Chapter 08
The acrid stench of burnt black powder hung heavy in the twilight air, mixing with the sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood.
Shots rang out in the distance, fired by the group now hunting down the retreating raiders, noise that as the seconds passed gave way to an awkward silence.
Atop the weathered stone of the lone tower, and clustered around its splintered timber entrance, half a dozen long barrels stayed leveled at a single point: Shiro and Chaska.
Neither of them had moved. The distance was both reassuring and not. Not, because from this range accuracy with the guns they were carrying wouldn't be great. Reassuring, because they were still well within visible range, which meant they had to deal with this whether they liked it or not.
Despite the barrels aimed at him, and despite his decision not to challenge them outright, Shiro didn't lower his stance into submission either. His fingers stayed locked around the grip of the Vanguard, ready to use it again if needed.
The weight of the weapon was strangely comforting, his body perfectly balanced, his mind already braced for another round of carnage. It made him wonder, glancing at the corpse nearby, how many times he must have taken part in something like this to be this calm about it.
He glanced beside him at Chaska. She glanced back with an inquisitive look, one that suggested she trusted him to decide what came next.
He was about to act on that when someone from the group holding guns on them shouted, "Nobody shoot!
Half-cock your piece!" The voice came from atop the tower, cutting through the wind, steady and authoritative.
"Did you not hear me? Lower the fucking gun. "
They hesitated for a fraction of a second before lowering their muskets, though their eyes never left Shiro.
A silence settled as both sides relaxed, and the owner of the voice climbed down from the tower, walked through the now-unbarricaded door, and approached them.
She was armed, carrying one of those pistols he could only picture a pirate holding, and perhaps realizing how it looked to approach with it drawn, the woman, tucked the flintlock into the back of her pants.
Mirroring her, he holstered his revolver. "Hello there," Shiro greeted first, given everything he'd just witnessed, he figured the proactive approach was warranted.
"Hello there," the woman replied. She cut a slender figure in weathered traveling leathers, a loose, off-the-shoulder white blouse paired with fitted black pants, a black tail swaying lazily behind her.
Atop her short, chin-length ebony hair, a pair of feline ears twitched, one glinting with gold earrings.
An ailuranthrope, he thought, and a flood of knowledge about the race surfaced in his mind. Whoever he used to be, he'd apparently known quite a bit about ailuranthropes, or catgirls, as the less formal but more enthusiastic crowd called them.
"Indeed," she said, her tail flicking with some expressive intent behind it, and he found himself briefly curious how her clothes accommodated it. "Never seen one before?" she asked.
"I think I might have, once," he said. He was tempted to add a light joke about her appearance but held back. Sensing something, he glanced left to find Chaska staring at him with unmistakable judgment. Did I do something wrong? He'd have argued, with conviction, that he hadn't.
"She and her friends were ready to shoot us earlier," Chaska warned him, her voice low enough that, given what he knew of ailuranthropes, the woman had probably still heard every word. "Just because she's giving you pretty eyes doesn't mean you should forget that."
"She was?" Shiro said, glancing at the woman, who very pointedly pretended not to have heard.
"Hey," Chaska scolded.
"Okay, okay, I got it. She's an untrustworthy stranger," he said, reassuring the girl who, just the day before, had been an untrustworthy stranger herself. "I'll keep my eyes peeled."
At that, the woman chuckled, then turned her attention to the two corpses lying in the distance between them.
She walked over and nudged one of the hooded bodies with her boot, clearly checking for any remaining threat, then crouched to inspect the damage with real focus, her ears pinning back in concentration.
After a moment, she looked up at him, her gaze lingering briefly before meeting his eyes, amber and bright in the darkening evening.
"We haven't introduced ourselves yet, have we?" she said, stepping closer, clearly coming to extend a hand for a shake. "I am—"
"We're travelers," Chaska cut in before Shiro could answer. "Unfortunate travelers with no interest in getting involved in whatever this is. This is between you and them. We want nothing to do with it."
Shiro glanced at Chaska, who gave him a look urging agreement. He did agree, though he wasn't sure it needed to come out quite that sharply. Then again, maybe it did.
"I'm sorry you two got dragged into this. I didn't mean for that to happen," she said, closing the distance a little further. "As a token of my regret, allow me—"
"No need. For anything. Especially not for something that'll pull us deeper into whatever this is. We'll just be on our way, right now," Chaska said again, reaching for Shiro's arm.
"Getting back on the move? What about our planned rest—"
"We won't need it," she said, already pulling him along, when she stopped, noticing the riders who'd gone off chasing the fleeing trio returning. At least one of them was.
Riding atop a vaulter, a stallion-sized lizard-like creature, the rider approached and reported, in a language different from Chaska's but one Shiro understood all the same, "We got one who fell off his vaulter, but the last one put too much distance between us.
" She delivered the report out of breath.
Like the woman she reported to, the rider was an ailuranthrope, with the same black hair, and the same face too, though hers leaned a touch more handsome where the other's leaned more toward pretty.
If Shiro had to guess, they were sisters, and given the rider's height as she dismounted, he assumed she was the older one.
That assumption was wrong, as her very next words proved.
"Big sis," she said, before shooting Shiro a look of apprehension, especially after glancing down at the two corpses near his feet.
Turning back to her sister, who paid the bodies no mind, she continued.
"Ron and Rorry kept chasing him, but unless he falls like the other one did, I don't think they'll catch him. Sorry."
"It's nothing," the older sister reassured her, though she'd clearly been biting her nails through that report.
"Anyan, what do we do?"
"Still thinking," the elder sister replied. "At his pace, how long would it take him to reach the city?"
"At his pace, and the vaulter's average endurance, by sunrise, I'd guess."
"That's half a day before reinforcements could arrive, and a day for us to pack up."
"Yes," Vanya nodded.
"Tell everyone to round up the scattered horses and vaulters and start loading the wagons. We're moving," She ordered. The younger sister nodded and headed back toward the tower to see to it, leaving the three of them alone.
"You're heading for the city, aren't you?" Anya asked the pair.
"That's—"
Before Chaska could finish, Shiro cut in. "We are. What of it?"
"I'd suggest against it. Not after what happened here. My sister tells me reinforcements are on their way," she said, the lie coming easily, "and if you set out now, there's a good chance you'll cross paths with them on the road. I'll let you imagine what kind of welcome you'd get then."
"We'll take our—"
"Hold on, Chaska. What is it you're about to suggest? Because you clearly have something in mind."
"I do," she smiled. "I'm Anya, by the way. And you?"
"Shiro."
"And you're Chaska, right?" she said, still smiling.
"Well, Shiro, Chaska, here's what I suggest. Stick with us.
It'll take a couple of hours to load everything onto the wagons, but we'll be on the road soon after.
We'll travel until we reach a good spot for you two to branch off toward the city, on an actual highway this time, which would be a lot safer than cutting straight there from here. What do you two think?"