two more days well after nightfall despite the conditions of the winter roads.

“It’s been a while,” Edman murmured, looking up at the inn where they had to check in to avoid suspicion.

Key then climbed out of the carriage. His eyes went more to the road where he could see soldiers searching the locals wearing heavy coats. They were looking for weapons. He leaned toward Tiler who had yet to take off his pistol. “Hurry it up. Soldiers coming.”

Nodding, Tiler took it off and stuffed his weapon into his bag. Tucking it away and locking the case, he then climbed out. This time he was dressed as their porter.

“You there!” A blue-eye lieutenant marched straight towards them, lifting his hand to signal them to stop. “Hold on. I must have a word with you.”

His companion, a private, marched after him, both of them brisk on their feet.

“What business do you have in Wingsley? Didn’t you hear the order that no trade is allowed in this area?” The lieutenant looked over Edman and Key both, ignoring Tiler.

Edman cleared his throat, bowing to the soldier. “I’m sorry. We haven’t heard. What is this order you speak of?”

Key waved to Tiler, speaking low. “Take in our bags. This may take a while. And prepare the dining room. We want to have supper right away. Oh, but leave my personal bag near the door. I will most likely be using it.”

Tiler knew what that mean. They were to go into the tunnels that night. No waiting. It was likely they would have to kill those soldiers. Tiler took up their trunk and their smaller suitcases. He passed by the soldiers before they could demand a search. These soldiers looked more likely to search Key and Edman’s bodies anyway. Tiler set the smaller bag he had stashed their pistols in right next to the stool where the coats hung.

“This order is from the Sky Lord himself,” the lieutenant said with a searing look of hate. Is shining blue eyes said he’d rather just drain Edman dry and leave him for dead. “Don’t you know insurgents are in the mountains?”

“Here?” Edman did his best to look amazed. He glanced to Key who didn’t look at all likely that anything would amaze him. But that suited him more anyway. “Should we lock our door once we get in?”

“Rather,” Key replied, nodding.

The lieutenant blinked at him as if noticing Key for the first time. He then took a step closer. “Do I know you?”

Delivering a dry stare, Key answered in the same tone, “That’s not likely. I don’t generally do business with blue-eyes.”

The Sky Child’s jaw stiffened, his eyes going cold. “I don’t enjoy dealing with humans either. However, for the sake of the economy, I’ll ignore that remark.”

He then looked to Edman again who seemed more genial.

“Clear out tomorrow,” the lieutenant said to the professed merchant. “Head east or go back to Mistrim. Either way, if you are in the way of the army when it attacks the hills, either one of you may end up dead with the rest of the insurgents. No one will care.”

With a dramatic turn, the lieutenant’s coat flapped as he walked away. He gestured for the private to follow. They marched up the street, obviously confronting any and ever merchant, innkeeper and shop owner in Wingsley to lock up.

Key marched into the inn first, picking up his bag. He was glad he did not have to use the contents just yet. Edman followed, sneaking one more glance at the lieutenant before going in after him.

“Was that really true? You didn’t know him?” Edman asked as they walked directly to the hall for the private dining rooms.

Key let a small groan escape. “No. I knew him. He was the soldier that stopped Loid, Telerd, and I on the way to Kalsworth. He’ll figure it out too, so we’d better hurry.”

But instead of going into one of the rented rooms, they turned to the door that would enter into the servant’s yard. Tiler was waiting, paying the innkeeper a sum with a smile as the man waited with a look at Edman then Key. He then waved for them to go, pointing at the coal drop. Key blinked at it. A Sky Child would not have thought much of the coal drop since they were common in all their buildings. But this inn did not need one since they did not use coal.

Tiler lifted the cover and gestured for Edman to go in first. “The trunk is already in there. Did you bring the pistols?”

Key lifted the bag up, nodding as Edman climbed into the hole.

“You go next,” Tiler said.

Making a face at him, Key waited for Edman to hurry down the incline. “You know, despite what you say about me not being a liability, you keep putting me between you and Edman.”

Grinning, Tiler just nudged him to go down. “You’re not a liability. You are an asset. One that I intend to protect with my life.” 

That didn’t make Key feel any better, but he decided not to argue.

They traveled down through the tunnels for hours carrying the trunk until they found one of the many rooms inside the underground of Wingsley. Lanona had taken better care with these tunnels than any of the others she had formed, perhaps because it was built before she and the patriarch of Sundri had met him and they had wanted to curry favor with Sadena as well as Bekir Smith. The air was less stuffy than the tunnels of Calcumum and Ladis, and certainly less damp than those of Stiltson. In fact, they had a livable quality to them. The evacuees would be fine there.

They camped in the first room to gather their bearings and to discuss their plans. Then, with a heave, the threesome lifted up their trunk and hurried on through the tunnels towards the hidden camp.

The escape tunnel into the foothills outside Wingsley opened into a cluster of trees surrounded by elderberry bushes and a few thorny plants, all covered in snow. It was clear Sadena had prepared for this contingency. The shrubs were thick around that area. In the dark, it would be impossible to see anyone sneak in or out of the hills. It was also close to the camp.

Leaving the trunk at the entrance, the trio opened it and retrieved their swords. They also strapped on their pistols. Edman prepared to use his sleeping balm, just in case. Chances were, those in the camp were already on watch and the soldiers were already in the foothills. Entering the mountain camp unnoticed would be difficult if that were so. So they crept low, taking care with each step as they journeyed into the hollow where they hoped they would not be ambushed.

They heard a northern birdcall.

Key sighed and gave out a lake birdcall.

Both non-native bird sounds were usually signals enough of who they were, or purported to be. But they knew it would not be enough this time.

“Who calls, strangers?”

Looking around at the trees in the dark, though the moonlight lit the snow as if it were daylight, the threesome held their breaths. They were watched well and they could not detect the source. That was a good sign. Unfortunately Key and Tiler both had names the enemy knew of, so they looked to Edman to answer.

He did, lifting his chin though not speaking very loud. “Edman and two friends.”

The watchman in the trees chuckled. “Edman who?”

With some irritation, Edman reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a powder he had, weighed it in his hands then tossed it up into the tree, muttering words to a spell. It flashed, giving off a sweet cinnamon odor. The watchman nearly fell out of the tree—though really he just scrambled down fast, looking dazed as he dropped at Edman’s feet.

“Edman the herbalist,” the witch said. “Good friend with Sadena who allowed you to use her camp.”

The other watchmen hurried out from their hiding places. Their shining Sundri-style swords were high.

“Goodness! It’s the Bekir swordsmith and the witch.” Several murmured.

Tiler ignored the fact that they didn’t recognize him as anyone. After Edman lifted the hypnotic spell he had on the one watchman, the threesome went together into the camp. All of the people there were already armed, waiting for the fight.

Once they gathered the Sundri patriarch, his wife and the other Sundri leaders together, Key addressed the crowd of refugees. He stood on the felled log near the old cook fire so they could all see him. “I received a letter from Sadena telling me to evacuate all of