The Depth of Perception

Ambush

It was cramped. Hot. Stuffy. But most importantly, it was loud—everything creaking and shaking, overpowering any other sound.

Was that the wide, clear clacking of hooves in the open air? Or the close, deadened echo of the sound bouncing from the trees? Oriana thought she would be able to tell the difference, but with all the jumbling around it had been five minutes since she had first thought maybe the quality had changed, and she still couldn't be sure.

Too early and she would be vulnerable. Too late, and she may not have been able to help at all. Waiting—not knowing—was just making her feel more cramped due to antsiness, more hot due to frustration, and more stuffy due to her breathing becoming faster and more shallow.

She couldn't take it any longer.

× × ×

A rickety cart full of assorted crates and barrels bumped down the road through the forest. The path, first worn flat by frequent travel, was now pocked and pitted by the same. The cart's contents rattled and clattered and clanked in protest of the poor road conditions, but the driver pressed on.

After a particularly large pothole, a barrel that had been rocking back and forth fell right over the side and rolled into the ditch. The thud of it hitting the ground was deafened by the dirt and trees and the racket of the other contents, not reaching the driver. He kept the cart on its course, oblivious to the sound of his precious cargo being left behind.

The sound was just loud enough to reach the back of the cart, though.

"Oriana?" another barrel inquired. When no answer was forthcoming, its top cracked open and a purple eye peered out.

Down the road, Zane could see Oriana stretching out her back beside the overturned barrel. His eye widened and he stood to his full height, hitting his head on the lid and sending it careening over the side of the cart. He hopped on one foot as he tried to step out of the barrel, and nearly toppled it over in the process.

Watching him pick his way over and around the other cargo, Oriana saw his courage falter as he stood at the edge of the cart and watched the ground slide past below him. She rolled her eyes and turned to head back the way the cart had come from, but a thump from Zane's direction caught her attention again.

Zane had landed in a surprisingly graceful crouch, the cart now pulling away into the distance. He heaved a relieved sigh before standing to his full height again, and jogged toward Oriana.

"I knew you'd do something like this," Zane complained, but the lack of fire in his voice betrayed his resignation.

Oriana turned away from him again and began to walk quickly toward the edge of the forest, not bothering to face Zane as she spoke.

"Of course you did, because I specifically told you I wouldn't hide while our friends are in danger."

"They're more safe now than they would be with you around."

"Oh yeah?" Oriana challenged.

"Yes 'yeah'. Right now, if they even get stopped, you're not with them. And none of them have done anything wrong. The Crown will not just attack them out of the blue."

"But you said Wrench is a 'known associate' of mine."

Zane pulled ahead of Oriana and stopped. He shook his head. "That doesn't mean she has broken the law. They may question her, but that would be the extent of it. Please, could we just follow the plan?"

Oriana stopped short of running into him. She considered what he said for a moment, brow furrowed, but she shook it off and a resentful determination returned to her features.