Chapter 4: Part 3 - Tools and Devices

Yelazar the Carver wasn't a bad travelling companion. He was obnoxious and self-absorbed, talking only of himself and his own affairs – but he could also read the landscape and the weather, could predict the movements of the Risen, and made the best camp food Vasha had ever tasted.

None of that meant she liked him, exactly. They'd been travelling south for two days, long enough that Vasha was starting to grow suspicious. Was there really enough of Malchor's Leap to walk for two days without reaching a camp?

The truth was, she didn't know. Even if her suspicions were correct, she couldn't necessarily blame Yelazar. Yinn had been manipulating them for weeks and that wasn't likely to stop now they were in Orr. Maybe he was going to trap them here, walking in circles until exhaustion ground them into the dust.

Or until they killed one another in frustration. Knowing Yinn, that was more likely.

"Don't you think we should have found the Pact by now?" Vasha asked, on their second night beside a campfire that Yelazar had effortlessly kindled.

Yelazar poked a stick into the embers, which immediately flared up. At least all the wood in Malchor's Leap was dry. "Who's to say there are any Pact left?"

A possibility Vasha was trying not to contemplate. There were still Risen, despite the fall of Zhaitan. That meant there would still be Pact, surely?

Unless Yelazar was right. The Pact might have moved on to other lands and other dragons. There was no guarantee there were any left in Malchor's Leap, or that Yinn would let them see any camps that were still here.

"You're wondering if Yinn has left us out here to die," Yelazar said.

"Aren't you? We should have found help by now."

"As I don't require any 'help', that doesn't really concern me. We're either making progress or we're not – and I believe we are. Satisfied?"

Vasha wasn't, not in the slightest. She'd only agreed to accompany Yelazar as a means of finding the rest of the Marauders. This wasn't an alliance she wished to pursue for long.

Yelazar began unrolling his blankets. "You'll keep the first watch? Good."

He was asleep within moments; if Yelazar had anything on his conscience, it never kept him awake. Vasha stared at his back, the Orrian night casting strange colours across their camp. This was a region of shifting miasmas and odd clouds that seemed to rise off the tortured land. It was impossible to trust even your own eyesight.

She certainly didn't trust Yelazar.

He knew where they were going – Vasha was now certain of that. Somehow, he'd found a way to read the cloud-hidden sun and the barren land, and he was leading them towards... Something. Not the Pact, at any rate. What could he want out here?

His motives, Vasha supposed, were almost immaterial. She just had to work out how he was doing it.

It wasn't necromancy. She hadn't seen Yelazar use any magic since the moment he saved her from the elemental. Unless he possessed an extraordinary sense of direction... He had to be carrying something, a tool or device that showed him where to go. A tool or device she could use.

She was almost certain Yelazar was asleep, but 'almost' wasn't good enough. It was a full two hours before Vasha dared to move. Even then, she went for a walk around the camp, pretending she needed to stretch her legs. Yelazar didn't even twitch.

After that, she worked quickly. His pack was under his head, making it difficult to search; the pockets of his robes weren't much easier, but she had to start somewhere. There was nothing in most of them, not even dust and grit from the surrounding landscape. The one on his right hip contained a small leather flask of something that definitely wasn't water, but she doubted alcohol helped his sense of direction. Which just left the pockets across his chest.

Vasha winced as she eased her hand into the first. She was almost nose to nose with Yelazar, close enough to feel his breath on her cheek. He was surprisingly fragrant after days on the road; maybe one of these pockets contained some kind of perfume. The one directly over his heart, perhaps, in which there was a round lump that might be a bottle–

Vasha's fingers closed on it. She could feel something cold and smooth that might be glass – except when she drew it out, it had the warm sheen of brass. Almost holding her breath, she slid the object into her palm and sat back on her heels. She knew what it was without opening the lid: a compass.

She opened it anyway and checked the swinging needle. She'd considered buying a compass of her own before the first round, but Gull always knew where they were going and there had been no reason to think they'd be separated. She regretted that a great deal, now. Yelazar's compass, after all, showed they hadn't been going south for some time. They were heading west.

"Do you make it a habit to rummage through people's possessions whilst they're asleep?" Yelazar's dark eyes were open.

Vasha refused to look guilty. She snapped the compass shut and rose slowly to her feet. "You've been leading us in the wrong direction since we met."

"I wouldn't say that." Yelazar pushed himself upright in a single, fluid movement. "I don't need the reassurance of the Pact. I never had any intention of going south."

For a moment, anger eclipsed all Vasha's common sense. It didn't matter how dangerous Yelazar was – he'd lied to her. She shook the compass in his face. "You should have been honest with me. What kind of alliance is this otherwise?"

Yelazar was silent for a long time – so long, in fact, that Vasha knew he was debating whether to tell her the truth. Finally, he gave a cold smile. "The kind where searching for your teammates would only have slowed me down. Also, if we are indeed being honest, the kind where I brought you along so I could make use of your corpse in an emergency. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Of course it's not." Vasha took several steps backwards, edging round the camp towards her own pack – and making sure she slipped the compass into a pocket. "We had an agreement. You knew I didn't want to go west until I found more of my team."

Yelazar actually yawned. "Your team, always your damned team. You're allowing yourself to be slowed down by meaningless personal interactions. Listen to me, Vasha. You're quick and you're smart. You're resourceful. I actually like you, though it pains me to say it. Stick with me and we might win this game."

Vasha's heel hit the side of her pack, and she bent to scoop it up. Yelazar didn't intervene as she swung it onto her back. "You're mad if you think I'd continue this alliance."

Yelazar gave a weary sigh, as though all his worst suspicions had been confirmed. "Humans. You seem to go out of your way to disappoint me."

"You're not exactly a credit to the species yourself." Two more steps backwards. Just a few more and she'd be able to run–

"Don't think you're getting away." Yelazar had a dagger in his hand that had come out of nowhere. "Alliance or not, I intend to maintain every advantage in this game – and that includes you."

A buzzing filled Vasha's ears – and then the insects reached her. She lurched backwards, but her vision was filled with smoke. She couldn't see Yelazar, just feel the insects pelting against her face, her raised arms–

"I really did want to keep you alive." The words were a purr, only inches from her shoulder – and they were accompanied by the prick of a dagger against the side of her neck.

A distant part of Vasha knew she should arm herself. Between the swarm and Yelazar, though, panic had taken over. She lashed out with one arm, barely noticing the sting as a second dagger sliced across her flesh. Lashed out – and felt her fist connect with the side of Yelazar's head.

He grunted and stumbled backwards. Vasha swung towards him, hearing another grunt as the weight of her pack thumped into his stomach. Before he could right himself, Vasha aimed a kick towards his ankles. All she'd intended was to push him as far away as possible, to give herself space to think – but the ground was soft and crumbling. With that single step backwards, Yelazar was suddenly tumbling down the hill.

Vasha leapt after him. The insects were gone, but now her head roared with sound of a different kind. Panic had given way to anger, at Yelazar for betraying her, at herself for ever believing he wouldn't. As he slid to a stop, she landed on him with one knee, driving all the air from his chest.

And driving his head against the stone he'd landed on.

There was such a resounding crack that Vasha leapt back to her feet, panic gripping her again. She'd killed him. Oh gods, she'd killed him–

Yelazar gave a groan, one hand fluttering towards his injured head. That was all Vasha needed to see. Yelazar was alive and he was also incapacitated. She staggered away from him, barely even stopping to get her bearings. As soon as she reached solid ground, she turned her face towards the south and ran.