Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure) by Nathan Lowell Page A

and rubbed some of the dust out of her eyes. “Just needed to rest a bit. Guess I’m not used to walkin’.”
    She saw Frank and Rebecca share a glance over her head, but before she could ask about it, the wagon rounded a shallow bend and she saw the source of the smell. A collection of buildings huddled around a crossroad. What should have been the town square was an unremarkable intersection of roads on either side of the hard packed Pike. On the far side of the crossroad, a coach pulled out of the waystation’s yard and thundered northward, disappearing in a cloud of dust that slowly settled in its wake. The driver looked like the same one that had passed them earlier on the road.
    “Foxrun,” Frank announced. “Mind your purse and keep your valuables hidden.”
    Rebecca laughed at his off-hand tone. “Is it really that bad?”
    He cast her a sidelong glance but rolled one shoulder in a shrug. “There’s worse, but it’s always a good idea to keep your eyes open when travelin’.”
    “I was expectin’ somethin’ more...prosperous,” Tanyth said, eyeing the ramshackle collection of hovels.
    Frank’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the village. “Somethin’ ain’t exactly right.”
    “What’s wrong, Frank?” Rebecca asked.
    “Not sure. Inn here brings in money. They gen’rally do a good custom. Tap room serves a fair pint.”
    “This don’t look like a prosperous town,” Tanyth said. “Not the best of times?”
    Frank shook his head slowly from side to side. “I been drivin’ this road for five summers now. That was the first time I ever been threatened.” He paused to glance over his shoulder at the road behind. “That wasn’t somethin’ I expected, so no, not the best of times.”
    Rebecca said, “First Birchwood. Now them? What’s next?”
    Frank shrugged again. “Dunno, but maybe Rupert’s got some ideas.”
    “Rupert?” Tanyth asked.
    Frank nodded, jerking his chin at a squat, solid-looking building beside the Pike on the other side of the crossroad. “Rupert Peabury. He runs the way station here. Good man with the animals. Keeps his eyes open, his mouth closed, and his ear to the ground.”
    “Sounds uncomfortable,” Tanyth muttered.
    Frank huffed a short laugh and Rebecca smiled.
    As the wagon rolled by the village, Tanyth saw big-eyed children peaking out of darkened doors. In one hut, a woman pulled the child out of the open door and back out of sight before closing the door. Here and there a chicken scratched and pecked in the dirt. Early summer weeds had taken hold and grew wherever careless feet hadn’t trampled them. The place was quiet enough that Tanyth heard the occasional grunt of a pig somewhere on the backside of the village even over the sounds of the wagon.
    “Not real friendly,” Rebecca said.
    Frank nodded but said nothing.
    On the other side of the crossroad, a wide barn with watering trough at the front and a paddock behind squatted beside the Pike. As the wagon approached, a solitary figure walked out of the way station and leaned against the open barn doors. The man kept to the shade so Tanyth couldn’t see much of him in the afternoon’s glare.
    “Rupert?” she asked.
    “Prob’ly,” Frank said.
    Frank steered the team into the yard and pulled up just in front of the building.
    “Well, well, well,” the man said, a crooked smile twisting his mouth to the side of his face. “Must be springtime afta all.”
    “Hey, Rupert. How was the winter?”
    Rupert sighed and shook his head. “Been betta,” he said and spit into the dust beside the barn’s footing.
    Frank turned his head to look the village over. “Seems kinda quiet.”
    “Yep. We had a spot o’ trouble. Kinda quieted things down a bit.” Rupert scratched his jaw where a patchy beard tried to grow. “Can’t be sure it’s ova, if you get my drift.” Rupert looked at his boots, lifting one to check the heel.
    Frank nodded. “I do.”
    Rupert squinted up and nodded slowly. “You