Andromeda's War (Legion of the Damned Book 3) by William C. Dietz Page B

her, and the light had begun to fade.
    The next half hour was spent locating a spot where a ridge of rock offered protection from the south, and the company could laager up around a well-established fire pit. It was a regular stop then . . . A place where north- and southbound caravans paused to eat and grab some sleep.
    Once the company’s defenses were complete, McKee asked Jivani to accompany her on a full circuit of the perimeter. It was dark by then, and a scattering of fires lit the campground. McKee paused to speak with each group. She was wearing a translator but knew Jivani would pick up on the sort of subtleties that a machine couldn’t.
    The Naa preferred to camp upwind of the Humans, whom they privately referred to as “stinks” or “slick skins.” Something not lost on the Human bio bods, who routinely called the Naa “digs” and “fur balls.” It was a schism that McKee hoped to bridge.
    Once the tour was over, McKee told Jivani to get some chow and went looking for Storytell. McKee found the guide crouched in front of a small blaze, with Sureshot sitting across from him. That was both annoying and potentially dangerous since she didn’t trust either one of them. But if the Naa were plotting against her, there was no sign of it as Sureshot rose to introduce her. “This is Lieutenant McKee . . . My people call her Nofear Deathgiver.”
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Storytell said as he stood. “I heard the story of Doothdown from a northerner named Quickword Spellbind. It’s a wonderful tale, and I was hard-pressed to offer a story of equal value in return.”
    McKee accepted the forearm-to-forearm grip and was thankful for it. It was nice to know that Storytell was willing to take her seriously. “Thank you. I’m glad you came through the fight unharmed.”
    “They killed my dooth,” Storytell said sadly. “I will miss her.”
    “We captured two of their animals,” Sureshot put in. “You can take your pick.”
    “Thank you,” Storytell said. “No offense . . . But why is that thing watching us?”
    The Naa pointed, and McKee turned to see that Andy was staring at them from the edge of the firelight. Recording? Yes, probably. “Ignore it,” McKee said, as she turned back. “It was sent to document the mission.”
    “If you say so,” Storytell said doubtfully, and sat down. The other two joined him, and it was a chance for McKee to tuck into one of the MREs that a private dropped off. Sureshot opened his. But Storytell preferred to carve slices off a chunk of jerky. “So,” she began. “You know why we’re here?”
    “To find Truthsayer,” Storytell replied.
    “And how do you feel about that?”
    Light flashed off steel as Storytell carved another slice of meat. “My father was from the north . . . And my mother was from the south. We were
Noogin
. Wanderers. So while I have no reason to hate Truthsayer—I have no reason to love him, either.”
    That was a good thing if true, and McKee paused to eat some stew before asking the most critical question. “So, where is he?”
    Storytell eyed her across the fire. “I can tell you where he was—but only the gods know where he
is
. Eighty-one days ago, he was in the City of Pillars. My cousin saw him there. But he could be anywhere by now.”
    McKee tried to do the math in her head. If she was correct, eighty-one local days were equivalent to something like nine standard days. So Storytell was correct. By the time the column entered the City of Pillars,
if
they were allowed to enter the City of Pillars, the chief of chiefs could be long gone. But what choice did she have? Even if Truthsayer had left she might be able to pick up his trail or figure out a way to contact him. But first she had to get there. “Tell me about Graveyard Pass.”
    Storytell shrugged. “Travelers must pay to pass through it. That’s the way it has always been. I don’t know Hardhand Bigclub. Maybe he would allow you to pass through