Digging around inside the chest my pouch was linked to, I felt a paper-wrapped package. Hopeful, I pulled that out as well. It was a dried packet of travel bread. Handing the blanket to Rose, I unwrapped the paper, but I was disappointed to find that the bread had gone moldy. Such was the fate of even the best long-term foods, when left alone for ten years in a dark space. I made a mental note to create a small stasis box that would fit within the chest, so I could store food indefinitely.
The next time I’m marooned on a strange beach, this won’t be a problem, I promised myself, chuckling softly.
“What is it?” asked Rose, who had been watching me.
“Just laughing at myself,” I admitted. “I’m thinking about what to store in here for the next time I’m lost in a wilderness.”
Rose waved her arms at the beach surrounding us. “Doesn’t seem like such a strange idea at present.”
“Penny always said I was paranoid,” I told her.
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Where did you get the blanket?”
“Penny bought it for me.”
“And your moldy biscuits?”
I shrugged. “Penny.”
Rose’s eyes crinkled at the edges as she smiled faintly. “I don’t think she thought you were paranoid. She just enjoyed teasing you.” She sniffed at the blanket, then picked off what appeared to be a few dried twigs. “Lavender?”
“Yeah,” I answered, my eyes misting. “She said it would get stale in the chest, so she folded the lavender in with it to keep it fresh.” My throat tightened at the memory and I bent my head, putting my face between my knees. The past few days all I had cared about was surviving the week, but now, with the sun in my hair and a fresh breeze in my face, it all came crashing down again. I struggled to suppress my tears, but my shoulders began to shake despite my best efforts.
Soft wool enfolded me as Rose settled one end of the blanket around my shoulders, pulling me close. She didn’t say a word, or even try to hold me. She’d been a widow long enough to know that words don’t really help, and the arms of another would only be more painful while I was missing my wife. Instead, she sat close beside me, keeping the blanket pulled tight around us while resting her hand on my back.
For that, I was grateful.
When my storm had passed, and my cheeks had dried, she spoke, staring off at the waves. “It never goes away, not completely. Sometimes I go weeks or longer without it happening, then something will remind me and it all comes back, almost as painful as the first day. It could be anything, the smell of leather, or the shape of a shadow cast by a tree. It will trigger an old memory and suddenly I’m lost.”
My chest ached. “How do you bear it?”
“I don’t,” she replied. “In the beginning, I shared it with my children. It seemed natural. They were grieving too, and I wanted them to remember. But they were young, and their memories of him have faded over time, and with it their grief. I finally realized I was making it worse for them—they were healing, but I was just reopening old wounds, so I stopped letting them see it. I’d lock myself in my room and stay there until it had passed. As the years went by, I became convinced I was the only one. Dorian’s memory was my burden to bear, and it felt as though if I let go of that sorrow, it would be as though he had never existed.”
“That’s not true,” I told her. “I think of him often, and even if your children have forgotten, I’m sure Elise’s sorrow is as great as your own.”
Rose nodded, sniffing. “As a mother, I understand that. But for the lonely and broken-hearted, the truth is an inconvenience. We nurse our pain close to our hearts and pretend we’re the only ones who feel it.”
Thinking of Rose crying alone in her room, I wished we had done more for her over the years. Penny and I had kept her and her family close, trying to ease the burden, but it was impossible to save people from their private pain. I had spent enough nights in my dark and empty bedroom to understand that very well.
I took her hand in mine. “From now on we’ll remember him together. Next time it happens, don’t be afraid to share it with me.”
Rose leaned her head on my shoulder. “Alright, but only if you let me do the same for you.”
Chapter 39
Light returned to Chad Grayson’s world as Elaine released the invisibility veil around them, allowing the world to flood in, overwhelming his senses. They stood in a woodland glade, which to Chad’s mind was just a frilly way of saying a clearing in the trees. More importantly, where are the trees located?
“Elaine…” he began.
“Mm hmm?” she responded. By all appearances, Elaine was feeling pretty good about herself just then, though Chad couldn’t be certain. It might have also just been her normal ‘I was just nearly killed but now it turns out I’m still alive’ face.
He decided to be diplomatic, just in case. “I might be wrong. But this isn’t Mordecai’s house, is it?”
“Unless it’s the forest near his home,” suggested Cyhan helpfully. “But there’s no slope and the air smells wrong.”
“Of course, it isn’t,” said Elaine. “Rose thought it might be a bad idea to go there. It would be the first place they would look. We’re in the forest east of Albamarl.”
Chad glared at her. “Then the water I’m hearin’, that’s the Myrtle River?”
She nodded, a satisfied look on her face.
“How far east of Albamarl?” asked Chad, grinding his teeth.
“Not far, a mile or two. You don’t look very happy about it. I thought you’d be pleased,” she said.
The hunter turned and started off at an angry jaunt, heading in the direction of the river. The tips of his ears were turning red and gave the impression that ‘jaunt’ was perhaps a bit too whimsical a term to describe his walk. He was seriously irritated.
Elaine and Cyhan followed him, she with a puzzled face, while Cyhan appeared bemused. The big man already knew why his friend was angry. The situation might have irritated him as well, but he had given up on such things in recent years. He preferred to enjoy watching Chad be angry enough for all three of them. He’s better at it anyway, thought the knight.
“What’s wrong?” asked Elaine. “You’re a woodsman, aren’t you? Well, welcome to the woods!”
Chad didn’t look back. He continued striding forward, but he put one finger up in the air. “First, we are still within spittin’ distance of a whole passel of gods-be-damned wizards who all want us dead! Second, we’re in the fuckin’ woods, with fuck all to eat or drink.” He spun in place to face her, while walking backwards. “Emphasis on the word drink, sweetheart.” Then he spun back and resumed facing forward as he marched angrily along. “Third—”
“I should have known you’d be bitching about alcohol,” interrupted Elaine.
“Actually,” said Chad, his voice rising in pitch, “I wouldn’t mind a pull of McDaniel’s finest right now, you can bet yer magic ass on that one. But that wasn’t what I meant, unless yer referrin’ to a fuckin’ double entendre, an’ I know how much you fuckin’ wizards love fancy shit, make no mistake. What I meant was not only do I not have any whisky, but we also do not have any water.”
“There’s a river just ahead of us,” pointed out Elaine.
“Which we can’t drink, princess fancy-pants!” swore Chad. “Unless you like shittin’ yerself fer a week.”
She sighed. “We just have to make a fire and boil it first.”
“I’m sure you can make a fire, since I’m fresh out of flint and steel, seein’ as I didn’t expect to be on a long-distance trek through open wilderness,” bitched Chad, “but do ya have a pot to piss in?”
“Piss in?” said Elaine.
“It’s an expression. Do ya have a pot to put the water in, so we can drink it after ya boil it?”
“No, but I can hold it in a temporary shield, I g
uess. It’s not perfect, but we can manage,” she replied.
“Fuckin’ wizards,” swore the hunter. “That brings me back to my third point. We are not equipped for this shit. No tools, no weapons, no supplies, no tent,”—he rattled his empty quiver—“no fuckin’ arrows.”
“The world is my weapon,” intoned Sir Cyhan, a faint smirk on his face. He had been enjoying the ranger’s tirade immensely.
“Shut the fuck up!” said Chad, cursing the big knight. “I do not need that shit from you right now.”
“You can make arrows, though,” suggested Elaine. “We’re surrounded by trees, after all.”
Chad didn’t dignify that stupidity with a response. Not that she’d know how to appreciate my diplomacy anyway. He kept walking, but a sudden noise, actually more of a roar, brought him up short.
Elaine stared at him. “What was that?”
“Your teleport circle, it faded or died or somethin’ after we left, right?” asked Chad. He knew that Mordecai sometimes created temporary circles to prevent being followed.
“No, it was invisible, even to mages,” Elaine informed him. “It would fade after a week or two. I was going to erase the circle on this end after we arrived, though, just to be safe.” Her face went pale.
“And did you?” asked Chad urgently, but her expression had already answered the question. “Damn it all!” He started running for the river.
“Wait! I’ll make us invisible!” shouted Elaine, chasing him.
Cyhan passed by her, his long legs outpacing hers. “He can smell us,” he reminded her as he went by.
She was ten feet behind the knight when he reached the river’s edge. Chad had already waded in, but he wasn’t crossing. Instead, he was wading upstream. “Hurry up!” he yelled back at them.
Cyhan proceeded to follow, but Elaine hesitated, then began to follow them on the bank. The big knight leaned over and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the muddy water.
“Why aren’t we crossing?” she asked.
Chad wasn’t paying attention, though. He was busy muttering to himself. “We made at least two hundred yards before he showed up. If we stay in the water for a half a mile and he doesn’t catch sight of us…”
“Dragons fly,” mentioned Cyhan.
“He’s got to stay on the ground if he wants to track our scent,” said the hunter. “Besides, if she makes us invisible, he can’t spot us from the air.”
The three of them gathered together and Elaine settled a three-layered veil of invisibility over them, shielding them from detection by sight, sound, or magesight. Wrapped in darkness, the water rushing over and around their legs felt colder than ever.
Cyhan took the lead. Being the largest and heaviest he was able to forge ahead through the water with relative ease while Elaine and Chad followed in his wake. Each of them had a hand on the big man’s belt to make sure they didn’t get separated. It was still a slow slog, however.
“Shouldn’t we get under the water?” asked Elaine after a minute. “He can still smell us if we’re only half under the water.”
Chad’s teeth were already chattering. “Y—yes, and n—no. If he’s close enough and downwind of us he could, but we have enough of a lead that isn’t likely to happen. Plus the wind is blowing from the north side of the river, the side he’s on. Mainly we’re tryin’ to keep him from trackin’ us. There’s no scent trail over water.”
“Oh, good,” she replied. “I’m too cold to do that anyway.”
“I prefer breathing air myself,” said Cyhan drolly from the front. He was the only one not already shivering.
“Can’t you warm us up?” asked Chad hopefully, directing his question to Elaine.
“Not with the water rushing past. As soon as I warmed it, it would be gone. Also, there’s a kind of light emitted by objects, depending on their temperature. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but Gareth once told me he could see it. If we leave a stream of warm water behind us—well you get the picture,” she explained.
“Freeze or get eaten,” observed Sir Cyhan.
“I wish the weather was hotter,” said Elaine.
“Wouldn’t matter,” returned Chad. “The Myrtle is fed by snow-melt from the Elentirs. It’s fuckin’ cold all year ‘round.”
With the rushing water and no ability to see, they had trouble gauging their progress, and they had no idea whether Gareth had come close to them. For all they knew, he might be right beside them on the river bank. Their only choice was to continue slowly making their way upstream.
“Next time, pick a city,” said Chad out of the blue.
“T—then we wouldn’t have the river,” remarked Elaine.
“A few thousand other humans plus the usual sanitation problems in a city would more than make up for it. Scent trackin’ is a lot harder than most realize, even for a bloodhound. By now we could have been sitting in a bar, havin’ some hot mulled wine,” explained the hunter.
“Not beer?” put in Cyhan.
“I’m too cold to think about beer,” admitted Chad. “I’m pretty sure my balls have shriveled up to the size of peas by now.”
Time passed, though whether it was a half an hour or a full hour they couldn’t be sure, but eventually Chad and Elaine couldn’t take the cold water any longer. Their muscles were cramping from the continual shivering. Elaine removed the sound shield and opened the light shield in one small section, allowing them to survey the riverbank, which appeared to be clear.
At that point, the river had a deep, well-defined edge, so Cyhan got out first and dragged his companions up and onto the bank, since their arms and legs weren’t cooperating anymore. Once they were all ashore, they huddled together, and Elaine restored her veil.
The wind, which had seemed so pleasant before, was now a brutal knife cutting into their wet, shivering bodies. In spite of her previous warning, Elaine used some of her magic to warm the air around them, though it didn’t seem to sink in. She was cold all the way to her bones.
“Take off the dress,” suggested Chad, who was pulling off his jacket and boots. Though he couldn’t see her in the darkness, he could feel her angry glare anyway. “That wool has probably soaked up fifty pounds of water.”
She hesitated, and she grew yet more nervous when she felt Cyhan’s skin brush up against her. He had already removed everything but his trousers. Being mostly undressed in a dark bubble with two old men wasn’t really how she had imagined spending her afternoon. Reluctantly, she began to work her way out of the wool dress, which was so heavy it almost seemed made of lead. She had a lightweight linen shift on beneath it, which she knew would dry much more quickly.
Wrapping her arms around her knees, Elaine did her best not to come into contact with either of her companions. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them, or at least Cyhan, but the entire situation made her uncomfortable.
In contrast, the two men struck up a meaningless conversation with each other, which seemed odd given Cyhan’s usual verbal reticence, but after a while Elaine realized it was simply their way of dealing with their own awkwardness. While neither of them particularly minded her, the two men weren’t used to being mostly bare-skinned and in such close proximity to each other.
Somehow that fact made her feel slightly better.
“Next time, a city would be nice,” said Chad, repeating his statement from earlier. “Surencia, for example. I know an inn there that makes the best meat pies you ever tasted.”
“Surencia smells,” countered Elaine. “They don’t have proper sewers. I don’t know how they stand it.”
“I heard they were building sewers,” said Cyhan. “The World Road has been transporting ideas as well as trade goods.”
Chad snickered. “That reminds me of somethin’. Last year, Gram and I were stuck in a root cellar in Halam. We were stuck in close quarters fer quite a while, an it was pretty da
rk just like this.”
“Why would sewers make you think of that?” asked Elaine.
He shared the story with them, modifying it slightly. In his version, it was Gram who had been suffering stomach problems, rather than himself. “The smell was ungodly!”
They laughed, and then Elaine made a wistful observation. “Think this will ever be a fond memory like that?”
“I don’t know that I’d call it a fond memory,” said the hunter. “But it was funny.” Then, after a moment’s silence, he gagged. “Oh damn! Ya didn’t have to take my tale as a challenge!”
Embarrassed, Cyhan answered, “It’s never too late to make a new memory.”
Then the smell struck Elaine and she pulled her hair around to cover her face. Next time I go on some crazy mission, I’m going to insist that it’s just women, she thought sourly.
Chapter 40
Mosquitos are a sure way to ruin any outing. Living in a mountain valley for most of my life, I had always thought of them as an annoyance related to forested areas, not the beach, but as evening fell, they descended on us with a furious bloodlust that forced me to reconsider my previous notions.
Unlike most of the bizarre animals I had encountered in the region that replaced Lancaster, these were just normal insects, but that was probably because mosquitos had already reached the pinnacle of evil. They couldn’t get any worse.
“Is there anything you can do?” asked Rose.
There definitely was. I could erect a shield-like barrier that would allow air to pass but not small insects, something like a fine mesh. But that would take magic, and I was still conserving my energy. A simpler, yet infinitely more dangerous option would be to call on the void. Once, when I had been a shiggreth, I had discovered that my very presence killed everything near me, insects, plants, or anything else that got too close. It definitely wasn’t a viable option with Rose present. It really wouldn’t have been a wise option even if I were alone, but I might have made an exception for mosquitos.
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