Chasing Sparks

Chapter 2.2

Tiel found sleep hard to come by, with the constant damp. His clothes were chafing where he least wanted them to chafe and the dampness in the ground was beginning to seep into his bones. It was odd, even though his affinity provided resistance to the cold he was pretty sure the damp had found a loophole to his defences.

That said, Tiel had been on the verge of nodding off when Medhi whispered in his ear. “It’s time. About half an hour away.”

Tiel smiled. Sar had done what he had expected. He loved being right.

Bolo and Alona were both awake looking at him. The serious expression on Bolo’s face making it very clear that the carefree camp talk of earlier was a distant memory. This was time for business.

“Places,” Tiel said, nodding at both of them. “And don’t forget to disspell any wards,” he added to Alona. He didn’t want to give Sar even the slightest hint that there was someone out here.

Tiel then took Medhi by the arm and said, “Give me an arrow.”

Medhi handed over an arrow, plucked quietly from the quiver strapped to his back. Tiel took the green vial from his pack once more and gently put a single drop of the liquid on the tip of the arrow. “For insurance,” he added.

He didn’t need to tell Medhi the next part but felt better doing so all the same. “If it looks like he isn’t going to fall in the trap, I want you to stick him with this. But give the trap a chance first, this is a last resort.”

Medhi nodded. He hadn’t needed telling. He was a woodsman born and bred. And woodsmen didn’t set a trap and then not give it every chance to spring.

Tiel watched Medhi go. He almost felt sorry for the Sar. Medhi was one efficient killing machine. Out of all the sparked affines he was the one who seemed most at ease in his role. He never complained. Was always respectful and was yet to let Tiel down. And at times, Tiel wondered if Medhi didn’t actually enjoy his work. The sign of a true professional.

Tiel disspelled his wards and then made his way to his hide. It was a small space behind a cluster of bushes, east of the track. By kneeling quietly on the ground he was able to just make out the part of the track where the trap was. It wasn’t a great view but better to be safely out of sight with a poor view than the opposite. When the trap sprung, he would not need to see it. He would hear it clearly enough.

Time crawled as Tiel sat crouched in his hole, quietly straining to see the trap through the bush. He had no idea how much time was passing but it felt like an age. Two years of chasing. Two years of hard graft. Two years of suffering, all came down to the next few minutes.

He continued to stare, looking for any sign of movement. Then he saw it, or rather he saw Sar. A tall lanky Krill striding economically down the road. He had expected to see him running but the Runner was just walking, albeit, with purpose.

However, as he closed in on the trap Sar started to walk a little more slowly, a certain level of wariness creeping into his movement.

Tiel knew what Sar was feeling. Sar’s senses were telling him something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Conscious thought was currently overruling his sixth sense, convincing him everything was fine but it wouldn’t last. It wouldn't be long before Sar started to listen and trust what his senses were telling him. 

Tiel knew then, that for whatever reason, Sar was not going to get as far as the trap. He just hoped Medhi saw this too.

The runner was about ten paces from the trap when the feeling of unease took root and he suddenly bolted. Medhi had been expecting it.