Kalas turned fully around. “Be careful how you speak to me, Nazarien.”
Attis dropped his eyes.
Alasdair rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re wasting time arguing in a language I don’t understand. Are we going or not?” he asked in Lodenian.
“Yes, as soon as I can get the ship provisioned. I intend to leave in the morning before someone can burn this ship down.” He switched to Nevaisser. “Have the ship prepared to sail at dawn.”
“You have been betrayed and you know the betrayer is someone in your inner circle, yet you insist that you are continuing on this path. Do you want to die? Is that your goal?” said Parish in frustration.
“My goal is to bring my sister back, nothing more.”
Parish cast a sidelong look at Ellette. “Do one thing for me then. Do not broadcast your plans to everyone. Send everyone away, so that you and I can plan in private. I will have the men mustered and ready to leave on a moment’s notice, but let the time of departure be a secret that just the two of us keep.”
“I am not going to sneak around like a thief, Parish. Double the guard, whatever you need to do, but I am not going to hide from Quinn Laurel like a coward.”
“You don’t have the right to take such risks!” said Attis again, coming forward. “You have two regions reliant on you for guidance. Listen to the Baron and think of others for once. He can send a squad to the island and you never have to set foot outside this sanctuary.”
Kalas focused on him. “Why are you so adamant about this?”
“During Rarick’s time, my people were hunted like dogs. There was a bounty on our heads and people cashed in on it. They murdered my people like vermin, but now we can move freely without fear. I will not go back to a time when we hid away what we really were.”
Kalas frowned. “How can anything I do change that, return it to the way it was? We have laws that prevent such things from happening now, Attis. I just don’t understand your opposition.”
“I know you don’t. You care only for the things that matter to you. You don’t care for your people or how much they need you, your guidance and stewardship. You have to stop thinking of yourself as a man, the same as any other man here. You have to be the King you were born to be. Don’t go to that island. Don’t take such risks. Stay here and let us protect you. You owe it to every person in Nevaisser. I have tried and tried to make that clear to you. I don’t know how to be any clearer.”
Kalas stared at him and things began coalescing. “You had the Queen Astaral burned, didn’t you?”
Attis looked away. “I was trying to protect you from yourself.”
“You’re the leak? You’re the betrayer?” said Parish in disbelief, rounding on him.
Attis’ eyes snapped up to Kalas and held. “I was trying to protect you. I was trying to keep you safe. I thought if the ship burned, you would be forced to stay here. Then my actions almost got you killed. I didn’t know Quinn Laurel would use that opportunity to attack you, but he did. Now I’m more certain than ever that you must not leave this house.”
Silence fell in the room and everyone stared at Attis.
Finally, Parish moved. “I’ll have my men arrest him.”
“I accept whatever punishment you mete out, but I stand by my belief that you must not go to that island. You must not risk your life anymore.”
Parish grabbed Attis’ arm. “Betrayal is grounds for life imprisonment or execution, Nazarien. You have made a fatal mistake.”
“I understood that yesterday, but I did not betray you, Your Majesty. I never alerted Quinn Laurel of my actions. I accept the blame for the burning of the Queen Astaral, but nothing more. I would never align myself with assassins and traitors.”
“Well, you did. You almost fed right into his hands. You almost delivered your King to him, and I promise you, you will pay for it,” hissed Parish.
Kalas held up a hand. “The Queen Astaral was a very expensive vessel.”
Attis ducked his head.
“Very expensive. It will take many years to pay off such a debt.”
Attis’ gaze moved upward, but he couldn’t meet Kalas’ eyes.
“Your actions would be deemed treasonous if they weren’t so misguided.”
“I don’t understand, Your Majesty,” said Parish.
“Attis has protected my life at the risk of his own numerous times. That is not something easily forgotten.”
“What are you saying? He betrayed you. He burned down your ship,” argued Parish.
“Yes, for the purpose of protecting me, and he’s clearly done so. I’m still alive.” He took a step closer to Attis. “However, you owe me a ship, Attis.”
“Where will I get one, Your Majesty?” he said with a bewildered expression.
“Obviously, you’ll have to work it off. Starting tomorrow, you are indentured to me until the cost of the Queen Astaral is paid in full.”
Parish released his hold on Attis and stared at Kalas in disbelief. “What are you saying, Your Majesty?”
“I’m saying that saving my life has more value to me than a ship I didn’t know about until a few days ago.”
“This is ridiculous. He burnt down a ship to keep you here.”
“Which is why he will repay me for it.”
“He took action without your approval.”
Kalas met Parish’s angry look. “If that were the standard by which all of you were measured, every one of you would find yourself in prison or executed.”
Parish slapped his thighs again and walked away, but Attis lifted a hand and scratched at his tattoo, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said, then executed a formal bow.
* * *
Jarrett returned to the domes and found Tyla sitting on the sleeping shelf, turning a green orb over and over in her hands. She looked up when he entered and smiled. He felt a blush of happiness flow through him. She seemed stronger than she had in weeks, a faint tint of color in her cheeks. She was still unbelievably gaunt, but the dark circles beneath her eyes had faded a bit.
“How are you?” he said, leaning against the narrowed doorway. He desperately needed to bathe and wash the sweat away. The Wryn had been enthusiastic, if not particularly skilled, students with the spear.
“I had an interesting day.”
“Did you now? In what way?”
“The Delphi summoned me.”
That drew Jarrett into their chamber. “And you went without me?”
She gave him another smile. “You don’t exactly fare well with them, now do you?”
“No, but I don’t like that you went alone.”
“I didn’t. Zimran went with me.”
“Tell me what happened.” He took a seat across from her on the shelf.
Tyla relayed her encounter with the Delphi, recalling the way that Zimran had communicated with Revic, but when she thought about it later, she couldn’t remember Zimran trying to communicate with them the same way. He always spoke to them.
“Why do you think this Revic wanted to see the emerald?”
Tyla shook her head. “I’m not sure, but it reacts in their presence. The same way it does when it’s in the presence of pycantra.”
“Or it responds to you, your power. The Delphi force you to call upon your telekinetics.”
She gave a nod of agreement.
“It worries me that they’re so interested in you.”
“I had to give them a jolt to back them down. I felt a little like a curiosity to them, the day’s entertainment.”
“Day’s? Try week or month or century?”
Tyla laughed and Jarrett soaked up the sound. He reached out and took her hand. “You seem stronger than you have in weeks.”
She squeezed his fingers. “I am. I think it’s safe to say Zimran cured me.”
He was afraid to make that claim too soon and intended to keep putting the rock dust in her food, but it did seem like the crisis had passed.
“So what’s with the snot ball?” He motioned at the orb with his chin.
“I was wondering if it would float, or enable a wooden frame to float.”
“You mean use it as the membrane for a boat.”
“Exactly. Now that we’ve found the cure, we need to get back to Kazden, Jarrett. People are dying needlessly. And I thought Kalas would have found us by now.”
He leaned closer to her. “Kalas will find us, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. I’ll start working on building a small boat of some kind.”
“Thank you for listening to my ideas, even when they seem silly.”
“I will always listen to you, Tyla. And your ideas aren’t silly. They may be risky and ill-planned, but not silly.”
She laughed. “They are never ill-planned. Maybe not Jarrett-planned or Kalas-planned, but certainly not ill-planned.”
“Then wrong-planned.”
She pushed him in the shoulder, but he leaned forward again and kissed her forehead.
She caught the front of his tunic and stopped him from drawing away. Her green eyes searched his face, then she leaned forward and kissed him. For a moment, Jarrett couldn’t respond. Everything he’d suppressed for ten years, every emotion, every feeling, crowded into his throat and he froze.
She drew away, slowly opening her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
He moved then and caught her by the back of the head, pulling her into him, meeting her lips with his own. He fought the hunger that filled him, the desire to meld them together, and gentled his kiss, angling his mouth to meet hers.
When they finally parted, both of them were breathing fast. He stared into her eyes, losing himself in their depth. “I love you, Tyla Eldralin, now and always.”
Her hand was fisted in the fabric at his throat, but she eased her hold. “I love you, Jarrett.”
“What the hell are we going to do?”
She pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes again. “We’re not going to worry about it right now. I’ve been given a second chance and I’m tired of getting caught up in whatifs that take place somewhere in the future. I just want to live my life and enjoy what’s happening right at this very moment.”
“I like that philosophy. So what do you want to do at this very moment?”
She leaned away from him. “What were you planning to do when you came back here just now?”
He thought for a moment. “I was going to use the bathing chamber and wash off the grime from teaching the Wryn to use spears.”
A wicked gleam sparked in her eye. “You want some company?” she whispered.
Jarrett felt his heart jolt, then he rose to his feet and pulled her up with him.
The orb tumbled out of her lap and landed on the ground, forgotten, as they hurried from their chamber.
CHAPTER 23
The commercial fishing vessel they commandeered was large and solidly crafted. It cut through the waves, sending spray over the bow. The crew had scrubbed the decks, but scales and bits of entrails stubbornly clung to the corners and between the ship’s timbers. A distinct smell of fish permeated everything, including the sailors.
Parish had stocked the hull with enough provisions for a month’s long journey. He had boxes of cured meat, baskets of fresh fruit, and loaf after loaf of dense nut bread wrapped in wax paper. Added to it were two casks of the finest whiskey from the King’s personal larder. The fishermen had grumbled about losing their catch for the next few days, but the fare, and the generous coffers of the King, went a long way toward smoothing things over. As a result, the rough sailors were very solicitous of their august passengers and a course was quickly set for Delure.
Once they sailed onto the open ocean, Dolan took to hanging by the rails. His stomach rebelled with the pitch of the rough waves, and soon Allistar joined him with a handful of his Stravad warriors. The rest of the soldiers had braved the sea many times and weren’t bothered by it.
Kalas worried his stomach might find the violent rolling unacceptable, but no matter how much the vessel pitched over the swells, he felt fine. In fact, he felt energized. He’d never ridden on the ocean before. Rarick had a general distrust of the sea and therefore, would never permit his heir to venture onto it.
Kalas felt like he understood his father a bit better. There was a freedom, a wildness about the ocean that spoke to him, that enchanted him. Every roll of the timbers beneath his feet reminded him how insignificant they were in the greater scheme of the world and there was something liberating in that idea.
Ellette stood beside him at the bow, the wind whipping her hair back from her face. Although she didn’t smile, the concentration in her expression told Kalas she was experiencing much the same thing he was. For the first time in either of their lives, they were truly free.
“It will be a number of hours, Your Majesty,” said Parish, coming up on his side.
Kalas nodded. Parish was still angry at him for allowing Attis to remain part of his retinue, but Kalas understood how the Cult thought. They took action; they didn’t ask for permission. Attis would never have thought to talk to Kalas about his safety; he just acted to insure it, as misguided as that action was.
“Did you ever sail with my father, Parish?”
Parish glanced at him. If anything could ease the tension between them, talking about Talar was bound to do it. “We used to borrow a small boat when we were teenagers, sail out and fish. We’d spend the whole day out, eating cheese sandwiches and talking. Didn’t do much fishing, honestly.”
“Borrow?”
Parish shrugged. “We called it borrowing. Others might call it stealing, but we always returned it. Your father wasn’t opposed to taking a shortcut once in a while if it served him.”
“Not a very Nazarien-like trait,” commented Ellette.
“Talar wasn’t a very Nazarien-like Nazarien,” said Parish, his voice tinged with nostalgia. He shifted and met Kalas’ eye, then laid a hand on his shoulder before he went off to give his men new orders.
* * *
Jarrett and Tyla had just finished eating when Zimran appeared. Mid-morning light was filtering into their chamber and neither of them were in a particular hurry to leave the sanctuary they had built for themselves. Unspoken between them was the knowledge that they needed to get off the island, but stealing one morning for themselves didn’t seem too extravagant.
Zimran’s expression, however, was less than sanguine.
“Ty-la, venir meca.”
Tyla was beginning to understand this phrase at least. “Not today, Zimran. We have other things to do.” She motioned between her and Jarrett.
Zimran might not have understood what she said, but he understood that she wasn’t moving. He shifted weight anxiously. “Ty-la, venir meca cere. Del-phi manda.”
Tyla exchanged a look with Jarrett.
Jarrett shook his head. “I don’t want you going in there alone and since we’ve determined I can’t go, the Delphi will just have to be disappointed.”
Tyla turned back to Zimran. “I’m sorry, my friend. No venir meca.” She shook her head emphatically.
Zimran came forward, then danced back, his expression clearly agitated. “Ty-la, Del-phi manda.” Then, strangely, he placed his hands together in a motion of supplication. “Ty-la, cere.”
Tyla felt torn. “He’s pleading with me, Jarrett. How can I refuse? They saved my life and possibly the lives of our people.”
“Zimran saved your life, not the Delphi, and I repeat, I don’t like you facing them alone.”
“I did it before and nothing happened. I think I can control the situation if it comes down to it. I’m fairly certain they’re just going to try communicating again.”
“I thought we’d spend the day together,” he said, reaching over and taking her hand.
“I don’t think I’ll be long. While I’m gone, why don’t you see if the membrane on the orbs floats?”
Jarrett leaned back against the wall. “All right.” He g
ave a dramatic sigh. “If you insist, I guess I’ll be productive.”
She stood up and leaned over the table, kissing his cheek. Before she could pull away, he turned into the kiss, curling his hand around the back of her neck and holding her there. Happiness rose inside of her, but she pulled away reluctantly.
“Go get filthy again,” she whispered against his lips, “and I’ll meet you in the bathing chamber when you return.”
His eyes glimmered wickedly as he slid his hand free of her hair. Then he glared up at Zimran. “Hurry this meeting up.”
Zimran blinked his large eyes at him, looking completely bewildered.
Tyla motioned to the door and waited for the Wryn to lead the way. “I’ll see you in a little while,” she said from the doorway, then followed Zimran toward the Delphi arena.
As they wove through the domes, Tyla couldn’t help but wonder at the fact that the rest of the Wryn seemed unconcerned with the Delphi. She believed the Wryn provided all physical sustenance for the Delphi, but beyond that, the Delphi seemed to have little influence in their lives. Although, she couldn’t forget how the Delphi had discarded Avendale when he was injured. The dynamics between the two people was clearly not equal, and yet, she wondered what the Delphi did for the Wryn. It was a lop-sided relationship in her perspective, benefitting only one of them.
Before they arrived at the sun and moon door, it opened. Tyla could feel the pulsation of the Delphi thoughts and the emerald began to hum against her breast. A few Wryn were passing through, and they quickened their pace when they noticed the door was open. Although the cacophony of Delphi thoughts didn’t hurt her, it was unpleasant, like the buzzing of a bee hive inside one’s head. She had to wonder if the Wryn felt the same thing.
She followed Zimran beyond the door, not waiting for it to close behind them. The Delphi occupied their same places around the periphery of the room. She was beginning to notice small variances in their appearance. Revic, with his green band of cloth, was easy to recognize.
He lifted his hand as he had the day before and the hum of thoughts subsided. Then he motioned her forward. Tyla stepped away from Zimran and faced him from the floor of the arena. He pointed emphatically at the emerald and held out his hand.
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 87
