Shouts echoed through the city gates. Tallis risked trotting forward and peeking through. A host citizens were screaming at a squad of detectives. Things were about to turn ugly.
“Should we step in?” Tallis asked.
Aragam patted a leather box pouch strapped to his waist. “How many bullets do you have left?”
Tallis ran a hand over his gun belt, feeling the empty loops. There were no bullets left. He eased the revolver open and the shells sprang free. He threw away the empty casings. “I have four.”
Aragam leaned around the gate. “I have three. Let’s leave these guys to duke it out, yeah? And we’ll slip around the outside of the walls.”
The detectives fell back, beating a hasty retreat towards the station.
“Good,” Aragam continued. He slipped into the thin brush pushing up against the walls and started walking. “Can’t really blame them can you, eh? I imagine there will be hell to pay later though, yeah?”
“I can imagine,” said Tallis with a shrug. “I feel bad for them. Poor bastards.”
“Sadly, nothing we can do for them. Not now anyway. We need to keep focus, right?”
Tallis nodded. One more job. That was something he could get behind. “Right. Gods, I just hope Dad is okay.”
“Anyone with the balls to jump off a wagon into a fistfight like that should be just fine. Any idea where he might go?”
“He wouldn’t stay in the city that’s for sure.” Growing up, Tallis had few memories of Edward spending any time indoors. “I think he’d run for the trees.”
“At least that narrows it down some.” Aragam gestured to the green expanse of thick woods surrounding the city. “Anywhere in particular he’d run to?”
Tallis nodded. “Yeah, I think I have a place in mind.”
They pressed on, slipping past the city and into the green embrace of the forest. Aragam kept his eyes on the ground as they moved, stopping occasionally to inspect a broken branch or a patch of mud. "Your father doesn't have a limp by any chance, does he?"
"He does." Tallis nodded. "A giant broke his leg when he was younger and I don't think it ever quite healed right."
"Sure," said Aragam with a sour hint of sarcasm in his voice. "And I was raised by dragons."
"It's true," Tallis snapped, regretting it instantly. He hadn't meant to sound so angry but the battle in the police station had left him feeling like every nerve in his body had been scraped raw and left open to the cold. With the adrenaline gone, he was freezing and shaking and irritable. all he wanted was to lie down and sleep for a month, but there wasn't time for that now.
There was still one more job to do.
"If that's true," said Aragam with a chuckle. "It would explain a lot."
"I'm sorry," said Tallis with a sigh. Gods he just wanted this mess to be over with. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
"Water under the bridge, yeah? Before this I was a chef in one of the biggest restaurants this side of the Iron Sea. Before that I served a stint in the army, before they got all picky about letting Changelings into the service. So you have to believe me when I say I've heard worse. I've had drill sergeants screaming in face, head chefs calling me donkey and donut and dumbass and every name in the book. So, I am not going to get my knickers in a twist over one little snap. We all get a little raw and jittery once the action stops, okay? It's fine."
YOU ARE READING
Faerunners
FantasyIt is the turn of the century and night is falling on the last days of the old west. The wild years of settling the frontier with a rifle in one hand and a spell book in the other are at an end. But the magicians of the Old West are not going down w...