Tethered Spirits

by T. A. Hernandez

  Chattering delightedly amongst themselves, the three boys headed back to the market street with their prizes clutched in tight fists.

  “So,” Kesari said, returning her attention to Amar and the others. “You’re looking for Tamaya?”

  “We’ve been looking for her all day,” Amar grumbled. “No one here will tell us anything.”

  She stooped to pick up her basket of eggs. “She doesn’t like to be disturbed, and the locals don’t like to get on her bad side.”

  “Why?” Mitul asked. “Are they afraid of her or something?”

  “Sort of. She’s easily the most powerful Tarja in this province, and one of the most powerful healers in Kavora, maybe in all of Erythyr. Someone whose good graces you want to remain in, especially if you might need a favor from her someday.”

  “But you can help us find her?” Saya said.

  “For a price.”

  Saya’s lips pressed together in a thin smile. “Of course.”

  Kesari shrugged. “A girl has to put a roof over her head and food in her belly somehow.”

  “And you’re not worried about getting on Tamaya’s bad side?” Amar asked. “If everyone else is, why not you?”

  “Oh, I’m not from here,” Kesari said. “Just a traveler passing through, like you.”

  “Then how do you know where she lives?”

  Kesari shrugged. “I’m persistent. It took some time, but I found her home. I’ve made the trip there several times now.”

  Amar reached for his coin pouch. “How much do you want? Tell us where she lives, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “It’s better if I take you. Make sure you find it all right.”

  “Fine,” he replied shortly. Maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to trust a stranger—especially one as odd as this girl—but they’d wasted enough time already. “How much?”

  “Twenty jitaara.”

  Amar bit back a retort about extortion and counted out the coins. It was nearly everything he had left, and Mitul and Saya didn’t have much more. With a grudging twist in his stomach, he dropped them into Kesari’s waiting palm. “Lead the way.”

  2

  Aleida

  It was nearly sunset by the time Aleida and Valkyra rode into Tarsi. Despite this, the market street was still noisy and crowded as vendors called out reduced prices and promises of quality in an attempt to make a little more coin before nightfall. Aleida slowed her horse from a gallop to a walk and patted his sweat-dampened neck. “Good boy. We made it.”

  The horse only let out a soft snort in response, probably too tired to do much else. Aleida slid off his back and wrapped the reins around her hands. She’d pushed him hard this afternoon, hoping to reach Tarsi before nightfall. Her quarry couldn’t be too far.

  All they had to do now was find him in the teeming mass of people that packed the street ahead.

  “Where should we look?” she asked Valkyra.

  The small, furry dragon pulled her tiny claws free from the shoulder of Aleida’s tunic, where they’d dug in to allow her to maintain her perch even with the horse’s jostling strides. She unwrapped her tail from around the base of Aleida’s neck and stretched her white, silky body before responding. “Start asking around. Maybe one of the vendors saw them earlier.”

  Aleida squeezed her way into the crowd with the horse following along behind her. He was easily the largest animal in the market, and their passing disrupted the natural flow of foot traffic. More than a few people cast irritated glances in their direction. Several times, their expressions only darkened further when they saw who was leading the horse.

  “No shame, dear,” Valkyra whispered in her ear. “Not for them.”

  “Not for anyone,” Aleida finished.

  She held her head higher and set her mouth in a firm line. Let them stare. Let them take in the sight of her ash brown hair and pale blue eyes shining against even paler skin—features that immediately marked her as Visan. Features that so often drew confusion and even hatred into the gazes of the Kavorans around her. But she could handle their stares along with their judgments, so let them judge.

  No shame.

  Besides, the fact that foreigners were a rarity here could work to her advantage. The things that made Aleida stand out in Tarsi were the very same things that would make her quarry stand out, too. The man who couldn’t die had the same black hair and deep brown skin as these people, as did the musician. But their other companion, a Sularan warrior, was as much an outsider here as Aleida and would have drawn just as much attention.

  A stern-faced old woman met Aleida’s gaze for a moment before shifting her attention back to her work. Chickens squawked in cages lining the wall behind the woman. Others hung by their necks from the top of the stall, already plucked and ready for cooking. The smell of blood pressed against Aleida’s nostrils as she approached the stall.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m looking for some people who may have passed through here. There’s a young man and a Sularan woman, both about my age. The Sularan wears red paint on her face. They would have been with an older man, perhaps forty. He carries a saraj.”

  “I haven’t seen anyone like that,” the woman replied. She turned around and grabbed a struggling chicken from one of the cages. “Good fortune to you, though, and goodbye.”

  Her response was so quick and rushed Aleida doubted whether she’d really paid attention. “Please, if you could think about it for a moment. The older man may have played some music in the street, or—”

  “Are you going to buy a chicken?” The woman turned the point of her knife toward Aleida, her other hand still clutching the flapping bird by its legs.

  “I—well, no, I only—”

  “If you’re not going to buy anything, you should leave. Your horse is blocking my stall.”

  Aleida opened her mouth, but Valkyra’s feathery wing brushed against her cheek before she could speak. “Come,” the dragon said. “Let’s ask elsewhere. There’s no sense wasting any more time here.”

  Aleida shot the woman a parting glare before tugging on the reins and trudging forward.

  The other vendors were no more helpful, and some even less so. One man spotted Valkyra and, presumably thinking she was an ordinary pet dragon, grabbed Aleida by the wrist and led her to the back of his stall where several of the creatures sat in cages. Like Valkyra, they were furred and feathered, with long necks and horns curving gracefully behind their heads, but they were brown and gray and black instead of white. Aleida told the man she didn’t have the money to buy one and wasn’t interested in breeding hers, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. At least, not until Valkyra bit his finger. Aleida ran from the stall so quickly she almost left her horse behind.

  Irritated by this encounter, she continued down the street, repeating her questions with even less patience than before. Everyone she talked to quickly dismissed her. All they seemed to care about was money. Unless her quarry had handed some over to one of them, they’d probably stared right past him and his friends.

  The sun sank lower, and Artex painted a sunset of peachy oranges and rosy pinks in the sky. It was gorgeous, the kind of sunset that deserved to be watched and admired until it faded into night, but Aleida didn’t have time. So much time had already slipped away from her, and she was still no closer to finding the man who couldn’t die. She had to keep going.

  Still, she spared a moment to offer a silent prayer to her god. Please, Artex, help me find them. As an afterthought, she added, And thank you for the beauty you’re sharing with us this evening.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to rest?” Valkyra asked.

  “Not yet,” Aleida replied.

  “You’ve been pushing yourself so hard these last few days. You must be exhausted.”

  “I’m fine.” She would have to be. And besides, whatever fatigue she felt now was nothing compared to what Tyrus was going through.

  “We can always start fresh in the morning. If it turns into another fight,
you’ll need your strength. We’re outnumbered.”

  “I said I’m fine.” This was her chance, so close she could almost feel it in her fingertips. She wouldn’t let her own weakness be the thing that held her back. For Tyrus’ sake, she couldn’t afford that.

  The merchants were starting to pack up their wares now. If there were any answers to be found here, she was running out of time to find them. She approached the closest man, who was packing fresh vegetables into a handcart. “Can you spare a moment to talk? I’m looking for some people. Maybe you’ve seen them. There were two men, one about my age and one older. And a Sularan woman with red markings painted on her face.”

  The man continued his work, not even so much as acknowledging Aleida’s presence. This was a waste of time. He wasn’t going to tell her anything. She pulled on the horse’s reins, ready to walk away.

  “Wait,” the man said. He met her gaze for the first time, a greedy glint in his dark eyes. “Nothing in the markets of Tarsi is free, you know. Not even information.”

  “Are you saying you’ve seen them?”

  The man clicked his tongue and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together like he was holding a coin. Aleida sighed and reached for the small bag under the hem of her tunic. She counted out five jitaara—more than a quarter of the money she had left—and passed the coins over to the man. He counted them quickly and raised an eyebrow as if asking for more, but Aleida stared back at him coldly.

  “They were here earlier this afternoon,” he said. “Three of them, just as you described—a Sularan woman, a young man of about the same age, and an older man carrying a saraj. They were asking about Tamaya Takhar.”

  “Who is that?”

  “She’s the best Tarja in this region. People say she drew all the waters out of the Mayuka River to flood the enemy’s camp during the siege of Jakhat.”

  What could the man she hunted possibly want with such a powerful Tarja? Aleida pushed the question to the back of her mind and voiced a far more important one. “Where can I find Tamaya?”

  The man flicked one of the coins Aleida had given him into the air and caught it again. “Seems you’re trying to get more information than you paid for now.”

  Something cold and desperate uncoiled inside Aleida’s gut and slithered into her heart. She dropped the horse’s reins and took two steps closer to the man. Annoyance flickered in his eyes as she invaded his personal space. He opened his mouth, but her hand shot out and closed around his throat before he could speak.

  A frosty chill rose within her like a tidal wave, and she took a deep breath to quell her anger before channeling altma. The magical energy flowed through her Bond with Valkyra and into her limbs, lending her extra strength, which she used to shove the man against his cart. She brought her face to within mere centimeters of his. His eyes were wide, his lip quivered, and his pulse raced beneath her fingertips like a frightened rabbit.

  Valkyra’s tail lashed back and forth against Aleida’s shoulder, and she leaned in to whisper in her ear. “That’s it, dear, stay in control.”

  The man’s eyes darted to Valkyra and back to Aleida in sudden understanding. “Your dragon—it’s not just…you’re Bonded. You’re a Tarja.”

  “Let’s try this again,” Aleida said evenly. “I asked you a question, and you’re going to answer me. Where can I find Tamaya?”

  The man sputtered and continued to squirm beneath her grasp. “I can’t. She doesn’t like outsiders. If I make her angry, she—”

  Aleida drew on more altma, this time channeling it into an electric jolt that tingled in her fingertips. It shot out in tiny, blue sparks to shock the merchant. He whimpered in pain, and Aleida’s conscience winced, but she didn’t heed it. She couldn’t afford to, not when she was closing in on her quarry. No shame. No guilt. Not for anyone.

  “Right now,” she said, “you’re making me angry. And you don’t want that, do you? Tell me where she is.”

  “East,” the man rasped. “Outside the city.”

  Aleida let go of his throat so he could speak more easily. “Go on.”

  He coughed a few times. “Follow the road until you cross over the creek. There’s a narrow trail that leads up into the hills. When you reach the falls at the top, go east again, through the trees. Her house is in a clearing not too far in. It’s a long trek on foot. If you hurry, you might catch up to the people you’re looking for before they get there.” He looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Tamaya never has to know I sent you.”

  “If you’re lying to me,” Aleida hissed, “you’ll have bigger problems to worry about than Tamaya.” She took hold of the horse’s reins, mounted, and wheeled him around to head east. Everyone they passed stared, but now their expressions were full of fear rather than disdain. They backed away and pressed themselves against each other as she rode by.

  A gentle whisper brushed against Aleida’s conscience. She shouldn’t have used her magic to intimidate the man like that. He was only trying to make a living, like anyone else. And for that, she’d hurt him. She’d damaged another one of Artex’s most precious creations simply because she’d been too impatient to come to an understanding with him.

  We are all children of the Artist, beautiful works created by His hand. It’s our duty to treat each other accordingly. Mama’s voice, a memory as clear as still water in Aleida’s mind.

  Guilt floundered inside her like a fish dragged out of the sea. Torturing a man for any reason wasn’t something the girl she used to be would have done. It wasn’t something that girl would have even considered. But between the invasion of her homeland, her parents’ deaths, Tyrus’ illness, this pursuit—somewhere along the way, she’d let it all turn her into a person she barely recognized.

  But that was who she’d had to become to survive. The girl she’d been before never would have been able to claw and fight and scrap for not only her own life, but her brother’s as well. The girl she’d been before would have given up on saving Tyrus long ago, as soon as the hunt became too difficult. The girl she’d been before would have put all her trust in ideals that offered nothing but vain hope and quickly shattered comfort to those foolish enough to cling to them. The girl she’d been before was weak, and Aleida hated her.

  A small part of her also mourned that girl’s passing.

  Valkyra shifted on her shoulder, settling back down into a relaxed, sprawling position. Her claws hooked into the fabric of Aleida’s shirt. “You handled that situation well. I sensed your anger, but your power was perfectly controlled.”

  “I scared him.”

  “Was that not the objective?”

  “It was. But I shouldn’t have hurt him.”

  “Oh, my darling, you only did what you had to do.” Her voice was as soft and soothing as the fur that brushed against Aleida’s cheek. “There’s too much at stake to waste time on other people’s comfort. You saw the way they looked at you. Do you think he would have hesitated to force answers from you if your roles had been reversed?”

  “No.”

  “Then don’t let it trouble you. Focus on what lies ahead. What will you do when you catch up to the man you seek?”

  Aleida set her jaw, recalling the disastrous outcome of their fight four nights before. The musician had never been a threat, but she hadn’t bargained on going up against a Sularan warrior, and the man who couldn’t die was a better fighter than either she or Valkyra had anticipated.

  This time would be different, though. This time, she wouldn’t give any of them a chance to fight back. “I’ll take them by surprise,” she said to Valkyra. “And then I’ll kill them all.”

  She urged the horse into a gallop. A short stretch of road and some hills were all that now stood between her and the man who couldn’t die. Only once she had used his power to save Tyrus’ life would she finally allow herself to rest.

  3

  Kesari

  The journey to Tamaya’s house wasn’t a particularly difficult one, and the three strangers Kesari had
picked up in Tarsi could have found it well enough on their own if she’d given them directions. But this would work out better for everyone. Sure, she was selfishly using them for her own gain, but escorting the trio to Tamaya herself meant they’d be spared some time and guesswork along the way. As an added bonus, they could potentially provide her with a chance to earn Tamaya’s favor, and Kesari needed Tamaya’s favor. A rewarding arrangement for all involved, and one she’d played out with other travelers on at least half a dozen prior occasions.

  Of course, none of those occasions had panned out the way she’d hoped, but Kesari had a good feeling about these three. She glanced back at them, trailing behind her on the narrow path through the forest, and smiled to herself. Yes, there was something very unique about these three. Something special. The kind of special that might finally capture Tamaya’s interest.

  “How much farther?” Amar asked gruffly as he reached Kesari’s side. Of her three new companions, he was the one she kept the closest eye on. He didn’t seem to like her very much; his dark eyes had watched her with suspicion from the moment they met. His face was fixed in a stern frown that made him look much older than he really was—only a couple years older than her, if she had to guess. An ancient-looking sword with a basket hilt hung at his waist next to a modern flintlock pistol, and he carried himself with the quick, strong grace of a fighter. Not someone she wanted to cross.

  “We’ll get there a little after nightfall,” she told him.

  On that note, Tamaya probably wouldn’t be pleased about receiving visitors so late, especially if they turned out to be unremarkable. Kesari needed to find out more about them before they arrived. She didn’t want to irritate the old woman any more than necessary, and she could always slip away if need be, once she brought the three travelers safely to their destination.