Haladras

Twenty-two

"You are certain he is here?" said Lasseter, concern apparent in his voice. "Where did you see him?"

"I didn't see him," said Endrick, shuddering. "Brrr, I'm glad of that. I saw his ship in the hangar. There was no mistaking it. The thing looks as menacing as its master."

"Indeed," replied Lasseter, rubbing his short beard meditatively, "One of the citizens was in here earlier raving about the trackers. He claims he was stung right here in Arsolon."

"The trackers, too!"

"Did you secure a ship?"

Endrick nodded. "If you can call it a ship. But I suppose it will have to do."

"Let us pray Krom is passenger on it come the morrow."

"If he isn't," replied Endrick, "I'm eating his breakfast."

The three companions went to bed that night without word or sign from Krom. Skylar found it difficult to sleep; his mind swirled with thoughts of Morvath, the dreaded mechanical insects, and his concern for Krom. The number of his companions was dwindling. First Grim. Now Krom. Could Krom be dead, too? The possibility haunted him. Only after several hours of lying on his cot, did he finally fall into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, he awoke feeling as anxious and unrested as he had before he fell asleep. Still no sign of Krom. Silently, as if in observance of Krom's death, the three remaining companions packed their belongings, ate a hurried breakfast, and set off on foot for the port.

"It's just on the southern edge of the city," said Endrick. "We'll be there shortly."

It was news that both comforted and distressed Skylar. For at every turn he expected—he hoped—to see Krom. And at any second he expected to hear that awful buzzing of the Trackers coming after him.

They had not been walking long when Lasseter whispered from behind, "we are being followed. Increase you speed, but do not run or look back."

Endrick and Skylar obeyed these orders. Skylar's didn't think his legs could walk any faster. Yet it felt as if they were moving in slow motion. If only we all had jetwings.

"They are getting closer." warned Lasseter. "Faster."

Calves burnings, Skylar forced his legs to increase their stride. Who could be following them? Could it be Morvath? Perhaps more of his special servants? The thought chilled his bones quicker than the frosty morning air.

They rounded a corner and Skylar saw the port come into view. They could make it. It seemed within arm's reach, and yet unreachable. He wanted to run. Closer, closer they came.

Suddenly, from out of a side alley, the shapes of half-a-dozen men stepped out into the street, barring their way. Endrick moved to go around them, but the men spread out like the jaws of a trap to catch them. The companions halted.

"Kindly let us pass," said Endrick forcefully. "We have much haste this morning."

More footsteps sounded in Skylar's ear from behind. Whoever had been following the companions had caught up. They were surrounded and outnumbered severely.

"We'll let you pass just as soon as you give us what we want," said one who appeared to be their leader. "It wasn't courteous of you to snub my hospitality last night and injure my men."

Skylar started.

The man drew back his hood to reveal his face. Madrick.

The leader of thieves sneered at the companions triumphantly, his dark eyes full of malice.