by Deb E Howell
Strong hands gripped her under the armpits, lifting her from the road. Her feet scraped across the stony, muddy road. She thought she heard her own voice say something about sleep and being fine, but she couldn’t remember moving her lips.
“Come on, Llew.” Jonas’ voice seemed to float through her head.
The surface under her heels changed from the loose, muddy gravel road to the softer feel of vegetation. Her shoe caught on grass and fell off.
She felt herself gently lowered amongst the cool, wet roadside plants.
* * *
Braph watched from behind the crest in the road a couple hundred paces away. Seven men. He shook his head. He had known really that he needed more to take Jonas on, but it was all he could drum up in Stelt. As a Karan himself he was worth a few men, but he wasn’t willing to risk his own skin against Jonas yet. He still didn’t know what the Syakaran’s limits were.
The only Syakara he’d known were his own father, Jonas’ mother and Jonas himself, and it wasn’t as if he made a habit of fighting his parents as a child. Besides, his father had generally been away on the battlefields. Sometimes Jonas’ mother joined him.
The boys had fought plenty as children. But Braph had five years on Jonas, and neither of them knew the Syakaran boy’s strength by the time they were separated after their parents’ deaths. It had been twelve years since the brothers had last seen each other, and Jonas had grown into his power, and no doubt the years he’d spent in the military had honed his skills. Braph had always known his brother would be a tough fight. He supposed it was lucky Jonas hadn’t been home when Braph had gone to kill him a year earlier, after all. But once he got his hands on the blood of the Syaenuk . . . His hand touched the heel of his boot where Orinia’s last crystal was buckled tight. He could use it, but it was all Braph had left of her, and now he wasn’t even sure if Jonas would go down from just one Syaenuk crystal. It might well take two, or three, to finish him. He looked back down the road at the girl who appeared so much like her mother.
For now, she was travelling in the direction he needed her to go. Of course, should Jonas decide he’d rather kill her than take her with them, Braph might have to act. He had been surprised when Jonas had helped the girl heal in Stelt, and then taken her with him. It was not at all what he’d expected, but it might just turn out for the best since this way, Braph wasn’t burdened with the girl’s care.
There was still Turhmos to consider, too. Braph had seen more messages flying up and down the telegraph system – now they were sending soldiers to find her. If they came upon Braph travelling with the girl, it wouldn’t take a particularly smart mind to work out who she was, but they would never suspect Jonas to be travelling with an Aenuk. It was the perfect cover.
And then he would just have to figure out how to get her away from Jonas once in Phyos. The opportunity would come. Braph knew it.
* * *
Llew had no sense of how long she lay there. She thought for a moment it had been a dream – or a nightmare. She scrunched her fingers, feeling the rain-wet and dead undergrowth, and was grateful for having her jacket to keep most of her dry, though the sleeves were pulled up to expose her arms to the plant-life below her.
She opened her eyes to see Cassidy and Alvaro leaning over her, both their faces smeared in blood. She turned her head and gazed at Jonas kneeling beside her. He was smiling, just. She liked the way his whole face lit up when he smiled, even when it was just a small smile like right then. She found herself smiling back groggily.
“Hey, Llew.” Alvaro spoke gently. “That was amazing.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” she breathed. Her head swam.
Cassidy beamed at her.
“Seems not killing you back in Stelt might’ve been the right choice after all,” Jonas said, and Llew was glad to rock her head to the side and gaze upon him again.
“Hooray,” she said weakly, the dream-like sensations returning.
“Alright. We’ll talk later,” said Jonas, becoming serious again as he pushed himself up. “Come on, you two. Let’s round up the horses and tidy this mess.” He stepped from her view, returning with her shoe and the knife he’d given her, before disappearing again.
Llew could hear soggy scraping noises as she lay amongst the dead grass, ferns and tree roots. She became aware of a root digging into her back, as her mind began to clear. When she was lucid enough to know what it was, she cringed and felt nauseated by the sound of her friends moving the bodies from the road. They had neither the time nor the tools to bury them. The best they could do was clear the road and push the corpses out of sight of passers-by. The carrion eaters would deal with them.
After a while, there was the clip-clop of horses approaching. She heaved a sigh and pushed herself from the ground. All three men made a move to help her, but Alvaro was there first, lifting her up and supporting her while she wiggled her foot into her shoe. Jonas brought her horse forward and they all made sure she was up and secure before mounting their own horses. While Llew didn’t like feeling useless, right then she thought she could get used to that sort of male attention. If that was what it was like to be a real girl, she might even start growing her hair.
As they turned their horses toward Osurnu, leading the captured horses from Stelt, she tried to ignore the dark stains that were testament to the battle on the road. But she couldn’t ignore the signs of what she had done, the death and destruction of everything around them, the grass brown and brittle. Cassidy is alive. She had to cling to that thought.
They rode in silence, Llew flanked by Jonas and Alvaro, with Cassidy on the other side of his cousin. Jonas stayed silent after discouraging the other two from harassing Llew with too many questions.
Llew cleared her head of the ugliness of the fight, keeping the memories of death there and back in Cheer at bay, and let the celebratory air from Alvaro and Cassidy flow through her.
And she wondered at what she had done. She remembered some details, like the fact that Cassidy had been seriously, perhaps fatally, injured, and that she had touched him. She had healed herself before, but healing someone else was a new experience for her. It had hurt a great deal, too, so she wasn’t sure she would want to repeat the experience in a hurry. But she was alive. Cassidy was alive. Jonas was alive. What more could a girl want?
Her hat.
She had left her hat behind.
* * *
In the town of Osurnu their bloodied appearance and Alvaro’s bare chest were greeted with looks of fear and disgust (and a little admiration from young boys and the teenage girls) from the townsfolk. The drizzle had eased to a mist, which had nearly cleared by the time they entered the town, four abreast and trailing six saddled but riderless horses.
Osurnu looked to be about the same size as Cheer, but the buildings were more carefully constructed, with some even built of stone. The outer streets were ochre gravel just like any other Aghacian town, but the town centre was marked by a cobbled square. And Osurnu was awash with people.
They rode by an empty section that had been turned into a playground; children ran about squealing and screaming with glee, while others took their turns on a wooden slide and swings. A father called his children home and they indulged in playing a game of chase with him, pretending not to want to return for their supper. Llew watched with a mix of pleasure, envy, and sadness: it was nice watching the children run wild, but it made her wish her own childhood hadn’t ended at eleven or been so lonely before then. Alvaro and Cassidy delighted in the sight of happy children running about, and smiled and laughed at their antics. In Jonas, however, Llew saw a mirror of her own loss and longing. He too had had a childhood cut short and he gave her a brief nod as though acknowledging the bond.
Some of the children stopped playing to watch the group ride in; a couple even followed them for a while. Cassidy turned, pulling a face at them and making a sound like a bogeyman, and they squealed and ran away laughing. Cassidy turned back in his saddle, grinning.
r /> They spotted the carriage outside a tidy hotel – not an inn, or saloon, but a proper hotel. Ornate stonework covered the front of the building, and the name of the hotel was embossed in gold letters above the door. Llew had learnt some reading when she was younger, but she had never seen those words before.
After asking a hotel groom to see to the horses, they entered and enquired after Aris. The hotelier looked them up and down with the same mix of disdain and fear they had seen on many of the townsfolk faces. He refused to let them find Aris themselves and sent his daughter up the stairs to summon him, while he remained to keep an eye on them. Aris soon came down the stairs, with Anya trailing behind.
“I hope that’s not yours,” he said, indicating their bloodied appearance.
“A great deal of it is, yes.” Cassidy beamed at Aris.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They followed Aris up the carpeted staircase. Llew had never seen such opulence: the stairs were bordered by an ornate wooden balustrade, and the walls were covered in richly-coloured floral wallpaper. Throughout there was a warmth and sense of comfort that made her feel she never wanted to leave.
Although the stairwell was impressive, she was nevertheless completely unprepared for Aris’ room. A luscious beige carpet covered the floor, while heavy red and gold drapes framed the windows and the matching bed covers shone against the dark polished oak panelling and carved bedposts.
“I thought we deserved to recuperate in the best Osurnu had to offer,” Aris said, noting the way they were taking in their surroundings.
“And to show us what we’ll be missing when we get back to reality?” asked Cassidy.
“So what happened?” Aris asked, ignoring Cassidy’s comment.
Anya sat in one of the large armchairs, which were upholstered in the same material as the curtains, and waited expectantly to hear what had happened since she, Aris and Emylia had left the others behind.
Jonas briefly described their encounter with the riders, how they were surrounded, yet prevailed. When he got to the part about Cassidy’s injury, Aris studied the young man, seeming unconvinced that he had been struck down so severely.
“We all thought he was a goner, for sure,” said Alvaro.
“But Jonas said it wasn’t–” Cassidy paled slightly.
“But then Llew put a hand on him and, wow! He just healed right up.”
“Well, Llew, it doesn’t look like you can keep your secret any longer.” Aris walked to the window, taking in the grey evening. “But I think we will discuss it after you have all had a chance to wash up. There’s a bath-house attached to this place. When you’re all presentable, we can talk about it over dinner.” He turned back to face them, taking in the disappointed expressions of Cassidy, Alvaro and Anya. “We will talk about it. Now go. And Jonas, stay with Llew. I don’t want Braph taking us by surprise.”
Jonas nodded and moved toward the door as Alvaro asked, “Who’s Braph?”
“Something we’ll discuss over dinner,” said Aris. “And get Emylia to take care of that,” he said, nodding at Jonas’ shoulder. Llew hadn’t even realised he’d been injured. She could have fixed it for him. She still could.
Llew felt herself being tugged from the room and turned to see Anya’s hand gripping her shirt, dragging her toward the girls’ room.
“What are you doing?”
“Do you have another shirt?” Anya waved her other hand up and down, indicating Llew’s bloodied ensemble. “We’re going to find you something to wear.” She pulled Llew into the room and began sifting through clothes in a travel bag.
The room was almost identical to Aris’, except that the colour scheme was a rich royal blue.
“What’s the story?” Jonas leaned against the door frame.
“Ah, here it is!” Anya stood up with a bundle of material in her hands. She let it fall open and held it up before Llew.
“A dress?” said Llew.
“Nice,” said Jonas, making room for Emylia to slip past him.
Llew scowled at him. “Aris wanted you to get that shoulder seen to. Get in here.”
He pushed away from the door frame and entered the room.
“Well, despite whatever else you may be, you are a girl, after all,” said Anya.
“A floral dress?” Llew studied the blue material with little white flowers printed over it. “With lace?” She ran a finger along the lace trim on a short sleeve, frowning at the scratchy feel of it.
Emylia smiled as she delved into her luggage to locate her small medical supply.
“It’s pretty, Llew. It’ll suit you.” She gave Jonas a withering look.
“I think it will look nice on you,” Anya said, hurt.
“Thanks. It’s . . . Lovely. Thanks.”
Anya smiled. “The boys will love it.”
“Sure will,” said Jonas.
Llew felt her cheeks flush. “I thought you had a shoulder needed seeing to?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to get you to remove that shirt,” Emylia said to Jonas. “It would be best if you girls returned to Aris’ room.”
“Aris wants Jonas with me at all times,” said Llew. “And it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”
“Anya?” Emylia looked pointedly at the girl.
“I’m getting married soon!”
“Exactly,” said Emylia. “Now, return to Aris’ room in the meantime, please.”
Anya didn’t bother to stifle her huff, but did as she was told.
“Right, shirt.” Emylia turned away and sorted through her small bag of first aid supplies as Anya flounced out.
Llew pushed the door closed and leaned against the wardrobe. Jonas unbuckled and shrugged off his vest and then the shirt, hooking them over the back of a chair. Even just standing there, muscles worked under the skin, it was almost enough to distract her from her plan to help him.
“Can’t I do it? I mean,” she waved her hands about, “magically? Or whatever it is I do?”
Emylia gave them both a questioning look.
“’Fraid not, Llew,” said Jonas, angling himself so Emylia could examine the wound more closely. “It’s kind of a self-preservation thing. Aenuks can’t heal Kara. You’re Aenuk, I’m Kara.”
“But I’m Syaenuk. Aris said so.” Whatever that means. Llew pushed herself off the wardrobe and grabbed Jonas’ wrist, and felt nothing. She squeezed. Jonas just stood watching her, his face unreadable. Nothing. Not a single zap. Nothing outside the usual tingle she felt when she came in contact with his skin, anyway. Nothing like what she’d felt when she had touched and healed Cassidy. And the cut remained.
“That’s just stupid.” She backed away and folded her arms, pouting.
“It’s deep,” said Emylia, studying the small wound on Jonas’ shoulder. “Maybe an inch. But it’s clean. It should heal up fine.”
Jonas looked over his shoulder at Llew, and she pretended to study the dark wood grain beside her, before looking back with a bored expression, as though a half-dressed man standing in front of her was something that occurred every day; hell, it nearly was true these days. She couldn’t control the colour of her cheeks when he smirked, though. She glared at him, and he returned his attention to Emylia’s ministrations. Llew found her gaze drawn once more to the creature tattooed down Jonas’ side. There was something about it that seemed to fit so perfectly with its wearer: it was fearsome and protective.
“Thanks, Em,” said Jonas, pulling his shirt back on as soon as his shoulder was wiped free of blood and bandaged. Emylia gave a friendly smile and set about clearing her things away. Jonas shrugged his vest back on and opened the door, nodding at Llew to go through. Anya was waiting in the hallway. She lifted the dress bundled in her fist and Llew thanked her again as she took it and went to move past. Anya cleared her throat, and Llew turned back to her. The blonde girl held out a pair of puffy white leggings, heavily laced at the bottom. Llew felt herself colour, but snatched the underwear and continued along the hall and down t
he stairs before her cheeks started to cook. She supposed she needed something to wear under the damn dress.
“Are you going to join me in the bathhouse?”
Jonas shrugged. “Let’s see the set-up, first.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and the hotel clerk directed them around the corner to the bathhouse.
“Men’s showers on the right,” he said, with a suspicious look at the two of them, his eyes narrowing as they took in Llew and her bundles of lace.
The door to the men’s bath opened and Cassidy and Alvaro stepped out, looking more pleasing to the eye with clean clothes, fresh skin and damp hair. Alvaro glared at Jonas.
“Where’s your change of clothes?” he asked.
“Aris wants me to guard Llew.”
“I can do it. You need a bath, too.”
“Aris wants me to watch Llew,” Jonas repeated.
“I’ll stay and help.”
“It’s tough being cute.” Cassidy leaned in to Llew. “Good thing you came along. They used to fight over me like this. It was so irksome.” He smoothed his hair behind an ear and batted his eyelashes. “I’ll see you boys – and girl – upstairs.”
Llew smiled at his retreating back. “Well, I’m going to get this blood off me.” She pushed open the door to the women’s bath. “Play nice while I’m gone.”
There were a couple of women drying themselves and dressing as Llew entered. They paused to watch as she selected a cubicle. She supposed it wasn’t usual for a girl to get around in a blood-soaked shirt and trousers.
She stripped off, then stood under a cool stream of water and watched the reddish-brown liquid circle at her feet before it fell through a grated hole in the floor. She’d never experienced a shower before, but she could definitely see the idea catching on.
After drying herself off with a towel provided by the hotel, she held up Anya’s dress. It really was a nice dress . . . for somebody else to wear. She reminded herself that she didn’t have another option, and slipped the fabric over her head, letting it fall over her. The dress was light and floated about her legs. She ran her hands down her sides, feeling her curves, and followed the line of the dress as it flared out from the waist. She darted a look around the bathhouse to make sure that the other women had left, and then she spun around, feeling the dress fly out. She grinned, then laughed out loud as she spun on the spot until she felt dizzy. She steadied herself against a cubicle wall until her giggles subsided, and she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She ran both hands over her damp hair and, for possibly the first time, mourned its short length.