“You’ll be in danger too, don’t forget that. From what I can see, you aren’t more than close friends. Why bother going with her at all? If you don’t agree with her decision to go, why get mixed up in everything?”
Tomias had been toying with those questions, shuffling them around in his mind. He was risking a lot going with Kirheen to Val’shar. No matter what they did or didn’t do, there was a chance they’d be pulled into the turmoil, forced to pick sides in a war they still knew little about. It was no benefit to him to get wrapped up in that tangled web, but neither would it have been a benefit to sit in a barn and wallow in his guilt and sorrow.
And there were his feelings to take into consideration. He couldn’t have let Kirheen do this alone, to make such a journey by herself. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was capable. She was incredibly intelligent and resourceful. Her strong will and inner fire would see her through just about anything. He admired her spirit. He’d gone with Kirheen because the thought of not seeing her, of not being by her side after everything they’d been through, was simply unthinkable. “I’m going because I care about her a great deal. I want to help her find her family and I’ll do everything I can to see that it happens.”
Fay looked sad as she said, “If you care about her, then convince her to turn the other way. Don’t support such madness. It can only end in tragedy.”
“You don’t think I’ve tried? The thought of her coming to harm kills me. She’s her own person though. I can’t stop her from doing what she feels is right. We’ve talked about it. I’ve asked her over and over again and she hasn’t changed her mind. I’m not going to pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and haul her back to safety. I’m not going to tie down her soul and keep her from the world. It isn’t my place to do so, but it is my place to choose to stay by her side through it all, despite the danger to myself.” He hadn’t realized he’d raised his voice until he stopped talking.
“Such sacrifice isn’t going to earn you her love. That heart is wrapped in thorns and you may never see it bloom.”
Tomias ground his teeth and tried to keep his voice level as he said, “You think I don’t know that? This isn’t about my feelings. This is about her. Friend, lover, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be there for her.”
Fay gave him a sad smile and reached out to pat his hand. She grabbed his glass, filling it with more of the honey colored liquor. “You’re a good man, Tomias. You’ve a good heart, just see that you keep it protected. Don’t let Val’shar corrupt you like it has so many others.”
He accepted the glass and glared into the swirling amber. He wanted nothing more than for his thoughts to leap from his head and drown in it. Fay said nothing more, simply busied herself behind the bar while his thoughts played with his emotions like a ball of yarn. There was movement out of the corner of his eye, and he lifted his head, breath catching in his throat as Kirheen came down the stairs.
Her hair was braided, a few loose strands curling gently around her face. Fay had seen fit to provide her new clothing, a simple blue dress that hugged her curves and stopped just above her knees. Her bare feet brushed against the carpeted stairs, her hand dancing across the railing as she made her way towards him. He tried to look away, to not ogle, but he found it hard to turn his attention elsewhere. She looked beautiful.
“Kir, you look…great. Did you get enough sleep?”
She looked towards him, surprise skewing her features. Her jaw dropped and she raised a hand to cover her open mouth. “Tomias?”
“Uh, yeah?” My hair… “Oh, I guess I do look a little different.”
Kirheen smiled. “That might be an understatement. It actually looks really good,” she said. “I forgot what you looked like under all that hair.” He rolled his eyes and returned her smile. It was a big change for him, a major step in becoming his own person, and it helped having her approval.
She stepped to his side, sliding into the seat to his left. He cast a sideways glance her way and frowned. Now that she was closer, he could see beyond her beauty. Her eyes were swollen and red as if she’d been crying. He opened his mouth to ask her about it only to have Fay shoot him a glare that was all daggers. Fine. Ask later, I guess. Kirheen seemed nervous, sitting on the edge of her seat as far from him as she could get. It was almost as if she wanted nothing more than to flee back up the stairs and stay hidden in her own world, her own thoughts.
She chanced a questioning glance towards Fay that didn’t slip past his notice and the old woman merely smiled, passing her a glass of the same golden ambrosia she’d given Tomias. She took a tiny sip, her face lighting up with pleasure. He was just about to speak when the door to the inn swung open with a loud creak.
Kirheen looked to the door and her eyes widened with surprise. There was a squeal, a dropping of bags, the sound of boots on the wooden floor, and then Abby nearly tackled them out of their chairs. Burk’s laughter followed close behind.
CHAPTER 14
“Welcome to Sharmir,” Barog grinned, waving a hand at the land mass coming into view. The ship cut a sharp line through water so blue Garild thought his eyes might be deceiving him. The sky was a mirror image of the cerulean waters, great puffy clouds floating lazily above a land of lush trees and blazing white sand.
At his side, Isa watched the water rippling past, her eyes as vibrant as the sea. Her dark curls were pushed away from her face by the breeze and she smiled as a gull went streaking past the ship, wings spread wide. “It’s so beautiful,” she said. She turned her attention to the approaching shoreline. “Where is the city?”
Barog nodded his heads towards the thick line of trees, a dense canopy of green weaving together into an impenetrable wall. “Hidden in the jungle. You can only reach it by traveling up that channel there,” he said, pointing a jeweled finger. “Sharmir was built to be a refuge. It does not need to show itself to the world, to flaunt its size and power. The city is as much a part of the jungle as the trees and plants and animals. I think you may be surprised by what you see.”
The ship slowed and the crew began running and shouting, preparing to drop anchor. Trista appeared on deck, several packs slung over her shoulder. Her red hair shone in the light of the sun, a vibrant corona of fire that caught the attention of all she passed. Her expression was guarded, her eyes trailing after the men that darted past. She approached Garild on wobbly legs and dropped the packs at his feet with a resounding thud.
Now that she stood before him, he could tell just how tired she looked. The skin around her eyes was tinged purple, dark circles evidence of nights spent awake. She’d stayed locked away most of the trip, hiding in a room below deck. They’d been worried that maybe she hadn’t been ready for such a trip, that she hadn’t been ready to leave her ties to Taverin behind. “Trista, you look tired. Everything okay?” he pressed gently.
“I’m fine,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut as the ship rocked. “I just wasn’t meant for this,” she said, motioning to the ship. “My feet weren’t meant to leave land.”
“You’re…seasick?” he questioned. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say anything? Isn’t there something you can take?”
Trista glared at him. “I don’t have a magic herb for everything. What I have available didn’t help.” The ship shuddered and Trista lurched to the side, her hands grasping the edge of the ship in a white knuckled grip. She breathed in and out slowly, eyes shut against the world. He felt terrible knowing she’d been sick the entire trip. They’d been on the boat for almost a week. No wonder she locked herself away.
Isa gave her mentor a sad smile and gently patted her on the back. “Is there anything we can do for you, Trista?”
“Just get me off this thing,” she groaned, resting her forehead against the ship.
Barog let out a bark of laughter as he approached. “What do you have against my ship, lovely healer? She but rocks the soul and lulls the body into a peaceful state. She is one of the finest ships you’ll ever stand upon.”
Trista groaned again, louder than before. “My stomach disagrees.”
“You poor thing. I can soothe you back in my quarters. You’ll forget the rocking of the ship soon enough.”
Isa looked shocked at the implication, her hands rising to cover her open mouth. Garild glared at Barog but he ignored it, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Trista growled in annoyance and spun towards him, arms crossed over her chest.
“I’d sooner throw you over the side and let you drown in the sea you so love,” she spat, fixing him with a glare that made Garild take a step back.
Barog, amused by her words, merely grinned. “The offer still stands if you change your mind,” he purred, giving her a wink before stepping away to help his men.
“Well, he’s gross,” Isa stated, eyeing Barog with distaste as he walked away. “Remind me to stay very far away from him.”
Trista shook her head. “He’s a toothless idiot. Harassing me is one thing, but if he starts harassing you, I really will throw him overboard.”
They collected the rest of their belongings, hauling them from the lower deck and piling them in the small boat they’d take upstream to Sharmir. As the ship was anchored offshore, it struck Garild that he was really in a different place, miles and miles away from the land he’d known. His friends and the life he’d once lived were far behind him and he felt a twinge of regret as he thought of the people he might not see again. Kirheen appeared in his mind, ashen hair and stormy eyes, a mischievous smile on her lips. He locked away the image in his head. It wasn’t the time to think about her, not when there was so much before him to discover. The laws, the customs, and the people would be different in Sharmir. There was so much he didn’t know, so much to learn. It was pointless to focus his attention on what he’d left behind.
Once the ship was safely nestled in the bay, Barog returned and shot Trista an oily grin. “I’ll have you know, my redheaded enchantress, you’ll be off my ship soon enough. In just a few moments, they’ll drop the boat that we’ll take to Sharmir. I, the strong, handsome man that I am, will be your guide upriver. I hope you do not mind the company.”
Had her teeth been clenched any tighter, Garild was certain they would have shattered. She huffed out of her nose, her green eyes shooting daggers in his direction. “I do mind, actually. I don’t tend to share my personal space with swine.”
Barog put a hand over his heart. “Oh, my lady, such wounding words you throw my way. No matter. I forgive you. You’re too beautiful for me to stay angry for long.”
Trista threw up her hands and turned away from him, stomping off angrily towards the other side of the ship. Isa shot Barog a look that told him another word and she’d personally melt his mind into a puddle. With no one left to torment, Barog turned to Garild. “You keep such beautiful company for being so young. Where did you pick them up?”
By the Allseer, don’t pull me into your mess. “They are friends of mine. Trista is a mentor to me. I’d appreciate it if you’d quit messing with her.”
Barog grinned. “And the cute raven haired one?”
“She has a name, you know,” he growled. “It’s Isa. She is Trista’s apprentice, an apprentice that is one wrong word away from poisoning your drinking water, if her glare is any indication. Listen, I paid you a fine sum to get us here. I appreciate what you’ve done, but I paid you to transport us, not to try and sweet talk my friends.”
Barog gave a slight bow, his face wounded. “My apologies, Garild. I meant no harm. The two of them merely seem…distant. Hurt, even. The past dogs their heels much as it does yours, and I only wish to lighten their spirits. Sometimes such banter is the only way.”
They’d been through so much. He’d been through so much. It was no wonder such pain hovered around them like a cloud. Barog could see it and sense it, was merely reacting to it the only way he knew how. “I appreciate the sentiment, Barog, but don’t. They’ve been through more than any person should. They’ve lost things that nobody should have to. So please, stop making them uncomfortable.”
All humor dropped off of Barog’s face. He gave a solemn nod, his eyes drifting to the two women he’d pestered relentlessly over the past week. “I will be more considerate of their feelings.”
Garild said nothing, just gave a curt nod and rejoined his companions. Isa cast him a weary glance, her expression practically begging to know what he’d said to Barog. He shook his head. “Later,” he said softly. There was a splash from the side of the ship as their little boat was dropped into the water below. A quick climb down the netting and they’d be on their way to Sharmir. Such a task wasn’t hard for Isa. She climbed down the netting with swift, sure fingers. One of the deck hands helped her step into the boat and then she was seated, waiting for him and Trista to make the descent.
Trista looked ill. “Ugh, if I thought just standing here was bad, climbing down a swaying net is sure to do me good.” With a hearty sigh, she swung her leg over the edge of the ship, her hands gripping the netting tightly. Her pace was slow and steady, but he could hear her groan on the way down, every lurch of the ship forcing her to close her eyes in a poor attempt to stop her stomach from protesting. She finally reached the bottom and took a seat next to Isa.
Garild was the next one down and he stared at the netting, then looked at the rounded stump where his hand should have been, a hand that could have gripped with ease and gotten him through the task set before him. It was the simple things that ate at him, the silly day to day experiences that he no longer could do, at least not easily. He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat, his left hand curling into a clenched fist. Barog was by his side, hand gripping his shoulder tightly, dark eyes radiating a silent understanding. “Would you like me to help you down?” he asked gently.
Garild considered his offer - considered it and found that it only stoked the coals of his anger. He didn’t want help. It shouldn’t have been so difficult. He stepped to the side of the ship, peering over the side. It wasn’t a long climb. It would be difficult, but he could make it. He wanted to make it without help, without someone guiding him along and making him feel insignificant.
“I will go, you can follow,” said Barog. “I see the determination in your eyes. I won’t stand in your way.” Strong fingers squeezed his shoulder and then Barog was swinging himself over the side, taking a steady pace towards the water. Garild gripped the netting with his left hand, feeling the weave of the rope beneath his fingers. You can do this, Garild. Come on. Don’t make a fool of yourself. Just show them you aren’t worthless. Show them you can still take care of yourself.
With difficulty, he pulled himself over the side, fighting down a wave of panic as he reached with his missing hand and nearly slipped into the churning waters below. He hooked his feet into the netting and gripped tightly with his left hand. His pace was agonizingly slow. Each step down was a struggle, a mental reminder that he was missing a hand by which to hold the swaying net. Down and down he went until he could hear the rumble of the ocean beneath his feet, could feel the salty mist kiss his face, his hand, and the exposed skin of his forearms.
A set of strong hands reached out, helping him onto the boat. Nobody said a word as he took a seat, acting as though nothing had happened, but across from him, Isa gave him a heart-warming smile that spoke for them all.
“Everyone ready?” Barog asked. With a round of nods, he and one of the deckhands took to paddling towards the channel, arms used to the rigorous work. Trista had her head in her hands, groaning as the small boat rocked and swayed. For what it was worth, Barog didn’t harass her about it. Isa sat quietly beside Trista, her hands in her lap. Her blue eyes were unfocused, lost in some other time and place.
The boat slid into a wide, gentle river. Massive trees, with white bark and broad green leaves, twisted on either side of the bank. All around them was an explosion of life; lush ferns, thick underbrush, and great billowing flowers in every color imaginable. The air was alive with the calls of animals he couldn�
�t name, and he could spot brightly colored birds fluttering in the canopy above them.
It was a place both awe-inspiring and terrifying. It was rich with life, so filled that you could study the place endlessly and still find something new around each corner. He watched the green world around him with bated breath, unable to fully comprehend that which surrounded him. It was a place of beauty, perfect for hiding the knowledge of the world.
The river snaked ahead of them, disappearing from sight as it rounded through the trees. As they turned the bend in the river, Garild heard Isa gasp. Further up the river was a construct of white stone that shimmered in the sun light. It was a dock of some sort, held up by beautifully carved pillars. Long, sheer curtains of the softest blue flowed with the wind, covering the empty space between them. The river cut right through the center of the construct, a path just wide enough for a small boat.
As they neared the strange structure, a man became visible on the platform. There was an audible click, and something rose out of the water up ahead, a thin panel of stone that blocked the way past the dock. Barog slowed them, easing them into the station with practiced ease. Another stone rose behind them, keeping them from floating back down the river. The man watching them from the platform was tall and lean, his brown hair pulled back into a low tail. Clothing, loose and light, rippled in the breeze. He approached the edge of the platform, his eyes brimming with curiosity. On the outer edge of the platform, a man and a woman stood watching, not with curiosity, but with caution.
“Ah, well this is a bit of a surprise. My greetings to you all. My name is Rand and I welcome you to Sharmir.” He gave a polite bow before continuing. “If you’ll permit the intrusion, what brings you here? We haven’t had many visitors as of late.”
Barog stood, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder. “Got a few refugees from Taverin looking for a safe haven.”
The Allseer Trilogy Page 42
