“That’s handy,” he said, sitting down beside his pack. “I can think of a few times we could have used you. Once—”
“If this story ends with someone freezing to death, I don’t need to hear it,” Beq said, dropping heavily to the packed earth.
“Nobody freezes,” Varo said. Then, after a moment’s contemplation he added, “The polar bear got him first.”
Beq caught Maya’s eye and heaved a sigh. Maya grinned at her.
“We should keep a watch,” she said. “We’re not that far from the border, and I doubt the Legion sweeps here very often. There could be plaguespawn.”
“No need.” Tanax dug a small unmetal-and-glass sphere out of his pack, about the size of a marble. Maya felt him thread a bit of deiat into it, and it started glowing.
“A watch charm?” Beq said, suddenly interested. “Where did you get one of those?”
“Not from the quartermaster, that’s for sure,” Varo said.
“It was a gift from my mentor. He said I would have more use for it now than he would.” He sounded a little defensive and hardened his tone immediately. “Now, get some rest. We’ll move out early tomorrow morning and reach Litnin by midday.”
Lying on her bedroll beside the softly glowing watch charm, Maya found herself too keyed up for sleep. She wasn’t worried, exactly—the charm would sound if anything came near, and even if there were plaguespawn they weren’t likely to be anything two agathia couldn’t handle. She just felt too aware, cognizant of every rustling branch and snapping twig in the forest. Stars winked at her through the gently shifting canopy.
I wonder where Jaedia is now. It was the first time she’d been away from her mentor for years. She’d told herself she was ready, even eager to move on from the constrained life of an agathios, but now she felt like a part of her that had been tied down was flapping loose. It was made worse by the knowledge that whatever Jaedia was doing, it was certainly important and possibly dangerous. That black spider-thing … Maya shuddered at the memory of the crunch as it tore itself free from Hollis’ neck. If that’s what she’s investigating, I should be with her. She needs better backup than just Marn.
And, of course, there were other distractions. Beq lay next to her, curled up on her side under a thin sheet, her precious spectacles set carefully beside her bedroll. Maya could hear her soft, slow breathing. She didn’t have any trouble getting to sleep. Maya wondered, idly, what would happen if she rolled over and threw her arm across the girl’s shoulders. Probably she’d think she was being attacked by a bear.
*
Varo boiled tea in the morning, which Maya gulped greedily, and they broke camp and set out at a moderate pace. Fortunately, the terrain got easier as they went along, rough ground flattening out, and they made good time. When they reached the point where the little creek they’d been following emptied into a larger river, Varo checked his map and announced they were only an hour south of the village.
“Do we have a cover story?” Maya asked as they refilled their canteens in the shallows. “Or are we going in openly?”
“Openly, of course.” Tanax seemed genuinely puzzled. “This is the Republic. Why would we need to conceal ourselves?”
“Jaedia says that people are usually afraid of the Order,” Maya said.
“Typical soft Pragmatic.” Tanax gave a mirthless grin. “If they’re afraid, that’s all to the good. We’re here to investigate them for heresy and treason. A little fear might encourage the villagers to offer up the guilty more quickly.”
Maya frowned. “Assuming there are any guilty.”
“There will be,” Tanax said, one hand on his haken. “The Council doesn’t make mistakes in cases like this. If they’ve sent us here, there’ll be something to find.”
He took the lead, now that they were close, the others following behind in single file and in silence. Maya wanted to ask Varo if he’d been on this sort of mission before, and whether Tanax’s approach was typical, but there was no way to speak without the other agathios overhearing. Maybe he’s right. She and Jaedia had often chased rumors to no result, but the Council presumably had higher standards for evidence. Maya touched the Thing and tried to calm her mind. Remember. I must do well here. That means doing what the Council requires.
They passed the top of a low ridge, and the village was suddenly in sight. It was set in a fold in the land, with a stream running down the middle to feed into the river, and buildings spreading outward from it up both slopes of the gentle valley. There were perhaps fifty homes, fairly large as backcountry villages went, with a pier for a few small boats jutting out into the river at one end and terraced gardens stretching up the valley at the other. In between were haphazardly placed plaster and timber houses, with clay roofs and windows blocked by rag curtains instead of glass. Quite a few people were visible, and a small gang of chickens ran free in the street, pecking bugs out of the midden. Several loadbirds milled around in a pen by the water, owlishly watching the antics of their smaller cousins.
A small group, headed in their direction, stopped abruptly at the sight of the four of them. There were two men and a woman, all in tough canvas trousers, heavy work shirts with rolled-up sleeves, and thick leather gauntlets. Maya guessed they were loggers; the big felling axes they carried looked more like tools than weapons. The woman’s eyes widened at the sight of two haken, and she muttered something to her companions. They tensed up, standing straighter.
“Litnin welcomes the Twilight Order,” the logger woman said, stepping forward. “We are honored by your visit.”
“Indeed you are,” Tanax said. He stopped in front of her and frowned at the realization that she was at least ten centimeters taller than he was.
“Can I ask your business?” the woman said. “Is this a patrol, or—”
“To whom am I speaking?” Tanax said.
“My name is Kaiura Axebreaker, Centarch,” she said, bowing. Maya guessed she was in her midthirties, with tanned olive skin, thickly muscled arms, and a curly mop of gray-green hair.
“And are you the magistrate of this village?”
“I suppose.” Kaiura scratched the back of her neck. “I’m the one who signs the paperwork, anyway.”
“Excellent,” Tanax said. “If you could conduct me to your residence, I would like to begin work immediately.”
One of the other loggers started to say something, but Kaiura held up a hand to silence him.
“Apologies, Centarch,” she said. “Can I ask what work that would be?”
“A thorough investigation of Litnin,” Tanax said with a cold smile. “I can’t say more at this time. But I value your cooperation.”
*
A little more than an hour later, Tanax was sitting in a chair at Kaiura’s kitchen table, examining a bound ledger, where, in crooked handwriting, the lives of Litnin’s people were chronicled. Maya, Beq, and Varo stood behind him, unregarded.
“According to this, there are eighty-five adults in the village,” he said, looking up at the logger. She stood beside the table, still in her work clothes, though she’d laid aside her axe. “Is that correct?”