They continued their hike. During the traveling, Isa proved her competence on more than one occasion. She always found fresh water for the camp, even when he would have thought it impossible. He tried to learn how she did it, and found himself very satisfied as he learned to spot good campsites.
A few times, she ranged on ahead, then returned to lead them a different direction. Apparently, these highland hills and valleys were populated with a large number of free daerils that roved in bands. He never caught sight of them, though he and Isa did cross a few old camps and the remnants of the occasional caravan, skeletons peeking through the charred, burned-out remains.
As they left one such location, he found himself wondering about her motives. Was all of this-the care she took with the camps, the show of protecting him from roving daerils-just an act? Like her laughter had been on that first day, her wry friendliness? Could guiding him be a long-term attempt to get him to let his guard down?
Would he go to sleep one night, then never awake, killed by a hidden dagger?
Each night, he tied the bonds tightly, hating himself as he did so. Better to hate himself than to die because of another betrayal.
Siris followed Isa and the horse up the forested hillside. He was surprised the horse could make it up the steep incline; the beast seemed to have less trouble with it than he did. He had to be wary not to get too close, lest the animal drop a gift down at him. He was increasingly certain that it waited until Siris was close to do its business.
The air was hot and muggy, and the sun was veiled in a sheath of gray clouds. They were coming down out of the hills, leaving the pass behind them. If anything, the land here was even more lush than before. Enormous forests of bamboo spread like green blankets over the rolling hills. The tall, slender plants were almost like the lawn of some gigantic creature-which made Siris and Isa the insects that prowled among the blades of grass.
The Infinity Blade hung in its sheath on his back, where he’d moved it after getting it caught repeatedly in the underbrush. He no longer wore the cloak; they hadn’t passed a living soul in days.
He practically crawled the last steep distance up to the hilltop, pulling on grass slick with dew. The ground here smelled alive. If the people of Drem’s Maw knew that just across those mountains, they’d find this paradise of growth and life . . .
They wouldn’t know. They would live their lives at work, slaving as they hung from the roof of their cavern and cut the fast-growing stalactites, delivering the minerals to the God King as tribute. Siris reached the top of the hill and stood up tall, taking a deep breath of the misty air. If he could get the weapon to the Worker of Secrets, would that start something that truly brought freedom to his people?
It was an oddly daunting thought. Though the God King still lived, Siris had defeated him in a fair duel. He didn’t believe that he’d won by accident, or that the God King had allowed it. He had enough dueling experience to know when someone gave their all.
That victory, however small, left him wondering. Could they all be defeated? Could his people actually be freed? He reached over his shoulder, touching the hilt of the Infinity Blade.
Isa stood atop the hill, looking up to the right, toward one of the lower peaks in the mountain range. She seemed thoughtful.
“What?” he asked.
“The rebirthing chamber I told you about,” she said, sounding distracted. “It’s up there. On the slopes of that peak. I stumbled upon it by accident. I was lost . . .”
“I thought you couldn’t get lost,” he said, smiling.
She didn’t hear the humor in his voice. “I can’t now. But I still could, back then.” She shook her head, then continued on her way down the slope.
Siris joined her, walking beside her, rather than in his customary place behind. She eyed him at the irregularity, but he was tired of watching that animal’s backend. The thing was demonspawn for certain.
“How much farther?” he asked.
“A little over a day,” she said. “Then we’ll have to decide if you try to sneak in or challenge the guardians.”
“Sneak?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Have you heard me in my armor?”
She nodded. “I just . . .”
“What?”
“It’s so odd, the way you people do things. Stepping right up, announcing you want to fight, going into it.”
“It’s the path of honor and civilization.”
“I wonder if that’s one of the ways the Deathless keep you in line,” Isa said. She was so subdued. Professional, quiet-not cold, but giving up no more than she had to. He missed the way she’d been on that first day.
“Keep us in line?”
“Sure. They convince everyone that it’s ‘honorable’ to fight one on one, formally. That way, when we rise up, we do it with loud declarations and challenges. It gives them more time to prepare.”
Siris pushed a bamboo branch out of the way, frowning. He didn’t like the idea that honor, like everything else, might have become just another tool for the Deathless. There had to be some things that were beyond their touch, didn’t there?
“Watch your step,” Isa said.
He paused, then looked to the side. The ground here had grown rocky, and was broken by cracks, each about as long as his leg. There was a pungent scent to the air and, Siris realized with surprise, heat was rising from the cracks.
“They’re all over the place out here,” Isa said. “You have to watch yourself around pools of water; some of them grow so hot, they can boil you faster than you can scream for help.”
Siris shivered, stepping away from the cracks. They continued on their way in silence for a few minutes, before Siris finally found himself asking something he’d been wondering for a while. “Isa, why do you want the Infinity Blade? Really?”
She kept walking.
“You talk about humankind fighting back,” he said. “A moment ago, you used the word ‘we.’ Half the time, you act like a freedom fighter. The other half, you act like an opportunist trying to make off with whatever wealth you can get. Which is the truth and which the mask?”
“You, with good reason, don’t trust me not to kill you in your sleep.”
“What kind of answer is that?”
“The preemptive kind. If you don’t trust me not to kill you, why would you trust any answer I give about my true motivations?”
She has a point, he thought. “Well, maybe I’m just tired of walking in silence.”
“Please tell me that doesn’t mean you’re going to start singing.”
“I happen to have a very good voice,” he said with a huff.
She cracked just a hint of a smile. After a few moments of walking through the bamboo-they were following some kind of game trail-she spoke. “Maybe I don’t know which one I am. Maybe part of me thinks we should fight back, but the rest of me thinks there’s no point. There’s no real way to stop them, so why try? Why not just take care of myself, you know?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I do know.” He stopped himself from asking the next question. And that’s why you betrayed me?
Isa started to slow.
“What?”
“This path,” she said, kneeling down and inspecting the ground. “It’s getting too wide, too regular.”
“Someone else uses it?”
“Maybe,” she said. “We’ve come to the area where villages are more common, and we just intersected with the outflow from one of the more well-traveled passes.” She stood up, then handed him the reins of the horse.
He took them, and she pushed away through the bamboo. He hesitated, then tied the horse off and followed. She raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t send him back. They made their way toward a higher elevation, where the bamboo was thinner.
He joined her atop the rise, scanning the valley before them. It didn’t look like anything special. A wide, but shallow stream ran through the middle of it, and there were some hills along one side.