by L. R. W. Lee
I pulled my arm from her clutches. I needed space. Passionate kisses weren’t accidents.
Ali finally composed herself, placing her hands in her lap and sat staring at me, no doubt collecting her thoughts. Mother’s ring glinted on her finger in the firelight. It seemed a dozen annums since I’d given it to her after professing my love. Now it mocked me, shouting what a fool I’d been.
“Kovis, I love you and only you with my whole heart. Not Kennan, but you. My father knows that, and he’s jealous. I’m not the naïve little girl I once was, and he wants to destroy us so he can have my affections all to himself again. At least he thinks he can.”
I met her gaze. “Your father is a brilliant strategist. With all due respect, I understand why he said what he did. That doesn’t excuse what happened. I thought we had an understanding that we would always be completely honest with each other, but apparently I was mistaken.” I shook my head. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve lost my appetite. I’m going to turn in.”
“Kovis….” Her voice fell silent.
I couldn’t make sense of that kiss. Treachery from my own twin. My heart felt like it was shrinking.
I blew out a long breath and refocused on our situation, right here, right now. It was the only way I could cope. Regardless of what had happened, Kennan was still my brother and had protected us. He was again possessed, but the fact that he’d run despite Ambien’s will told me he still had some control. He wouldn’t come back, not this night. So unless the god had another means of attack at hand, there was no point in risking our, or our mounts, necks moving in the middle of the dark. My wards would alert us to any surprises. I just prayed kinder gods protected Kennan. My chest tightened.
I checked the dryness of the pelts and, finding the moisture nearly gone, used my Air magic to finish the process on two of them. I flipped one over and set the other atop to form a fur-lined bed. I wouldn’t sleep, not at all, my stomach was in knots, but at least I’d be comfortable.
I hadn’t said anything more, and I wondered what Ali would decide to do when she retired. But I wasn’t surprised when she followed my example with two pelts of her own a while later. Wise decision. I lay on my back and feigned sleep while she dried her bedding. I didn’t want to interact with her. None of the reasons we’d originally taken to sleeping together mattered anymore. This would be the first time in moons we wouldn’t share intimacy, and I was okay with that. I huffed, had we ever?
My stomach remained cramped even after Ali’s breathing slowed a long while later. Glad one of us could sleep, the mocking thought drifted across my consciousness. My thoughts still raced and twisted with all that had happened. Funny, I’d thought my life was improving. My heart had begun to thaw as I let her in to see the real me, and then this happened. What an idiot I was. Bile rose in my gut.
My mind tormented me, rehashing so many moments with her that I’d taken comfort in. Had they all been lies? How could she have kissed Kennan passionately? How? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How could he have romantic feelings for her? I was his brother. How could he do that to me? How long had it been going on between them? And under my nose.
I needed to think on something else or I’d make myself sick. Despite what had happened, we still needed to work together to stop her father from conquering Wake. Tonight’s events would add an extra measure of challenge, but it wasn’t a question, god or not, Ambien couldn’t control Wake’s citizens. And clearly Ali’s sister needed rescuing. Then there was the question of survival. I knew from the annums I’d been at the front in the wars that, if we split up, we’d never make it on our own out in this inhospitable wilderness—some beast was always looking for an easy dinner. No, we would need to somehow come to an understanding and work together. Too much was riding on us.
Regardless of my thoughts about Ali, she had been right about needing supplies. Autumn was lengthening, and winter might well arrive before she figured out how to get to Dream. We’d need blankets and warmer clothes at a minimum. And I wouldn’t complain if we managed to get coffee in the process.
But as of tonight, we had another problem. Kennan had run off to protect us, but her father now knew where we were. We’d need to get a long way away from here before his minions arrived, because I knew he would send them, if he hadn’t already given the order. Perhaps we could tackle both problems at the same time.
My thoughts shifted to what we’d need to do to stop Ali’s father once we reached Dream. It was a subject I’d mulled countless times while Ali practiced her magic as we rode, but I hadn’t yet settled on a plan. I knew next to nothing about Dream, nothing but what Ali had told me, and I hadn’t yet gotten creative enough to form a coherent strategy. We’d be fighting at least one god, Ambien. Who knew if other gods supported him. Or, even if they didn’t support him outright, would a family member or relation be rankled if we tried to stop him? I’d been thinking through the legends of the gods I’d been told countless times as bedtime stories by a nanny or two. They weren’t beings to take lightly. I shuddered to think what we’d face.
Even if we had just one god to fight, Ambien was powerful. How exactly did one stop a god? The only thing I’d come up with so far was to ask Dyeus to intervene. He was king of the gods. Surely Ambien would have to obey him, right? It didn’t escape my notice that Dyeus had killed his own father to gain his position, and I held great respect for him as a result. Hopefully, Ali or one of her relatives would have enough influence to make a request for his help, because I wasn’t naïve enough to believe one could just waltz into his throne room and ask.
The sky lightened to gray. My mind was still a swirl of unanswered questions, but some of my initial anger was subsiding. I still didn’t care to hear Ali’s weak excuses, but I was resolved to work with her, although I’d learned my lesson. I would guard my heart once more while we did—guard my heart and block my mind from her. I’d been experimenting. I was done opening myself up. It only led to pain.
I woke with the light, for the first time in moons, not shivering. But in the blink of an eye, the situation came front and center as I found myself alone between the two layers of skins—the skins of my mortal enemies, not Kovis, had kept me warm through the night. How ironic. I pushed back the wave of sadness that threatened to crash over me. It would do no good. Kovis had taken the news as I’d feared he would, which was why I’d never brought it up. I’d been a wimp, too scared of his reaction. A groan escaped me. My lack of courage had cost both of us. He was right to be upset. If he’d done the same with another lady, I would have felt betrayed too. But I wasn’t Dierna. I was in the wrong and would make it up to him—if he’d let me.
I glanced over to see that Kovis had risen, dressed, and had much of our camp packed on Alshain and Fiona, including four of the pelts that we’d use to pay for supplies. I only hoped a night of rest had opened him to hearing the truth of what had happened between his brother and me.
“We need to move out quickly,” Kovis informed me a heartbeat later. “No doubt your father has already dispatched troops to capture us. We need to get as far away from here as possible. Breakfast is on the fire. Eat while I pack up the last of camp.”
No humor. As serious as a dragon on the hunt. My hope of talking it out this sun evaporated. I prayed the situation wouldn’t last as long as before. I didn’t know if I could endure that, especially out in the middle of nowhere with no one else to talk to.
Kovis seemed to be walking fine, not favoring his right leg, as he finished packing up. That seemed the only positive, although he’d have a scar.
He took to petting the horses whose back sides were mounded high with the bulky pelts. Despite being rolled up, the purple-furred skins would come to at least the middle of my back when I sat in the saddle, if not higher. Thankfully, the horses didn’t seem to mind. They continued munching leaves from the trees they were tethered to.
I finished breakfast and spread out the coals to extinguish our fire. My sticky, sap-coated hand made it harder,
but I managed. Kovis’s body was loose as he talked to and stroked Alshain, but in the blink of an eye, as I approached, he tensed.
I stopped beside Fiona. “Would you please help me up?” I reached up, ready to grab the horn when it came level.
He came around behind me and, without a word, placed his hands on my waist. There was none of his usual playfulness or taking liberties with a few of my other parts—he used my vulnerability to tickle me, and I usually ended up shrieking, amusing him greatly, before I sat atop my mount. A heartbeat later, I perched in the saddle and he turned back to untie our horses.
Kovis handed me my reins, mounted his stallion, and with a clicking sound, moved Alshain into the dense forest. Fiona followed without protest. We needed to trade these pelts for supplies, but with things as they were, I wondered if he’d decided not to. Who knew what this sun would bring… other than an overabundance of silence. That seemed assured.
Kovis had mentioned several suns before that he believed we’d reached Astana province. The territory had been the second to fall in his father’s conquest of the seven territories surrounding the magical Elementis empire. Its people, insorcelled, or nonmagical, lived by a proud warrior code that I’d first learned about during The Ninety-Eight. Nomarch Norman presided over this region from its capital, Rothan, in the north, on behalf of the empire.
Unlike Elsor, which had grown strong by building infrastructure with the infusion of money from the empire, Astana hadn’t seemed to fare as well. Whether it had been squandered or the nomarch had grown rich at the expense of his people, I didn’t know. It just seemed primitive. At least that was my impression from the areas we’d skirted so far. Kovis had said its capital was much nicer and that he’d purposely kept us away from civilization.
I sure hoped so because my heart went out to anyone who had to live this way. Perhaps I was just done with the whole outdoor life, but to have to do this annum round… definitely not for me.
Kovis sat up straight in the saddle ahead of me. Normally, such a posture set me on edge because it’s what he did when he sensed danger, but I doubted that to be the case. I checked our bond, but it felt cold and lifeless. He’d blocked it somehow. I’d have to ask him how sometime. Probably something to do with desire, or in this case desiring not to have anything to do with me. I sighed then continued picking at the dried sap still coating much of my hand. It was becoming a habit, but I was making some progress. I turned my focus to the woods. All was peaceful. I wished I could say the same of myself and my thoughts.
The longer the silence between Kovis and I stretched, the more antsy I grew. I needed to distract myself. I decided to practice nuancing my Air affinity. It would consume my attention, I had no doubt. Leaves had turned colors and dropped with the changing of the seasons, and there was no shortage of them scattered along either side of the path. I closed my eyes and pictured lifting just one leaf and drawing it to myself, like I’d attempted countless times before.
I would figure this out. I put the reins in my sappy hand and held the other out, palm up, feeling the air as it flowed between my fingers. I’d usually send it crashing into my target at this point, but I waited and let the air continue flowing across my hand. I concentrated until a picture filled my mind: it felt like threads of air cocooned it like a living glove. If I could send just one finger’s worth of air at the pile, surely it wouldn’t scatter all the leaves about. Then I could work on grabbing just one. But first things first. I imagined redirecting the air flowing around my pointer finger toward the leaves littering the right side of the path.
The puff of air stirred up a handful of red, orange, and gold leaves. Fiona didn’t complain about the disturbance. “I did it! Kovis, I did it!”
Kovis remained a statue atop Alshain. I stuck out my tongue. It didn’t matter. It was the first step, and I’d finally done it. I’d celebrate my success.
Now, to grab just one leaf and float it to me. I continued practicing until we emerged from the forest into a sloped glade and I had nothing more to practice with. Waist-high grasses grew sparsely, like the hair atop a balding man’s head. It looked like giants had played a game of catch, because boulders were randomly scattered across the undulating hillside.
The sun had just passed its peak when Kovis pulled Alshain to a halt. I drew even.
“I believe Sanis is just over that ridge,” he informed.
I wouldn’t ask how he’d deduced that; it was the first thing he’d said since sun up, and I wouldn’t risk silencing him. I was just glad to hear he still planned to attempt to trade for supplies.
“If any citizens attended The Ninety-Eight, they will have returned a moon or two ago, and the village may not take kindly to us if they know we’re sorcerers.”
Of course! How could I not have realized? Rasa’s declaration about ending The Ninety-Eight, an event that celebrated the proud traditions of the insorcelled provinces, hadn’t gone over well. It had never occurred to me that we’d be attempting a trade with these same folks who had felt shunned. My conversation with Nomarch Kett during the championship dinner had opened my eyes to seeing more than one view of their traditions, most of which at first glance seemed barbaric, and I’d purposed to learn more, but this didn’t seem the time.
“Our dress will give us away. We’ll need to borrow a few clothes.”
We’d been wearing our leathers since we bolted out of Eslor. I’d grown accustomed to them despite their inadequacies with the cooling temperatures. Mine were certainly well worn by now—they’d abandoned their creaking ages ago. “And how do you propose we do that?”
“They hang wash out to dry.”
I gave Kovis a long look, but he made a clicking sound and eased Alshain into a trot. Fiona followed. He had a plan. It was more than I’d known of his thoughts all sun.
We’d need two blankets at this rate. I frowned then stopped myself. No, I deserved this. Kovis’s hurt and silence were my fault. I should expect nothing less.
Warmer clothes. Maybe coffee. I forced myself to think on these little luxuries, and my spirits lifted. I just hoped the pelts fetched a good sum despite their color.
I saw the first humble homestead as we crested the hilltop. The dirty gray house, which I guessed had originally been white, looked as old as time itself. It leaned toward one side, like someone resting against a wall, except there was no wall to support it. Its roof dipped in the middle. Chickens pecked about the yard. The skeleton of a barn, which hadn’t been so fortunate, had collapsed and its bones jutted up at odd angles not far away.
A ways on, we approached another sorry farm, nearly identical to its neighbor. The scene repeated itself multiple times. But I knew that we’d nearly reached the village when houses began to be situated closer together and were in better repair.
Kovis stopped his stallion behind a pair of ancient shade trees and dismounted. Such towering giants were scarce in these parts, and he must have figured they would be about the only cover for the horses. At least that was my theory. I checked our bond to see if I was right, but he continued to block me. The ache in my heart grew.
He helped me down from Fiona without a word then tied the pair to a low branch. I crouched beside them, mirroring him as he scanned the area.
Several hundred yards away, the road passed by a shortish stone wall. On the far side of the wall stood a one-story wattle and daub home. Sticks, twigs, and grasses had been woven together to form its walls, then covered with mud. Two clotheslines stretched across much of the ample yard—they were what had prompted our stop. It must have been wash day for the lines sagged under the weight of a plethora of men’s, ladies’, and children’s clothes.
I felt guilty. Nearly all of the garments bore patches. These people needed what few clothes they possessed.
“We’ll return them, don’t worry,” Kovis whispered. “We’re only borrowing them.”
He’d listened in to my thoughts. Maybe there was hope for us yet.
He scanned both directions up and
down the road then focused his attention on the line. Dust stirred in the yard. He was using his winds. I prayed the homeowners didn’t notice. A heartbeat later a clothespin leapt from the line, then another, freeing a girl’s lavender print dress that shot across the road, right to me. I caught it.
“See if it’s the right size.”
I held it up. “I may be small, but I’m not this small.” The dress looked to be for a child with its narrow waist and bust.
Kovis motioned to give it back to him, which I did, and he whisked it back across the wall and replaced it on the line. It wasn’t quite how we’d found it, but it would do. He retrieved a woman’s sky-blue dress next. It would be a bit long on me, but it would have to do. He floated a pair of brown trousers and a coordinating long-sleeved, collarless shirt over for himself. Our boots would have to do because we had no other footwear options. Good thing the skirt was long.
I moved Fiona away from Alshain to give us room between them to change. I had become comfortable naked with Kovis in the wilderness but had no desire to expose myself to strangers, and the pair provided adequate covering. I stripped off my leathers, down to my braies, then hoisted the overlarge woolen dress over my head and let it fall. Roomy would be an understatement as I attempted to adjust the bust to cover my breasts and not my midriff. Thankfully work dresses were usually loose and this one had a sash. I’d stuff the excess fabric into the skirt, then tie it. Hopefully I wouldn’t need to move much, or it would come out.
Kovis watched but said nothing as I removed my ring. It would look out of place, but it pained me all the same as I put it in the bottom of my saddle bag so nothing would happen to it. My finger felt naked.
I rewove my braid. No sense in looking like we’d been living in the wilderness. My hair had grown out again, and I’d taken to wearing it that way. Kovis preferred my hair down and loose. He said its unusual light blonde color made him want to run his hands through it. And he had. Frequently. Not that he’d be looking to do so this sun. My sadness grew heavier as I finished my braid. At least it was functional and kept my hair out of the way. It would make me fit the role of the impoverished citizens we needed it to.
