cost.
***
(Dev)
The storm’s fury raged outside the open end of our tarp. No rain, but we got near-constant lightning mixed with the occasional violent burst of hail. The clouds were thick and dark enough to give the scene the look of late twilight, even though another few hours remained in the day. The cracks of thunder sent booming echoes rolling through the canyon. I kept an eye on the canyon’s opposite wall, watching for rockfall.
Beside me, Kiran sat hunched up in a ball, his head down in his arms so only a shock of brown-dyed hair showed. He’d been skittish as a kicked colt before the storm hit, although he’d tried to hide it. And when I’d pulled him under the tarp, his arm muscles beneath my hand had felt tight as guy ropes. He hadn’t said a word, only curled up tight as a snail on the blankets.
As a searing flash lit the world outside, I noticed he was trembling. Huh. I had seen little kids and animals afraid of thunder, but never an adult, young or otherwise. But then, I’d once met an outrider terrified of the harmless little whiptail lizards that liked to sun themselves on courtyard walls in Ninavel. He’d told me he knew it was crazy, but he just couldn’t help it.
Maybe Kiran was the same; or maybe it was yet another piece of the puzzle. I wished I could start fitting pieces together, but so far nothing about him or the job made much sense. What really confused me was Kiran’s obvious inexperience in shadow dealings. Unless this was only a practice run—maybe his superiors weren’t sure a person could be safely smuggled through the border, and wanted some evidence of success before putting their real plan into motion. But if they wanted to send someone expendable on this run, why a highsider? Why not some streetsider eager for coin and safely ignorant of highsider business? Then again, given Bren’s instructions, maybe somebody back in Ninavel wanted Kiran gone and didn’t much care if he ended up truth-spelled and spilling his secrets to angry Alathians.
A wide bolt of lightning struck a pinnacle jutting like a broken finger from the ridge across the canyon, in a stuttering flash so bright it left glaring afterimages printed on my vision. Thunder exploded, and Kiran flinched violently. He made a choked noise loud enough for me to hear over the echoes, but didn’t raise his head.
A puff of vaporized rock rose from the pinnacle, and a shower of enormous boulders tumbled down the cliff face, sending up an even larger cloud of rock dust. A sharp, flinty smell filled the air. I coughed, trying to get the scent out of my mouth and nose before it brought up memories I didn’t want to think about. Just as well Kiran hadn’t seen the rockfall happen. If the storm scared him now, I’d hate to see his reaction if he realized we were easy targets for any rockfall from the cliffs on our side of the canyon. I grinned sourly to myself at the thought as the rocks smashed into the talus slopes at the base of the cliffs. The grinding roar of the collision mixed with yet more thunder.
Gradually, the storm moved off eastward, taking the light show with it. We got one more shower of hail that made the horses fling their heads and snort in protest despite Harken’s calming charms, but after that the clouds started to break up. Cautiously, I poked my head outside the tarp. The sun had sunk behind the peaks during the storm, and the western ridgelines stood out clear and sharp against a rose-colored sky.
The city wasn’t visible anymore, thanks to the twists and turns of Silverlode Canyon, but the eastern sky was a sullen black. Continual flashes lit up the clouds, accompanied by the distant growl of thunder. The cityfolk would get a real show tonight. That was by far the most powerful storm I’d ever seen this early in the season. Usually storms didn’t get anywhere near this bad until the heat of late summer. Of course, any outrider knows the mountains can always catch you by surprise.
I ducked
***
(Dev)
The storm’s fury raged outside the open end of our tarp. No rain, but we got near-constant lightning mixed with the occasional violent burst of hail. The clouds were thick and dark enough to give the scene the look of late twilight, even though another few hours remained in the day. The cracks of thunder sent booming echoes rolling through the canyon. I kept an eye on the canyon’s opposite wall, watching for rockfall.
Beside me, Kiran sat hunched up in a ball, his head down in his arms so only a shock of brown-dyed hair showed. He’d been skittish as a kicked colt before the storm hit, although he’d tried to hide it. And when I’d pulled him under the tarp, his arm muscles beneath my hand had felt tight as guy ropes. He hadn’t said a word, only curled up tight as a snail on the blankets.
As a searing flash lit the world outside, I noticed he was trembling. Huh. I had seen little kids and animals afraid of thunder, but never an adult, young or otherwise. But then, I’d once met an outrider terrified of the harmless little whiptail lizards that liked to sun themselves on courtyard walls in Ninavel. He’d told me he knew it was crazy, but he just couldn’t help it.
Maybe Kiran was the same; or maybe it was yet another piece of the puzzle. I wished I could start fitting pieces together, but so far nothing about him or the job made much sense. What really confused me was Kiran’s obvious inexperience in shadow dealings. Unless this was only a practice run—maybe his superiors weren’t sure a person could be safely smuggled through the border, and wanted some evidence of success before putting their real plan into motion. But if they wanted to send someone expendable on this run, why a highsider? Why not some streetsider eager for coin and safely ignorant of highsider business? Then again, given Bren’s instructions, maybe somebody back in Ninavel wanted Kiran gone and didn’t much care if he ended up truth-spelled and spilling his secrets to angry Alathians.
A wide bolt of lightning struck a pinnacle jutting like a broken finger from the ridge across the canyon, in a stuttering flash so bright it left glaring afterimages printed on my vision. Thunder exploded, and Kiran flinched violently. He made a choked noise loud enough for me to hear over the echoes, but didn’t raise his head.
A puff of vaporized rock rose from the pinnacle, and a shower of enormous boulders tumbled down the cliff face, sending up an even larger cloud of rock dust. A sharp, flinty smell filled the air. I coughed, trying to get the scent out of my mouth and nose before it brought up memories I didn’t want to think about. Just as well Kiran hadn’t seen the rockfall happen. If the storm scared him now, I’d hate to see his reaction if he realized we were easy targets for any rockfall from the cliffs on our side of the canyon. I grinned sourly to myself at the thought as the rocks smashed into the talus slopes at the base of the cliffs. The grinding roar of the collision mixed with yet more thunder.
Gradually, the storm moved off eastward, taking the light show with it. We got one more shower of hail that made the horses fling their heads and snort in protest despite Harken’s calming charms, but after that the clouds started to break up. Cautiously, I poked my head outside the tarp. The sun had sunk behind the peaks during the storm, and the western ridgelines stood out clear and sharp against a rose-colored sky.
The city wasn’t visible anymore, thanks to the twists and turns of Silverlode Canyon, but the eastern sky was a sullen black. Continual flashes lit up the clouds, accompanied by the distant growl of thunder. The cityfolk would get a real show tonight. That was by far the most powerful storm I’d ever seen this early in the season. Usually storms didn’t get anywhere near this bad until the heat of late summer. Of course, any outrider knows the mountains can always catch you by surprise.
I ducked
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