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Just as she was about to explore the cell again, the door opened behind Qandra, and she fell back through the opening with a yelp.
"Qandra?!"
"Dash'tan?"
"Oh. You're back." Dash'tan sounded strangely unemotional.
"I'm back? You're the one that left me, you figly . . . " She took a deep breath. No sense making an enemy out of my only friend here. "Sorry. Did he question you as well?'
"Yeah. He didn't get what he wanted though," Dash'tan claimed, proudly and yet wryly.
"What exactly was he after?," she questioned
"Just some information about this organization I belong to."
"The Free Way?," she guessed with an invisible smirk. He paused, as if gauging how much he should tell her, and then simply reponded,
"Yes." Qandra waited for further clarification, but Dash'tan was reticent. I don't want to pry, but I would really like to know what's going on here . . .
"What exactly--" she began, but stopped upon hearing a distant clang. All was quiet while the two ang. All was quiet while the two listened. She jumped slightly when she heard someone holler,
"Anybody down here?" It was not the questioner's voice they had heard earlier, but Qandra was still suspicious. Dash'tan, however, quickly called out,
"Yes! Who's there?" They heard heavily booted footsteps thumping down the corridor, and then a dim ray of light shone through the door, revealing a stranger's lanky sillouhette.
"The Way is now Free," their rescuer stated, beckoning for them to come out. Even in the filtered light from the trapdoor, Qandra had to shade her eyes as they made their way up into the one room cottage. Once her eyes adjusted, Qandra could tell that their rescuer was tall, and either muscular or big boned, she wasn't sure which. The grinning woman had a fair, slightly freckled complexion, with shoulder-length light brown hair, the top of which was pulled back into a thin braid. Her eyes were grey, or maybe blue, but they perpetually shone with laughter even when her mouth did not smile. Her clothing was baggy and covered all but her face and hands, and was patterned in a manner Qandra had never seen before, with black, green, and brown splotches and squiggles all over. She had a bow slung across her back, and a quiver of arrows as well, and she leaned on a long-handled axe as she studied the two.
"I've seen you before," she said finally, pointing at Dash'tan, "And I don't think it was at the Association foation for Benevolent Argonauts meeting. You belong to the Free Way." Qandra glanced at Dash'tan satisfactorily. Now the truth comes out . . . But the woman continued, a half-smile flitting on her lips,
"Is that your mircdao over there, slickshao? Don't tell me you were trying to rescue her from Mashian when you got caught." Dash'tan's face held a generic smile as he replied,
"No, we just met the other day. She was going to spear me with her hunting knife and roast me for dinner, but instead I agreed to help her find her silver staff. Rilca mentalist, you know the story. Her name's Qandra."
"I'm Kerrick," she stated, shaking hands, "Nice to meet you. And what was your name again?," she asked, nodding towards Dash'tan.
"Dash'tan, although I can't believe one such as yourself wouldn't know that already." Kerrick changed the subject.
"So how is it you were careless enough to get caught by this wermun?" She nudged a shrivelled body on the floor with her foot, and Qandra gasped as she recognized Mashian's scarf, and remembered its meaning. He's a deisho!
"Well, he's only a solshr class Sorceror who has a vengeance against all Free Way members. Just the 3rd Deisho in the service of the High Sorceror, nothing to be wary of, right?" Dash'tan shook his head. "Thanks for coming by when you did." Kerrick smiled with half her mouth, but turnth, but turned serious as she spoke,
"Don't thank me. I didn't kill him." The spindly young man blinked, and Kerrick continued, "I was hired by the Free Way to find Mashian's hideout, for they only knew he lived in the Jing Jungle. Not much to go on, but I have a few connections in Qu'Anur in Quenthi's court that gave me a general idea, and then it was just a matter of scouting around. Following your tracks, actually. When I got to the cottage, Mashian wasn't there, so I entered and looked around a bit. Information of the 3rd Deisho is always useful." She winked at the two conspiratorially.
"Anyway, he interrupted my search by coming through that trapdoor. He was too close to shoot, but too far away for close combat. He sent fire at me, but it missed when I tripped on the rug there and fell. Then he tried to tap into me as a source for his sorcerous energy, but he tried to draw too much, and ended up leeching his own energy as well. Not a healthy process, as you can imagine. I'm just lucky he hadn't eaten yet, or he might have had more energy than me, and I would've been desht."
"So that's why he's all shrivelled," Qandra deduced. Kerrick nodded, and the three stood in studious silence for a few seconds, until Qandra ventured,
"So, are you with the Free Way, or Quenthi, or someone else? Who exactly are you?"
"Ah! There is a question! Do you mean who am I in a literal sense, or in ae, or in a more metaphysical sense?" She cocked her head playfully, and Qandra blinked. The tall woman gave out a short laugh and then answered,
"I am Kerrick, non-member of the Free Way, and a spy. Not the assassain kind of spy, quite dishonorable wermun they are, but a tracking-eavesdropping-information-gathering kind of spy. Not that anyone would believe me if they found me with all my weapons out." She gave a sly grin and then opened up several of her many pockets to take out a dagger, a hunting knife, some small, metal, pointy objects, and a contraption that seemed to be all wood and springs. With a proud smile she pulled back on its handle, and took a small, sharp, metal-tipped rod out of her pouch and put it in the object. She raised it, and then pulled a trigger to send the rod shooting out. Its feathered shaft quivered only slightly, as it was half-buried in the opposite wall.
"It's a tiny crossbow!" Qandra exclaimed, unable to contain her delight. Dash'tan shook his head and began rummaging through the drawers of the table where Mashian had sat. Some he put aside in a pile; others he threw on the floor. Sighing, Kerrick retrieved her bolt and picked up the papers from the floor. She scanned them carefully, putting most in the desk drawer and showing the others to Dash'tan.
"Look what you would have missed. They're planning to infiltrate the Free Way meeting this Thursday."
"What?!,"What?!," he questioned in disbelief, "Where?" She pointed to one phrase that read, "The foxes always infiltrate the chicken coop. Free meal? If the way is clear, yes. Meeting with Drilsda's dashao Thursday. If I am good, I will have luck like you!"
"It's a hitra letter to a friend. Oddly worded, yes, but how could that be important?" Dash'tan still didn't believe her.
"Ah, but why would the 3rd Deisho have a letter from such a hitra? And how would you explain the pinpricks in the corners of the paper? Four of them?" She smirked silently and subtly as she waited for his response.
"Well, they hadn't used that code before," he returned lamely. There was an awkward silence as the two collected more information from the memos, and Qandra studied the source of their contention. Finally she realized every 4th word contained the true content of the message. She smiled, and put the paper in her pocket.
"Can we go now?" she asked patiently.
"I have all I need," said Kerrick.
"Then let's go." Dash'tan pushed the door open and went through, leaving it to slam on Qandra's outstretched hand. Kerrick smirked again.
The three backtracked along the way Qandra had come, until they crossed the bridge and arrived at the clearing where the armored creature still lay, dead.
They then continued south, Dash'tan leading downstream. Qandra smiled mildly, gratefu mildly, grateful to be back on the trail. Six days left – I hope I make it on time! In the apricot fuzz glow of sunset, Kerrick fell in step with Qandra.
"So, Qandra, what's a hitra girl like you doing running around in the Jing Jungle?" Qandra glanced warily at the tall woman for any sign of mocking, but her face was smiling and honest.
"I'm on my quest to progress from rilca to djan sorceror. I used to farm with my family, but", she shrugged, "they don't need me and I don't need them." As she spoke, Qandra couldn't help feeling like she just bit into a grapefruit. She felt like a sour traitor dismissing her family so easily, but at the same time it was sweet to acknowledge her independence. Kerrick nodded and appeared thoughtful.
"I kind of feel the same way. All the same, I go and visit my parents every now and then. Make sure they have all they need, chat a bit, and also visit my brother and his kids. Sometimes I wish I were in his spot – calmly married and worried about nothing more than whether I'll burn the rice today. But," she shrugged, "There must be something different in store for me, because it hasn't happened yet." Now it was Qandra's turn to be thoughtful. She had always been so involved in her parents and her brother that she had never even thought about a family of her own. I wonder if sorcerors ever marry . . .
She shook her head. I've got otherot other things to worry about now. I need to be working on my quest. There's not much time left.
The silence of long travel held Qandra's tongue as the trail disappeared behind them. The brush grew over the path more and more, and soon Qandra was holding branches aside for Kerrick and the trail become more and more simply a wider empty spot between brambles and overhanging branches. But Dash'tan continued to quietly lead on, seemingly knowing where they were going.