Chapter 21

  A Fisher of Men & Daggers

  Hiwot turned her attention to the fisherman, arms still folded. Sabo could tell she was doing her best to hide the fact that this man’s sudden presence had surprised her as well. “And where exactly did you come from?”

  The man grinned, his pale eyes bright with amusement. “Oh, that’s a tricky one. I like to think I was born in a river. Or at least, I swear I remember rushing water. Maybe I’ve just grown so accustomed to the sound, walking alongside this one for so long now. He lifted his fishing rod, examining the empty line. “Not that it’s done me much good. You’d think I’d be better at this by now, but alas.” He sighed dramatically, then flashed another sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. “Clearly, I’m a better fisher of men than actual fish. And, apparently, blades as well.” He tossed Reiner’s dagger over his shoulder. The blade spun through the air, landing somewhere in the brush behind him. “Strange talent to have, but we take what we can get, eh?”

  Sabo stared. This man is insane. Growing up, he had occasionally heard of the wild man who would live in the woods. Though most people in Solstice chalked it up to a drunk farmer or rancher, and not an actual wise man wandering the wilderness. Sabo had imagined they would be much like this man, though he didn’t quite convey ‘forest’ vibes. In fact, he looked more shipwrecked or stranded. He wondered if that’s what he and Hiwot looked like. He glanced at the white-haired young woman, who had, for everything they’d been through, seemed fairly well put together.

  Hiwot, however, wasn’t amused in the slightest. Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I meant. I asked how you got here. Just now. You weren’t with that group, were you?”

  The man’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, no! I wasn’t with them. That would’ve been quite sad, wouldn’t it? To be abandoned by my own party like that?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no, I came from the coast. Been traveling inland for some time. Funny that you mention Hecate’s Tower, though—that’s actually where I’m headed as well. Glad I ran into you two. Seems like it’d be better to join some folks rather than wander alone.”

  His grin widened, and he extended a hand. “Name’s Gagan. Either of you any good at fishing?” He gave his fishing rod a little shake.

  Sabo just blinked.

  Hiwot didn’t take his hand. She didn’t even look at it. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her posture rigid.

  Yeah, she’s not buying this either.

  Sabo sighed. This was going to be interesting.

  Hiwot’s glare hardened. “You’re dodging the question.”

  Gagan tilted his head. “Am I?”

  “Yes. How did you sneak up on us?” Hiwot pressed. “I swear you weren’t here. And then, suddenly, you were.”

  Sabo crossed his arms, shifting uncomfortably. “I noticed him. But then… it was like he vanished from my mind until he spoke again.”

  “Oh! Right, my apologies,” Gagan said, snapping his fingers as if just now recalling something trivial. “You two are Soulsingers, yes? I dabble in the craft myself. I have a Skill called [Fade on the Horizon]. It’s not quite an illusion—more like a . . . gentle push on the mind. Makes people’s attention slip right past me, focus elsewhere.” He grinned, rubbing the back of his head. “Truth be told, I’m not great at controlling it. Sometimes it’s on when I don’t mean it to be. Other times, I really want it to work and—poof, nothing.” He shrugged. “Bit embarrassing, honestly. You’d think the amazing power of being forgettable would be a little more cooperative.”

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  Sabo and Hiwot locked eyes. A silent conversation passed between them.

  Sabo turned back to Gagan. “Would you mind giving us a moment?”

  Gagan raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender and took a few steps away, whistling as he wandered toward the riverbank, his fishing rod swaying in his grip.

  Sabo leaned in close to Hiwot. “I think we take him with us.”

  Hiwot’s brows shot up. “Are you insane?” she whispered harshly. “A man with a Skill like that? He could slit our throats while we sleep, and we’d never even know he was there.”

  Sabo hesitated. A part of him knew she was right. But still… there was something about Gagan. Something that felt trustworthy, even if the man himself was—well, clearly not all there. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if the trust was another effect of a Skill or Spell. Was he being manipulated in that very moment? He sure as hells hoped not.

  “It would be better to have someone like that right where we could keep an eye on him,” Sabo reasoned. “As opposed to trailing us unseen.”

  Before Hiwot could respond, a familiar sensation crawled across Sabo’s chest. The skin just below his collarbone split apart, revealing the grotesque maw of Eater.

  “We should eat him,” Eater rasped, its voice thick and hungry. “That Skill would be useful and it should be ours.”

  Hiwot smirked. “Lord Eater does make a valid point.”

  Sabo scowled. “We’re not eating him.”

  Eater’s many teeth curled into something resembling a frown.

  Sabo sighed. “He’s an innocent man. And he saved my life, even if by accident.”

  Hiwot crossed her arms. “That remains to be seen.”

  Sabo crossed his arms, mostly to cover Eater’s mouth and shut the damned thing up. “You said you wanted to follow the most interesting path. I think having this man with us would be interesting. Or were you lying before?”

  Hiwot paused and considered. “You’ve got me there . . . Fine. But we should be cautious. I’m not a fan of anyone or anything that could sneak up on me like that.”

  And so, it was settled. Sabo looked over his shoulder and shouted at Gagan, who had wandered decently farther down the bank of the river during his and Hiwot’s sidebar. “Okay, you’re coming with us!”

  Gagan did a leap of joy, clicking his heels together in the air.

  They followed the river as it wound through the landscape, its murky waters a constant, sluggish companion. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves, the sun starting its slow descent behind the trees.

  Gagan, ever the optimist, tried his luck at fishing three more times during their trek. The first attempt saw his bait, a worm he had dug up that morning and kept in the pocket of his jacket, stolen right off the line. The second attempt ended when he cast too enthusiastically and snagged his own tunic, nearly toppling into the river trying to free himself.

  “Either of you want to give it a go?” he asked, shaking his line free.

  “No,” Hiwot answered flatly.

  Sabo just shook his head. He had no patience for fishing and had also never done it before.

  On the third attempt, Gagan’s rod bent sharply, nearly yanking out of his hands. “Ah-ha! See? I knew I had it in me!”

  Then the line snapped. The rod split. Whatever he had snagged pulled away, taking the end of the line with it.

  Gagan fell onto his back, the broken stick clutched in his hands. He blinked at the sky, as though processing what had just happened.

  Sabo and Hiwot exchanged a glance.

  Gagan sighed. “I spent hours making that rod.” He stood, dusting himself off, then unceremoniously chucked the remains into the river. “Well! I think I might be a better forager anyway.” He grinned, as if he hadn’t just wasted an entire afternoon failing spectacularly.

  Foraging, however, did not yield much either. Gagan returned triumphantly with a handful of strange-looking mushrooms, which Hiwot promptly batted from his hands before he could shove them into his mouth.

  “Those would have killed you,” she muttered, brushing past him.

  “Would’ve been an interesting way to go,” Gagan said, watching the mushrooms roll down the hill. “Maybe I’m bad at foraging too…”

  By nightfall, they reached the forest’s edge. The land sloped into a valley where the river widened, its banks smooth and flat. A suitable place for camp.

  Sabo built a small fire, feeding it dry twigs and bramble they had collected while moving through the last stretch of forest. Hiwot worked methodically, dividing the last of their rations—a task she had taken to doing with no small amount of irritation. Sabo knew they had been low, but still insisted they shared with Gagan, much to Hiwot’s chagrin.

  Gagan sat cross-legged, watching her work. “Would this be a bad time to admit I’m also bad at cooking?”

  Hiwot shot him a withering look.

  Sabo sighed, staring into the fire. The road ahead was long, and food was running out. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about company.

  He poked at the fire. “So, Hiwot, before we stumbled upon that party back there, we’d been talking about Soulsinging. Something about Physical Enhancement?”

  Gagan raised a thick eyebrow at the mention. Hiwot sighed. “I’ve given it some thought. At first, I thought you were too new to the craft to attempt it. But if we’re going to climb Hecate’s Tower, we might not have time on our side. So, that’s what we’ll be doing tomorrow.”

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