Torren had heard those tales as well. While the first was close to the truth, it had been a long time ago. As to the second…
“Well, if you’re all set, I’ll be bidding you goodnight. Wouldn’t want the missus to start wondering what I’m up to.” He grinned shamelessly.
Larana looked up from where she’d finished setting out the bedding and waved. “Goodnight.”
Torren walked over to the stall as Gimmel opened the barn door. He sat just as the barn was plunged into darkness. Cully brayed, objecting to the interruption of his well-earned sleep.
Taking off his boots and lying down, Torren tried not to think about what the old man had said, being troubled enough already. He almost jumped as Larana’s quiet voice reached him in the darkness.
“Torren, what are Flyers?”
He scowled, for more than one reason, at the question. “They’re the Chosen of El.”
Surely, she knew this.
“El?” she asked.
Did her aunt and uncle teach her nothing? In all his travels, he’d never before met someone who’d not heard of the Flyers or El. “He’s one of the sons of the Goddess. The Chosen, or Flyers, as they’re normally called, are his people. Supposedly, he blessed them long ago and took them as his own after they’d done him a great service back when the world was young.”
He almost said more but made himself stop. These things weren’t important.
“The Chosen of El.” Larana’s disembodied voice sent an unexplained shiver down his arms. “Do they eat children?”
He sighed. “No. They never have, and I doubt they ever will. It’s an old tale told by people with no understanding of what they’re talking about.”
“And the other thing?”
“Macah was right. The old man was only talking foolishness.” He cut her off before she could say anything else. “Go to sleep. We’ll be getting an early start tomorrow.”
He lay staring into the darkness until he finally heard her settle down. Only then did he allow himself to go to sleep, old stories whispering in the back of his mind.
Chapter Five
Torren woke the next morning as predawn light peeked in through the open barn doors. He could hear a barrage of soft curses coming from the mule’s stall.
He sat up slowly, brushing stray strands of hay from his hair, amazed to have slept the night through. Since the dream had plagued him for the past two nights, he’d assumed it would return for a third. Maybe whatever had triggered it was gone. He could only hope so.
The mule brayed in annoyance as Gimmel tried to coax it out of its stall. It tried to kick him. The nimble old man knew the mule’s ways well and made sure not to be in range.
“You confounded pest!” He halfheartedly made as if to swat the mule then turned from the stall in disgust. He spotted Torren sitting up. “Ah, good morning,” he said. “Sleep well?”
“Fine.” For the first time, he realized Larana wasn’t with him. A sliver of apprehension cut through him.
Gimmel beat him to the question before he could ask it. “The girl woke up when I first came in. She offered and headed off to help the wife. Quite handy, she is, unlike some.” He glared back at the mule. “You don’t think she’d be inclined to help me get this cantankerous creature hitched up after breakfast, do you?”
Torren stood, grabbing his blanket and shaking it free of hay. He noticed Larana had already rolled hers, attaching it to the pack. He was amazed he hadn’t heard her. He normally didn’t sleep so soundly.
“I’ll ask her, if you want.”
“I’d really appreciate that. Indeed, I would.”
He slipped on his boots then went to the pail of water Gimmel had given them last night. He splashed his face and ran his wet fingers through his hair. Gimmel was out of sight in one of the other stalls, so he didn’t bother to pretend to shave, instead just cleaning his teeth. He then took the pail and dumped the water outside.
Uncharacteristically, he stared up at the brightening sky and took a deep breath, reveling in the fresh morning air with the hint of baking bread curling through it. He caught sight of a lone falcon drifting high on a thermal. With a yearning he hadn’t felt in some time, he watched it glide in lazy circles above him. After a minute or so, he forced himself to look away.
Straightening the collar on his loose shirt, he grabbed the empty pail and made his way toward the house. The clatter of dishes and laughter greeted him at the door. The baby squealed with pleasure as he spotted Larana tickling it as she made funny faces. She had her own clothes back on, and they were clean.
He almost smiled at the scene until he realized what he’d been about to do and sobered. None of this mattered.
“Morning!” Larana’s greeting was bright. He only returned it with a nod.
As soon as he took a seat, Macah seemed to appear out of nowhere and served him breakfast—hot bread, fresh butter, cheese, milk, even eggs. Ulla teased her husband as he walked in yawning and then served him. The atmosphere was pleasant, even sweet. It rankled.
He glanced over at his charge and saw she looked happy, not like the frightened girl he’d first come across. With a wide smile on her face and light in her eyes, it was easy to forget her gangliness, her strange power—and the fact he was trying to rid himself of her. He looked away and ate, his food not tasting as pleasant as before.
Once Torren was done, Ulla took her happy baby back from Larana, cooing at it. Larana got up as he did and followed him back to the barn to get his possessions.
“Gimmel wondered if you’d mind getting the mule ready for him,” he said in a noncommittal tone. “I told him I’d ask.”
Larana rushed forward then turned around while still walking and almost tripped.
“Sure, Cully’s sweet.” She grinned and ran off to the mule’s stall. By the time he retrieved his pack, she had already coaxed the mule out and got him headed toward the cart. It was almost as if the two of them had been working together for years.
“These are nice people.” Larana glanced over at him as she got Cully to back up.
“Yes, they’re very nice.” He forced himself not to look at her happy, trusting face and went on. “I could ask them if they’d let you stay.”
“No!”
She looked as shocked by the vehemence of her denial as he was. She turned her face away. “Please don’t.”
“Why?” he asked her bluntly. “We agree they’re nice people. They live like you’re used to. They seem to like you.”
He was hard-pressed to feel unmoved as she looked at him, her face marred with guilt and pain.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You’ve done nothing. But your family is dead. You have no living relatives. And my kind of life is not for you.”
“But…” Her eyes filled with tears, yet they didn’t fall. “It would be wrong to stay here. Please don’t make me. It’s too close…”
She stared at him in supplication.
He frowned, disturbed by her choice of words. Might it have something to do with her strange talent? Yet it made no sense. The men who’d been after her would be long gone by now. She’d not gotten a good look at them, and he doubted they’d had a chance to get one of her. They’d have no reason whatsoever to continue looking for her. Still…
“All right. Have it your way.”
“Th–thank you.” Larana wiped at her eyes. Her relief was almost palpable.
The tension he had been trying to ignore in his shoulders suddenly dissipated. He didn’t understand it and just told himself it was relief at having averted a possible ugly scene.
“I’ll wait for you outside.”
Gimmel showed up a few minutes later with his son in tow. He brought a wrapped bundle with him.
“Will the two of you be going soon?”
“Yes,” Torren told him, “we still have a fair way to travel.”
“Well, the wife figured as much and decided she wanted you to take this along.” He gave Torren a grin
and handed over the bundle. “It’s just a little something to make the trip more pleasant.”
He took the offered gift, nodding his thanks. The door to the barn squeaked open, and Larana came out with Cully, the hitched wagon trailing behind.
Gimmel shook his head, his grin growing wider.
“See, Acer, I told you she could do it.” He gave Larana a friendly pat on the back. “My mule is sweet on you.”
She scratched Cully behind the ear as she gave Gimmel a small smile. “He’s a good mule.”
Acer snorted.
“Even so, thank you for your help with him. It sure makes me feel as if I might have come out a little too ahead in our negotiations just for this.”
Larana shook her head, turning serious. “Oh, no, I got a fair price.”
She smiled again, but Torren couldn’t help noticing how the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Well, if the two of you ever come back this way, you make sure to come see us. Especially if it’s during festival.” He winked. “I think between the two of us we could rob most of the folks blind.”
She grinned with actual pleasure this time, her cheeks flushing. “I’d like that.”
“We’d best be going.” Torren nodded toward Gimmel and his son. “Thanks again for your hospitality.”
He handed the wrapped bundle to Larana and headed toward the highway.
“Goodbye!” She waved at the two men and the women now in the house’s doorway and ran after him.
As they reached the highway, it was obvious some of the caravan were already awake and hard at work. The neighing of horses could be heard as they were brushed and made ready to go. Several of the guards stared at them in distrust as Torren steered toward the general store.
“You’ll need a change of clothes,” he said as they stepped inside. “See if they have anything that might be appropriate.”
The proprietor’s face brightened at their entrance, a young boy standing with him looking half-asleep. Like Gimmel, it was obvious they planned to take advantage of the caravan if they could.
Larana instantly headed to the back of the store. He stayed by the doorway, taking stock of the goods on display, knowing this would probably cost him more than he wanted to spend. He wondered why he was bothering.
About ten minutes later, Larana came back with a simple dress. “Is this all right?”
He barely glanced at it and nodded, not looking forward to what would come next. As soon as she’d gotten his approval, however, she took the dress to the waiting proprietor and, before he could even open his mouth, stated clearly that she’d give him a copper for the dress.
The proprietor’s brows rose at the ridiculous offer.
“I’m sorry, but it’ll be two silver.”
“Is that so?” she countered.
The proprietor’s brows rose another notch. “Yes.” The boy beside him looked more awake than before.
Instantly, Larana took up the challenge, pointing at the seam of the dress. The battle was joined.
Less than five minutes later, Torren paid a mere pittance for the purchase, amazed once more at the bargaining skills of this strange waif.
Chapter Six
They were silent as they left the boundary of the town at a leisurely pace. After a time, trees crowded once more against the road, providing cool respite from the sun. He came to find Larana’s continuing silence disturbing, yet he did nothing change it.
When they stopped to rest about midmorning, he watched her surreptitiously as she clutched the bundle given them by Gimmel’s wife, staring back down the road the way they’d come. More than once, he considered asking her what she was thinking about, but didn’t. It wasn’t any of his business, after all.
When the sun glared down at them from high in the sky, Torren veered off the highway and settled in the shade of a large oak. Without being asked, Larana opened the bundle; and for the first time, they got to see what they’d been given. Nestled inside were a couple of loaves of fresh bread, a large chunk of goat cheese and several ripe tomatoes.
Larana laughed as she split the contents and gave him his share. “They really were nice people!”
He bit into one of the tomatoes, its mild juices tickling his tongue. “Don’t you think you could have been happy there?”
The question left his lips before he could think about why he was asking it.
Her eyes went dark. She turned away, hiding her face from him; and suddenly, he regretted asking the question. When she answered, he had to work hard to hear her reply.
“I think I could have been very happy…but…I didn’t want to take the chance I might bring them pain.”
Was this paranoia, or something to do with her strange power?
“Besides,” she added in a artificially cheery tone, “this way I get to travel and see things I’ve not seen before.” She still wouldn’t look at him. Torren said nothing, eating his food. She eventually reached for some of her own but still kept her face averted.
So, he was slightly taken aback when, later in the afternoon, she picked up her pace until she was walking beside him. He decided to say nothing about it, glad to see her face bright again.
Over the next three days, they fell into a companionable routine. They lit no fires at night by unspoken mutual consent and left the road whenever they spotted anyone coming their way, which wasn’t often. The farther they went from where he found her, the more her spirit seemed to leave behind her sorrow. Occasionally, she’d dart from side to side on the road in surging spurts of energy as she chased after a bird or a squirrel or admired a beautiful butterfly or flower. More often than not, in her hurry, she would trip and, occasionally, fall. The first few times she picked herself up and went on, he shook his head or rolled his eyes. After a few more, an occasional grin tugged lightly at the edge of his mouth at her perseverance.
Larana quickly volunteered for anything that needed done, growing bold enough to take their blankets from his pack the moment he set it down and set them out for the night.
Their travels were quiet, almost seductively pleasant. If not for the one evening he was awakened by the sound of hooves striking stone as speeding horses rushed by on the highway and the occasional glimpse of the floating island far off in the distance, he might have thought it ideal.
On the third night, he found it hard to go to sleep after having glimpsed the island once more floating ahead of them. He stared straight up at the stars, wondering what it was doing there. It could in no way be related to Gimmel’s fantastic theory. Still, it was unusual to see one of them remain in the same position for more than a day, and this made him worry.
The islands had set paths and rarely, if ever, deviated from them—the flying ships normally took care of any side tours they needed to make.
With any luck, the island would be well on its way by the time he and Larana made it to Caeldanage.
On their fourth day, the trees thinned around them, giving way to large, open fields. Their view no longer obstructed, the large floating island stood out before them, a dark blot in the sky. Torren couldn’t keep his eyes off it, a heavy feeling of foreboding filling him as it appeared it wasn’t going to leave.
“Torren, what is that?”
Even before he glanced her way, he knew what Larana was asking about. He wasn’t mistaken—she was pointing straight at what he’d been looking at all along.
“What do you think it is?”
She glanced sharply at him, obviously surprised he’d answered her question with a question. “I–I don’t know. I’ve seen it before, or others like it, but never this close. Aunt Ban would only say they were the same as leaves in the river and float randomly from place to place—a wonder to be watched from far away. But this one isn’t like those. Are they something more?”
He frowned. Had those who raised this girl been ignorant? Why hadn’t they taught her what every other child in the region already knew, regardless of whether they believed any of it or not? He shook hi
s head, not wanting to follow the strange track of thought.
“They’re a gift from El. It’s where most of His people live.”
“The Chosen?” she asked, her eyes growing wide.
“Yes.” He gazed once more at the far-off island. “The First Mother gave of Herself to create the world. She then created the other gods then the animals and, finally, man.”
Larana turned to stare at him raptly. He watched her reaction from the corner of his eye. Had she heard none of this before?
“Having given so much of Herself, the First Mother sat back to watch Her handiwork grow and prosper. The other gods watched with Her, until They grew impatient and came to the world.” He was amazed at the ease with which the words came; it had been a long time since he’d thought about any of this. They were just tales, after all.
“The First Mother was still too tired from Her labors to interfere and so didn’t stop them.
“The gods played with the animals and the humans. Sometimes, They were kind to them; at others They were not. The gods were young, new—the same as everything around them. They didn’t understand the cycle of life and death, for They, like the Mother, would never die.
“Time passed; the gods grew. They picked different areas They wished to hold domain over. Valem chose fear and death, Tani chose birth and hearth, Suw chose luck and mirth, Ran chose warriors and conflict, Yeska chose knowledge and magic, Talloon chose nature and miners and Zoole chose greed and money. All chose, all but El. He, like the others, possessed no real understanding of the humans but, unlike Them, He wanted to rectify this problem, He wanted to know why these creatures—made by the Mother, who’d also made Him—acted as they did.”
He glanced at Larana and saw she was captured by the tale. At the moment, she looked younger than her years, the wonder on her face that of an infant. It plagued him, but he went on.
“El left the world and sought the Mother. He told Her of His need to understand and the one way He’d come up with to reach this understanding.” He paused a moment. How many times had he heard this part of the tale himself? “It is said the Mother was so proud of Her son, so full of joy at His decision, that the night almost seemed like day, Her smile was so bright.”
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