Gods of Garran

The Gods of Garran: Chapter 23

A novel by Meredith Skye

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Sindke led the group away from the city of Koshke, heading northeast towards Drealea. To the west and south lay the Desert of Desolation and none of them wanted to enter that wasteland.

Asta rode ahead to Sindke. "Where will we go?" Asta asked.

"I don't know," answered Sindke. "Where are the god-stones?"

Surely the woman didn't think Asta knew. Asta shook her head. "I don't know."

"Is it in the Hands of the Gods?" asked Sindke, meaning the mountain Asta had been to.

"No," Asta said, without stopping to think. She didn't know why she was so sure. Sindke smiled.

"We'll head for Hobset. Skirt the northern side of the Stony Dunes and avoid Rhashan. Once we get to Sonthhe, the Dead Knolls are to the south and the road there is less difficult."

Asta nodded. She'd never been this far out. All she knew of this land were the maps she'd memorized. Though being here in person was a different thing all together. It was hard to match up the map in her mind with what she saw in the desert. At best, she recognized only a few major landmarks on the horizon. And distances were hard to gauge.

As they traveled, Asta saw the tacha skulking about behind shrubs and rocks as they passed by. The small humanoids ran away in fear.

That evening they stopped for camp as it got dark. Molot's two cousins and Rouvidinn set up the camp. Molot began cooking. He was fond of food and had appointed himself as cook, for which Asta was glad. She liked Molot's cooking. Asta gathered that his skills as a fighter were not as great as his skill for talking.

Jarvaine, though a fighter, seemed richer than some of the others, like Molot. Instead of coarse, ragged cloth that many Garrans wore, he wore a leather vest and pants, some of it imprinted with the iconic head of a fanged sechule, poised to pounce. A pattern of purple and red trim decorated the leather's edges. Jarvaine must have more status in his clan, as he didn't offer to do any of the work. Instead he came over and spoke with Asta.

"How did you like Noloon?" he asked. "How did you find the weather there?"

"I have not been to Noloon in many years," countered Asta, "I have not thought of it much." Her heart beat quicker. He was testing her. This is what Asta had feared—someone who could prove her story false.

"I've heard that Chief Foknach has fallen ill. That's unfortunate."

Asta had no idea who was chief in Noloon as she had never been there before—and never really wanted to go. "My mother moved from there when I was young. I have no news of them."

Jarvaine studied her carefully. She hoped he wouldn't notice how Chanden some of her features were.

"Odd that you never go there. Surely you have family there?" asked Jarvaine. He was baiting her.

"None. They've all moved away. Don't tell me you find that odd?" she said. Noloon was very small and remote. It was no great place to be—she knew that much. Jarvaine grinned at this. Asta left him.

Molot, pleased when she turned up at the firepit, quickly launched into a long and complicated story about his brother's uncle's lost eke herd.

After dinner, Asta settled down to sleep. Jarvaine had stopped questioning her but she felt that he was not yet satisfied with her answers. She would have to be careful with him.

They were now northeast of the Eye of Innurlan. They had entered the Desert of Desolation in order to skirt the city of Drealea. Many Garrans lived there, but it was a Chanden outpost and the group was determined to avoid them, even if it meant entering Desolation. Sleep came slowly to Asta, as she had many things on her mind.