Diaspor Aspenwind's Arc

Chapter 15 of 18

Diaspor walked out of the council hall with the brand still hot under his shirt. The guards did not follow. The swarm rose from the canopy and trailed him at a height, a low cloud that moved when he moved. He kept to the road for an hour, then left it when the first traveler crossing the other way saw the cloud and turned back. He cut into the trees. The mark on his chest pulled at the cloth with every step. By midday he had eaten the last of his bread and drunk the last of his water, and the swarm had killed nothing he could touch without claiming it as theirs. He found a trading post by a bend in the path. White boards, gold trim, lavender at the windows. A green door stood half open. He stopped at the edge of the yard and lifted his hand to the swarm. They climbed higher and went quiet in the branches above the roof. He crossed the yard with his palms open and the gold wheel pendant tucked deep in his coat. A tall fae in a gray cloak stepped out before he reached the steps. She did not speak. She crossed her arms and looked at his chest, where the brand showed through the thin cloth. Her eyes moved up to the trees and back to him. A second fae came around the corner of the building, small and round, mouth set, and planted himself in front of the door. He pointed at the road behind Diaspor and held the point until Diaspor lowered his eyes. "Water," Diaspor said. "I will pay. I will not come inside." The tall one shook her head once. "The brand carries. The swarm carries. You bring both to my door." She uncrossed her arms only to gesture at the path. "Go. We will not sell to you. No house on this road will." The small fae did not move from the door. Diaspor set a coin on the lowest step anyway, because he had said he would pay, and turned back to the road. Further on, at a fork where three stones leaned together, a thin fae in red waited with one finger raised. Wings like burnt paper. Antlers of dead wood. He pointed down the lesser path, the one that ran east into open country, away from the villages. Diaspor stopped. The fae did not lower his hand. Behind him, half hidden in the brush, two more watched without moving. Diaspor took the path he was pointed to. The swarm shifted in the trees and followed. He walked until the sun dropped and the road thinned to a track. He had no water, no bread, no roof. He had the swarm, the brand, and a direction chosen by someone else. He sat down where the track ended at a dry creek and pulled the gold wheel pendant from his coat. The hum in the trees answered the moment he touched it. He would have to feed them soon, or learn what they did when he did not.