Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

was no sign of any human intrusion.
    Once again Hazel had been and gone. He’d missed her again. And yet there’d been no trace of any damage on this world, nothing like the devastation she’d visited on Heartworld. What had brought her here, to a place so far away from everywhere? Owen looked round sharply. Someone was coming. After a while, he heard footsteps approaching, and a young boy calling excitedly after baying hounds. And finally a dark-haired boy of about ten came running down the narrow trail, following two loping hound dogs. He called out sharply to the dogs as he spotted Owen waiting, and the hounds immediately crashed to a halt. They studied Owen suspiciously, panting heavily, as the boy came slowly forward to stand beside them. He had a sword on his hip. Owen gave the boy his best reassuring smile.
    “Hi. I’m Owen. I’m just visiting.”
    “Offworlder,” said the boy, taking in Owen’s clothes. He was dressed in roughly stitched furs over a plain tunic. “We don’t see many tourists these days. And mostly we like it that way. You’ve come a fair way from the starport. Are you lost?”
    “No,” said Owen. “Just . . . seeing the sights. Can you tell me your name?”
    The boy grinned briefly. “Ma always says I have no manners. I’m Giles VomAcht, of Hadrian City. My father is war master there. And these overeager boys here are called Hunter and Tracker. Because that’s what they do.”
    The hounds looked up as they heard their names, and Giles petted their heads till they settled again.
    “Out hunting?” said Owen. “What are you after?”
    Giles grinned again. “Anything that moves, really. We’re not fussy. We just love to hunt. We catch enough for good eating, and let the rest go. What are you doing here, Owen?”
    Owen grinned. “Following a trail. Just like you.”
    Owen and the boy Giles sat down by the side of the trail, and talked together for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Owen found the boy easy and engaging, and the boy was eager for news of other worlds. The dogs settled down at their feet, yawning and scratching themselves as they waited patiently to get back to the real business of the hunt.
    “Don’t you have a Clan name, Owen?” said Giles, after a while. “Family is important. The VomAchts rule in Hadrian City.”
    “Of course. I am Owen, head of Clan Deathstalker.”
    “Damn! Now that’s a Clan name! Deathstalker . . .” The boy said it several times, savoring the length of the name. “I’d love a name like that. A warrior’s name. Where do you come from?”
    “Most recently, I was at Ethur’s court, on Heartworld. I had an audience with the Emperor.”
    Giles spat on the ground and said a rude word, and the dogs stirred uneasily at the sudden anger in the boy’s voice. “He’s not our Emperor anymore. We broke away. This is our world now, though the Clans are still arguing over what to call it. We don’t miss Ethur, or his Empire. They never did anything for us.” He frowned heavily, sticking out his lower lip. “Too many freaks and mutants in the Empire these days; that’s what Da says. It was supposed to be a human Empire.”
    “What do you want to be, when you grow up?” said Owen.
    “A warrior, of course! Like my father. I don’t get to see him much; he is often away, needed in the wars. Fighting to keep our city safe. I wish he had more time for me. I know, it’s selfish, but . . . When I am grown to a warrior’s age, I will fight for our city too. I will make him proud of me. Make him take notice.”
    The boy’s brooding face belied his steadfast words, and Owen decided to change the subject.
    “Giles, have you seen anything . . . strange, recently? Anything unusual? Probably right around here.”
    “Yes!” Giles said immediately. “A couple of months back. I saw an angel, right here, in the woods!” He looked at Owen carefully, to be sure his new friend wouldn’t laugh at him, and then reassured by what he saw in Owen’s face, he continued. “At first, I could only feel her presence, watching me. Then she became a bright light, shining down on me, and finally a glowing woman. Very pretty, with red hair. She didn’t have wings or a halo, but I knew she had to be an angel. I could feel the power in her. You believe me, don’t you, Owen?”
    “Yes,” said Owen. “I do.”
    “No one else does.” Giles shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I know what I saw.”
    “Did the angel . . . say anything to