Chapter 3

            Sunset found Pella and the stranger gasping for breath, leaning against a small hillock that afforded a wide enough view of the prairie behind them.  Steadying her hands on her knees, Pella looked up, finally close enough to see every wrinkle, every bead of sweat in the man’s narrow, pale face.

            “Mister… Mister Edgeless,” she gasped, “will my grandfather and the others be all right?”

            The man snapped his head towards her, chin out and eyes narrowing.  His jaw clenched. 

            “What did you call me?”

            Pella gulped dry air that did nothing to soothe the burn in her chest or the sudden sinking cold in her stomach.

            “I… he… um, that barbarian, he… that’s what he called you.”

            The man tensed, and Pella felt as though she were being weighed, seen through-and-through by his dark gaze.  Apparently, she was found worthy, for he sank back again, eyes cast once more to the ground.  His hand slid away from the hilt of his weapon.

            “All right, ‘Edgeless’ is as good as anything.  No ‘Mister,’ though.  That’s a bit much.”

            “Okay.  Um, so…”

            “As for your granddad, well… he’s a smart fellow, Pella.  He knows the attack wasn’t meant for him or your kinsmen.  He’ll call a retreat, and the Oil-men will gladly break away to pursue us.”  Pella found her breath again as the words tumbled.

            “The who?  Wait! After us?  Why? We can’t stay here! They’ll find us!”

            “Quiet!” Edgeless barked, then muttered a self-chastisement under his breath.  Forcing a slow breath, he held his calloused hands up in a mollifying gesture.  “Sorry, shhhh.  No, no.  We’re fine, for now.  I promise.  It’s almost dark, and they won’t strike at night.”

            Eyes wide, Pella murmured, “How can you be so sure?”

            “Because,” Edgeless continued, stretching his legs out and rubbing at a twinge in his back, “they’re scared.  They are more strangers to this land than you.”

            Pella had returned to scanning the horizon, brows knitted.  At that last startling revelation, she turned, blinking quizzically at Edgeless, who merely gave an exhausted smile.  “Now, how about you go start a fire? I could never get the hang of it.”

            By the time the stars came out, Edgeless and Pella were camped in around a small, smokeless fire of prairie grasses.  With perseverance and her grandfather’s small flint knife, Pella had managed to kindle a spark in the waxy reeds. She now sat huddled over the tiny flame, hands trying to catch every morsel of heat before the chill winds of the night would whip it away.  That wind chilled her inside and out.  It lacked the soothing ebb and flow of the ocean’s breath, nor did it have its familiar, salty taste.

            Edgeless had produced a small cache of jerky and dried fruit from a pouch, and was looking over the meager offerings with something between resignation and distaste.  Delaying the meal, he rummaged in the folds of his cloak and withdrew a small, brass pocket watch.  As he checked the time, the wind shifted, and Pella caught the faint tick-tick-tick from his direction.  She started a moment, before craning her neck to peer into his cupped hand.

            “Oh … what is that?”

            Edgeless turned slightly to look at her, and as the firelight glinted, she once again felt herself under his cold appraisal.  Less severe than before, she quietly noted.  Apparently deciding that her question was simple, child-like curiosity, he tilted the tiny disc towards her.

            “It’s my pocket watch.  A little dingy, I admit, but it’s never failed me.”

            “What’s a pockerwatch?  Why’s it making that noise?”

            “Hm.  I’ve never met anyone who didn’t know what a watch was.  Makes sense, I suppose.  You’ve probably never had to worry about being late.”  Pella scowled, rolling her shoulders back a bit.

            “I went crabbing at the shore before the seagulls came, every morning.  I’m good at it, too.  How would a… a watch do that?”

            “All right, look closer.  See here, these skinny little pointers?  They go around the circle, and where they point, it tells you what part of the day or night it is.  See that line right there?  When the two hands line up like so, it’s sunset.”  Leaning in closer, her fingers tapping unconsciously on her knees to the frail ticking of the watch, Pella scanned the crystal face.  Her eyes widened as the second hand slid smoothly in its orbit, completing a full loop before she released her breath in wonder.

            “That’s so… so delicate!  But why do you need it?  Why can’t you just look at the sun to see when sunset is?”  Edgeless laughed, not unkindly, and shook his head.

            “Pella, not everyone lives where they can see the sun.  Or the stars.  We’re heading to Cog, right in the center of those damned storms.”  He smiled again, though his eyes were grave.  “Pella, in the city, there are people who haven’t seen the sun in years.  Decades.  They don’t even know what it is.”

            Pella pursed her lips, quiet for a moment.  She had no idea such a life existed.  It wasn’t even possible.  Didn’t everyone need the warmth of the sun to live?  And what of the stars?  The pantheon of constellations guided every movement of her tribe, leading them up and down the coastline, towards food, away from the cold.  She had a vague memory of her grandfather telling her that songs shaped the tribe over the course of a day, and the stars shaped the tribe over the course of a lifetime, and so, the stars were like the most important songs, ebbing and flowing forever.

            The watch was still ticking, and Edgewise was looking at her with something circling concern.  She turned a bit from the fire, eyes travelling over the maze of constellations until she found the Shieldmaiden.  Pella had always thought the Shieldmaiden floated over the ocean, but there she stood, over the prairie.  Her broad shield of stars floated well above the horizon, indicating the season of shellfish was about to end and stockpiling ought to begin.  Pella’s gathering tasks must surely already be assigned to one of the younger girls of the tribe, and the thought struck her with such a profound sorrow she immediately cast about for something else.

            The watch caught her eye, glinting golden as it caught the reflected light of the meager fire.  She offered Edgeless an apologetic smile, before gesturing to the watch again.

            “So, why does it make that noise?”

            “Hmm?”

            “The pockerwatch.  It’s… clicking, I think.  Or tapping?  Does it have a heart?”

            “Ah.  Ticking.  I don’t think it really has a purpose.  I suppose it lets me know it’s still working.  That the pointers are still going ‘round.  Most clockwork does that.”

            “What’s… clockwork?”  A shadow crossed over Edgeless’ face a moment, and he thoughtfully took a bite from one of the dried apricots, as if trying to rid a bad taste from his mouth.

            “Well, it’s… hmph.  Think of a cart.  You know how two wheels on the same axle turn together?  They both go or neither goes?”  Pella nodded. “Imagine a whole series of wheels that all turn each other, in different ways, to make something happen.  In here are little wheels, and they turn little things, like the pointers.  In Cog, there are big wheels, that turn… well, big things.” he finished, lamely.  He looked up to catch her reaction, and snorted with amusement at her skeptical look. “It’s true, look.”  He drew out his seam knife and, with a deft twist, popped the back plate off the watch.  There was a metallic ding as it swung open, revealing layers of tiny, nestled gears.  Which stopped.

            Pella gaped and drew back.

            “You… you killed it!”

            Neither Pella nor Edgeless felt much like sleeping, so with their scanty dinner half-eaten and the fire left to burn low, they watched the slow turn of the stars.  The pocket watch was in Pella’s lightly folded hands. Once she had been reassured that the device was not dead, that it could not feel pain, and that it didn’t know or care who held it, she found the steady dance of the gears to be a soothing distraction from the worries of the morning.  Her mind slipped easily into the layers, sinking down between the fine mesh of teeth and springs.  Edgeless had shown her which pointer to watch. Sure enough, as it rolled to the next notch on the dial, the rosy light of dawn began chasing away the last of the bleary stars.

            Edgeless had told her they would lay low for the first few moments of true sunlight, better to gauge the situation before setting out.  Despite her best efforts to draw some information out of the man, Edgeless remained terse about his plans for their escape.  She was beginning to doubt he had all the steps planned out. All he would concede was that, once they made their move, they would be in a full-out run for the cavalry he had arranged for, just in case.

            As she clicked the watch’s cover closed, Pella finally recognized the source of the nagging feeling that something important was being overlooked.  As she handed the watch back, she whispered to Edgeless.

            “Is it all right if I sing?”

            Edgeless faltered a moment at the strange request, pausing with one hand in his cloak.

            “What?”

            “I’m supposed to sing the song of morning.”

            “Mourning?”

            She gestured to the sunrise, and Edgeless grunted in comprehension.  He cast a glance over his shoulder to the plains to the east, where they would be making their mad dash. “All right.  As long as it’s fast.  And quiet.  No reason to make this too easy for them.”

            She nodded, and drew a deep breath.  Normally, the song would last the length of the sunrise, the melody folding in on itself in a rising crescendo, as the voices of her and the other children would rouse new life in the slumbering village.  The end of the song would mark the beginning of the morning chores, as members of the tribe would go out and forage for breakfast, pull in the nets, draw the water, and tend to the animals while they were still docile with sleep.  Sensing the tension in her bodyguard beside her, she kept it short.  As the last of the softly murmured notes died away, a few dark figures arose in the plains to the west.  Shaking off the dust and grasses, they began fanning out in a wide arc.  Seven figures, hunched and loping, their sun-lit silhouettes a yellow smudge against the fading purple of night.

            Edgeless’ calloused hand closed around Pella’s tiny wrist and, kicking dust in their wake, the two plunged madly into the rolling prairies, his crooked weapon cutting a swath through the grasses as their pursuers began drawing in the net.

            They cleared the edges of the prairie and drove into the salt flats without a moment of hesitation.  Their pursuers kept pace, herding them ever eastward towards the angry stormfront along the horizon.  Pella had heard of other tribes that hunted the prairie beasts like this, herding them until the mindless beasts simply dropped from exhaustion and fear.  She only dared one look back during their chase, and caught the sight of the nearest man: a large figure, loping easily in their footsteps.  He wore a large animal skin over his head and shoulders, but his clean-shaven face gave away the ruse.  He was of no local tribe.  The man’s face split in a mirthless grin, and Pella looked away, panic tingeing the corners of her vision as she struggled to keep up with Edgeless’ gaunt legs.

            As he ran, Edgeless scanned the horizon, straining to focus his vision as the salt flats opened before them.  A vast dust cloud hung over the lands to the north, being churned up by some large entity or entities hidden deep within the swirling sands.   The brown, swirling haze was angling away from the eastern storms, and seemed inevitable that, driven as Pella and Edgeless were, they were going to cross paths with it.

            Edgeless quickly turned to look the other way, and his hand tightened on Pella’s in excitement.  Pella looked up at him, face flushed with the effort of the chase, then followed his gaze to another plume of sand to the south.  A smaller funnel glinting in the sunlight, this new column of dust appeared to be the work of a single, impossibly fast beast.  Pella yelped as, with a sudden lunge, Edgeless veered towards it, feet cracking through the hardened crust of the salt flats.

            A sudden shrill whistling caused her to jump in fright, and she almost stumbled and fell before Edgeless managed to catch her and pull her forward.  She looked up, eyes wide at the shock, and saw the strange trilling  was coming from a thin, silver whistle Edgeless had in his mouth.  As he panted, the whistle gave off little, dying notes, but with massive effort, he managed to draw a lungful of breath and sound the whistle again.  The tinny sound hurt her ears, and she winced, forcing herself to look away.  Her eyes fell to the single plume of sand again. If it was merely crossing their paths before, it had clearly changed direction now, heading towards them on an intercept course.

            A low rumble was coming from the ground under their feet, growing in force to where they could feel the crusted earth vibrating under the pounding of their feet.  Pella swung her head back and saw the larger dust mass closing in as well.  Enormous, hunched shapes were silhouetted against the orange curtain, their heavy footfalls kicking up more of the blinding dust.  The single dust plume was now close enough for her to hear a low-pitched whine coming from its center, like the purring of some great cat as it ate up the distance to them.

            Edgeless’ turn had brought them almost completely southbound.  He had put himself between Pella and their pursuers and was making a line for that single plume.  The strange men had spread out, trying to encircle the two of them from the side the moment they stopped.  A few of them had drawn back, but didn’t slow their pace.  She felt the growing rumble of the stampeding beasts behind them and willed herself not to look around.  A glint of metal caught her eye from within the single contrail before them, and with a screech, the strange thing skidded to a halt before them.

            It was a narrow metal chassis, adorned with curved chrome plates and sporting an enormous, leather-backed seat.  A crossbar sat in the forefront, studded with odd discs and levers.  A single large wheel angled from the jutting front framework, and a pair of similar wheels flanked the machine just behind the seat.   Pella caught the glimpse of the word “Cavalry” embossed on the steel chassis, a moment before she was suddenly lifted by Edgeless who, without breaking stride, had scooped her up and set her on the machine’s broad seat. 

            Continuing the momentum of his spin, he drew his baton and managed to bring it up in time to deflect the desperate, lunging attack of the first hunter to close the gap. A second deflection drew the attacker’s blade upward, and Edgeless dispatched the man with a hard strike across his ribs, sidestepping out of the body’s way as it crumpled.  Turning quickly, he intercepted the thrust of the next hunter, and, recognizing it as a feint, jabbed the his weapon back blindly, catching the third attacker in the neck with the blunt hilt.

            He lowered his weapon to guard against the one who feinted, but before they could re-engage, the heavy thundering of the ground below them sent them reeling. They both turned to glance north, and each managed to backpedal wildly as the first enormous, shaggy buffalo charged between them, followed by several of its mindless, raging kin.  Pella shrieked and folded up in the leather chair, screaming over the deafening roar.

            “Go! Let’s go!”

            Edgeless spun free of a buffalo’s path as it thundered by, the beast’s great head taking a piece of his robe with it.  He lunged for the machine and leapt into the seat in front of Pella.  Still holding his weapon in one hand, he cranked the Cavalry’s handle and the machine roared with life.  Kicking up dirt, the tires spun, and with a forceful lean – almost losing his head to a buffalo in the process – Edgeless turned the vehicle into the flow of the stampede.  Pella clutched at his back as the Calvary kicked forward, and they were in the midst of the charging herd, keeping pace with the giant beasts surrounding them.  Pella blinked the dust from her vision, and saw a single, great rolling eye of one of the beasts over her, the whites visible in its shared panic.  She looked down, finally having a brief moment to wonder at the machine carrying them with such unbridled speed.

            She tugged at Edgeless’ side, and yelled.

            “Clockwork?”

            “Combustion!” came his enigmatic reply, and he cranked the handle further, driving her back into the seat as he begun weaving through the shaggy beasts.

            An anxious tingle ran through Pella, and she caught a glimpse of a different creature moving with the buffalo.  She tugged Edgeless’ robe again, and when he looked, the both saw a rider making his way through the tide of beasts towards them.  His horse rode steady alongside the buffalo, and he bore the markings of the plains tribe Pella knew her camp occasionally traded with.  She was about to assure Edgeless that the rider meant them no harm, when suddenly the youth raised a bow and sent an arrow whizzing right past Edgeless’ nose.

            Edgeless threw himself low over the handlebars and sent the Cavalry closer to the buffalo, using the great creature as cover as a second arrow flew overhead.

            “What’d we do to these guys!?” he shouted over the roar of the stampede.

            “I think we interfered with their ritual hunt!” Pella cried back.

            “You call this interfering?”

            An arrow flew from their right, sinking into the back of the leather seat, inches from Pella’s head.  Turning, Edgeless saw two more riders coming up alongside them, grim-faced as they dodged amongst the buffalo.  “Fine, let’s interfere!”

            Tucking his baton into the folds of his robe, Edgeless sent the Cavalry, engines squealing, next to the buffalo on his right.  Pella’s impression that he was seeking better cover was immediately shattered as Edgeless’s fist struck out, popping the buffalo in the eye.  The beast reared at the pain, and was immediately overrun by two of its kin.   The stumbling mass of beasts turned into a chain reaction, and an entire flank of the stampede peeled away in a tumbling riot.  Pella saw the warriors’ cry out as the avalanche of buffalo claimed them, horses and all.

            Taking advantage of the newly created opening, Edgeless drew the Cavalry out of the stampede.  He swore as a dozen more warriors followed them.

            “Another couple leagues and we’ll be fine!” he shouted back at Pella.  She turned and saw the leading warriors getting closer, standing over the sweaty backs of their horses as they drew their long hunting spears.

            “How can you say that?”

            “Your grandfather hired someone else to help us get into Cog!   We’re supposed to meet him at the edge of the storm, and we’re almost there!”

            Pella leaned around Edgeless’ shoulder, and the cold, wet splatter of raindrops hit her face.  She sputtered a bit, wiping her eyes, then pointed with sudden excitement.

            “Is that your friend?!”

            Edgeless followed the line of her finger, and swore again.  On the plains sat a small, boat-shaped vehicle, about a hundred feet long.  Protruding from the top was a giant, rippling balloon, swaying noticeably in the whipping storm currents.  From here, Pella could see the machine was made from bolted plates of thick metal, and bristled with fins in all directions.  Oddly, it was windowless.  Edgeless swore again.

            “How’s that stupid ape going to take us to Cog in an airship?  Nothing can fly to Cog!” He pounded his fist to his leg in fury, then winced. As if in response, thunder boomed directly overhead.

            “What’s an airship?” Pella yelled.  The wind had begun whipping wildly at her hair and tunic.

            Edgeless yanked the controls on the Cavalry in fury, causing the vehicle to tip onto two wheels as it angled toward the airship.  The riders behind them overran their contrail, then started angling back, shifting into a wedged hunting formation, spears at the ready.  With a screech of brakes, he pulled alongside the ship, then hammered on the hull with the butt of his weapon.

            “Open up!  Open up!  Hurry, we’re here!”

            Edgeless hopped off the Cavalry and drew his weapon from his robes.  The wind swirled about him as he stormed towards the riders, waving the baton in a threatening gesture.  He had to roll out of the way as the first warrior tried to run him down.  Edgeless came up in a crouch, and with a sweep of his baton, fouled the front legs of the second horse, pitching mount and rider into the dirt.  Pella screamed a warning at him, and Edgeless dove without looking, as the third rider’s spear scored a deep groove across his arm.

            Suddenly, Pella found herself flying through the air, as a big, meaty fist closed around the back of her belt and lifted her free from the chassis.

            “Edgeless!  Help!”  She turned in midair, and her cry turned into a genuine scream of fright as she found herself eye-to-eye with a giant, ape-like face.  Dark, beady eyes regarded her sullenly from a wrinkled, sloping face that was covered in an odd, fuzzy blue pelt.  The gorilla-creature smiled languidly, bearing massive lower canines.  Pella screamed again, and the ape rolled its eyes in annoyance.

            Edgeless turned at the screaming.  His last attack had dislodged another rider from a horse, and the warrior was limping away, clutching a broken leg.  Edgeless’ wounded arm had begun to grow weak, and he shifted to a single-handed stance, keeping his weapon leveled between him and the oncoming riders.  Without looking, he bellowed at the ape.

            “Go!  Go!”

            The ape paused, watching Edgeless close with another tribesman.  The swing of his baton caught the rider across the chest, bringing him over the haunches of his horse to tumble bodily into the dust with a groan.  Another warrior threw his spear, and Edgeless stumbled backwards, the spear-tip missing his neck and slashing across his chest.  His robes fell raggedly, flecked in blood, and he thought he saw a silvery item fall to the ground.  With no time to investigate, he threw his baton up, catching and deflecting a spear-thrust aimed at his midriff.  Edgeless drove the flat of his baton into the warrior’s face, and the youth stumbled back with a dark stain on his forehead. 

            “I said go!” he bellowed, turning to intercept a rider who had angled towards the ship. The rider launched his spear, and it clattered harmlessly against the ape’s hatch.  The ape grunted in shock, and ducked down into the ship, still carrying Pella at arm’s length.

            “Edgeless!” she yelped, then the hatch slammed shut with a airtight hiss.

            The riders had dismounted and closed with Edgeless, whirling spears over their head and voicing angry, undulating war cries.  Edgeless reluctantly backed up, losing ground.  He calculated the distance to the ship, hoping he could reach it before any of the warriors decided to hop on before take off.

            The ship rumbled, and its balloon let out a shuddering exhalation, collapsing in on itself and disappearing in a self-folding hatch.  The air-anchor gone, the denser-than-land ship sank into the ground like a stone dropped in a pond, leaving only the slightest ripples in the prairie dirt.  The warriors drew back with a shared gasp of fear, and Edgeless paused a moment to blink in stunned surprise.

            “Well, I didn’t know you could do that!” he raged at the rippled earth where the vehicle had sat.  The tribesmen had yet to recover, and seemed to having trouble deciding to point their spears at Edgeless, where the landship had sat, or where it possibly could pop up.  Ignoring their confused shouts, Edgeless quickly jumped onto the Cavalry and sped away, skirting the muddy line of the storm clouds where – he hoped – the angry hunters wouldn’t dare follow.

            Hours later, the hunters returned to the spot where the landship had sat.  Cautiously, spears pointed at the ground, they led some allied warriors from a strange, foreign tribe.  The strangers wore thick leather clothing under their ratty animal hides, and used clawed, metal clubs as weapon.  The leader of the strangers was a large, brawny thug with a tawny birdnest of a beard.  His arms were covered in jagged tattoos, and unlike the hunters from either tribe, a sword was tucked into his belt.

            One of the youths came up to this bearded stranger, and bowing often, he explained how the skirmish unfolded.  The bearded man listened with obvious impatience, only showing interest in the tail end of the youth’s story.

            “Sir, this is where they left.  The girl in the machine disappeared under the ground, like a mole, sir, and the warrior fled into the storm.  Our horses don’t like the storm, sir.” he concluded, apologetically.

            “What did you say the girl’s name was?” he mused, stroking his bushy beard with a broad hand.  The youth blinked.

            “We didn’t talk to them, sir!  They were trespassers!”

            “Unfortunate.  Nonetheless, you’ve done well to tell me.  Your reward, as promised.”  The man reached into his robes, and withdrew a slender telescope.  Their hunt on the plains now over, he wouldn’t be needing it to spy on the old man or the girl any more. He handed the telescope to the tribal boy, who accepted it reverently. The youth’s sun-tanned face widened in a grin, and he backed away from the warrior, kowtowing under his breath.

            “Ollrick, I found something!” shouted one of the men with the wrenches.  He jogged over to the bearded man and held up a thin, silver whistle.  Ollrick’s eyebrows raised slowly as he considered the tiny instrument.

            “Perhaps we’ll have good news for Venute after all.” he smirked.

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