“Nothing in there or her hair,” the merchant says as he release Sari. He turns to the head guard, but keeps a tight hand on the gypsy’s shirt collar. “Have a female guard strip the young woman completely and put her in a simple dress. We don’t know how many more daggers and lock picks she has on her.”
“Too scared to strip me down yourself?” Sari asks, smacking Luke’s hand away from her mouth.
“My wife wouldn’t approve,” Wayland replies as he returns to his room. “I will always be loyal to my Brea and no whorish gypsy will tempt me. Tell the guards what you want to eat and they will have a servant bring it to you. We shall speak again after the battle.”
Luke thinks he sees the flurry of a white skirt dart out of view before the door closes and locks. He is about to mention it to Sari when a guard’s spear presses against his back, forcing him to walk down the hall. Through his sound sight, he catches a glimmer of the woman’s voice, but it distorts into garbled static. The half-elf pushes his senses a little further and a hideous screech erupts in his head. His ears bleed and he collapses, grabbing Sari by the arm and taking her down with him.
*****
Luke wakes to a gentle hand on his forehead and rough cloth against his cheek. Rolling over, he can tell that his head is in someone’s soft lap, but he is too groggy to remember who he was with before he lost consciousness. When his eyes focus, he sees Sari smiling down at him and a pang of guilt kicks him in the stomach. With a groan of pain, he rolls off the couch and looks around the bizarre cell. There are two chairs and a small table, all three of which are covered in scratches and dents. The couch that Sari is on has torn cushions and the solitary bed is nothing more than a raised mattress with white cotton sheets. A wooden partition is set up around a corner, which Luke guesses is supposed to be a private bathroom.
“I’m as confused as you are about this jail,” Sari admits as she tugs at the uncomfortable, brown dress that barely reaches her knees. She skips to the bars and sticks her leg outside, smirking at the whistles of the guards. “I’m hoping to tease and flirt my way into a real dress, which is the opposite of what one normally uses those tools for. This thing is nothing more than a sack with the bottom cut off and sleeves attached. I’m going to have a full body rash if I don’t get some real clothes. Unless I go naked.”
“I’m sure that would do something,” Luke casually says while he climbs to the barred window. All he can see are the feet of patrolling guards and a nearby elephant, so he drops to the floor and sits. “Wayland probably has Timoran and Kira locked in her room by now. They have no idea he’s up to something, so they’re not going to fight back. Do you know where they put our weapons? Maybe we can escape and fight our way out of the manor.”
“Our gear’s in a locker at the end of the hallway,” the gypsy states. She slips her dress to the floor, causing the half-elf to face the wall. “I guess things must be going well between you and Kira. We’ve barely seen each other and now you can’t even look at my body. I shouldn’t be surprised since you’ve been avoiding eye contact for days. Does this mean you’ve chosen Kira over me and the contest is over?”
“It isn’t as simple as that,” Luke claims, placing his head against the warm stone.
“Explain it to me because I’m part of this. Or have you forgotten that I’m a creature with a beating heart?” Sari cuttingly asks while putting her dress back on. Not waiting for an answer, she storms across the cell and smacks the warrior across his shoulders. “You keep acting like this is the end of the world. Just make a decision and live with it. Pick her and I’ll respectfully keep my distance. Someone is going to get hurt, so stop drawing this out and choose who you love the most.”
“Shut up, Sari.”
“No because somebody has to push you to finish this.”
“This isn’t the time.”
“As if there’s a perfect time for something like this.”
“Stop talking.”
“I’m through being quiet.”
“Shut up!”
“Make a damn choice!”
Luke grabs her wrist as he spins around and kisses the girl hard enough to bend her backwards. Her arms curl around his neck while he lifts her off the floor. Turning around, he presses her against the wall and runs his hand through her dark blue hair. With a sudden growl, Luke breaks the kiss and backs away to the couch like a wounded animal.
“So you choose me?” Sari asks, touching her tingling lips.
“I don’t know,” the half-elf replies, shattering her blissful mood. He gathers the courage to get within reach of the gypsy again, barely able to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. “I love you, Sari, but I’m not really over Kira and we still feel that spark at times. I don’t want to choose one of you until I’m sure because there’s no going back once a decision has been made. It’s difficult because you and I will continue traveling together after this, so I can’t put you completely out of my thoughts.”
“Is that really a bad thing?”
Luke puts his forehead against hers, their lips within reach of each other. “It means I can’t focus entirely on what I feel towards Kira. That might still be part of the problem. I’m remaining distant from her because I know I’ll end up alone with you on the road. Things won’t change unless I hurt someone.”
“Then wait for the final hour and do what your heart tells you to do,” Sari whispers as she hugs him. She fights the urge to kiss his neck and tickle his pointy ear. “I’ll behave from now on. Thank you for the kiss and letting me know that you haven’t forgotten about me. I’ll be honest and say that I hope you choose me. That way we can spend the rest of our lives wandering and being happy.”
“I’m not going to be wandering my entire life,” the warrior says, pulling away from the gypsy. Worry and regret creep into his heart when he sees the fear in her emerald eyes. “There’s going to be a day where I want to settle down in one spot, have a family, and do something stationary. My family’s wanderlust doesn’t last forever like that of your people. I’d be fine with going on trips, but it wouldn’t be like it is now.”
“Of course things will change,” Sari states, slipping around Luke and walking to the bars. She hangs her arms outside, waving toward the distant guards to see if they are still sitting at their desk. “Maybe that’s part of the problem, Luke. If you asked me to marry you now, I’d say yes. If you wanted to settle down and have kids, I’d say no. That could change in the coming months or years. Is this what you’ve been thinking about all this time?”
“That and how one or both of us could be killed,” he answers, walking up behind her. He sighs and sits on a battered stool instead of holding her like he wants. “Kira seems to be the only one who knows exactly what she wants. You and I are enjoying what we have, but neither of us are thinking about the future.”
Unable to wrap her mind around what her companion is worried about, Sari takes a seat on the floor next to him. “Is it really that important to you? Can’t we be happy together and handle the future when it appears?”
“I want to, but I can’t be like you as long as I have even a small spark with Kira,” the half-elf explains. He tries to take Sari’s hand, but it is locked in place on her leg. “I know Kira has thought about marriage, kids, and a life after I’m done adventuring. We’ve spent a lot of time talking about it lately. Not with any certainty, but to see where our desires meet. You and I never really discussed anything more than the now.”
“Because I didn’t know I wanted you forever until recently. I spent too much time acting as Kira’s surrogate and denying that I wanted to be the one with you. I guess she isn’t the only one who was away for so long that she hurt her chances.”
A small cough draws their attention to the door where Eileen is pushing a cart of food into the cell. Two guards are waiting outside with their weapons drawn, but they do not appear to be worried about an escape. A delicious aroma fills the room when the calico lifts the cover off the platter of meat and bread, a sm
all pot of steaming stew in the middle of the display. She places the meal on the nearby table along with a pitcher of water and glasses before quietly leaving the cell. The guards lock the door and take the cart away, but Eileen gestures for the prisoners to come closer.
“My mistress sends her apologies about the situation,” the maid whispers as she turns her back to the guards. She pulls a square of blue fabric from her apron and slips it to Sari. “That is a folded dress for you. It is simple, but it should be more comfortable than what you are wearing now.”
“Thank you,” the gypsy says, stepping away from the bars.
Sari opens the dress, which has the image of an elegant shark running from the back of the right shoulder to the belly. There is a high neckline that flairs like a crashing wave and the skirt is fringed by fluff to resemble sea foam. She strips off the uncomfortable shift and squeezes into the dress, the top a little tight around her chest. Sari frowns at the high slit up the middle of the skirt and the short train dragging behind her.
“It was from a formal ball with an ocean theme,” Eileen tells the gypsy with a crooked smile. “I don’t believe my mistress expects the dress to survive its time with you. Though, she urges you not to attempt an escape.”
“Is she okay?” Luke asks with enough concern in his voice to make Sari scowl.
“Her father has put armed guards in front of her door and on her balcony. Mostly to keep Timoran in line. My mistress is due to meet with her father within a few hours. She will talk sense into him and get you released. Do you have a message for her?”
“Only that her father-” Sari begins to say before getting cut off by Luke having a coughing fit. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Some spit went down the wrong pipe,” the warrior states with a smirk. He sees a glint of understanding in his friend’s eyes and turns back to the maid. “Tell Kira that her father appears to be under a lot of stress. We don’t know what he was doing in his room, but he’s become paranoid about assassins. Whatever she does, she has to tread carefully and not upset him. I don’t want him mistaking her for a spy or a doppelganger.”
“I will deliver your message,” Eileen whispers, moving away from the bars. She nods her head and waves to the guards that she is done. “Eat your food before it gets cold or bugs get to it. The roaches in the desert get pretty big compared to the north.”
The thought of bugs eating her meal causes Sari to hurry to the platter and quickly make a sandwich of scorpion meat. She hands Luke a glass of water when he joins her, which he puts back down. His stomach rumbling, he makes himself a sandwich and quietly devours it while the gypsy eyes him suspiciously.
“Why aren’t you telling your fiancée about Wayland and that woman?”
“I have a feeling it’s too dangerous for her to know about that,” Luke answers, taking a seat at the table. He grabs a spoon and tries the stew, surprised to find that it has beef instead of a more exotic meat. “If Kira argues with him without letting on that she knows his secret then he won’t become as defensive. At this point, he might even try to kill her if he suspects she’s onto him. I wish Delvin was still here to help me figure this out.”
“No offense to Mr. Cunningham, but he’s not the one I want here,” Sari claims, her mouth full of food. Swallowing the large bite, she sees the question on Luke’s lips. “I want Nyxie here. She’d have this entire situation handled by the end of the day. At least she’d have taken Wayland down a few notches or set something on fire. Those monsters wouldn’t have been much of a problem either with her keeping an eye out for them. I wish she would stop playing around in the desert and get back to us. I miss her.”
“I miss her too. I’m sure she’ll be back and hurling spells around before we know it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Nyx wouldn’t leave us in a situation like this. Not even if the gods were standing against her.”
*****
Torches appear on the top of Bor’daruk’s wall as the sun sets, filling the sky with purples and pinks. The shadows of patrolling archers can be seen by the eagle-eyed warriors of the nomads. Nyx is more focused on the army slowly marching out of the front gate, a growing mass upon the sand that she wishes she could remove from their path. Crouched atop the dunes, the half-elf imagines tossing the soldiers over the wall and into the ocean with a wind spell. She stops the daydreaming when she remembers how Casandra could cast spells with a mere thought, a power that Nyx might have buried inside her.
“You would need to be trained to do such a thing. Also the soldiers are only doing their jobs, so there’s no reason to treat them so harshly,” Dariana states as she climbs up the dune. She pulls the tan cloak around her shoulders, the nightly chill enhanced by an ocean breeze. “I’m sorry for reading your thoughts. Sharne has been helping me control my powers, but you’re too potent right now. If you wished to attack that army, I would be impelled to follow.”
“You really need that ring,” Nyx says, barely paying attention to her friend. She turns away and heads for the encampment, lighting the bonfires and torches with a few waves of her hands. “My friends are within reach and we’re stuck here because of the stupid feud. If I attack then the battle begins and people will die before I can get to the others.”
“At least Misrae is bringing us as part of the diplomatic group. Even if we’re arrested, we’ll be brought within the city.”
“That’s a bizarre positive, but you’re right,” the half-elf states with a tired sigh. She sits on a crate and pulls her boots off, dumping the sand into tiny piles. “I’m sorry I didn’t spend much time with you out here. I got so caught up in researching Helgard, channelers, and the scepter that I was a terrible friend.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“For what?”
“The times we were together, I was practicing with Sharne.”
“You might want to avoid telling people stuff like that. It’s very rude.”
The two women duck into the tent that they have been using for sleeping and the occasional hour of solitude. It is filled with large pillows and a tarnished lantern hangs in the center of the crimson structure. Nyx sprawls on the low couch and has the orange flame dance around the ceiling. Dariana takes a nearby chair, unsure if she should speak to the half-elf or not. The silence lasts for several minutes with the fire moving more and more spastically. Nyx’s restlessness hits its peak when she hears bells go off and people can be seen running among the tents. She flicks the flame back into the lantern and restlessly paces through the collection of pillows.
“I can’t sleep, so don’t even suggest it,” she snaps at Dariana who slowly closes her mouth. “We’re so close to reuniting with our friends. They probably still don’t know about the Beast of Palqua. Luke is with Sari and Kira, which must have him ready to jump on a ship to Canst’s Fields. The others are probably worried sick and distracted. My family needs me and I’m trapped just out of reach.”
“It won’t be for much longer,” the other woman assures her friend. She closes her eyes and scans the nomads for any information about when they will approach Bor’daruk. “The plan is to leave at dawn and negotiate a meeting with the Grasdons. Any action or flares of power will instigate the gathering army. I’m sorry, but all we can do is rest and wait. If you want to continue venting then I’d be happy to listen.”
“Thank you, but that would get boring even for me,” Nyx says as she nestles within a pile of pillows. She lazily spins one above her head with a tight movement of her finger, which she gradually stops in a successful attempt to maintain a spell without gestures. “Is there anything you want to talk about to distract me?”
“Several young men have discussed relations,” Dariana explains, massaging her temples with her knuckles. “I believe they mean sex, but I don’t know how to tell them that I’m unable to perform such acts. The priestesses at the orphanage told me that it is forbidden for me to indulge in the flesh because of my lineage. If I was to have a child then it mig
ht prove to be something like my brother or father. Possibly worse.”
Nyx lets the pillow drop onto her face and chuckles. “Well this was a conversation I didn’t see coming. An odd change from what I’m used to discussing with Sari when it comes to this. I don’t think I’m used to being on the knowledgeable end of this either. You do know that there’s protection and medicines to help with that problem. Still you shouldn’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”
“My body is immune to most poisons and medicines.”
“So what’s so important about your mother?”
Before Dariana can answer, the tent flap is pushed open and Sharne hurries in. She is out of breath and her clothes are disheveled from being hastily thrown on. The holy woman collapses onto the pillows next to Nyx and yawns, nearly falling asleep. With a full body jerk, she wakes up and leaps to her feet.
“I’m sorry, but I was woken by some news that I wish to share,” Sharne states, bowing to Nyx. She pauses when she senses Dariana touching her mind and she blocks the other woman, pushing an apology across the splintering connection. “First, I’ve had a vision that only one guardian is left in the scepter. After it’s released and corrupted, the beast within will awaken and set the desert on fire. Second, Misrae and his men have captured a swordsman who was leaving Bor’daruk. They are interrogating him in the main tent and he mentioned your names. He doesn’t appear to be a spy or from the region, but the drite he was with has made my people fear that bigger dragons will be used.”
Nyx is on her feet and rushing out of the tent with the others on her heels. “Is it a large man with red hair, a mouthy half-elf with two swords, or a charming warrior with a longsword and shield?”
Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) Page 26
