Thayloryn Tuth's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Thayloryn Tuth counted six wagons at the tree line and knew she had run out of days. The slavers had swept the frontier for a week, taking any child no one would come looking for. Those were the children she meant to save. She had picked a valley two ridges south where she would teach orphans how to move without being seen, how to throw a blade without counting, how to survive the way she had survived. She could not build that place if the students were already chained. She watched from the low roof of the Edgewatch Inn, flat against the thatch. Thessameth Weth lay beside her with his repeating crossbow across his forearms. He was half a step slower than her in a fight, so they had learned to work opposite angles. Below, a broad dwarf in a fur-collared coat walked the line of wagons with a ledger. Gretch Sludgewick. He owned the caravan and the guards and the locks. Eleven children sat roped together on the last cart. Thayloryn recognized two from the alley behind the kitchens. "Front and back," Thessameth said. "I take the drivers. You take the locks." She nodded. She slid off the roof into the stable shadow and waited. Stillness was the skill she trusted most. When the cook shouted about a fire in the woodshed, the guards turned, and she moved. She threw knives as she ran, not counting, keeping the one in her left inner pocket where it belonged. Two guards dropped before they saw her. Thessameth's bolts took the drivers off the benches. She cut the rope on the last cart and told the children to run for the trees. Gretch came around the wagon with a short axe and swung for her ribs. She stepped inside the swing, put her shoulder under his arm, and buried a blade in the soft place above his belt. He folded against the wheel and did not get up. Eight children reached the trees. Three did not. One boy took a bolt meant for a guard and died before she reached him. A girl ran the wrong way and a rider caught her before Thessameth could reload. The last child, a small one with a shaved head, stared at Thayloryn from the cart and would not move, and by the time Thayloryn cut her loose the second wagon of guards was on them, and she had to carry the girl out over her shoulder while Thessameth covered the road. In the woods, after, she counted the ones she had saved and the ones she had not. Eight was not enough and was also everything. She had a valley to reach before dawn, and now she had children who would be hunted for the rest of the season.