Crosspoint

            Kayeen awoke with a start. Despite the cold, and the fact he had tossed his blankets on the floor in his sleep, his bed was drenched in sweat. He heard the surf breaking against the rocks and for a panicked moment he felt that he was still in the dream. Never before had his nightmares been so vivid. Never before had he experienced a dream whose fear and pain followed him into reality. That pain made him unsure what his reality actually was until, from somewhere below, he heard the sound of dishes clattering.

            Slowly, he let out his breath. He hadnt even realized he was holding it. Then, with a groan, Kayeen sat up and pumped his hands into and out of fists trying to get the blood flowing through his arms and hands again. His neck popped as he rolled his head trying to work out the soreness from the miserable bed. He tunneled into his tunic and, yawning, shrugged on his boots and stood up. For a second he had to steady himself as his vision darkened and refocused. There was little chance breakfast would be ready but he could always get a good cup of coffee. Returning to sleep after that dream was certainly not an option.

            He rounded down the stairs and saw that there were already two men sitting in the main dining area of the inn. The man on his right Kayeen immediately recognized as Tiev, the first mate on the Blue Spray. The other man was shorter and scrawny and carried himself with a restless nervousness. He was constantly in motion and kept glancing from left to right. The man kept looking over at Kayeen from the moment he stepped into view and as he headed toward their table, this shorter fellow grew more and more apprehensive.

            What brings you two down here so early? Kayeen asked as he pulled out his chair.

Tiev responded, I didnt expect you down here so soon, but Im glad you are. This here is Foglaid and I think you might want to hear what he has to say.

            Kayeen looked toward Foglaid. The other man looked like a weasel with a blond beard. He had a nervous twitch that made it seem as though he was sniffing the air. He was unable to make eye contact and needed a moment to work up the courage to mutter, Youre a pusher? Kayeen looked at him blankly. When Foglaid finally noticed that his question wasnt understood, he made some random hand motions then asked, You do magic?

            The cook coming into the room gave Kayeen a moment to think about how he should answer. Wiping his hands on his apron the large man came over to the table and said, Im sorry, I dont usually have customers this early. I can get you some eggs, and coffee, of course, but it will be a while still before my first loaves are finished. If you are willing to wait I can get you some kasha or a goyaki.

            The cook looked injured when the other two simply asked for the coffee so Kayeen ordered eggs as well. Once the larger man had retreated back into his kitchen Kayeen turned back to Foglaid and said, Why are you asking?

            Foglaid did his best not to wilt before his steely glare. The weasel of a man took a deep breath and answered, I represent some people powerful people. If you are a pusher, if you can you know. We might be able to work out a mutually beneficial arrangement. We can help protect you from from everybody.

            Kayeen sat back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. For a while he seemed to be looking straight ahead at nothing as he processed the possibilities that, moments ago, he did not realize existed. Finally, he turned his head toward Foglaid and said, Talk to me.

-     -     -     -     -

            Gavril awoke to an unfamiliar scratching sound. He groaned and rolled over to see Avril on his hands and knees in the center of the room. That was where the scratching noise was coming from, but at first he had no idea what Avril was doing. It was a map. Gavril sat up in his bed to get a better perspective. The map was actually pretty accurate, especially since Avril seemed to be doing it all from his head.

            When Avril saw that his companion was awake, he pointed to a spot on the map he was drawing and said, Where is this?

            You tell me. Youre the one drawing the map.

            I dont know but here, He tapped that spot on his map, is where we need to go.

            Thats Takino. Why do we need to go there?

            Its where Kayeen is.

            Gavril yawned and muttered to himself, Its too early for this. He walked over to the fire pit and grabbed another piece of charcoal. With it he made a point just off Avrils map. To Avril he said, Even if he managed to find a boat that had not left yet, and even if they left as soon as he found it, and even if they had traveled with perfect winds, he could not possibly have managed to get beyond here.

            Youre wrong. This is where he is, I know it.

            Gavril marked another spot even further off the drawn map which was about where Trappers Point should be. He then began filling in the space between Avrils map and that point. He asked, And how do you know that? Avril began telling his dream while Gavril continued to expand the map. The older man soon became so caught up in what Avril was saying that he put his own makeshift chalk aside. He realized as he listened that either Avril had far more knowledge of the outside world than he had let on or else this was a true Dream.

            When Avril was finished, Gavril sketched a rough outline of the Great North Range. There is a quicker way to get to Takino. He drew a line through the range heading towards the southeast. Few ever take it because the way is too narrow for a team laden with cargo. We will be facing temperatures just as cold as we had yesterday but there will be no place to shelter at night and we will have to travel straight through for three, maybe four days without sleep. There will not be the wind we have experienced but there is a worse danger avalanche. Outside of that possibility, with the Talent we should not have too much trouble until we get to here.

            Avril looked at the circle Gavril drew at the southern edge of the Range. Whats there?

            Thats where the Zingari live.

            The Zingari?

            For a moment Gavril shook his head remembering how little his companion knew of the outside world. They are nomads. Travelers. Even before the Troubles, they had made it their lifes mission to hunt down and kill anyone with the Talent. According to their beliefs, magic is an abomination in the eyes of the Creator and those with the Talent are actually tools of the enemy. For most of time they were outcasts, but after your parents well, now they are held in high esteem. The Zingari make a living as travelling traders and craftsmen. They are especially talented with wood and leather armor and making small arms. All this, however, is for them only a way to finance their true mission which is to eliminate magic from the world.

            Why?

            Before the Troubles, most people believed that the Tree of Life was what the Creator planted to help sustain all life and that he gave to some people the Talent that they might be guardians of the Tree. The Zingari claimed that we were not guarding it but rather keeping the rest of the world from it and, by extension, preventing the world from being able to truly know the Creator. They claimed that only when we were all destroyed could the world finally come to know peace. After your parents did what they did, the Zingari went from being a fringe group of radicals to being the spearhead of the worlds purge of those with the Talent during the Troubles. Most of the rest of the world has settled back to normal They figure we have all been eliminated or almost so with the survivors in hiding, but the Zingari maintain their hunt.

            You said they were travelling groups, so how can you know that there will be some here?

            Gavril shook his head. At any given time a large majority are on the move in various caravans around the world but they do keep permanent settlements in each of the four corners of the world. This is their northeast settlement. These settlements help pass along information so that every group will know what others have been up to and have seen. They are also places for the pregnant and those with the very young can let their children grow. Each settlement also has a school to train their White Knives.

            Is there no way, if we pass through the range, to avoid them?

            We will certainly try. But remember, to make it through the mountains, we will be days with no sleep. We will be exhausted in mind, body, and Talent. If we leave any mark of our passing, the White Knives will be on our trail, and we will most certainly die.

            -     -     -     -     -

            Her eyes jolted open, but her mind and the rest of her body were much slower in coming awake. It was completely dark outside and nothing else in the Zingari settlement was stirring. Then she heard it again. There was a scratching sound near the top of the tent. Nadezha tried to adjust her eyesight to the darkness, but with an overcast sky in the dead of night, there was nothing to adjust. She could try as hard as she might, but there was no silhouette to clue her in as to what was making the scratching sound. Most likely it was a broken branch that was being pushed by the wind. If she did not take care of it that scratching will most likely keep her awake all night and wear a hole through the tent by morning. Nadezha grumbled in her mind as she began to stir from her bed.

            Suddenly the lamp flicked on. The brightness blinded her and the young girl, about sixteen, nearly yelped as she scrambled to the far edge of her bed and clutched the blanket around her. She lowered her head and rapidly blinked to try and adjust her vision as quickly as possible to the sudden brightness. There was no one else in the room. There was no sound of someone outside. Nobody had come into the room or out, but there was no other way that lamp could have been lit. Nadezha mentally went through a list of the victims to her endless stream of pranks but she could think of no one with both the ability and the motive to get revenge in this way. In her tired state, she couldnt even think how it had been done.

            She reached out to snuff the wick but before her arm had extended more than halfway, the light went out. This time Nadezha did yelp. Curiosity mixed with confusion and fear. Slowly all three were replaced with horror as she began to realize the unthinkable. The occasional scratching overhead now went completely unnoticed. Now fully awake and desperately afraid, Nadezha wracked her mind for any other possible explanation. She was still searching for something as the light of predawn began creeping into the world around her. Soon others would be up and about and if it was true, everyone would know. How could they not?

            There was only one way to know for sure if her fears were true. Nadezha reluctantly pointed toward the lamp. The tiny flickering flame that appeared seemed to mimic her reluctance. She drew back her hand in horror and just as quickly, the flame disappeared. After holding in her breath for an eternity of seconds, she tried to still her racing heart and pointed toward the lamp again. This time the flame was stronger but it danced about as though it was being tossed around by a nonexistent wind.

            About eight years back this had happened to a cousin. Everybody knew the story even though nobody ever talked about it. Nadezha thought of him as she picked up that terrible lamp and left her tent. Briefly she cringed as the cold autumn air brought to her attention that she was still in her nightclothes, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore except her one last duty. She arrived at her destination and took down a length of rope from its hook. Just outside she kneeled to the ground and wrote in the dirt the same words her cousin had written. Unknown to her, they were also the same words many others stretching back through time had also written in a sad, unspoken Zingari tradition:

The Zingari remain pure

I go with honor

            Her knees were wet with the morning dew as Nadezha stood to her feet and slowly began walking northward. In another couple days someone from her family will follow her trail that would lead to the tree from which she hung. They would take her down and then burn her body. There was no burial, there was no ceremony or remembrance for one who carried an abomination. The only way to destroy that abomination was to completely destroy its carrier.