Karavans by Jennifer Roberson

son will bring her back.”
    It sounded uncaring, but Audrun understood Davyn’s priorities; a proper map drawn by a man who knew the land so well was invaluable. And Gillan
would
bring Ellica back. If they still lived at the farmstead, she wouldn’t be concerned about Ellica’s sulks and tears and abrupt departures. But here, in a strange place, they could not afford to leave her to herself.
    Jorda’s man hitched one shoulder in a slight shrug, then turned back to explaining the crude map on the dirt. “We’ll cross the river—here—first thing tomorrow morning.”
    Long fingers moved deftly, indicating routes. “Then we go here, along here, up to here. You turn off
here
, onto this smaller road—do you see?”
    Audrun saw Davyn’s brief nod, intently focused on memorizing what the guide laid out for them.
    “But if you turn off here, as you have planned to do …” His expression was serious. “This is the shortest route. But another might promise more safety.” He grimaced briefly. “If such can be found anywhere in a province newly conquered. But if you remain with the karavan a while longer there is less risk.”
    Davyn shook his head. Audrun noted a peculiar intensity in the guide as he squatted over his map. And his eyes, dark in the dusk, seemed to be waiting.
    “I do know,” her husband said finally, aware of the guide’s concern. “But we must. That route is shorter,
and
less likely to attract Hecari.”
    Rhuan said quietly, emotion banished from his tone, “That route skirts very near Alisanos.”
    “Yes,” Davyn agreed, nodding. “And it is because that route is used so infrequently, if at all, that I believe it offers us more safety.”
    “The Hecari are only one among many dangers. Better to face them than risk being overtaken by Alisanos.”
    Audrun looked more closely at the guide’s face, then glanced at her husband, trying to keep the sudden concern from her features.
    Davyn, grim-faced, saw it regardless, but did not react; he turned to the guide once more. “We have discussed it, my wife and I. We will go.”
    The guide held Davyn’s gaze a moment, then glanced at Audrun. “It matters to me that everyone is kept safe.”
    She believed him; she had seen how he was with the youngest of her chicks, treating them neither as children nor as adults. As if they were merely humans, deserving of respect. And because of that, because she wanted him to think she wasn’t wholly ignorant, she resorted to saying what struck her as obvious. “But a road
is
there, just as you have drawn. If it were so very dangerous, would they have put it so close to the deepwood?”
    The guide’s faint smile suggested he had expected the question. “They didn’t.” Graceful hands dangled overbent, leather-clad knees, knife clasped loosely. Beadwork adorning fringe glinted in firelight. “The road was there first. Alisanos came later.” He seemed very relaxed, yet Audrun had the impression the guide was anything but. “You come from a region of Sancorra that Alisanos hasn’t threatened in—”
    Davyn broke in roughly, “We know what it is.”
    “—hundreds of years,” Rhuan finished, unperturbed by the interruption. “And it has been forty years since the deepwood shifted so much as a pace. Folk have grown accustomed to it being
there
, as I have drawn it.” He indicated the crosshatched area. “Generations have been born knowing precisely where Alisanos is, and how to avoid it. But too many have forgotten its greatest threat.” His eyes were very steady, as was his voice. “Alisanos
moves
. It is sentient, as much as you or I, for all it is a place. And we cannot trust it.”
    GILLAN CAUGHT UP to Ellica before she got too far away from the wagon, though she had managed to reach the narrow footpaths winding through the tents. Dyed oilcloth, lighted from within, glowed dully in the twilight, marking his route. Gillan was irritated and impatient; the stranger, who swore he was neither demon