Encrypted

  He froze, mid-chew. “How do you know—how much do you know?”

  “I know they tried to kill me so I couldn’t help your people translate that unknown language.”

  “I suppose it’s possible the Nurians have done...something. I can’t think of anything natural that would explain this sudden aggressiveness.”

  The scuffles were dying down. Men’s ragged breaths frosted the air. A couple marines still struggled against those restraining them, while others seemed embarrassed. Blood flowed from broken noses and split lips.

  “Bones, come patch people up.” Commander Okars did not appear wounded, but his eyes had a wild cast to them. “And tell me what’s going on.”

  “No idea.”

  “No idea? Grandmother Hakstor was a better sawbones than you. For spit’s sake, get your ass over here and figure this mess out.”

  Amusement flickered in Bones’s dark eyes, and he gave Tikaya an irreverent salute, saying, “Nice talking with you, ma’am,” before he trundled off.

  She was not sure what to make of the man’s odd humor or this situation. The fact that she was dependent on the marines out here rankled. She gazed down the flat coastline toward the mountains, wondering how many hundreds of miles lay between her and a town where she could find passage out of the empire. A lot, she feared, and she knew nothing about surviving in this climate.

  “Corporal Dansk,” Okars said. “Head back and warn the others. Corporal Agarik?”

  Tikaya shook away her musings and turned her attention back to the marines.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We’re heading in. Stay here and guard the woman.”

  Irritation flattened Agarik’s lips, and for a moment Tikaya thought he would question the officer. He kept himself to a glum, “Yes, sir.”

  One man trotted back the way they had come, while the others marched away in pairs, leaving Tikaya and Agarik alone with the dead dog.

  “You want to go with them, don’t you?” She lifted her eyebrows at Agarik, whose gaze remained fastened on the backs of the men. “To explore?”

  He huffed a sigh. “No.”

  “You must not lie very often, because you’re not good at it.”

  A slight smile quirked his lips.

  Tikaya’s gaze returned to the buildings overlooking the town. A giant cannon and a flag pole flying Turgonian colors stood before one. Military structures, she guessed. If there were any clues to this mystery, she wagered they would be in an office up there. Exploring the town might be hazardous, but, then, standing out here where anyone with a bow or a rifle could target them felt hazardous too. And if this strange aggression affected the main party... She thought of Rias holding a box of blasting sticks and shuddered.

  “Why don’t we ramble up that hill and see if we can figure out what’s going on?” Tikaya suggested.

  “We’ve orders to stay here.”

  “Actually, I believe your orders were to ‘guard the woman.’”

  “’Stay here and guard the woman.’”

  A breeze gusted down the coast, icy fingers poking through Tikaya’s scarf. “They don’t encourage initiative in Turgonia, do they?”

  “Not in the marines, no.”

  She curled her fingers in her gloves. Even if she did not want to explore, she would have appreciated getting inside out of the wind. “Suppose the woman runs off and you’re forced to chase after her in order to guard her?”

  “With respect, ma’am, I could catch you before you ran five steps.”

  “Rias would run off with me.” It was a stupid argument, and she knew it. She felt like a stubborn five-year-old trying to wrangle an extra hour of play before bedtime. Unfortunately, manipulating men to get her way was not her specialty. No doubt her teenage years should have involved less time studying ancient tablets and more time flirting with boys at the beach.

  “I’d rather he run off with me,” Agarik said.

  The comment surprised a laugh from her and reminded her flirting would probably not work on him anyway.

  A gun fired in the town, stealing her mirth. Someone shouted. It sounded like Turgonian, one of the marines, but distance muddled the words. Agarik’s grip tightened on his rifle and he took a step before he stopped himself. A scream of pain echoed from the dwellings, and it made Tikaya shiver.

  “Something creepy is happening here,” she said. “We should check the buildings on the hill. They’re military, aren’t they? That’d be the place to start looking for answers, you’d think.”

  “Tikaya...”

  “Why are you being so frustratingly obtuse about this?” she growled. “You’d think I was asking you to—” She noticed Agarik’s startled expression and caught herself.

  “Something creepy is happening here,” Agarik said softly.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I understand that you want to be the good soldier and follow orders, and I don’t want to get you in trouble. But...” Rias’s words flashed through her mind: to live when the rest of your team died would be an unacceptable disgrace to many. “Do you want to be the only one of your team left alive when the others catch up?”

  His gaze jerked up, latched onto her. He closed his eyes for a long moment before sighing and asking, “When I get court-martialed and kicked out of the empire for following your suggestions, can I come live on your island?”

  “Absolutely. Free lodging in my parents’ guest bungalow overlooking the sea. I’ll even introduce you to my cousin’s handsome friend who surfs nude every afternoon. He was in one of my linguistics classes; he has a gifted tongue.”

  Agarik’s eyes widened, and he clapped her on the shoulder, leading the way toward the hill. “If you’d promised me all that the first time we met, we’d still be on your island.”

  Tikaya peered down the main strip as they passed it, but she did not spot any marines. They must be exploring inside the buildings.

  When she and Agarik rounded the back corner of a saloon, they jerked to a halt at the sight of skulls and bones half-buried in fresh snow. Human skulls and bones.

  “Cursed ancestors,” Agarik grunted.

  The snow had obscured footprints but did not quite hide the tooth marks scoring the broken bones, the marrow prodded out by tongues.

  “How long has it been since your people had contact with this town?” Tikaya asked.

  “How should I know?” Agarik barked.

  She peered at him, at the irritable frown creasing his brows.

  “Sorry.” He nudged a skull with the toe of his boot. Myriad fractures spun out from a ragged hole smashed into the back. No wolf had done that. “The fits of rage surprise you, don’t they? You think you’re fine, and then...”

  “Yes,” she said. “That’s a concern, especially since the second group is bringing explosives.”

  “I’ve never heard of a Nurian plot like this,” Agarik said.

  She gazed thoughtfully at the mountains, the tundra, and the ice-coated sea. “Since I grew up around practitioners, I’m sensitive to when they’re performing their science. I haven’t felt any of the telltale signs of one at work.”

  “So, this isn’t magic?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then what?”

  She could only shrug.

  Tikaya and Agarik did not speak as they climbed the hill. Several minutes had passed since the last yell, scream, or shot that would have indicated the scouting party was still around. It was as if they had simply disappeared.

  They reached the first of the buildings perched on the crown. The back two, one-story wood structures with narrow windows, were probably barracks and offices. The closest, a taller building with corrugated metal walls, lacked windows, though massive sliding doors marked entrances. Tikaya and Agarik stopped there first, heading for the leeward side, which was free of drifts, though shoveled snow piled high near a walkway. It could not have been too long since the living occupied the outpost.

  Ice shattered and metal groaned as Agarik shoved
a door open a few feet. Weak sunlight probed the interior, revealing an empty building with an earthen floor splotched with dark stains. The smell of engine oil wafted out.

  “All the caterpillars are gone,” Agarik said. “Guess we’re stuck with dog sleds.”

  “Caterpillars?” she asked.

  “Steam vehicles designed to handle the ice and snow.”

  “Ah. How many are there supposed to be?”

  “There’s room for five or six in there.”

  They crunched across the crown of the hill, sinking calf-deep into snow. Wind gusted, blowing powder off the roofs.

  A three-foot long icicle sheared off an overhang and plunged into the snow a foot from Agarik’s shoulder. Tikaya jumped to the side, tangling her feet, and toppled into the snow. Agarik raised his eyebrows, and she felt sheepish.

  She clambered to her feet. It was chance that the deadly icicle had dropped then, nothing more. Regardless, Agarik took a couple steps to the side before continuing along his route.

  Heavy shadows lay in the alleys between the buildings, and Tikaya glanced skyward in surprise. The sun had dropped well past its zenith.

  “It’s already afternoon.” Feeling silly for blurting the obvious, she added, “I didn’t realize how short days are up here.”

  “I was here once near the winter solstice. Day is about an hour then.”

  By the entrance to the next building, shoveled snow piled nearly to the roof. They followed a wide walkway with a couple of inches of fresh powder blanketing it. Paw prints marred the surface. Large paw prints.

  A gnawed skeleton, not quite hidden by the snow, sprawled a couple feet from the door. A hammer protruded from the skull, its head caught where it had smashed a hole through the bone. Shreds of a black uniform were tangled amongst the ribs.

  “I hope our scouting doesn’t require us spending the night here,” Tikaya said. “I doubt this town gets any less disturbing after dark.”

  Agarik nodded at the hammer. “Scavengers might have cleaned these corpses, but it looks like humans were responsible for the deaths.”

  “Of course. Killing people is what you Turgonians are good at.” She regretted the words as soon as they came out.

  Agarik slid a knife free of his belt and whirled, glowering at her. “We need answers, not sarcastic comments.”

  Tikaya skittered back, hands raised. He turned the knife so the afternoon sun glinted against the frosty steel. His breath steamed the air before his intense dark eyes.

  “Agarik?” She shifted her weight, thinking of the razor in her rucksack. It would take a lot of rummaging to find it. She should have done that as soon as the other marines let her out of sight. “Put the knife away, please.”

  His cheek twitched and the blade trembled.

  “Something here is affecting you, remember? They let it affect them...” Hands still raised, she nodded toward the bones. “And now they’re dead.”

  Agarik forced his fingers open, and the knife tunneled into a snow drift. “Of course. I know.” Eyes closed, he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Do you think... Are we making a mistake being here? Will whatever happened to these people happen to us?” For the first time that Turgonian fearlessness faltered.

  Tikaya decided she preferred the fearlessness. “You know as much as I do, probably more.” She picked up the knife and dusted it off. “Mind if I keep this for now?”

  He flinched but nodded. “Go ahead. I have my rifle and pistol.” He waved at the town. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can always leave if the situation escalates into something dangerous.”

  She bit back a comment about the townspeople apparently not being able to leave to save their lives.

  Agarik pushed open the door, and Tikaya peered around him. A single corridor stretched to the opposite end of the long building. The far door stood ajar, and daylight slashed inside. Shadows in the middle stirred. Two dark furry shapes turned their direction.

  Wolves.

  They did not exist back home, but she had seen pictures. Tall and winter lean, the creatures growled, lips rippling, saliva gleaming on fangs.

  The pair charged. Agarik raised his rifle and shot one, the boom thunderous as it echoed in the hallway. The ball struck the lead wolf in the shoulder, and it yipped in pain, but it kept running. Agarik fired his pistol, striking the second canine in the eye. This one faltered and flopped over, but the other kept racing toward them.

  Tikaya backed outside and Agarik, needing time to reload, almost fell out beside her.

  “Stay back,” he barked.

  She ignored him and lunged forward to slam the door shut. A heartbeat later, the wolf crashed against the wood. It shuddered but held.

  Agarik already had his ammo pouches open. With admirable calm, he poured powder down the muzzle of the rifle, rammed a cloth-wrapped ball home, and slipped a percussion cap on the nipple. The wolf slammed against the door two more times, then claws scrabbled at wood. Tikaya gripped the knife and wished she had a bow. On a whim, she yanked the hammer out of the skull.

  The clawing at the door stopped.

  “I bet it’s going around,” she said.

  “Stay back,” Agarik repeated. “Stand against the wall.”

  Rifle loaded, he stepped away from the building, ready to fire either direction. Tikaya put her back into the corner between the door and the pile of shoveled snow.

  Even expecting the wolf, she was startled by how soon it ripped around a corner. Agarik did not flinch as it hurtled toward him. He lined up the shot and fired.

  The ball struck the wolf in the chest, and it missed a step, but amazingly it did not stop. A craziness lit its yellow eyes as the beast launched itself at Agarik.

  He had not had time to reload the pistol, so he could only swing the rifle like a club. The wolf twisted in the air, and Agarik merely clipped it. The beast’s fangs snapped inches from his neck. The snow hindered him, and he stumbled back against the wall.

  Tikaya slashed at the wolf when it landed nearby, but it sprang again too quickly, and her blade sliced air. Agarik hammered it with the butt of the rifle, but the creature seemed not to feel pain. It readied itself to spring again.

  Tikaya lifted the hammer, thinking she might get lucky if she threw it, but a new thought halted her. She turned her back to the fray and scrambled up the snow pile.

  “Good idea,” Agarik called. “Stay up there until...” He grunted as he swung at the wolf again. “Until I finish this.”

  Retreating was not Tikaya’s idea. She crawled through the snow near the edge of the roof until she could peer down upon the skirmish. The eaves sheltered Agarik, but the wolf, needing room to run and leap, kept moving in and out of the overhang’s shadow.

  “Stay against the wall, and suck in your belly,” Tikaya called.

  She leaned over and grabbed an icicle as thick as her upper arm. Even with the hammer it took several cracks to free it from the edge. The wolf leaped. She timed it, then released the ice spear.

  Tikaya did not expect to hit the creature on the first try, but her aim proved true. The icicle bludgeoned the top of its gray-furred head.

  Agarik sidestepped, and the wolf smashed against the wall and fell, unconscious. “Throw me the knife.”

  She dropped it into the snow before climbing off the roof. Apparently taking no chances, Agarik sliced the beast’s throat.

  “Ma’am?” He fished in his pouches to reload his weapons.

  “Yes?”

  “Marines are very fit. We do not have bellies.”

  “My apologies.”

  “Thank you for your help.” He lifted his fur cap and swiped away sweat as he looked back and forth from the roof to the wolf to her. “I wasn’t expecting you to, ah, to be able to...”

  “You’re welcome.” Tikaya felt insulted that he was so shocked she had done something useful. She supposed she should appreciate his protectiveness, but she found herself missing Rias and the way he had assumed her competent enough to help. She snorted. Actu
ally, he had assumed her a little too competent, but they had both survived, so she could not fault his decisions. “Are wolves always that difficult to kill?” was all she said.

  “No.”

  “I suspected not.”

  “Let’s see what they were after.” Agarik led the way inside.

  This time, no creatures attacked when they opened the door. The second wolf lay dead where Agarik had shot it. The drab green paint covering the wood walls and the gray tiles lining the floor could not camouflage the dark blood spatters staining the hallway.

  They passed doors, some closed, some open to utilitarian offices. Each contained identical military-issue desks, chairs, and bookcases. Some offices appeared untouched, as if the men had simply stepped away to make a cup of tea. In others, toppled chairs and scattered papers suggested struggles had taken place.

  Agarik stepped into a messy room to investigate, and Tikaya chose a tidy one across the hall. She peeked in cabinets and drawers, not sure what she sought. The cause of this madness, but what would that look like?

  She paused before returning to the hallway. She tugged her glove off and ran a finger along a bookcase by the door.

  “No dust,” she murmured.

  That and the mostly cleared walkways outside implied things had been normal within the last week or two.

  Tikaya returned to the hallway, passed an office where Agarik poked and clanked, and stopped before a closed door. Wood shavings dusting the floor drew her eye. Above them, claw marks ravaged the door and jamb.

  Dread settled in the pit of Tikaya’s stomach. “Agarik? I think we want to check this one.”

  Maybe it was cowardly, but she stepped aside when he walked out, gesturing for him to turn the knob. He took in the claw marks with a grim set to his jaw, then handed her the rifle.

  “Uhm?” she asked, startled.

  “Just in case,” Agarik said. “It’s loaded. Just point and pull the trigger if you have to.”

  “I’ve never shot a—”

  “If you can make a bull’s-eye with a bow and an icicle, you can shoot a firearm.” He withdrew his pistol, turned the knob, and pushed. The door bumped against something and only opened a couple inches. Pistol leading, he leaned against the door, shoving to open it further. Furniture inside scraped, and something tipped over with a crack. He peered inside. “Cursed ancestors.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Too gruesome for a woman. Wait here.”