Sall explained his desperation, and his decision to talk to Mey. Both Tavi and Misty smiled and nodded as they heard about their mother’s response. Mey had always opened her home and her heart to those in need. Sall then related the argument he’d overheard between Mey and Jevva.
“When your father expressed a desire to help, your mother retrieved a paper from your room, Tavi,” he said. “It was a map to the Meadow.” At this, Tavi and Tullen shared a smile. Sall continued, “She told him that Tullen might be willing to catch up with you and help with the search. I asked if I could come along, and the next morning, your father and I left for the Meadow. We took Shem and Jilla’s last horse and took turns riding. It seemed wise to use the long route, so we could travel on roads instead of through the forest. It took two days, but we made it there.”
“And you were allowed into the Meadow?” Tavi asked.
“We were turned away at the gate,” Sall said. His voice grew angry. “Emphatically turned away, even though we explained the importance of our visit. But Tullen saw us from the guard tower, and he came into the forest to find us a few minutes later.”
“And you came,” Tavi said to Tullen, unexpected emotion dense in her voice.
“I came,” he said, his eyes meeting hers.
“Why were you in the guard tower?” she asked.
He laughed and shook his head. “I was supposed to be getting a new perspective on things.”
“What about our father?” Misty asked. “Where is he?”
“He took the horse back to Oren,” Sall said. “We knew we could go much faster if Tullen could run, and he couldn’t carry me and your father at the same time.”
There was a pause. Tavi was grateful to hear her father had wanted to assist his daughters, but she couldn’t help the hurt she felt. She wished he had come with Tullen and Sall. Finally she voiced her question. “Are there any—other reasons our father didn’t come?”
Sall’s eyes met hers, and she saw compassion there. “He wanted to come. But he didn’t think his body could handle days or weeks of walking.” Tavi nodded; her father’s knees were weak. “Also,” Sall added hesitantly, “he wasn’t sure you’d want to see him.”
Tavi’s heart sank. When Misty took her hand and squeezed it, Tavi didn’t let go. She and her father would have a lot to talk about when she got home. But for the first time in many weeks, she wanted that conversation.
“We appreciate you both coming,” Misty said. “I think we’re in good shape now, with all the gifts the three of you have. Not to mention my astonishing intelligence and personality.”
That elicited smiles from everyone. They continued to walk and talk, the miles passing more easily for Tavi than they had on any of the previous days. Even the gloomy skies seemed somehow full of hope. As they conversed, however, Tavi did not ask the one question that pressed on her more acutely than any of the others. Tullen, why did you come?
For some reason, the question scared her. It would have to wait.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
When you fail, try again and again,
That your perseverance may be rewarded.
Nonetheless, you may continue to fail—
Such is life.
-From Proverbs of Savala
Tavi looked around the table. There was Misty, the sister she could always count on; Sall, her smart, kind friend; and Tullen, who had come back.
And at that moment, she didn’t like any of them.
What was more, she was convinced they felt the same way toward her. Hours before, they had arrived in Benton, a small city. Eager to find information on the two men and the missing girls, they had begun visiting inns and taverns. The venture had been almost pointless, and now they were hungry, sweaty, and frustrated.
Tavi was nearly ready to renounce magic. Using her speech gift to question one person after another, only to be told they hadn’t seen the described travelers, had been infuriating.
After numerous failures, they had found an innkeeper who had seen the two men. He had even heard a female voice coming from the enclosed wagon. Upon hearing that, Sall had looked as if he might attack the man to find out more information. Tullen had kept Sall in check as Tavi had continued to ask questions, ultimately learning that the man had no idea what direction the travelers had gone.
Dinner arrived, and once they had eaten enough to sate their ravenous hunger, they discussed their plans for the next day. The best option, they concluded, would be to split up so they could talk to more people. If Tullen, Misty, or Sall met someone who seemed to know something but was hesitant to talk, Tavi could visit that person later, speech gift at the ready.
Tavi again examined her tablemates. Now that she was no longer hungry, she found the three of them . . . tolerable. It would take a good night’s sleep to get her back to the point where she liked them again.
“No one wants to talk to me except to ask why such a young girl is in a public house by herself,” Tavi seethed when she met her friends for lunch the next day. “Before I can even activate my gift, the entire room is offering to help me find my parents.”
As planned, the four travelers had gone different directions all morning. At lunch, they had no further leads.
“We should have thought of that,” Misty told Tavi. “Fifteen isn’t too young to walk around town alone, but you look at least two years younger than that.” At this, she received a pronounced glare from Tavi. “It’s all right, you’ll be grateful for that in another fifteen years or so.”
Tavi raised an eyebrow. “That makes me feel so much better.”
Ever the optimist, Tullen said, “This means meeting for lunch was the best thing we could have done. We’ll make a small adjustment to our plan. Tavi and Misty, why don’t the two of you stay together this afternoon?” Misty agreed with the suggestion, and Tavi reluctantly conceded. So much for being enough, she thought.
Tavi’s mood turned around, however, when she saw the immediate difference in how she was treated when she was with Misty. In the locations they visited that afternoon, fellow patrons greeted them with amiable smiles. No one offered to find Tavi’s parents.
At the first three pubs, the sisters learned nothing more than who had the best tea (the second location), and who had the cleanest toilet (the third). When they did find someone who could help them, it happened more naturally than either of them would have expected.
They were at their fourth pub of the afternoon, and they both ordered tea. They were the only customers in the room. As they sat at the bar, Tavi grasped Misty’s arm and squeezed. It must have been harder than she’d intended, because Misty squealed—but she followed Tavi’s eyes to the barmaid behind the counter. Her eyebrows rose.
The young woman had cut a loaf of bread in half, and she was examining the two pieces from every angle, her head glowing as golden as an autumn sunset.
“Talk to her,” Tavi whispered.
Misty turned to the barmaid. “Excuse me.”
The woman put down her knife, released her magic with a small shake of her head, and approached Tavi and Misty. “Can I get you something else?” she asked, her voice eager and friendly.
“No, though the tea is delicious,” Misty said. “I simply wanted to ask about your mind gift. I’d love to hear about it.”
With an open smile, the woman said, “Oh, sure! I’m Brindi.” She extended a hand first to Misty, then to Tavi, who both introduced themselves.
Brindi pulled a stool up on her side of the bar, her eyes bright with enthusiasm as she talked. “I have a mind gift,” she said, “but of course you know that! My gift allows me to see and understand details in a way I normally can’t.”
“How were you using it with the bread?” Misty asked.
“I have a little secret,” Brindi said, her voice lowering. “By this time next year, this pub will have the very best bread in Benton—possibly in all of Cormina.” Tavi and Misty both smiled, and Brindi gave a little laugh. “I’ve discovered that if I activate my
magic before examining the bread, I notice so many things I wouldn’t have understood before. I see details in the texture of the crust and crumb, and how they have changed from the previous loaf, and—oh, I’m going to bore you, but suffice to say that within a couple of minutes, I know that bread more closely than I know my own mother. I keep thorough records,” she said, pulling out a notebook and flipping through pages covered in pencil notes and diagrams, “so I can determine what’s working and what isn’t.”
Misty was leaning forward, soaking in every word that Brindi said. Tavi feared that her sister’s passion for bread-baking was overriding their true goal. “How long have you cultivated your starter?” Misty asked, and that led to a detailed discussion of hydration levels, rise times, and baking temperatures.
After several minutes, Tavi decided it was time to steer the conversation back on track. “What a wonderful use of your gift!” she said.
“It’s probably silly, but it makes me happy,” Brindi replied. “I’d love for you to try the bread!” Tavi and Misty eagerly agreed. As she spread butter on two slices of bread, Brindi continued talking. “It’s funny, this is the second time this week that someone from out of town has come through, wanting to know more about my gift! A scholar came in a few days ago, and he had questions too.”
Tavi and Misty exchanged eager glances. “What did he want to know?” Tavi asked.
And that was all it took. Brindi told them of the handsome young man who had entered her pub a few days before, asking her all about her mind gift.
“Was he gifted?” Misty asked.
“I don’t know,” Brindi responded. “But he had a very interesting story. He said he was traveling with another friend. They’re both studying magic for some monks that live in the Savala Mountains. He asked me how I feel when my gift doesn’t work. Apparently they’re studying magical resistance. Well, these days, I don’t encounter much resistance—I guess Sava likes bread as much as I do.”
Tavi forced herself to laugh, but the story about monks reeked of deception. She knew about the monastery outside Savala; her sister Tess was a monk there. It wasn’t a scholarly monastery; it was contemplative, focused on prayer. The monks were extremely private; Tavi didn’t see any reason they’d send out traveling representatives.
Brindi continued, “I told the man I think it’s good for Sava to place limits on magic. He kept asking me questions though. He seemed to want me to admit that I get angry when my magic doesn’t activate—but I don’t.”
“I’ve never heard of traveling magical scholars!” Misty said. “Did you talk about other things too?”
“He told me my bread was the best he’d had in months.” She grinned, and Tavi and Misty nodded in agreement. “And he was very interested in our Blessed community here in Benton. He wanted to know about who the most gifted people are, especially young people like me. And then he asked whether any of our Blessed are old or close to death. He wanted to know names, and where he might find them. I suppose he has a lot of research to do!”
“A handsome man who’s also a scholar,” Misty said, a faraway look in her eyes. “I’d love to meet him myself!” She winked at Brindi. “What was his name?”
Brindi giggled. “It was Jay—but I have to admit, if he comes back, I may give you some competition for him! He was far more interesting than the men in Benton!”
Misty’s eyes were so glazed with romance, she almost fooled Tavi. “I don’t suppose you know what direction he went?” Misty asked dreamily.
Brindi shrugged. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even see him leave. I turned around, and he was gone. He’d left money on the countertop for his meal. He tipped well!”
Misty tipped well too, and she and Tavi said their goodbyes. Finally, a few pieces of the puzzle were in place—and this time, Tavi hadn’t needed to use her magic once.
When Tavi and Misty arrived at the inn where they had all planned to meet for lunch, Sall and Tullen were waiting in front of the building. “We’re going, now,” Sall said, and he stepped into the street and began walking.
“What’s this about?” Tavi asked Tullen. “I’m hungry.”
“Sall will explain on the way,” he said. “It’s important.”
As they walked, Sall told them that he had, on a whim, visited the city’s midwife house. In many towns and cities, the midwife house served as the center of the town’s magical community, and he hoped they might know something useful.
When the midwife had heard Sall’s story, she’d told him a story of her own. A few days earlier, one of her magical students had met a man claiming to be a scholar. He’d visited her father’s butcher shop and asked her several questions about gifted residents in Benton. She’d reported the conversation to the midwives, one of whom had confirmed what Tavi already knew: The monks outside Savala would not have sent out traveling researchers.
Later, the student had delivered an order of sausages to the supposed scholar at the Three Horse Inn where he was staying. She’d confronted him with the lie he’d told. He had brushed it off, and she hadn’t pressed. But as she had left, she had heard him say, “Let’s get out of here” to an unseen fellow traveler.
Sall led them all to the Three Horse Inn. The owner immediately resisted when Sall approached him with questions. Tavi glanced at Tullen, activated her speech gift, and took over the conversation, asking about two men who may have arrived in an enclosed wagon.
“Sure, they looked like city boys,” the owner said, his gruff voice emanating through a nest of gray whiskers. “They told me they wanted to sleep right inside that big wagon of theirs, and they asked if they could keep it in my barn.” He pointed to a large barn across a small field. “I demanded a hefty advance payment, and they obliged. I left them alone after that. They’re long gone now.”
“Let’s go look in the barn,” Tavi said.
“No need for that,” the man replied.
Tavi’s frustration rose. Her speech gift only compelled answers, not action. If they could get in the barn, they might find some clue as to the direction the men had gone. When Tavi pushed, however, the owner did not budge. Finally she gave up, asking, “Did you see any girls with them, about my age—or a little older?”
“Just the two men.”
Tavi shoved aside the mental image of Narre, cooped up in an enclosed wagon for days on end. “Do you remember anything at all about them?”
“They stayed out of my way; I stayed out of theirs. I remember nothing in particular.”
“When did they leave?”
With dirty fingernails, he scratched his balding head. “I reckon it was four days ago.” His visitors sighed; their unsuccessful investigative work in this cursed town had resulted in the gap widening between them and the people they sought.
Tavi’s magic was extra-warm against her lips as she asked the crucial question. “And where did they go from here?”
The answer came readily. “I have no idea. I didn’t see them leave.”
Four pairs of shoulders fell. Tavi’s magic fled her body, along with her hope. She and her fellow searchers began the trek back to their inn.
Their speed was perhaps half what it had been on the way there, every step weighed down with dejection. Even Tullen’s customary confidence had been stifled.
They were quiet for the first half of the walk. Sall had picked up a handful of small rocks and was throwing them as far as he could into the fields on the south side of the road. Finally, he spoke. “We can’t give up.”
He was met with responses of, “We won’t,” and “Of course not,” but there was little enthusiasm behind the words.
“We should go to Savala,” Sall declared.
“But those men aren’t really scholars, and they’ve probably never been to that monastery,” Tavi protested. “We have no idea if they’re going to Savala.”
“I know,” Sall acknowledged. “But think about where we came from and where we are now. Of all the large cities within traveling distance, Savala seems to
be their most likely destination.”
“How do you know they’re in a large city?” Misty asked.
Sall threw another rock, hitting the side of a barn this time. “It’s the most reasonable conclusion. It’s a lot easier to hide people in a crowded city than a small town.”
Or they could be hidden in the middle of nowhere. Tavi left the thought unspoken. As difficult as searching in Savala sounded, scouring large stretches of nearly uninhabited land would be impossible.
“I think we’ve dried up our leads in this town,” Tullen said. “Let’s travel toward Savala tomorrow and see if we can pick up their trail again.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I came close to being married once. And through the years, I have dreamt of what it would be like to love and be loved completely. But I have observed many families, and I have come to realize how rare that gift is—deep, unconditional love. Marriage is not rare, but this type of love is. It is difficult not to think back on the one I cared for, wondering if he could have given me that.
-From Midwife Memoirs by Ellea Kariana
“Tavi! Wake up.” Tavi’s dream was interrupted by urgent words and a hand on her shoulder, which she shook off with a groan. “Wake up!” the voice insisted.
Tavi opened her eyes. In the thick blackness of the room, she couldn’t see who was standing next to her, but as she became more alert, she recognized Misty’s voice.
And then she heard something louder—thunder. Tavi sat up, alert, and made her way to the small window in their room, bumping into Misty and a chair along the way. The street outside was invisible until nearby lightning lent it false daylight for a split second. As the sisters stood at the window, large raindrops began to tap it in a slow cadence. This escalated into rain so heavy it shook the glass.
There was another tap, this time at the door. Misty made her way there and, upon opening it, found Sall and Tullen. Stepping aside, Misty let them in.
Facing the Sun Page 27
