Fox’s Tongue and Kirin’s Bone

Chapter 78: Fit to Kill

Aaron had a bad feeling. Which was the sort of irony he didnt much appreciate, really. He was back on the road, with a reply for Connor from his brother, and a letter for Rose that shed not asked for, and a few other missives on the state of the kingdom and suchlike that were probably more important. He was about an hour south of the Helland enclave, and more than that north of the next messenger station. He was just about even with the outpost that had been attacked. A few more bends in the road, and hed be seeing it. The outpost that the dragons had fled from, and there hadnt been time for reports of where theyd gone, much less to send hunting parties after them.

The outpost that hadnt been re-manned.

If Aaron were a dragon smart enough to try taking over a remote place like that, then he thought he might well be smart enough to use this temporary break in humanitys defensesand sightlinesto do whatever it was hed been set on doing in the first place.

I dont suppose one of you would tell me if I was about to die, would you, Aaron whispered to himself. But neither his Death nor Markus appeared to answer. No real surprise, when his Death had said it wouldnt be seeing him again until she sent him away. Both ominous and unhelpful, that. And Markus Death simply hated him, so.

So.

Aaron reigned in his horse. It was a different one than hed ridden up north. Fresh. And rather confused as to why it wasnt being allowed to stretch its legs in peace, particularly so close to the start of a route it knew better than its rider.

Aaron slid off, and patted its neck. Were going to try a little experiment, you and I.

The horse shook out its mane. It turned its head, watching as he unclipped the little mail bag from its harness and moved it to his own person. He was already wearing the stags cloak. The rules on wearing a things skin werent a set thing, but in general, anything hed normally wear under a cloak seemed to accompany him just fine when he changed. So he checked his daggers, and shoved his pockets full of food, and slung his waterskin over his shoulder and under the stags fur. Weapons and food and water and his own two feet. And the mail, which was what he was expected to carry, and was light enough he might as well.

He checked the sky. Which was mostly blue, and wouldnt have been hard to blend in against, and had too much height to it for a thing he couldnt use himself. He hadnt trusted it when hed first stepped foot out of Onekin, and he didnt trust it now.

Aaron patted the horse again. It stared back at him, in all its horsey confusion. I dont know how to get you moving when Im not on you. But keep following your usual road, all right? And try not to get eaten, if theres anything hungry about.

A good goal, for the both of them. He took a few steps back, and pulled up his hood.

Being a deer was a different thing than the other cloaks hed tried. Leggier than a wolf in a way he liked, and taller, and his own horse didnt smell good in a way that put his mind and his stomach at odds. The antlers growing on his head were a bit of a strange weight, but they felt natural enough after a moment. Probably helped that they werent all full of muscles he could suddenly move, like a griffins wings; the antlers were just there, and he didnt need to think about them, unless he needed to stab someone with his head. Which wasnt an unappealing thought. His hooves seemed nicely fit for trampling or kicking or running, too, and a few quick bounds in a neatly tight circle left him rather satisfied with how solid he felt. None of that hollow-boned business. Or the initial-searing-pain business; the stag had no particular magic, and slid over his own skin without complaint. It was a shame he couldnt fly, but that was the only downgrade.

His horse had taken a few steps away. It was watching him, its ears pricked. Aaron felt a bit judged. He bobbed his head in its general directiona polite human gesture, now mildly threateningand then. Well. He hadnt much liked being out in the open before hed pulled up his hood, and he certainly didnt now. Aaron stretched those legs of his, and bounded towards the forests edge.

He didnt actually cross into it, mind. Much as he suddenly wanted to. It would be a safer thing, being among all those trees. And wouldnt it be more natural, for a deer to be in the woods, instead of wandering the treeline like this? The sun was already too high, the shadows too stark. His stub tail twitched behind him. So did his legs, under him. He kept looking around, and up, because there was many a thing that would eat him if it could, and the stag needed no convincing of that. Though he found himself far more suspicious of flashes of white than was strictly necessary. Every cloud was a griffin preparing to dive at him, until proven otherwise.

Yes, it would be so much smarter, more natural, more reassuring to step between the line of rocks, into the Lord of Seasons forest

Which Aaron was definitely not doing. He pulled himself away, to a less tempting distance. And then he started moving south, with many wary glances about and the occasional stop to graze, to make it a little less obvious that he wasnt a real deer.

His horse stood a few minutes more behind him. Grazed a little itself, at the roadside. Then it looked about for a rider that wasnt coming back, and did what it knew best: it started on its route south again. At its own pace, for the first time in its life.

They reached the unmanned outpost at near enough the same time. The both of them stopped, the horse in the road and Aaron off some distance in the high grass outside the forest, both with their heads suddenly raised to the gusting coastal wind.

He knew the smell of salt well enough, now. And the smells of the grasses brushing against his belly, and the darker, loamier scent of the forest to his left. What he didnt recognize was this new smell: dry and crackly, in a way that made him flare his nose and stare straight at the base.

His horse bolted back the way theyd come. Reassuring, that. Aaron kept standing, and sniffing, because something in him was quite sure that staying still would make any unfriendly eyes pass him straight over. To be fair, tucking himself into a corner and freezing had worked for him plenty well as a human. He just didnt have a nice defensible corner, here. Or any cover, without making his own dash for the forest, which would both put him in the forest and require him to move in the first place. He compromised at lowering himself slowly down, tucking his legs under him, letting his tawny fur blend with the remnants of last years dried grass that still stuck out taller than the tender new growth beneath. The only part of him he didnt tuck away was his head, because he still wanted to see.

The antlers were not very helpful, for this part.

He was not waiting very long.

A deers nose, it seemed, was far more alarmed by the smell of predators than the griffins had been. Or perhaps a sunny day hiding in grass was simply better sniffing conditions than a rainy battlefield. Which was to say: a dragon was peeking its nose above the guard stations roof. It turned its head to look both ways along the road, like a child about to cross a street at market. Then it finished the climb, and changed its scales from the lichen-speckled grays and blacks of a seaside cliff to an impeccable sky blue. It took off, flying low over the forest, where one would have to be very near at hand to mark its passage.

Another followed, a few minutes later. And another. Aaron tore up a hank of spring grass for chewing, and tried to work out if there was a set time between them. Because hed rather like to get himself anywhere else but here now that his curiosity had met reality. He was no patriot, and he needed to stop getting himself in positions where he could be confused for one.

There were doppels about, too. The dragons crawling up over the cliff might have been, too, but. These definitely were. Given that they currently looked human, and were keeping up their own watch of the road from inside the guard station. He could see them moving now and again, through the arrowslit windows. Probably they were giving some sign on the buildings cliff-facing side, to signal the next dragon to climb. He couldnt see from here. But he had an excellent view of the door on his own side opening, and a woman stepping out to stare in his direction.

A real deer would have bolted at the first scent of dragon, wouldnt it? Probably.

If theyd been keeping watch this whole time, they would have seen a riderless messenger horse approaching, wouldnt they? Almost certainly.

Were not stupid, Late Wake, the woman said, after a long moment. She sounded almost disappointed in him. Come over. Get a closer look. Youll stand a better chance telling your Lady what youve seen, if you get yourself a dragons wings to flee on.

Well. That was certainly one way to get a fellow thinking of doppeling.

Or should I come over

People generally didnt expect a fellow to run off on them mid-sentence. There was sort of an unspoken rule about these things, an ingrained nicety it was hard to shake: people didnt interrupt the speech of a person aiming to kill them, didnt turn and bolt while an enemy was talking. It really did feel rude, every time Aaron did it.

Hey, the dragon shouted, in startled insult.

Aaron ran into the Lord of Seasons forest. It was not ideal. And probably a lot ruder than anything else hed just done.

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