Always Walk Forward Read online

  "What did you do?" Sam asked as the guards raised the gate and one stuck the triangular head-sized Keystone into the section of arcane barrier just beyond it, opening a hole in the milky wall large enough for them to pass through.

  Drea grinned back slyly at her and Vincent. "That's a secret."

  #

  Eli sat chained in the back of the cart, cringing in perpetual fright like he had since he was snatched from his home what seemed like ages ago. The sights of the outside world that would have astounded him under other circumstances, the mindbogglingly long swathes of land and seemingly infinite sky which stretched above them, had no effect as he couldn't even process them. Everything he saw, he barely took in through the suffocating haze of panic. So overwhelming was his dread, he thought he might die from a stopped heart before the Paladins could do whatever they intended to him.

  "What are you planning to do?" he asked one of the closest helmeted—faceless—Paladins riding alongside him. Theirs was an imposing procession; a wagon flanked by three armored riders on each side, three in back, and three ahead. He received no answer. "What will you do to me?" Silence. "Are you going to kill me?"

  The one he addressed still didn't speak, but the older leader riding in front who the others called Captain Leland finally did. "If we were going to kill you, what do you think is making us take so long? If you needed to be dead, you would be dead."

  He sat quietly for a while. That was good, that they didn't mean to kill him... at least not yet. The fear abated some, but didn't go away. He started to imagine other unpleasant fates that didn't involve death—torture, slavery, imprisonment. If what they had in mind for him wasn't horrible, why would they have to take him so abruptly and forcefully instead of consulting with him first? "Am I to be put... into bondage?"

  Leland nodded. "Yes. You are to be taken to the nearest brothel and treated to one of the more specialized ladies' care."

  Eli was so shook up and disoriented, it took him the better part of a minute to realize the man had been joking. "Why are you doing... whatever you're doing to me? I haven't done anything wrong, and I'm not anybody special. I don't understand."

  "What makes you so entitled," a helmeted Paladins said, "to think you have the right to 'understand?'" It was the first time one of them had spoken directly to him. Though he'd heard them talk to each other before, he was still somehow surprised to confirm they sounded human.

  "Entitled? Right? What are you saying? I just want to know..." Eli burst into tears anew. He had the sinking feeling he would never see his friends—no, his family—again, and it terrified him.

  "Who do you belong to?" Leland asked.

  "My family," he blurted out without thinking.

  "Your family is dead. Dead more than a decade, burned alive around you as you watched."

  Shudders wracked Eli's body. Why were they so cruel, why did they have to remind him? Their screams, such awful screams... they torn through his psyche now, ripping at him and making him faint. "My new family," he managed to get out. "Director Jon, Joan, Cal, Vincent, Sam." The names were like a rock which he clung to in the rushing river of recent events.

  Leland's jaw tightened. "You're that attached. Interesting. But if not for this adoptive family, who do you belong to?"

  He thought on it for a bit and the fear in his breast was joined by anger. "You want me to say the government, don't you? I don't agree with that. Why should I not get to choose my path like others do and furthermore, why am I the only one of the orphans you took?" Not that he wanted his friends to suffer the same fate, but it was an issue worth considering.

  "Close," Leland simply replied, "but you got the answer wrong." He dropped back far enough to whisper into Eli's ear.

  "The correct answer is, humanity."

  Chapter 3

  The city stood atop a gentle slope, from which Sam and the others could see far into the distance. Her eyes followed the bare dirt road as it snaked across sweeping plains speckled with flowers, between foreboding hills thick with dark trees, up ridges that beckoned one to challenge them and back down, before vanishing into the horizon. The grass on either side of the path towered as high as her knees, a far cry from its stunted cousin found under the barrier. Over the vast vistas spread out before them rose the even vaster sky, a great ceiling perhaps like the dome but over the entire world, whose limits they could not know let alone touch.

  "Was it always this way," she asked, "that the outside was so unsafe for humans to travel? It seems sad that most will never lay eyes on such beauty in their lives."

  Drea gazed sidelong at her. "You think this beautiful? Boring monotonous plains, runt hills overgrown with annoying low-branched trees, sorry excuses for slopes one can run up all day barely breaking a sweat? This is the most mundane of lands. Climbing the sheer cliffs of the Titan's Basin as the waterfalls scream beside you, to attain heights which cannot be reached any other way without wings, that is an experience."

  "Quit making stuff up like you're a demigod or some kind of mythic hero," Vincent said. "You're just a normal person who's all of what, twenty-two was it? I know you're trying to put us at ease by playing up your worldliness, but it has the opposite effect when you oversell it and make yourself seem insecure."

  "Great job motivating yourself and Sam," Drea said with a sour look. "'Big Sis Drea isn't that good, we're all going to die the moment we meet a single Paladin.' How inspiring." She gave a sarcastic thumbs up. "To answer your original question, Sam, there's never no danger, but it peaks and ebbs. Three years ago when the daimons made their last great offensive against the anjeli and our government decided to help, the king of daimons was slain and his followers fell relatively quiet for a spell. But maybe their king was killed too early in the conflict, for they had not incurred very extensive losses before then. Thus after this short time, they have already recovered enough to grow bold again."

  "We helped the anjeli out? I thought humans usually stayed out of the feud between the other races? And such a short time ago too..."

  "It was a small force we lent, targeted for maximum effect. I suppose our leaders did not enjoy the prospect of a full-scale war between us and the daimons, were they able to conquer the anjeli completely."

  Despite his doubts towards her, Vincent's expression seemed rapt at her current story. "Are the anjeli always at a disadvantage against the daimons? I always thought they would be equal, given their neverending battle."

  "The anjeli have been able to hold their own with their versatility and cunning, and occasional help from us. But in direct battle, the daimons' magic of destruction outpowers the anjeli's magic of creation on average, and the physical might of the stronger daimons gives them an added advantage."

  "And we humans have the weakest magic of all," Sam added gloomily. Not to mention the lowest percentage of individuals able to use it.

  "Perhaps so. But we've survived this long, haven't we?" Drea winked. "Besides, you shouldn't underestimate the value of a plain old sword in good hands. Because we don't have offensive magic to rely on, our best warriors tend to hone their martial skill to the highest level found among all three races."

  "That does make some sense," Vincent said. "Still, I wouldn't think skill with a sword matches up overly well to destruction magic."

  Sam thought of something. "Anjeli can fly. Shouldn't that also be an advantage over the daimons?"

  "Some daimons can fly too," Drea said, "and most of those that can't have ranged attacks or can use weapons. So it doesn't make a huge difference. Anyway, you two should stop gawking at the scenery so much and pick up the pace. They're on horse and we're on foot, so we ought not to dawdle."

  Sam wondered if they could have procured steeds before leaving, but horses were rare enough that would probably be impractical.

  On they walked, Drea in the lead. The orb of the sun rose into view, its brighter light out here making Sam squint. When they came to a fork in the path, Drea turned without explanation to the right. "Do we even kn
ow where we're going?" Vincent asked. "If we don't know where they've taken Eli..."

  "We're on their trail. Since not a lot of other convoys—as in, none—have left the city lately, I'd think it's theirs. Do you not see their tracks underfoot, that of a wagon and a dozen riders?" She shook her head. "Sorry, sometimes I forget you're kids." Sam thought she seemed uncharacteristically exasperated, and the suspicions that led to were discouraging. In all likelihood the confidence was a front and Drea felt as scared as her and Vincent. Maybe a little less. Her outdoor skills, and some of her traveling experience, at least appeared legitimate.

  The passage of hours wore heavily on them. They all had missed a night of sleep, and when the initial thrill of exotic sights passed the fatigue hit Sam hard. It became noticeable how dry her mouth was, the difficulty she had keeping her eyelids open and how her eyes stung when she did. She thought at herself the motto, Save Eli. Stop the Paladins, but couldn't draw much strength from it. Vincent looked to be suffering similarly. They chewed on jerky and nibbled at buns left by Drea in their packs, and that gave them the energy to carry on, just.

  Dragging her feet past a hill, Sam was jolted from her half-asleep stupor by the sight of two large blackened craters in its side. "Those don't seem natural. Are they-"

  "The results of a battle between anjeli and daimons, I presume," Vincent finished.

  Drea took in the holes with an apathetic look. "It could have been a fight between daimons too. The daimons aren't as unified as the anjeli, which is another reason that the latter have been able to hold their own."

  "Imagine how many people would die if such creatures flew over and unleashed their power on a residential neighborhood," Sam said in a small voice. "It's a good thing we have the domes."

  Vincent's eyes lit up like he'd just had a brilliant idea. "What if humans and anjeli joined forces and wiped out the daimons? Then there wouldn't be any need for domes and the two races could work together to make a better world."

  Drea sighed. "As if that was an original thought. The problem with that is, though the anjeli don't seem hostile towards us, we don't know how they'd act in a world devoid of their eternal enemy. Maybe they would turn around and attempt to bully us then."

  As they couldn't catch up to Eli's captors within the day, they made camp just off the road after nightfall. Drea made a fire and informed them after eating that the bundles of cloth tied to their packs were bedrolls, which they unfurled on the ground for a much needed rest. Even with the nearby flames and the thick bedroll enveloping her, Sam felt acutely chillier than she had sleeping indoors, cold winds biting at her face and creeping in next to her body. Her worry for Eli too demanded her attention, so that grim fantasies of what might happen to him played through her head. She noticed Vincent already snoring loudly and smiled. Lucky boy, who she might soon have reason to be jealous of.

  Opening her eyes, she said to Drea, "I hope I'll be able to fall asleep. I'll probably drop dead tomorrow if I can't."

  "Don't worry. You'll sleep like a babe."

  When she let her eyelids drift closed again, the exhaustion she had fought back all day came rushing in at once, and she found that oblivion claimed her easily.

  #

  Sam woke in the morning feeling a good bit better than the last day, if still a tad sluggish. They continued on, eating some nuts for breakfast while they walked. The landscape closed in now, as the road wound between patches of forest which prevented them from seeing far. Shade dimmed the path, putting Sam irrationally on edge. She had heard daimons were just as likely to attack in bright sun as any other kind of lighting, but the dark was a primal fear of humans after all. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching among the menacingly dense brush for movement.

  "I know we're following the Paladins' trail," she asked trying to take her mind off their intimidating surroundings, "but do you have a notion of where they might be taking Eli? Picturing it might help me prepare mentally for what's to come."

  "Good idea," Vincent said, looking straight forward as if he had tired of scaring himself like she was. "That might help me too."

  Whether Drea heard their teeth clattering was impossible to tell. "There's a keep up ahead the way we're going, used as a waypoint by traveling military personnel." Only the stoutest of man-made structures stood outside the cities, which most daimons wouldn't have the power or courage to threaten other than in numbers. "Although I doubt that's where they plan on keeping him long term, they may make a stop there. If so, we may have your friend back soon."

  Sam's fright lessened, as anticipation of a chance to rescue Eli displaced some of her anxiety toward the nearby unknown. Yet "soon" didn't come quickly enough, for night fell before they saw any sign of a building. "I thought you said there was a keep ahead," Vincent said while they set up camp.

  "I did, but not how close it was. You think a waypoint would be two days' walk from Berilim with how far it is between cities? Have patience, we'll be there in a few more days."

  After sleeping, they resumed their trek. Drea had been right. The scenery already grew stale and boring in Sam's eyes, even the scars of magical battles upon the earth no longer stirring her imagination the way they initially had. Though physically active, she wasn't used to walking so long and with a heavy load besides. Her legs ached, her feet hurt probably full of blisters, the pack straps chafed her shoulders, and she itched all over. Vincent looked every bit as uncomfortable, if not more. She harbored doubts about how safe it was to drink the water they gathered from streams and pools along the way. But she figured Eli had it worse, and soldiered on without complaint.

  The better part of a week had passed when one afternoon, Drea suddenly called for them to slow down. "What?" Sam asked. She'd become so focused on maintaining her dogged pace, a labored approximation of Drea's effortless one, that her attention to the environment wavered. A bad and dangerous habit she needed to correct, she realized.

  Drea pointed forward. "Look. The keep." She saw it after a moment. The facade of a stone building, still small in the distance, could be glimpsed in part between the trees. "Stay low and follow me." Drea leading the way, they crept through the brush towards the keep, the fearsome shadows now their ally. Twigs and brambles scratched at Sam and Vincent, making the latter curse softly under his breath as a mild cut lined his cheek, but Drea moved smooth as water among the shrubbery. Guards became visible atop the roof ringed with ballistae, making Sam worry despite having decent cover. Getting the closest they could without coming into the open, Drea raised her hand in a gesture to stop. "You two stay here." Waiting for what she judged an opportune moment, she dashed over to press herself against the wall and then vanished around the corner.

  A brief period of silently watching later, Vincent said, "I wish we could see what she's doing."

  Sam felt anxious too. "I'm sure she's just checking the place out, trying to learn if Eli is in there." It would help her nerves if they could have some idea of how close Drea was to succeeding or being caught, but that would realistically be too much to ask.

  More minutes passed. That no audible commotion broke out from the keep calmed them somewhat. Then Vincent asked, "What was that?"

  "What was what?" An instant later, she heard it too. A soft crunch as of leaves reached her ears. Was there someone behind them? A soldier maybe, coming back after some errand. Shit.

  They turned, too late as not one but two armored figures walked into view. Sam couldn't tell if they were Paladins, for they wore chain instead of plate and their bucketlike helms lacked the starkness of the flat masks favored by those who visited the playhouse. Crouching down, Sam wished at them to miraculously look over her and Vincent without noticing them, but it wasn't to be. Eyes widened behind a narrow slit as the man in front spotted them.

  "Who are you, and what are you doing snooping around here?" he barked, drawing a longsword while his partner did the same.

  Vincent sputtered, "We're, uh, um..."

  Sam drew her axe. "Ready your arms
, Vincent! We'll have to fight." As she saw the hesitance with which he raised his mace and shield, she had to admit she also felt none too confident.

  The soldiers advanced on them. "Wait," the one who hadn't spoken said, "you're probably friends of that kid who was here before, aren't you? Brave for you to come out alone after him, but you won't go any further."

  Hands grasped their helmets from behind and bashed them together. A loud clang and squeal of bent metal hurt Sam's ears. "Who said they're alone?" Drea asked as they slumped together to the ground, helms brutally dented.

  Sam stared. "Are they dead?"

  Drea bent and checked their pulses. "Alive, but I can't guarantee they'll wake up mentally sound. Anyway, he isn't here."

  "So we heard."

  "These two mentioned that? They're headed north towards the next city. We'll have to catch them on the way there."

  "On the way? Why can't we get him back in the city?"

  "It's better if we do it before then." She started away, motioning for them to come. With a last glance at the downed men, grimly wondering what would have happened if Drea didn't come back in time, Sam followed.

  #

  They circled around the keep and journeyed onward. Reflecting on it, the fact they hadn't met any daimons yet seemed rather fortunate. But the farther they went, the greater the chance they would run into trouble. Drea's behavior changed. She started trying to teach things during camp, showing them how to make a snare with rope and sticks, identify edible plants, stitch wounds and splint broken bones, and other skills for wilderness survival. Sam already knew some of them from her father, but the refresher didn't hurt and would also help Vincent. Learning to skin small animals wasn't the most appealing though, but she understood the use for it. She didn't ask Drea why she did this, but had unhappy suspicions. She must want to prepare them in case she were to unexpectedly leave them...