Midge burst into tears. "My lord," he sobbed, "Lord Arthur is a good man. He won't abandon us."
Willem was speechless. What do you know about him? You know nothing! But he couldn't bring himself to say it.
Up ahead, Elias stripped off the dead soldier's uniform. "Brother Blaze," he called out, "we can't wear these anymore." He didn't explain why.
He tore a strip of cloth from the tunic and tied his hair back into a simple ponytail.
Willem did the same, though he now felt unnervingly empty-handed. His greatsword was at the bottom of a waterfall.
Midge was the only one who maintained some semblance of order, finding a small branch to pin his hair up in its usual bun.
At the foot of a mountain, Elias told them to wait. He scaled the peak, his eyes scanning the horizon. He could tell east from west by the setting sun, but that was useless. They were deep in the Wild Abyss, and wandering blindly was a death sentence.
He was looking for smoke. The fires back at the ambush site should still be burning. If he could find the smoke, he could find his way back to the convoy. He still had a duty to fulfill.
But he saw nothing. No smoke, no glow. Nothing.
We're lost. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. The underground river had carried them too far. Even if they found their way back, the convoy would be long gone. And they were well beyond the fifty-mile limit of the Sacred Boundary Pact. They were trespassers in the beasts' domain.
Regret, sharp and bitter, twisted in his gut. If he hadn't been so greedy, if he hadn't chased that damned carriage...
He pushed the feeling down. Panicking wouldn't help. He waved for Willem and Midge to come up. He'd found a cave on the way up. They would spend the night there.
They gathered some dry grass for bedding and settled in as the sky filled with a spray of brilliant stars. They agreed to take turns on watch. Elias took the first half of the night.
It wasn't long before Willem's snores echoed through the cave, soon joined by Midge's softer ones.
Elias sat outside, leaning against a rock, staring at the stars. He needed a map. Without one, they were just stumbling in the dark.
As his mind raced, he noticed something odd. One of the "stars" in the distance was flickering, dancing. It wasn't a star. It was a fire.
He stood, his eyes narrowed. It was on a mountainside, across the river. He didn't know if it was men or beasts, but he had to find out.
He slipped back into the cave and shook Willem. The man was dead to the world. Annoyed, Elias clamped his hand over Willem's mouth and nose.
Willem woke with a jolt, his eyes wide with terror.
"There's a fire across the river," Elias whispered, removing his hand. "I'm going to check it out. You stand guard here."
Willem nodded. Outside, he squinted into the darkness. "Be careful," he said.
As Elias turned to leave, Willem grabbed his arm. "Brother Blackwood. You have to make it back. If you and Midge get back to the capital safely, I will pay you four thousand silver coins."
He'd wanted to say it earlier, but had been afraid of offending the man's pride. But now, seeing Elias about to venture out alone, he was terrified of being abandoned. He knew he and Midge were a burden.
He had to give the man a reason to come back. Two thousand silvers' worth of grain had been enough to make him risk his life. Four thousand should be enough to buy it.
It worked. Elias's eyes lit up. This disastrous trip was turning profitable after all. The danger of the Wastes suddenly seemed a lot less threatening. "Brother Blaze," he said, trying to sound offended, "we are friends. To speak of money is to insult our bond." He paused. "Besides, you're broke. You lost all your luggage."
Willem knew he had him. "I have no money now," he admitted, "but my uncle is a merchant in the capital. He can spare four thousand silvers. On my honor as an aspirant, I will pay you."
Elias stroked his ponytail, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "Words are just words. What's to stop you from backing out once we're safe?"
"I'll write you a promissory note," Willem said earnestly. "As soon as we find paper and ink."
So I have to find them some paper and ink, Elias thought. He hadn't planned on abandoning them. But an extra four thousand silver coins? He couldn't say no to that. "Fine," he sighed, pretending to be reluctant. "I accept. Now get back in the cave and try not to get eaten."
He clapped Willem on the shoulder and melted into the night.
He crossed the river and made his way towards the firelight. After several miles, he scaled the mountain and crept towards the source: a cave, with a campfire burning on a ledge outside. Three figures—two old men and an old woman—were huddled around a cooking pot.
But it was the fourth person, who had just emerged from the cave, that captured his attention.
A woman, wearing a wide-brimmed traveler's hat and a flowing green cloak. A silk veil covered the lower half of her face. As she passed the fire, the light illuminated what he could see: fair skin, a small vermilion dot between her brows, and long, dark lashes framing a pair of eyes that seemed to hold the depth of a still lake.
She moved with an effortless grace that was utterly mesmerizing. Even with half her face hidden, he knew, with an instinct he couldn't explain, that she was beautiful.
She walked to the edge of the cliff and stood there, gazing at the stars, a silent, elegant silhouette against the firelight. A strange, unfamiliar feeling stirred in his young heart. A feeling his master had warned him about, comparing the women of the world to tigers.
After a moment, she sighed softly and turned. As she moved, a glint of light from her waist caught his eye. It was a round, black iron clasp, the size of a coin, that seemed to swallow the firelight, emitting a faint, cold shimmer.
He recognized it instantly. A Shadow Token. The mark of a merchant from the Shadow Corner Bazaar.
The token was an ID, issued by the enigmatic ruler of the black market, The Shadow Cliff. It was said to be impossible to forge; it only gave off its unique luster when worn by its true owner.
These were not just any travelers. They were black market merchants. And they were a long way from home.