WAYFARER: CLAIM THE UNCLAIMABLE

Sio slowly took in the unfamiliar landscape with the same fascination that had once kept him staring through train windows until Mira had to remind him they had passed their stop. He had studied places like this on maps and read travelers’ accounts describing kingdoms where water determined the shape of every settlement, but standing beneath the immense open sky was entirely different.

Angle observed him for a while before asking whether he had ever visited this part of the world. Sio admitted that he had not, then asked which of the five kingdoms they were currently standing in. Arch answered that knowing the exact territory would not help him yet, which immediately dragged Sio’s attention away from the landscape.

”You teleported me into a wasteland and won’t tell me where the wasteland is?” Sio asked. He sounded more offended by the missing information than by the fact that they had been deposited in the middle of nowhere.

”I brought you somewhere useful,” Arch replied as he checked the brass instrument again. ”Where we are and where we’re going are two different pieces of information. Until you need the first one, carrying it around only gives you something unnecessary to reveal.”

Sio searched Angle’s face for some indication that his father was being ridiculous. Angle merely adjusted one of the straps on his backpack and told Sio that Arch had made him learn the same rule years ago. Sio asked whether he still followed it, and Angle answered that he did whenever Arch happened to be right.

Arch looked mildly offended. ”I’m usually right, which should make this conversation considerably shorter.”

”That’s why I specified,” Angle replied as he started walking, and the ease with which he challenged his father made Sio laugh before following them.

They traveled through the wasteland for hours, following stretches of old road whenever the terrain allowed it and cutting across bare ground whenever Arch abandoned the obvious route. Sio and Angle spent much of the journey near each other, though neither seemed interested in forcing conversation. Sio occasionally asked about unfamiliar landmarks or expeditions Angle had taken with Arch, and Angle answered without offering much more than Sio requested. In return, Angle occasionally questioned him about the maps he had studied, particularly when Sio recognized the shape of an old road or guessed where water might once have run through the landscape.

Their differences became obvious quickly. Sio’s attention wandered everywhere because everything was new, while Angle seemed to notice whatever might become useful later. When Sio nearly stepped onto a patch of loose ground while staring at a distant rock formation, Angle caught the back of his backpack and pulled him away without breaking stride.

Sio examined the unstable earth beneath his boot before giving Angle an offended expression. ”I saw that. I was already planning to go around it.”

Angle released the backpack and briefly inspected the direction Sio had been walking. ”Of course. Your route just happened to point directly into it.”

Sio considered arguing, but the evidence was unfortunately visible. He thanked Angle for allowing him to preserve his dignity, and Angle informed him that preserving Sio’s dignity had not been part of the rescue.

The answer caught Sio off guard enough to make him laugh, and a moment later Angle did too. It lasted only briefly, but afterward the silence between them felt easier, and Sio found himself keeping pace beside Angle without consciously deciding to.

Hours later, a town appeared in the distance beneath the heat haze, wedged between two long ridges of sun-baked stone. Sio noticed the uneven rooftops first, followed by raised wooden walkways, faded signs hanging above storefronts, horses and lean pack animals tied beneath shaded posts, and a broad road of hardened earth cutting through the middle of the settlement. As they drew closer, newer water collectors and communication poles appeared among buildings weathered by years of dust and dry wind, making the place seem as though several generations had simply built over one another without bothering to agree on a style.

Sio adjusted his backpack and openly absorbed everything around him as they approached. He had seen pictures of frontier settlements built along old trade routes, but most had eventually grown into modern towns or been abandoned entirely. This place seemed stubbornly caught somewhere between those possibilities, with merchants shouting beneath cloth awnings while travelers rested beside water troughs and horses stamped impatiently against the dry ground.

Angle noticed Sio’s attention drifting from one side of the street to the other and warned him that he was going to walk into something again. Sio insisted that he was appreciating local architecture, which prompted Angle to remind him that he had used the same excuse before nearly stepping into unstable ground.

”It wasn’t a hole,” Sio muttered, still studying the buildings. ”And even if it had been, I would have noticed before falling.”

”It would have become a hole after you fell into it,” Angle replied, and the faint amusement in his voice made it obvious that he was enjoying the argument more than he admitted.

Before Sio could answer, Arch slowed ahead of them and allowed his attention to roam across the street. A group of merchants were arguing beside a loaded wagon, and one of them complained loudly that he should have stayed in Arven rather than coming all the way out here. Arch passed them without acknowledging the conversation, but several streets later he stopped beside an older woman arranging dried goods beneath an awning.

He politely asked whether she knew the quickest road to Arven, adding that someone had warned him the eastern trail was unreliable. The woman corrected him immediately and explained that the trail had been repaired months ago, then gave him detailed instructions involving two red stone formations and a northern turn beyond them. Arch thanked her warmly and continued down the street.

Sio followed until he realized they had already passed the road she indicated. He checked over his shoulder to make sure he had not misunderstood, then leaned toward Angle and asked whether Arch had just requested directions to Arven. Angle confirmed that he had, and when Sio pointed out that they were now walking away from those directions, Angle merely agreed without offering anything useful.

The pattern grew stranger when Arch passed two men discussing work around a mining settlement called Bellscar. Several minutes later, he stopped beside a stable keeper and asked whether travelers could reach Bellscar before nightfall. The man laughed and told him they would need mounts unless they intended to spend half the night walking, then pointed toward rentals near the southern edge of town.

Arch thanked him and walked west instead.

Sio watched him for several seconds before speaking quietly to Angle. ”Now it’s Bellscar, except we’re not going south either. I’m beginning to think he enjoys asking for directions purely so he can ignore them.”

Angle kept his attention on Arch, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him. He admitted that it certainly looked that way, and when Sio accused him of already knowing what Arch was doing, Angle only said maybe.

That answer confirmed it.

Instead of asking again, Sio began studying Arch more carefully. The older man rarely seemed to invent a destination himself. He listened while passing stalls and groups of travelers, remembered place names that surfaced naturally in conversation, and used those names later with people who had nothing to do with the original discussion. Sometimes he asked for directions, while other times he wanted to know about lodging, transport, water, or the condition of a road. Every question sounded perfectly ordinary when heard alone, yet Arch almost immediately did something that contradicted the answer he received.

By the third occurrence, Sio understood enough to lean closer to Angle. ”He doesn’t care where any of those places are. He wants people to remember that we asked about them, so anyone coming behind us gets several different stories without Arch needing anyone to lie.”

Angle gave him a small nod and explained that people often remembered a destination more easily than a face. Someone asking questions later might hear Arven from one witness, Bellscar from another, and something completely different from the next person, leaving them to decide which piece of information mattered.

Sio glanced back across the street. ”And we’re going to none of them.”

”Probably,” Angle replied, which made Sio immediately question the choice of word.

Angle finally smiled. ”Dad hasn’t told me where we’re going either.”

For some reason, that made Sio feel considerably better. He admitted that he had been starting to think he was the only idiot traveling without a destination, and Angle told him he would not go that far.

Sio stared at him while Angle continued walking as though he had said nothing unusual. It took another second for Sio to realize he had been insulted, and by then Angle was several steps ahead.

Sio hurried after him and complained that Angle was becoming considerably more annoying than he had been that morning. Angle pointed out that Sio was also talking to him much more than he had that morning, and Sio reluctantly admitted that the two developments might be connected.

The town grew busier toward its center, where several roads met around a broad watering square. Travelers rested beneath long shaded roofs while merchants called prices from temporary stalls, and groups of Wayfarers mixed among ordinary people without the clean uniforms or rigid organization Sio associated with the Central Nexus. Arch spoke with several strangers as they crossed the square, each conversation casual enough that Sio would not have noticed anything unusual if he had not started paying attention.

He began recognizing patterns in who Arch chose to approach as well. Shopkeepers, stable workers, vendors, and anyone whose work kept them near the same stretch of road seemed to receive more questions than travelers who would disappear within the hour. Angle appeared to notice the same pattern, because once Arch moved ahead, he quietly asked Sio how many different destinations had been mentioned so far.

Sio counted them from memory and answered four. Angle told him it was five, naming one Sio had missed when Arch briefly asked a food vendor about a western caravan route. Sio immediately argued that a caravan route did not count as a destination, and their debate lasted long enough that Arch finally called over his shoulder to ask whether either of them still intended to travel with him.

They eventually reached a two-story inn near the western side of town. Its weathered wooden sign hung above a broad entrance, while a balcony wrapped around the upper floor and overlooked the dusty street. Inside, the air smelled of cooked meat, old timber, and cheap alcohol, and several travelers occupied tables downstairs loudly enough that nobody paid much attention when three more entered.

Arch gave the innkeeper another name and booked one room for the night. He paid without negotiating, asked when breakfast was served, and casually mentioned that they intended to leave toward the eastern road in the morning. By then Sio had learned enough not to believe a word of the destination.

Their room upstairs contained three narrow beds, a washbasin, a small table, and one window facing the street. Sio set his backpack beside the bed nearest the wall while Angle left his beside another and tested the window latch with the absent familiarity of someone who had done it a hundred times. Arch placed his own pack near the remaining bed, though instead of sitting down, he lingered near the center of the room as his attention sharpened.

The brass instrument appeared in Arch’s hand again, and Angle noticed it almost as quickly as Sio did. Arch crossed toward the window without positioning himself directly in front of it, studied the markings for several seconds, then moved to the opposite side of the room and checked again before returning toward the door.

Sio sat on the edge of the bed but kept his attention fixed on him. ”Something wrong? You’ve checked that thing more since we entered town than you did through half the wasteland.”

Arch did not answer immediately. He listened toward the hallway for a moment before examining the instrument again, and when he finally spoke, he admitted that something about the town had bothered him almost from the moment they entered. At first he had dismissed the feeling as caution after everything that happened at the Central Nexus, especially because a busy trading town naturally produced repeated faces and people moving along similar streets.

Angle moved away from the window and asked whether Arch still believed the repeated faces were coincidences. Arch told him he was not certain what he believed yet, and that uncertainty bothered him more than any specific person he had seen.

Sio retraced the town in his memory, this time remembering people instead of buildings. ”Was that why you kept asking for random directions? I thought you were just making the trail confusing.”

”That was already the plan,” Arch replied. ”Once something started bothering me, I paid more attention to what happened after each conversation.”

He explained that a man he had noticed near one of their earliest conversations appeared again near the watering square despite taking a different street. Another person had left shortly after Arch mentioned Bellscar and later appeared near the western side of town, while a third face had remained far enough away that Arch could not decide whether he had actually seen the same person twice.

None of the details proved anything by themselves, and Arch made that clear. Together, however, they formed enough of a pattern that he was unwilling to ignore them.

Sio’s attention drifted toward the window as he remembered how openly he had been staring at everything when they arrived. ”So someone could’ve been watching us the whole time while I was admiring buildings, and I would’ve been helping by looking like the easiest person in town to recognize.”

Angle reminded him that he had also nearly walked into another post. Sio gave him an irritated expression and said he was glad Angle remained focused on the important part, which earned the faintest hint of satisfaction from him before his attention returned to Arch.

Angle asked whether the watchers had followed them into town or noticed them only after they arrived, and Arch admitted that he did not know. Leaving immediately would answer nothing, while reacting to suspicion without understanding it could make them easier to manipulate.

Sio regarded the three beds. ”So we’re staying here tonight, even though you think somebody might be watching us.”

”For now,” Arch replied. ”We booked a room because I wanted somewhere controlled enough to watch what happens next. Running every time something feels strange is a good way to let whoever is behind you start choosing your route.”

That made sense, though Sio was beginning to dislike how many useful lessons came attached to reasons he might die. He drew his backpack closer to the bed without thinking about it, and when he checked Angle, he found him already doing the same while testing the door lock.

Sio asked whether Arch expected anyone to attack tonight, but Arch refused to guess. Whoever was watching might be a bounty hunter confirming identities, someone hoping to sell their location, a Nexus operative, or merely a traveler whose movements happened to look suspicious after a very bad week. Arch warned them that inventing an enemy before they had evidence would only make them interpret everything according to whichever possibility frightened them most.

Sio leaned back slightly against the wall and admitted that he had thought the day was going surprisingly well. Angle told him that he had thought that too early, which made Sio point out that he had never actually said it aloud.

”You looked like you were thinking it,” Angle replied, settling on the bed opposite him. His expression carried just enough amusement that Sio immediately accused him of becoming far more talkative than he had been when they left Cali’s house.

Angle pointed out that Sio kept starting the conversations, and Sio had no immediate answer to that. The quiet satisfaction on Angle’s face made the silence afterward considerably more annoying than it should have been.

Arch returned to the chair and studied the brass instrument once more before looking at both boys. ”Stay alert tonight. I was hoping we’d finally get some sleep, but I have a feeling we’re going to spend most of the night figuring out who has been watching us.”