Tullen placed a lit lantern on the room’s tiny desk, and the four would-be travelers sat on the two beds. Tavi was the first to speak. “I hope this storm passes quickly like the last one did.”
“If it doesn’t, we'll need to wait for the roads to dry somewhat before we leave,” Tullen said. “The good news is, if our lying scholars are in the path of the storm, they’ll be in the same boat.”
“That’s a poor metaphor; a boat would probably be the best mode of transportation at the moment,” Sall pointed out.
The storm showed no signs of letting up. The thunder increased in volume, and the rain struck with such force that Tavi worried the window would break. No one seemed inclined to sleep, so they sat or reclined on the bed, talking quietly.
The day before, their discouragement had prevented them from fully thinking through their travel plans. They began to discuss how Tullen’s gifted feet might assist their pace. After half an hour contemplating various options, they decided to pay the inn’s owner to board their horse. They would leave town on foot to avoid the extra attention that came with Tullen’s gift. Once out of sight, Tullen would take one person on his back. After several miles, he’d drop off that traveler and go back for another.
Tullen’s gifted running pace was several times faster than any of them could walk. Even though he would have to take them all separately, they would save time. Perhaps more importantly, they would save energy. Tullen’s gift allowed him to run for about two hours. At the end of that time, he wouldn’t be sore; his magic would simply be depleted. Thankfully, it only took about half an hour of rest for his gift to return.
With a plan in place that might allow them to close the gap between themselves and Narre, the mood in the room took a positive turn. Misty, however, expressed concern that Tullen wouldn’t be able to carry her. To prove it, he activated his stride gift, and she got on his back. Once there, she was so nervous that she nearly strangled him. Tullen was forced to toss her on a bed so he could breathe. Misty giggled, and the others followed suit. They tried to stifle their merriment to avoid waking any fellow guests who hadn’t already been disturbed by the thunder, but the attempt backfired. They gave in, roaring with laughter, releasing the tension of the previous day.
The rain was heavy for two hours—long enough to make the roads too muddy for travel. When the downpour shifted to something gentler and quieter, Sall and Tullen returned to their room. The four of them slept late into the morning.
None of them would have chosen a day indoors, but the muddy roads made it the only viable option. They did their best to stay busy, trying to distract themselves from their helpless situation.
Sall taught them a complicated card game. He was the only one whose strategy was effective, but they all made valiant attempts. Next, Tullen showed them the Meadow’s most popular poker game. They gambled with dried beans the cook gave them. Misty ended up with most of the beans, and Tavi was sure her older sister would never let her forget it.
The inn’s owner, who lived in a small house steps away from his place of business, surprised them by bringing out several books from his personal library. They each chose one, and when Tullen’s book ended up being the only one worth their time, he entertained them by reading several chapters aloud, complete with ridiculous character voices.
As Tullen read, Tavi watched Sall. His eyes were far away; she knew he must be thinking of Narre. She understood; she too had found it difficult to keep her mind at peace during the quiet activity of the day.
At dinner, they ate thick lamb stew, a meal that seemed made for a chilly, dreary day. The rain had stopped completely, so after dinner, the four of them made their way to the large, covered back porch, where several lanterns were lit. Most of the other guests had gathered there; it seemed everyone was eager to spend time outside after being cooped up in a stuffy inn.
Tullen and Sall sat on a bench, leaving two wooden rocking chairs for Misty and Tavi. They all wore coats to ward against the cold. After an hour, the chef had pity on all the guests and brought hot tea to the porch.
The conversation often steered toward Narre and Reba—where they might be, whether they were safe. But this line of discussion always resulted in frustration because of how little they knew, and Tavi felt a sense of guilty relief every time someone changed the subject.
As the evening wore on, all the other guests went inside to their warm rooms. After sleeping so late, however, Tavi and her friends weren’t ready to go to bed. The chef brought more tea, and a reflective silence fell.
So much about this trip felt wrong to Tavi. She had never dreamed that her first time traveling so far from home would involve coercing information out of strangers, hoping to find one of her closest friends. Tavi’s eyes were drawn to Tullen, who was gazing out at the dark yard beyond the porch. Having him here felt right and good. She wondered how long it would be before he returned home to the Meadow. She attempted to force the intrusive thought away, but it settled in her chest, a slight ache.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tavi noticed Misty watching her with a small smile. Turning to Sall, Misty said, “I’m ready for some of that pumpkin bread, how about you?” The chef had left the bread in the dining room for anyone who wanted it, but Sall and Misty had been the only ones in their group who had expressed any interest.
“Sure,” Sall said, appearing relieved to be drawn out of his thoughtful state. A moment later, Tavi and Tullen were alone on the porch. Tavi gave him a smile, and as she did so, she shivered with the cold.
“Stay there—I’ll be right back,” Tullen promised. A couple of minutes later, he returned with a quilt. He put it around his shoulders, sat back on the bench, and said, “Get over here; you’re freezing.”
Tavi was content to sit on the other end of the bench, wrapping the edge of the quilt around her. But Tullen scooted over, placed his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her close. Tavi was suddenly warm, and she sighed, letting herself relax into Tullen’s side.
They sat that way for several perfect minutes, Tavi silently reflecting that she might never go to bed. Her mind wandered, eventually settling again on Narre, and she was surprised to find tears escaping her eyes. She wiped them away.
Tullen sat up, examining her face in the lamplight. “What is it?” When she didn’t answer, he murmured, “Is it Narre?”
Tavi nodded, and Tullen wiped a fresh tear off her cheek. “It must have been so hard for you these past days,” he said, his voice barely loud enough for her to decipher his words.
Again, Tavi nodded. Tullen settled back on the bench, nudging her head so it leaned on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
She didn’t know if he’d heard her until, several seconds later, he answered, “Me too.”
Their short exchange had brought the question back to Tavi’s mind: Why had he come? Once the question was there, she couldn’t rid herself of it. Tavi sat up, holding the quilt around her shoulders but turning her body to face Tullen. His eyebrows rose in an unspoken question. Just ask, she admonished herself. You’re staring at him, and it’s getting awkward. So she let the words slip out. “Why did you come back?”
Tullen sat up straighter, turning just as Tavi had, his eyes not leaving hers. “When I received the message from Sall and your father, I was already packing my things—I had planned to return to Oren the next day.”
That wasn’t what Tavi had expected. She didn’t respond with words, but apparently her surprise was written on her face, because the quiet rumble of a laugh escaped from Tullen’s chest. “I was coming back,” he confirmed.
“Why?” It wasn’t much more than a whisper, and Tavi was surprised she had the breath for even that one word.
Tullen inhaled deeply, then sighed the air out, his eyes sliding to the side, his face thoughtful. When he again looked at Tavi, there was an intensity to his gaze. “After I returned to the Meadow—that day I said goodbye to you—everything was different. I saw my home in another light.” T
ullen shook his head. “I could talk about this for hours, and I’m sure we will, but it came down to one thing. I realized how much I hated being told to choose between the people I care for. And then it occurred to me: nobody in Oren was asking me to choose. Only the Meadow would require that.
“I thought about it for weeks. Eventually I knew I had made the wrong decision. Not that choosing the Meadow was wrong. Choosing at all was wrong. By choosing, I was supporting the Meadow’s unwillingness to welcome new people and new ideas. But I don’t agree with that. Last week I did what I should have done in the first place. I told the elders I would not choose between the Meadow and the outside world.”
“What did they say?” Tavi breathed.
“They said if I left, I would not be allowed to return.”
“Oh, Tullen. Your family!”
His eyes glistened in the lantern light, and Tavi knew hers did as well. “I know,” he said. “I spoke with my parents and a few others. I think they understand.”
“But you’ll never see them again?”
Tullen’s mouth tightened, and she saw the muscles in his jaw clench before he spoke again. “I will try,” he said. “I refuse to choose, Tavi. I will do what I can to visit my family, and if I am turned away every time, that will be the choice of the elders. I hope that eventually, they will change their minds—or be replaced by others who will open their eyes to look beyond the walls of the Meadow.”
Tavi reached out her arms, giving Tullen a tight hug. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” He let her go, pulling back to see her face. “Tavi . . .” he started. He looked toward a nearby lantern as if trying to find words there. After several long seconds, he turned to her again. “What I told you is true, but—that’s not all.”
“What do you mean?”
His voice was quiet and earnest. “Tavi, I missed you.”
She felt a sudden need to blink several times, and her mouth moved without any words coming out. Feeling like a fool, she asked, “You missed me, and Sall, and Narre? And my family?”
He laughed, and it was full of kindness. “No, Tavi. I missed you.”
Clarification—she needed clarification. “Like a sister, you mean?”
That small laugh again. “It’s been a long time since I thought of you as a sister.” He let go of the quilt, which fell off his shoulders, and his hand reached out and tentatively touched the side of her face.
Tavi’s heart pounded so urgently; she was sure Tullen could see the pulse in her neck, her temple, even her lips. Then his hand found hers, pulling it off the quilt it was holding. When the covering fell to the bench, Tavi found she didn’t need it. Tullen held her hand, turning it to face upward, and traced it with the fingertip of his other hand—each of her fingers, and her palm. She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold air. Then their palms were together, and his fingers wove in between hers, and they both closed their hands at the same time.
A sudden rush of warm magic flooded every bit of Tavi, head to hand to toe, fueled by a desire entirely different from any she had felt before. Tullen let out a delighted laugh. Tavi was struck with messages from every gift at once. Unwilling to be distracted by them, she directed the magic into only her hands. It flowed where she instructed it. Her touch magic drew in the sensation of Tullen’s heartbeat, strong and fast. Tavi’s mouth spread wide in a joyful smile.
Then Tullen was holding her other hand, and he pressed his lips to her glowing palm. There was that shiver again. Next his hand was on her hair, her cheek, running down the length of her arm, back to her hand. His eyes found her face and stayed there.
After a moment, Tavi asked, “My speech gift isn’t active, is it?”
“No.”
“Oh—you keep looking at my lips.”
And again he laughed. “I can’t stop looking at them,” he said. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Tavi’s first instinct was to argue, to give him a line about looking like a nine-year-old boy. Instead, she allowed herself to smile. “You too.”
It wasn’t the most eloquent response, but Tullen must not have minded at all because he touched her lips, first with his fingertips, and then with his own lips.
She melted into the kiss. It felt natural and good, full of life and youth, more perfect than anything had a right to be. Her hand still clasped his, and her magic absorbed the pulse of both of their hearts, racing to see whose could beat the fastest.
When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead on hers. “My glow bug,” he whispered. And she kissed him again.
Chapter Forty
While some labors progress in a predictable way that gladdens the hearts of midwives and mothers, many do not fit established patterns. A woman’s pains may for a time become further apart rather than closer together, or shorter rather than longer.
An unpredictable labor is discouraging for the mother. She will need your assurances that even when the road is full of switchbacks and stones, it still leads to the promised destination.
-From Midwifery: A Manual for Practical and Karian Midwives by Ellea Kariana
“Tavi and I kissed last night.”
Tullen’s words received reactions as varied as his tablemates. Sall’s eyebrows rose. Misty laughed and clapped, giving a brief hug to Tavi, whose face was red as an apple. Tullen, meanwhile, winked at Tavi and continued eating his eggs.
“I can’t believe you said that,” Tavi said, her head shaking, hands held to her hot cheeks.
“What?” Tullen asked, his wide eyes conveying confusion that Tavi didn’t trust for an instant. “Why would you want to hide that?” After a moment, he gave Tavi an apologetic smile, but his eyes were sparkling. He took her hand under the table. “Sorry,” he said, sounding anything but.
“Let me guess, in the Meadow, all of this is spoken of openly,” Misty said. Hearing Tullen’s affirmative grunt, she murmured to Tavi, “You can take the boy out of the Meadow, but you can’t take the Meadow out of the boy.” Seeing Tavi’s continued consternation, Misty gave her a kind smile. “It’s all right, it’s not as if it’s a surprise.”
Tavi tried to resist, but her mouth rebelliously broke into a grin. She interlaced her fingers with Tullen’s and didn’t let go until she discovered that using a fork with her left hand was impossible, and she reluctantly reclaimed her right hand.
“I, for one, had no idea,” Sall said. “But I’m happy for you.” He held up a forkful of breakfast potatoes, as if toasting his two friends. His smile, however, had a touch of sadness to it, and Tavi knew who he was thinking of.
The sun was out, but the roads were a mess of sticky mud, so they spent one more day at the inn, playing games, reading, and waiting for their travels to resume. Their patience wore thin, and they were relieved when the clouds were held at bay by a bright sun.
The next morning, they checked out of the inn, told Miss Mella goodbye, and walked through the town. Each of them carried a small bag of supplies. They headed east again, taking the road that led to Savala.
After half an hour of walking, they were far enough from Benton to avoid most curious eyes. Tullen first took Sall on his back, running ten miles. When he returned to Tavi and Misty less than three quarters of an hour later, they had walked two miles on their own. Tullen picked up Misty, carried her to meet Sall, and then came back for Tavi.
He greeted her with a mischievous smirk and a kiss that made her glad she didn’t have to walk on her wobbly legs. She hopped on his back, and they raced down the road. Tullen was even faster on roads than he was in the forest, and Tavi laughed aloud when he got up to his top speed. Twice, they stopped for quick kisses, and though it didn’t make their trip noticeably longer, Misty gave them a knowing smile when they arrived.
As Tullen had used his gift for nearly two hours, they rested for half an hour, letting his magic replenish. Sitting in dry grass next to the road, they basked in the bright sun.
After the break, Sall again jumped on Tullen’s back
. Tavi and Misty were surprised when Tullen returned just a quarter of an hour later. “There’s a small town a few miles from here,” he told them. He carried first Misty and then Tavi to meet Sall, and they began to walk the last half mile into the town.
As she usually did, Tavi had kept an eye on the mile markers. “We’ve gone almost twenty miles today, and it’s not even lunchtime!” They soon found an inn where they paid a few quads to freshen up in the well-appointed bathroom. Once done, they had an early lunch in the attached pub.
Luck was on their side. A girl who appeared to be several years younger than Tavi and Sall served their lunch. At first she was hesitant to answer questions about visitors to their establishment, but once Tavi activated her gift, the girl was eager to gossip. She told them all about the handsome man who, several days earlier, had driven up in an enclosed wagon. He had come inside to eat and to order food for the road.
The girl’s description included no new information. She turned to help another customer but then came back to the table. “I almost forgot!” she said. “He tried to pay with a bank note—can you imagine? Of course we told him we only take chips and quads, no big-city bank notes.”
Speech gift still activated, Tavi asked, “Which bank?”
“Savala Bank and Trust,” she answered. “I remember it because it sounded very trustworthy, but my pa told me it doesn’t matter what bank it is; we won’t take their notes. He also told me the word ‘Trust’ means something different when it’s in a bank name.”
“What a good memory you have!” Misty said. The girl smiled and returned to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, their entire table was subjected to glares from a man that Tavi guessed was the girl’s father—and the pub’s owner. It seemed he didn’t take to curious customers any more kindly than he took to bank notes. They rushed through the rest of their meal and left the pub.
Facing the Sun Page 28
