Hierarchy (Book Four of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Eleven: High Standing, Pt 1

Halemeda awoke in darkness, and anger sparked. She realized quickly that it was not so complete or containing as her previous cell. Her gaze showed her that she was in a wagon, bumping down a road. Sitting up, she found herself free of restraints.

A smiling, boyish face sat across from her. He had ashy brown hair, cut so short it convinced her that it had once been shaved. He wore crimson armor, a fluted helm tucked to his side. Before she could ask questions, the young soul offered her a canteen.

She looked at it reproachfully.

"Just water, this time." The guard smiled. "I didn't mean to keep details from you but, the effects of that potion are unpleasant."

Understanding dawned on Halemeda, and she looked incredulously at the guard. "The effects of death itself, but feigned with magic."

The guard nodded and left her with a few moments to organize her thoughts.

Halemeda wiggled her fingers and her toes, scrunched up her face and took several deep breaths. How in the name of all the gods, had she gotten out? Had she been kind to an angel, once? Helped someone enough to garner a return of kindness from the universe?

"That was a rousing speech you gave, headmistress." The young man's eyes were expressive.

"Not that it did any good," she said. She stared at him. He had a familiar look to him, as if she had met him before. "Who are you?"

"I'm Guran," the guard said. "Advara was my brother. Older brother."

Halemeda swallowed.

"He didn't make it," Guran said. "I know."

"And you still want to help me?" Halemeda's brows met over her nose.

"My brother told me often how much you gave him. How much you gave to all your students. I only got into the army, because of a recommendation you gave to him." Guran's smile was sad, his eyes far off.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

"Me too." Guran waved a hand to dismiss the topic. "I was to give you these, headmistress. And to say we can take you as far as the crossroads, if you'd like." He handed her a backpack.

Halemeda drank the water like it was the finest wine she had ever tasted and wiped her mouth as delicately as she could. Inside the pack, she found several things. Enchanted rings, socks, and a clean change of clothes. Along with her spell book, and a few other oddities from the Tower that she had kept close to her heart. "Gimery?" she asked.

Guran nodded.

"Does he live? What about the students? Did anyone preserve the scrolls, or are they lost to that bastard tyrant?" Halemeda chewed her lip and realized she was starving.

Guran laughed and held up a hand. "Gimery lives, though I can say nothing more on the matter, as I don't know where he is, or will be. As far as survivors from the atrocity of the Tower, there are some. But I know not where they ran to, or how they now fare. And as for your scrolls, I do not know." He shrugged.

A thousand questions slammed into Halemeda like a smiths hammer meeting an anvil. She asked Guran as much as she could, and he answered, though it felt to her as if little of it was good news. The wagon bumped along, and Halemeda took the time to change her clothes, and compose herself. Guran, in a gentlemanly fashion, averted his gaze while she did so. After a few hours, the wagon slowed to a stop. The road had split, and led in two directions.

Guran sighed and helped her out of the wagon. With nothing but the backpack, she felt quite naked, standing on the snowdrift. Guran took a heavy cloak from the wagon, and held it out to her. It was wool and leather, thick and meant for traveling. But it was hideous.