Two-Thirds Blue

Chapter One: Ruins

"Are we there yet?" Dusk asked.

The yellow light of the late afternoon filtered through the dense canopy of trees. Leaves swayed gently and cast the ground in a fluid glow. Shadows lengthened as the sun edged ever further away from its apex. High in the branches, abinxes chased squirrels and birds away from their perches. The later the hour, Dusk knew, the greater the risk of discovery.

Rade patted his shoulder. "You'll know when we get there. Not far now, I promise."

"Why not just tell him now?" Syk said.

"He's already agreed to come," Rade countered. "Plus it would ruin the surprise."

"I don't usually like surprises." Dusk stumbled as his boot caught on a tangle of ivy. "And I don't want to be out here any longer than necessary."

"What, have you got other plans?" Rade asked.

"No, I just don't want to get caught," Dusk shrugged. "What's the penalty for sneaking out again?"

"Of course you wouldn't know." Syk hopped over a shallow stream, extending an arm to help Dusk to the other side. "I believe it's suspension and cleaning duty for a week."

Rade crossed the stream on a series of protruding stones without breaking stride. "They let me off after three days. I told them it was an accident."

"Oh, right," Syk laughed. "You accidentally snuck out of a secret exit and fell asleep in a tree for six hours?"

"You haven't?"

"I didn't say that. I've just never been caught."

"You're going to get kicked out at this rate," Dusk reprimanded him.

"I doubt it," Syk said. "The way things are going, we're taking every soldier we can get."

No one spoke for several long moments, sobered by the reminder of the impending warfront and their fallen comrades.

"I'm sorry," Syk said at last. "That was thoughtless."

"How many have we lost this month so far?" Dusk said quietly.

"Twelve," Syk reminded him. "The last two were on patrol this week."

Dusk's hand automatically moved to the short sword at his hip. Its weight, nudging against him with every step, kept his duty at the forefront of his mind.

"Dax is slipping," Rade said.

Syk shrugged. "He's never been particularly efficient."

"No, I mean he's been careless. Undermanned patrols. Ignoring rozkod sightings. It's been going on for a few months."

No one was fond of the Resistance's commander. Hallen Dax was a proud man, and a skilled warrior, but infamous for his often lethal overconfidence. It was no secret that his soldiers were ill prepared for battle, but he appeared to deliberately ignore any oversight. The Resistance was a small militia by anyone's standards, but its proximity to the Mallekhan warfront would have made its soldiers a valuable advance guard if not for Dax's leadership.

Rade came to a halt. "Ah, here we are."

Dusk looked at the scene before him. Several large boulders lay piled up against the base of a squat cliff, vines and ivy cascading over them like an unusually static waterfall. It was a nice bit of scenery, Dusk decided, but hardly worth the risk of latrine duty. "Oh, good. Rocks. My favorite."

Rade shook his head. "If you like the rocks, wait until you see what's behind them. Careful, it's a bit tricky. Come on." He took the lead, unhooking his sword from his belt and easing himself between the massive blocks of mossy stone that jutted out from the overgrown soil. His wiry frame made for easy navigation of the rubble. Syk, the tallest of the three, grabbed hold of the top edge of the base rock and hoisted himself upward into a larger gap. Unhindered, he kept his sword at his side.