Song of Ashes

10: Eagle's Rock

The donkey having raised no objection, they struck out.

Sarka had no real concept of where Gold Eagle's Roost lay in relation to the rest of the world. She had not been born until after the Cataclysm, when ravel had become dangerous and people had stopped venturing far beyond their homes. She knew only that a town called Eagle's Rock lay to the north. Beyond that, although she had no idea how far beyond, was the shore. The shore would give way to the ocean, and the ocean would give way to other nations and other prospects.

Much of what civilization had built had been destroyed when the goddess Kogoren had rained down her vengeance upon her people. Roads had fallen into disrepair and had been slowly erased up by the windswept desert. But all was not lost: the Cataclysm had not interfered with the map of the night sky. Kogoren's Eye, the brightest of the stars, shone through the veil of dust that lay over the land, and Sarka followed the star to the north.

Her journey was long, thirsty, and without adventure. For three days she walked, pulling the donkey behind her. She passed two burned-out settlements empty of anything but burned-out buildings and ghosts. She ate jerky and dried vegetables, and the stolid donkey subsisted on ugly clumps of dry grass that sprang stubbornly out of the inhospitable terrain.

Sarka knew she and Donkey-Meat were in dire straits by the middle of the third day. One of their canteens was empty, and when she shook the second, it sounded dismally hollow. As she licked her parched lips and resolved to wait longer for a drink, she realized how ill-prepared she had been for her journey.

But turning back was not an option.

Just as the frail moon dropped toward the horizon that third night, Sarka crested a hill and saw a settlement in the distance. It was nothing but a dark splotch on the horizon, but, seeing that splotch, she felt a desperate hope. Could this be Eagle's Rock? Had she finished the first leg of her journey?

For the first time, Sarka felt vulnerable; she was on her own, and she did not know what kind of welcome she would encounter here, so she approached the town with caution. It looked much the same as Gold Eagle's Roost. Many of the buildings were dilapidated; some had been ruined in the destruction of more than two decades past and had never been repaired. She could see no people, but a golden glow in the windows of a large building some distance up the gray stretch of road told her that the place was inhabited.

As Sarka headed toward the light, a tall, broad-shouldered figure materialized out of nowhere, interrupting her path. The figure wore goggles and a long, winding scarf that completely obscured its face; it held a spear leveled at Sarka's midsection.

"Who are you?" The deep, masculine voice was suspicious, but not aggressive.

"My name is Sarka."

"What business have you in Eagle's Rock?" He did not move his head, but Sarka could feel his gaze working over her, assessing how much of a threat she might be.

"I am headed to the north. To the coast. I'll be gone come morning, if I can get some supplies. I can trade for work."

"Are you an ash-walker?"

"No."

"What, then?"

"A seamstress." Sarka indicated her bag with a nod of her head, although her eyes did not stray from the spear he carried.

The man reached up and pulled his scarf down, revealing his nose and lips. "Come and get out of the cold, girl. We gather in the commune." He whistled; from somewhere nearby came an answering whistle. When he heard it, the man turned to lead the way into Eagle's Rock, and Sarka followed.