The Survivor - Veil Walkers Book One

Chapter Seven

Borneo, 954 CE - Sumiko

FROM where she leaned against a pavilion support pole, Sumiko glanced to her right as Astrid rejoined the group, then turned her gaze toward the docks without acknowledgement.

"There's nothing beyond this town," Astrid said as she settled on the hard-packed dirt, drawing a knee to her chest. "A couple rows of huts to the east of this primary avenue, then rainforest. There is a small path parallel to the beach that leads into the forest, but I couldn't investigate without a light."

"But nothing explained that obnoxious feeling of being watched?" Irem asked. She sat on the bench to one side and behind Sumiko, fidgeting.

"Nothing," Astrid replied. "It doesn't have any source I can find."

Sumiko frowned and returned her attention to the docks where the newly moored ship unloaded its cargo. The sun had sunk to where darkness threatened, and a boy wandered through the market lighting lamps. It seemed this village never slept.

Beyond the darkness, past the ship and out to sea, the perfect red sunset touched the horizon. The sunrise would doubtless be spectacular, but she hoped she wouldn't be here to see it. They weren't prepared for an overnight mission, and she hated sleeping on the ground.

"The pavilion is for paying customers only," a man's voice interrupted her thoughts. He spoke to the newly returned Astrid, as he had earlier done to her and Irem.

"She's with us," Sumiko answered.

The man looked at the trio and frowned. "You should get something more to eat than a bit of fruit, you know. Not that it's any of my business, but if you're going to walk with the other evening ladies, you'll need more than a loquat to keep your energy up."

Sumiko glared, partially at the man, and partially at the subtle movement she saw Irem make.

The man raised both hands to pacify them. "I don't mean any offense. We cater to all professions here, but your biggest customer base just moored. You'll want to join the others if you want paid tonight, but I still wouldn't go on an empty stomach."

"Our stomachs are full enough for our tasks," Irem pursed her lips as she flowed back into her seat. "We would thank you to leave us be."

Sumiko struggled to summon her patience as the man made a noise of frustration while departing. The others may have full bellies, but she had barely eaten. She always picked at her food when she felt a migraine coming. The loquat had helped some, but had been paid for through nefarious deeds.

As the rude man faded into the crowd, Irem tossed a coin in Sumiko's direction. "That was the last one in his pocket, so spend it wisely."

Pickpocketing was a wonderful skill to have, and she wondered how Irem had managed with only one hand. She made a mental note to ask for lessons sometime.

Although an excellent teacher, the Persian princess hadn't seen battle since the day Caye died. Ming Yue had sidelined her 'until her hand healed,' a day which, according to the elder, simply never came. Before the incident, Irem had been a capable warrior, a clever spy, and a cunning thief.

Today, the injured Namid would have been the better choice. After eighty-four years of training new recruits, mending costumes, and cooking meals, had Irem's battle instincts dulled? When the time came, would she be a hindrance? The cause of the next disaster?

Sumiko caught the coin and glanced at Irem. Nothing about the situation felt right. A code three didn't take this much time to locate, even in these conditions. They had searched all and sundry, eavesdropped on conversations, scoured the market, and even questioned children, but still hadn't sighted their quarry.