The Webbing Blade

ON CAPITAL ROAD

THEY BROKE CAMP soon after daybreak. Lou felt his heart sink down to his gut as they headed up the hill, back to the main road. He felt his muscles twitching with his sleepless night, and his mouth still tasted of the blood of those cursed bears. He tried to wash it all away with several mouthfuls of water, but to no avail. Even the fresh morning air didn’t offer much in the way of rejuvenation. He listened to the trudge of the boots of their group of survivors, to the rustle of their clothing as they all made their way along.

He stayed at the side of the horse carrying Syre, leading it by the reins. He clasped those leather straps tight in his hand, telling himself that no matter what happened there was no chance that he would let go.

About as much chance of him letting go as of her letting go of that book she clutched to her chest.

Sully led the front of the group, and Lou could see him at the front, leading their snaking procession. Rut brought up the rear. Looking back, Lou noticed that Rut kept glancing back over his shoulder, as if there might be some cursed bear about to sneak up on them—as if the cursed animals might’ve changed their mind about coming out in the daytime.

Still, Lou had to admit to himself that he did feel a little on edge about it, even if he did tell himself that he’d exorcised the fear about the whole thing.

Now he knew he could kill.

And under duress.

They made Capital Road soon enough, just after midday. Lou felt the sturdy bricks beneath his feet, and he thought about how this road had all been possible thanks to the corn they’d picked out in the fields, all those yields they’d brought in, it was all wrapped up in this fine work. And, in a way, they were walking across all those yields from down all those years.

For the first time, Lou really saw the results, first hand, of that ‘good, honest work’ all the working hands chatted about.

Sully drove them on at a brisk pace, for obvious reasons wanting to get them to the outskirts before the sun came down, to where the city barricades began. Once they got inside the barricades, Lou was sure that they’d be safe.

From what he’d pieced together from what he’d heard off other working hands, the guards that held the barricades controlled the entry and exit, flushed out the cursed animals using a series of complicated gating systems.

In fact, despite everything else that had happened to them, Lou couldn’t help being a little excited about going to Ilsnare.

It only served to make him sombre, to make him want to curl up into a ball and weep, to think that this opportunity had cost him his ma and pa.

But he couldn’t indulge his emotions any longer.

Now he was a skuller.

While they’d been on the trail, Sully had pretty much had them stopping every couple of hours or so, so that they could all get in some rest, take on some water, away from the relentless slog onwards.

But, as the sun dipped on the horizon, there was no sign of Sully so much as breaking his pace. Then again, as Lou looked around, he saw that most of their group looked apprehensive, their faces sketched with worry lines, lips pressed together tightly, and Lou knew that they had to make the barricades before sundown just to put everyone’s mind at rest.

As Lou trudged onwards, leading the reins of Syre’s horse, something in the distance caught his eye. It was a sparkle, what could only be the reflection of the harsh sunlight. And in that second he knew that he was seeing a glass spire. The first hint of The Crystal City.

His heart jigged up to his throat, and before he got a hold on his excitement, he called out and pointed, and soon enough the whole group of their survivors were staring in that direction.