Kalas turned and studied her. She was speaking with a grudging respect for the Nazarien’s skill. It rankled. He shook his head and then looked back at Parish. Finally, he turned and walked away. This was all too much for him to absorb right now and he needed some time to process it.
* * *
Jarrett opened his eyes and watched as Zimran bustled into the room, carrying a tray with bowls on it. His head ached from their earlier audience with the Delphi, although the bleeding seemed to have stopped. He carefully raised himself to a sitting position and looked over at Tyla.
She was sleeping, but occasionally her body shuddered with a cough. The cough was different now, deeper, and he could hear the rattle of her breath. He tried to ignore the desperation he felt. He had so hoped the Delphi would be able to assist them, but they couldn’t even stay in their presence long enough to question them, or rather, he couldn’t.
Tyla didn’t seem to have that problem, but it terrified him to think of her going in there alone. She would just have to teach him how to block them, how to put up the barriers that obviously worked so well for her. He didn’t allow himself to wonder if her superior power was the difference, that would create so many problems for them. He had to believe he could do it, he could learn to block them out.
“Let me guess, more green snot,” he said to Zimran.
The Wryn stopped arranging the bowls and looked back over his shoulder. He gave Jarrett a warm smile. “Te respic melis.”
“Sure, I guess so.”
Tyla coughed, moaning in her sleep, and pulled her knees into her chest. He could see how rapidly she was breathing. The fever must have climbed while they both rested. Sliding over to her shelf, he laid his hand on her forehead. Her skin blazed.
He needed to heat some Stamerian for her, but so far, the only thing hot the Wryn seemed to do was bathe. An idea sprang into his mind and he reached beyond Zimran for the bowl with the rocks, dumping them on the tray. Zimran made a mewl of protest, but Jarrett ignored him, hurrying down to the bathing chamber with the bowl. He turned on the spigot to the setting that gave the hottest water and rinsed out the bowl. Then he filled it and carried it back to the room, settling it on the table and reaching for her pack.
Tyla opened her eyes as he hunkered down on the floor near her. They were glazed with fever and she covered her mouth to hide her cough. “What are you doing?”
“How about some hot Stamerian? I don’t even have to leave the dome to make it.”
She eased up on an elbow and watched him mix the red leaves into the water. “The bathing chamber?”
He nodded, then lifted the bowl to his own lips and took a sip. The liquid was almost the perfect temperature for drinking and he smiled at her. Immediately he felt the headache behind his eyes ease.
Holding it with both hands, he extended it to her. “Try it. Your fever is high.”
She swung her legs off the shelf and sat up, but the moment she did, a coughing spasm struck. Jarrett caught the bowl and sat down beside her, holding the Stamerian close to her face so she could breathe it in. Zimran handed him a small square of cloth and he passed it to Tyla. She pressed it to her mouth until the spasm slowly passed away. When she withdrew it, a splotch of bright red lay in the center. He covered the blood stain and removed the cloth from her hand.
“Come on, sweetheart. Drink this.”
She took a few swallows, but her eyes kept going back to the cloth. “It’s progressing,” she said. “Soon there won’t be any stopping it.”
He tied the ends of the cloth and urged her to keep drinking. His eyes lifted and met Zimran. The Wryn held out his hand for the cloth. Jarrett shook his head. He intended to bury it. He didn’t want anyone else to get sick. Zimran seemed to understand his motion, but then he reached behind him on the tray and picked up one of the rocks.
He pointed at the rock, then Tyla. “Il comedetus im.”
Jarrett shook his head. He’d seen Zimran do this before, but he just didn’t know what the Wryn meant.
“Il comedetus im,” repeated Zimran. He motioned to his own mouth, then reached back and picked up the green bowl. He curved his fingers in a scoop and pretended to grab some of the goop, then lifted his hand to his mouth and made a slurping motion. Beside him, Tyla shivered in revulsion, but continued sipping her tea. “Comedetus.” He made the motion and sound again. “Comedetus.”
“Comedetus?” repeated Jarrett. “It must mean eat.”
“It must,” said Tyla.
Jarrett pretended to eat without the slurping. “Comedetus?”
Zimran nodded emphatically, his white feathers dancing along the top of his head. He set the green glop down and held up the rock, pointing at Tyla. “Comedetus.” Then he made the slurping sound with the rock near his mouth.
Jarrett and Tyla exchanged a look.
“Eating snot is one thing,” she said, “but rocks?”
Jarrett turned back to Zimran. “We can’t comedetus rocks. No rocks.” He leaned over and touched the rock. “No comedetus.” He shook his head.
Zimran sighed and settled the rocks on the tray, then he reached out and took the bloody rag from Jarrett. Before Jarrett could stop him, he left the room.
* * *
Kalas sat on the balcony outside his private room, listening to the roar of the ocean and watching the waves crash against the rocks at the cliff’s base. The sun was setting, bathing the ocean in a pink glow, and he wondered if Tyla could see it as well.
Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his thighs. Parish told him how often his father stood and listened to the ocean, even when he’d lost his sight. In fact, when Parish wanted to find Talar, he usually started with the beach. Kalas was beginning to understand his father’s fascination – the violence, the roar, the crashing surf masked the fury of emotion inside him.
Ellette suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision. He hadn’t heard her, but it was difficult to hear anything over the pounding surf, and she was Nazarien. Nazarien could move without a sound. The soldiers on the pier hadn’t stood a chance against warriors who moved like a whisper.
She knelt in front of him, close enough to touch, but not touching, facing him, her hands laid loosely on her thighs. She wore a flowing pair of trousers and a silk blouse that hung off her slim frame, her brown hair lay in soft curls around her shoulders. Her feet were bare, giving her a vulnerable quality that played havoc with Kalas’ nobler half.
He’d told himself she was off limits. Men had abused her in the past and he was certainly not the man to mend that damage. He carried enough of his own baggage, he didn’t need hers. And yet, the way she kept intruding in his quiet times, teasing him with what might be. He didn’t think she was deliberately trying to goad him, but she did. She made him want things that he knew she could never give willingly – her past and the Nazarien faith would always put them at cross-purposes to each other.
“Your pets are worried about you, but they are afraid to brave your wrath and see if you are all right.”
He lowered his eyes from the surf to her. “According to you, my wrath is nothing to fear.”
“And yet they fret. Tell me what bothers you. I want to understand.”
He searched her face. She had a faint smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, a tiny flaw in her perfect Stravad features. He found it endearing. He didn’t think he wanted to share his innermost feelings with her, but yet, he started speaking, as if she drew the words out of him. “My entire life I’ve tried to protect my sister, and I’ve failed. It was the one thing I could do for my father, and I’ve never been up to the challenge.”
“Your sister is her own woman, capable of taking care of herself.”
He clasped his hands and stared at them hard. He hated remembering the choices he’d had to make, staying in Sarkisian instead of going with Tasamer Haldane and the army from Loden. He hated to think of watching Shara die. She’d been like a mother to him and when she was gone, the only thing he had left of he
r and his father was his sister. Tyla was his family, his blood. His sole purpose had been to protect her.
“I always fought for her. I always stood between her and Rarick. I should have stood between her and this. I should have stopped her from going.”
“How? She would have gone anyway. She is a determined person and nothing you could do would stop her.” She lifted her hands and placed them on his knees. He sat back in surprise as she stared him straight in the eye. “You are the King of Eastern Nevaisser. You will find a way to this island. This is no obstacle for a man like you. You will overcome it and you will find your sister. I have faith in this.”
She slid her hands along his thighs, moving into the space between his legs until they were nose to nose. “You have done so much in your time. You have united two kingdoms and brought peace to a region that has known war for too long. It is nothing for you to conquer this problem of finding an island. You will solve this as you have everything else.”
Kalas realized he was breathing fast, having her this close to him. He opened his mouth to say something, he wasn’t sure what, but she moved her mouth a breath away from his. “You will conquer this too. You will find your sister.”
Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his. He found himself kissing her back, pulling her closer, curling his hands around her shoulders and holding her to him. She slanted her head and deepened the kiss, sliding her hands along his chest and cupping his face in her hands. Then she broke away. He couldn’t help himself from falling toward her, wanting another taste, but she slid her hands down to his and twined their fingers together. She rose smoothly to her feet, staring down at him, then she tugged him up. He rose until their bodies were pressed against one another. She was so tall, she nearly matched him as she came forward and kissed him again, this time with hunger and urgency. He met her, allowing her to keep their hands linked by their sides, but he wanted to get closer to her.
She broke away again, then released his left hand. Turning her back to him, she tugged him after her toward the door to his private sleeping chamber. He followed her, bewildered, but too enticed to protest. At the door, she turned and backed into the room, pulling him in after her.
CHAPTER 18
Tyla hesitated in the hall outside the bathing chamber. Many excited voices could be heard chattering in the public domes. Pushing her damp hair out of her face, she moved to the connecting tunnel that led to the outside. As she passed their room, Jarrett rose to his feet and came toward her.
“What’s going on?”
Tyla shook her head, using the curved wall of the dome to guide her. Her knees felt particularly weak today. As if he knew, Jarrett placed a hand beneath her elbow, allowing her to lean on him. She was grateful for the way he didn’t focus on her debilitation or the growing signs that the disease was progressing. Another coughing bout had left her vomiting blood in the bathing chamber, but he didn’t say anything, holding her hair back, whispering words of comfort. If she’d loved him before, she was afraid he was making her fall in love with him all over again. There was no one else she would rather share her final days with, except maybe her son.
They moved into the public domes, but were forced back by a stream of Wryn hurrying into the main passage. Jarrett gave Tyla a confused look.
“Something’s obviously wrong,” she said.
They followed the stream of Wryn into the public dome with the sun and moon door, then continued outside. The sun was rising over the mountains, painting the sky in a gradient from orange to deep purple just overhead.
Tyla drew in the clear air and allowed the sun to bathe her. It was a beautiful day. She couldn’t help but wonder how many more she’d have. Forcing the grim thoughts away, she marked a circle of Wryn, milling and chattering in excitement. She and Jarrett pushed through the throng and found a Wryn lying in the middle of the group, on his stomach. Horrible, jagged tears ribboned his back, gleaming red through the massive rends in his tunic. The rest of the Wryn weren’t doing anything, watching and wringing their hands, chattering in obvious distress.
Tyla started to kneel beside him, but the Wryn suddenly fell back, opening a passage from the dome to the injured man. Glancing up, she saw two tall, skeletally thin Delphi moving through the crowd toward her. The emerald began glowing at her throat and she covered it with a hand, forcing the hum of their thoughts into the background.
Behind her, Jarrett stumbled back, bending over at the waist and covering his ears with his hands. She left the injured Wryn and went to him, pulling his hands away and kneeling down so she could look into his face.
“Look at me,” she ordered.
His eyes were screwed shut, but he squinted at her, breathing hard in his pain.
“Do you remember the gardens in Adishian?”
He gave her a confused look, then seemed to guess what she was doing. He nodded tightly.
“Do you remember how overgrown they were in the deepest part, farthest away from the castle? Try to picture them now in your mind.”
He sank to his knees in front of her, his eyes focused on hers. She glanced up and saw the Delphi had reached the fallen Wryn. Arranging themselves on either side of him, they bent down and grabbed him under the arms. Tyla returned her attention to Jarrett.
“Do you remember how you and Kian found me after Tarnow died?”
He gave a moan of pain, panting hard, but he nodded.
“Remember how cold it was. The frost on the plants, the crunch of the leaves under foot.”
He let her pull his hands away and she entwined their fingers.
“Do you remember how you kissed me there? I wanted to sink into your warmth, I wanted you to wrap yourself around me, protect me from everything.”
His grip tightened and his breathing eased a little.
She shot a look at the Delphi. They’d lifted the Wryn’s upper body and were dragging him, but they were moving away from the dome, off into the trees surrounding the city. Tyla wanted to stop them, but she couldn’t leave Jarrett yet.
“You told me you loved me then,” she said.
Jarrett let his eyes fall closed and he drew in deeper and deeper breaths as the Delphi moved farther away. Slowly opening his eyes again, he fixed them on hers. “I have never stopped loving you, Tyla,” he said.
She fought the sudden rush of tears, aware that her sickness was probably making her vulnerable to his charm, but so much of her wanted to tell him the same thing, tell him that in all the years since they parted, she’d never stopped loving him.
She started to look away, but then she remembered how she’d waited too long before and she’d almost lost him. Now she was dying and there wasn’t much time, there wasn’t going to be another decade to figure out how she felt about him, and most especially, there wasn’t going to be time to tell him so, if she didn’t do it now.
“Jarrett, I have never stopped loving you either. Our love is eternal and no matter what happens in the next few weeks, it won’t change what’s there between us now and forever.”
He reached out to sink his hand in her hair, but she curled her fingers around his. “However, if you love me, you have to go after the Delphi and see what they’ve done with that Wryn.”
He looked at her in confusion, then glanced behind them. The Delphi were just disappearing into the trees. Looking back at her, he frowned. “I love you forever, now go chase some tall white creatures that make your eyes bleed? Really, Tyla?”
She laughed and pressed his hand to her cheek. “Really.”
He sighed, then climbed to his feet. “Do me a favor. Stay here, please.”
“Done,” she answered and watched him lope off after the Delphi.
* * *
Jarrett followed the Delphi, careful to keep as much distance as he could between them. If he stayed far enough back, their strange communication didn’t cripple him. In fact, he’d learned the distance he needed to maintain to keep the hum of their thoughts no more annoying than the buzz of bees.
They dragged the injured Wryn through the small bank of trees and turned left, following the rock formations until they came to a flat area. Jarrett hid back at a distance and watched as they dumped the Wryn’s body onto a pile of something that looked suspiciously like garbage. Then they walked away.
Jarrett waited until they were headed back toward the domes. Once they were out of sight, he ran to the Wryn’s side and knelt, feeling at his neck for a pulse or whatever these creatures might have. A faint throb met his touch and he glanced around. Broken green bowls and pieces of the green cloth were everywhere, mixed in with other bit of cast off.
Looking back the way he’d come, he shook his head. They’d taken the injured Wryn and dumped him as if he was no more important than trash. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. If he brought the creature back, would the Delphi punish them for it? He couldn’t chance risking Tyla’s safety, but if he returned without it, she wouldn’t understand. Not Tyla. One of the things he loved about her was her concern for living things. In the end, he had no choice.
Grabbing the Wryn’s arm, he rolled him over. The creature moaned in pain and struggled a bit, but it was necessary to get him in a position where Jarrett could lift him. “Sorry, man,” he whispered as he situated himself to take the weight on his shoulders. Looking into the Wryn’s face, he couldn’t help but notice he was young, his features rounder than the other Wryn. Hopefully that would make him a bit lighter.
It still staggered Jarrett to haul the Wryn onto his shoulders, but he managed to get to his feet and distribute the weight so it was manageable. Then he began walking back to the domes. The short journey gave him a moment to think about what Tyla had said.
She loved him still. He’d begun to suspect it. It was impossible to not see the way she looked at him, let him care for her. Their life here was too intimate for there to be distance, and her sickness made it hard for her to keep up the front of hating him.
He fought against the despair these thoughts brought. They had so little time left and so far, they’d made no progress in curing this illness. Jarrett was beginning to suspect there was no cure, no way for them to stop it in time.
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 80
