Reflection: Harbinger of the Phoenix (Records of the Ohanzee Book 2)

by Rachel R. Smith

  Desta’s jaw fell open as the thought of nightmares reminded her of the other extraordinary event that happened this evening. In all of the chaos, she had almost completely forgotten about her dream—her prophetic dream.

  Chapter 19

  Crossing the Bridge

  Nerissa’s head sank and then bobbed up again when her chin touched her chest. Meanwhile, Alba plodded slowly, but steadily, uphill behind the wagon, oblivious to his rider’s struggle to stay awake. After two days of almost non-stop travel, it required all of Nerissa’s effort to keep her eyes open. Sleeping inside the moving wagon was less about resting and more about enduring a steady series of bone-jarring jolts. If they had used the paved main roads, perhaps the ride would have been less bumpy. But the group had restricted their travels to the tertiary routes. Taking them was necessary to minimize contact with the locals and make their path as difficult to follow as possible—just in case the Senka were already on their trail. While these routes were strategically advantageous, they also contained more rocks and ruts than smooth surfaces.

  It would have been petty to complain about the lack of comfort—especially when there were others in the group who were truly suffering. Poor Leal had regained consciousness shortly after Jarold and Eloc found him, but had been experiencing frequent headaches and dizzy spells ever since. They were severe enough to keep him confined to the wagon. Cole and Eloc had stepped in to split driving shifts with Jarold so that he would have an opportunity to rest as well.

  Even though Raysel’s injury had not hindered him during the fight, Nerissa could tell that it was causing him quite a bit of pain. She was tempted to blame herself for it since he had taken on two men at once only to prevent her from directly participating in the fight. But Nerissa knew that no matter how much she protested, and no matter how good her sword skills were, as long as Raysel could hold a sword, he would stand between her and danger. So, instead of feeling guilty, she insisted on being the one to treat his wound—although she was secretly relieved that Cole had been the one to stitch it closed. Three times each day, she diligently applied one of Ildiko’s salves and wrapped his arm with a fresh dressing. Even now, the medicinal odor of lavender oil blended with Raysel’s familiar scent and drifted behind him like a pungent cloud.

  Some of Nerissa’s exhaustion lifted when she crested the hill, and a breathtaking view of the Yoshie River Valley spread out before her. Scattered across the rolling grasslands on the other side were groups of grazing cattle and sheep. Riders on horseback and their dogs carefully tended the herds. The sky above the river was dotted with hot air balloons that were arranged in a neat line following the edge of the water as far as the eye could see. The tranquility of the bucolic scene was interrupted by the sounding of a horn as a black canister hurtled down the rope of the nearest balloon.

  While the group descended the shallow slope, Nerissa studied the massive stone tower that dominated the shoreline on the opposite side of the river. Two long, cylindrical arms jutted out from the structure at an upward angle, with what she assumed was the deck of the drawbridge itself pulled tight against them. The dirt path that the group was traveling on rejoined the main road not far from the bridge. As she watched, a person jogged out of the tower and retrieved the black canister.

  “That doesn’t look very inviting,” Eloc remarked, only partially in jest. “Do they always keep the bridges raised?”

  “Hania said that Alden had tightened security at the borders. Keeping the drawbridges up must be one of those measures, since the river is too deep and swift to cross any other way,” Raysel said.

  Any further explanation Raysel intended to offer was drowned out by a bellowing from the tower. “Proceed to the booth and use the speaker inside,” the voice commanded.

  Indeed, about a quarter mile ahead of them, was a booth with a funnel-shaped object on top. Despite the aching in his arm, Raysel prodded Borak into a gallop, riding ahead to reach the place before the rest of the group. After dismounting, he stepped into the booth, which was featureless except for a slender tube that extended down from the ceiling. It ended in a circular opening roughly level with his chest. A sign directly above it read Speak Here.

  Raysel leaned in closer to the mouthpiece. “Hello,” he said uncertainly as his amplified voice resounded outside.

  “Oh!” he exclaimed when the function of the tube became obvious.

  The voice from across the river boomed out again. “State your intentions.”

  “We request entry into Rhea for the purpose of trade,” Raysel replied.

  “Do you have a pass? There is no entrance without prior authorization. If you do not have a pass, an application for one will be provided to you. There will be a minimum wait of three days for approval.” The information was recited in a monotone voice, as if they were being read from a pre-determined script.

  “We already have a pass,” Raysel answered patiently.

  “I will send over a canister. Place the pass inside for authentication,” the voice instructed.

  A black container then emerged from the side window of the tower and zipped down a rope connected to the outside of the booth. A man leaned out the window, holding on to a second rope that was attached directly to the canister itself. It came to a sudden stop with a hollow clunk. Raysel walked over to Borak’s saddlebag and withdrew the letter of safe conduct that Hania had provided. He curled the paper slightly so that it would fit inside the container, taking care not to dislodge the wax seal. Once he tightened the cap and let go, the man reeled it back up.

  Less than a minute later, someone dashed out the tower and mounted one of the horses picketed nearby. They galloped off in the direction of the capital. The timing of the departure was too coincidental for it to be unrelated to his request for entry, but Raysel wasn’t sure if he should interpret it as a good sign or a bad one. He supposed that he would just have to wait and see.

  “Let me try the speaker too!” Cole proclaimed from the driver’s seat as he brought the wagon to a stop on the road next to Raysel. “I want to see how loud it can make my voice!”

  “Definitely not,” Rian said sternly. He rode up beside the wagon, leading both of the extra horses.

  Raysel shot Rian a sideways glance as he asked, “How does he still have so much energy?”

  Rian shrugged. “I have no idea, but I could really use some of it right now.”

  One of the wagon’s windows slid open as Nerissa and Eloc rode around from the other side. Desta’s head popped out just in time to see them and she directed a scathing look at Eloc before pointedly turning away. Clearly, she was still holding a grudge against the twins for peeping on her—and justifiably so. “Are they going to let us through?” she asked Raysel.

  “I don’t know yet,” Raysel answered. “I guess we will find out within a few minutes.”

  Desta pulled her head back inside and relayed the answer to Jarold and Leal, who were also in the wagon with her.

  Nerissa was relieved that the girl hadn’t been too upset with her after the incident at the hot spring. Things had been awkward between them until Nerissa explained that “Caeneus” viewed her as a younger sister and had been too focused on scanning for signs of the intruder to actually look at her. Desta had readily accepted the story, but she still turned slightly pink whenever their eyes met. It would have been easier if Nerissa could have told her she was also a girl, but that obviously wasn’t an option.

  “You may pass.” The words suddenly reverberated from the tower speaker. There was a loud clank and the rhythmic clicking of chains as the drawbridge slowly lowered.

  Nerissa let out a sigh of relief. Even with Hania’s letter of safe conduct, she hadn’t been entirely convinced that they would be allowed in. If Alden had denied them entrance, there would have been no way to search for books in Rhea.

  The rushing water of the river churned up a wet mist that enveloped the group as they crossed in a cacophony of clopping hooves and rumbling wheels. Although Rhea was the
largest province in terms of land area, most of the population lived in or near the capital. It was the historical capital of Renatus, which made it one of the oldest cities still in existence. Since its age predated the formation of the provinces, the city was located unusually close to the border. It was little more than an hour’s ride from here. Nerissa’s chest ached with longing at the thought of a fluffy—and stationary—mattress.

  The last horse had barely stepped off the wooden deck and onto the pavement when the bridge began to rise once again. A lanky guardsman emerged from the tower with Hania’s letter in hand. “You should proceed directly to the city and seek an audience with Governor Alden. He will be expecting you,” the guardsman said as he handed the paper to Raysel.

  Raysel’s eyebrows rose, but he did not question the instructions. So the messenger was sent to inform Alden of our arrival, he thought. While it was possible that Alden had requested to meet with any travelers who entered Rhea, Raysel suspected there was an ulterior motive behind this summons.

  “Very well,” he said out loud, stowing the letter once again before addressing the group. “Let’s not keep the Governor waiting.”

  He nudged Borak into motion ahead of the wagon, and Nerissa hastily brought Alba up alongside him. Their horses had been trained together as a wagon team so they naturally fell into step with one another. Raysel leaned closer so that he could be heard over the sharp clacking of the horses’ hooves on the pavement.

  “I think Alden marked Hania’s letter in some way to identify us,” he said. “I saw someone leave the tower immediately after I sent it over.”

  Nerissa’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, making the dark circles under her eyes seem to grow larger. “If he is half as clever as I’ve been told he is, I would expect him to do that. I certainly would want to be aware of the Ohanzee’s movements if I were in his position.”

  “You’re right, but it still makes me feel uneasy. I’m used to being the one doing the monitoring, not the person being watched.”

  Nerissa gave him a tired smile and stifled a yawn. “We had no intention of hiding who we are in the first place. So, even if Alden knows who we are ahead of time, it really makes no difference in the end.”

  “Just be aware that I plan to introduce you as, Caeneus, the appointed Heir. He may know who we are, but he doesn’t need to know who you really are,” Raysel said.

  “That makes sense,” Nerissa concurred as she eyed his arm. “You’re holding the reins with your left hand. Is your injury bothering you?”

  Raysel stared straight ahead, avoiding her concerned gaze. The wound throbbed constantly, but he wasn’t willing to admit it. “It only hurts a little,” he lied. “I’m trying to rest it as much as possible so that it will heal faster.”

  Nerissa knew he was lying. The subtle differences in the way he moved showed her that he was in pain. But, rather than calling him out on it, she simply said, “Regardless of what happens with Alden, I’m looking forward to going to bed early tonight. We are all in need of a good night’s sleep.”

  Raysel nodded in agreement and said no more. The two rode along in silence after that with their thoughts focused on the city that lay at the end of the road.

  **************************************

  Nestled in the foothills of the Northern Mountains, the capital city of Rhea sprawled across the slopes in layers like the unfolded petals of a camellia. The seemingly random placement of streets and buildings that comprised the outer city gradually grew closer together and became more organized as they neared the wall encircling the inner city. That organization was not disrupted by the natural bends and curves of the tributary that flowed down from the peaks, cutting the capital in half before continuing on to its confluence.

  An escort awaited Nerissa and the Ohanzee inside the gates of the inner city. They were led directly to the Governor’s surprisingly humble home. It stood at the end of a row of quaint townhomes, separated from its neighbor just enough to allow room for a narrow walking path. The only visible distinction between this house and the others on the street was a bronze plaque mounted beside the door.

  “Welcome to Rhea,” Alden called out heartily from the porch. Nerissa was startled to see a bear cub sitting at his feet. Or at least, she thought it was a bear cub until it echoed Alden’s greeting with a cheerful “arf.” He reached down and scooped up the dog, whose tail wagged so vigorously that its whole back end swished side to side. “I’m afraid that there isn’t room inside my study for all of you. Please send in two representatives for a brief meeting.”

  Alden’s outward attitude was friendly, but Nerissa wasn’t sure if it was sincere. He asked to meet with representatives, not the merchants themselves, she noted. Had that been a slip of the tongue?

  “Caeneus and I will meet with the Governor,” Raysel said as he and Nerissa handed their horses’ reins to Eloc.

  As she followed Raysel down the walkway, Nerissa studied Alden in an attempt to learn something more about him from his appearance. He had a reputation for being eccentric, and the way he was dressed reinforced it. Rings gleamed from every one of his fingers, though they were not covered with the finely cut gems that Nerissa’s mother had favored. Instead, they were decorated with uncut crystals. In that way, his taste in jewelry was not so different from her own. A series of necklaces, also adorned with rough stones, hung in layers against his chest. Alden’s wavy black hair was tied together at the ends, separating it into individual locks that brushed across his shoulders. Woven into them were tiny beads and clusters of bells that tinkled softly as they were stirred by the breeze.

  “My name is Raysel, and this is Caeneus,” Raysel said after climbing the short set of stairs to shake Alden’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Governor Alden.”

  “Please call me Alden. I dislike formalities,” he replied.

  The bear-like dog in his arms woofed softly. There was a twinkle in Alden’s eyes when he glanced down at the bundle of fur. “You’re right, Kuma. It was very rude of me not to introduce you too.” He looked back up at Nerissa and Raysel while patting the dog’s head and said, “This is Kuma.”

  Kuma’s ears perked up, and he barked once approvingly.

  “This meeting should only take a few minutes,” Alden said, motioning for them to follow him inside. “You’ll be free to seek a meal and accommodations for the night as soon as we are finished.”

  The interior of the house was as unusual as its owner. Where most people would have placed trinkets or family pictures, Alden had mechanical devices in a myriad of sizes and shapes. The air was filled with the constant clicking and whirring of gears. Nerissa could tell that one of the contraptions was a type of clock, but the rest had no discernable function.

  Upon reaching the study, Alden closed the door behind them and stooped to put Kuma down. Tiny bells attached to the dog’s collar jingled as he padded behind his owner to the desk. He waited attentively until Alden dropped into the high-backed chair before curling up on the blanket beside the desk. There were two chairs for Nerissa and Raysel to sit in, but they both chose to remain standing.

  “Few traveling merchants have made their way to Rhea in recent months. I am a collector, an engineer, and an inventor of many things,” he said. He waved his hand toward the shelves, which were littered with more gadgets than most homes had dust. “What sort of inventory do you have for sale? Perhaps you have something that would be of interest to me personally.”

  Wouldn’t it make more sense to have this meeting in the wagon if you’re interested in our wares? Nerissa thought, but she remained silent.

  “Can I trust that this conversation will be kept private?” Raysel asked instead of answering Alden’s question.

  A sly grin crept across Alden’s lips. “Is your merchandise so valuable that you can’t discuss it openly?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes,” Raysel said, completely unperturbed by Alden’s expression. “We are no ordinary merchants. We are members of the Ohanzee.�
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  Alden’s grin turned into a satisfied smile. “It is good that you are being upfront with me, since I already know that you are with the Ohanzee. I would have been…displeased…if you hadn’t been honest.”

  Nerissa concentrated on keeping a neutral countenance, but there was an unspoken threat in Alden’s statement that set her teeth on edge.

  Unfazed, Raysel ignored the insinuation and smoothly continued his story. “We are here as part of a mission to restore Chiyo’s independence from Casimer.”

  “That is certainly an endeavor I would consider supporting,” Alden replied. “But how am I to know that I will like the new ruler of Chiyo any more than I like Casimer?”

  Nerissa flinched as her tightly clenched teeth suddenly slipped with a jaw-popping crack. Her abrupt movement attracted both Alden’s and Raysel’s eyes to her. “I am the new Heir of Chiyo,” she asserted, trying to play it off like she had meant to draw their attention.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Alden said haughtily as his piercing eyes locked with hers. “I had a great deal of respect for Her Royal Highness Rica because she was wise enough to leave the administration of Rhea’s affairs to me and did not try to exploit our wealth for her own purposes. After the attack, Casimer sent a messenger here in a weak attempt to convince me that his rule would be no different, but I have already seen what he does to people who prove to be an obstacle to achieving his goals. So I will rephrase my question and ask it again. How am I to know that I will like you as the new ruler of Chiyo?”