The Slime Farmer 54 The Missing Caravans 7

Defi squinted into the distance, half because his eyes were suddenly pained by the brightness, half because the land before them made him think he was back in Ontrea staring at the wastes as his father's uncle gave him and his siblings a lesson in hawking.

Only the sounds of Ascharonian being spoken around him made that particular image waver. Not to mention, the wastes had fewer cliffs and ravines than this.

After months of having experienced the verdant spring that was the Lowpool, this was a small shock. "How could there be such a place in these mountains?"

"There was a summoner battle here, a hundred years back," Baurd answered from behind him. He'd been close enough to hear his low voice. "A general and a traitor to the empire, I forget what the names were. They summoned a thunderbird and a stone-dragon, at some point. Both the summon-beasts and the summoners died."

A summoner battle?

The expanse of bare stone and soil stretching toward the horizon in three directions said that the summon-beasts that did this were not ordinary even among mystic beasts.

A high screech pierced the air. A white and red hawk came swooping down, wings spread impressively wide. The breast feathers and primary feathers were a deep bloody red, a marked contrast against the white of the rest of the bird's plumage and the dark amber of its eyes. The scaly legs were also a dark red.

"That's an oathfeather hawk," Baurd said. "Ah, I knew some of the hunters had summons but not one this impressive. It's a second-level summon. Most hunters choose woodhounds, see."

Defi watched the hawk flutter its wings, and land on the arm of the hunter that he remembered threatening to throw people into the Sleeper's Ravine earlier.

"Oh, it's Darved. No wonder." Baurd looked impressed. "He's one of the top hunters in the Genlet guild."

Before he could answer, Tamal stepped into pace with him, on his other side. "The land of the Barrens is uncertain, so watch where you put your feet, hm?"

Defi flashed a brief smile at her.

The hunter Darved spoke, his voice a rumble. "There's an army platoon nearby. Tomer's leading them."

Ral nodded. "They're headed the same place as us, I imagine."

Darved grunted agreement. "The Groaning Cliff."

Defi followed their gazes.

To their right, curving high into the sky, was what looked like happened when a mountain affronted a deity and got most of its body sheered away by some divine cleaver.

One side was a sheer, smooth stone façade, steep and in right angles to the ground, where said divine blade might have sleekly cut to leave behind unnaturally smooth stone. The other side was a mass of dust and jagged rock, as if what was left of the mountain was eroding into itself.

In fact, most of the Barrens looked like the area was crumbling into itself.

Only the single façade of the Groaning Cliff stood like it would be an eternal sentinel of this wasteland set in the middle of a mountain range. It was studded in large crystal rock, glimmered in the afternoon sun, setting itself apart even more, the miserable jewel in a pile of rotting rocks.

Defi frowned. A part of the cliff flashed, flickered, then stopped. Then it did it again.

"Am I wrong, or does that perhaps look like signalling?"

The others nearby turned to look. Flash, flicker, flicker, flash – it was almost like the sunlight was dancing. After a moment several faces looked odd, others looked like they might laugh.

"Ah!" said one of the young men from Genlet. "It's lamp-kissing."

Tamal snorted, as snickering sounded from the younger ones in the group. "Idiot."

Defi tried, but couldn't resist. "What's lamp-kissing?"

Baurd smirked at him. "Never tried it? You look like the romantic type."

Defi shrugged. After he failed the Trials when he was sixteen, his casual prospects in that regard were dim. He'd always expected an arranged marriage after he passed, so he'd never gotten far enough as to start courting a woman seriously.

"It's talking using lamps, between lovers mostly. At night, lamplight could be seen from across the town. The language changes every generation, but the content stays the same." It was, surprisingly, Tamal who answered. She laughed lightly, lowered her voice. "Sometimes, in the right mood and the right city, there's no better entertainment at night than to sit up and read those lamps flashing over the rooftops."

Baurd stared at her, speechless.

Defi kept in his amusement and turned his attention to the others.

"Do you know this code, Emeson?" Daved asked with a reasonably straight face. "Translate it, would you?"

The young man who exclaimed about the lamp-kissing paled.

"That's right, Emes, what does it say?" Baurd's faux innocence made his friend glare and a few others of the younger contingent laugh.

"Well?"

The single word from Daved silenced the laughter, but not the grins and bright amusement in the others' eyes.

Emes swallowed, glanced at the subtle signals again. "It's uh, it's a poem."

Baurd looked briefly gleeful before arranging his demeanor into solemn anticipation.

"Why not—" began Ral, but he was interrupted.

Emes spoke as fast as he could.

"Oh cry despair, upon this night a quiet bounds,

"Too quiet for flowers that dig deep into rainless grounds.

"Is there no succor, gently valorous bursting clouds

"Of chivalry cleaving twain from twain?

"Oh I pray, upon the quiet restrained sounds of rain,

"Be minister and martinet, care not the whirl over hillock

"Enough to dislocate this kee—"

"Thank you, young man," Ral interrupted before the narrative got out of hand, though he was smirking as well. "I was going to say, why not simply say what the poem meant in this situation, which I suppose is a cry for assistance?"

Defi lifted a brow. Certainly, if that was the sort of message flashing over random rooftops, Defi could see how it could be entertaining.

Emes was red with mortification, unable to speak more.

Baurd patted him on the shoulder, solemnly. "Your bravery will be sung in the songs of Genlet, passed down in legends that –ow!"

He quickly stepped away from Emeson, rubbing his ribs where the other's elbow had dug in. "That means there's someone from Genlet in there, yes? At least, I don't think other villages and towns use the same uh, poetry."

The light amusement in the air turned heavy.

*

It took a mere hour for their cohort to once again be stationed on a knoll, this time without the benefit of sweet-smelling grass under them. All of them were dusty from head to foot, more than once having experienced the earth slide out from under them, or nearly fall to sinkholes of dust.

"What are they doing?"

They were keenly studying the army platoon, who had stopped and were now tensely arranged in a ravine facing what according to Raun was one of the entrances to the network of caves under the Groaning Cliff. They were hidden under an overhang and behind one of the many deceptively stable-looking ridges in the Barrens.

Defi had the misfortune of stepping wrong and rolling down an incline earlier.

He couldn't infuse Current into the land while walking, unfortunately. His focus was on different things. He could not split his mind like the masters of the Current could.

"Waiting," Defi answered Baurd. They were here for the same reason as the dusty and insect-bitten group. Defi imagined they were waiting for the main force to attack and provide a distraction for entry.

It was after all, the same reason they'd stopped advancing as well.

An explosion sounded to the northeast, on the other side of the Groaning Cliff.

Defi watched as the soldiers hopped to attention and advanced.

Surely they weren't attacking now?

It was too soon.

But they crested the ridge unhesitating. From the Groaning Cliff, there were shouts from the guards.

Defi cursed silently.

"They're moving too early," came from one of the former soldiers. "Chelua take over-eager baby officers."

People streamed out of the Cliff entrance. Too many.

"Can we help them?"

Ral shook his head. "We're splitting up. I'm taking ten to the soldiers. The rest of you go free our friends before they become hostages. Daved, Amren, Tamal, can you—?"

The three readily knew what he was asking, quickly dividing the group between them.

Defi went with the second group. Warriors gossiped greatly. His altercation with an army officer right now was not what Ral needed for cooperation.

Baurd stepped into pace with the first group, gripping a halberd tightly.

He clapped Defi on the back. "Luck of the Harmonium to you."

"I feel, considering, that you'll need it more than I do."

"You doubt me? I am hurt, overwhelmed by this mistrust!"

Defi sent him a dry look.

Ral started moving before Baurd could answer, taking most of the former soldiers with him.

The rest split toward the Groaning Cliff.

They hurried.

Even with little thought to stealth, the guards too preoccupied with the approaching platoon. Nearing the cliff, Defi unsheathed his sword, fell into the calming breathing of the Second Circle.

Chapter end