The Innkeeper's Son

by Jeremy Brooks

  An hour later he went to the front door to call on Captain Nelson. He had to wait for Nelson to finish relieving the contents of his stomach before he gave him his orders. Ready a Trevloc for a flight to Nal’Dahara. Call ahead to the infantry there and give descriptions of the criminals. Get some men to dispose of Hisha’s body and clean up the mess. Tell no-one what he had seen.

  Chapter Ten: A Single Beam of light

  Sim opened his heavy eyes with regret. He hadn’t wanted to wake up. His dreams had been filled with memories of his parents, bittersweet moments re-lived in slumber. In a snapshot of a simpler time, he dreamt of Sevin, taking him along the Othoran road by horseback to visit some wheat farmers that were old friends. They had talked the whole ride about life, death, and loyalty. About responsibility and potential, history and women. Sim had been young at the time, and it was his first trip away from Dell. Caramour had seemed so big then. The Othoran plains had felt so endless. It was a moment that Sim could recall feeling like an equal rather than a son. Sevin for all his stern looks and angry admonishments could turn a phrase with surprising eloquence and make you see his point of view as though it had really been yours all along.

  The dreams of Bella had been even more heart-wrenching. Over and over again he dreamt of her sitting by his bedside, whether he was a toddler or simply a sick young man in need of his mother's comfort, telling him stories of events that until only a few days earlier, he had assumed were myths and legends. The Battle of Three Queens, The Princess and the Soldier, and The Island of Light and Dark were just three that seemed to repeat the most. In his dreams he could feel the placating comfort of her voice soothingly reciting stories he’d heard a hundred times before as she stroked his hair and waited for him to fall asleep. Would he ever again know that kind of safety and peace? The idea made him want to weep.

  The skies over the Tarrenth Ocean were gray and overcast. Rain fell lightly around the outside of the dome. The waves seemed to heave in giant swells like hands reaching to pull the soaring trevloc down into its gray depths.

  Sim sat up and watched the ocean with a sense of awe. In Caramour, the weather was almost always sunny and warm. When rain fell, it fell briefly. He couldn’t even remember a storm in his homeland that might have caused the waves to swell so strongly.

  Farrus lay on the bench across from him sleeping on his back, a soft snore occasionally interrupting his measured breathing. Givara stood beside Enaya who was having a conversation with Retta, the trevloc handler. Sim wondered briefly what the women were discussing, but dismissed his curiosity knowing that Enaya would never tell him.

  It must have been early morning because Sim remembered falling asleep sometime after nightfall. It was remarkable to him that the trevloc could fly for such a long time without needing rest. Trevlocs were truly marvelous creatures. As he looked out over the outstretched wing gliding on winds that pushed the ocean currents, he wondered how he had never heard of them. How much did he really have to learn about the world? Sevin and Bella had apparently worked very hard to keep him sheltered and innocent. There was something endearing about that thought, but more than anything, Sim felt frustrated that it felt like he was so far behind everyone else.

  For a long time he sat alone with his thoughts watching the ocean pass beneath. His mind wandered back and forth between thoughts of Maehril, the princess, his new powers, the Blood Lord and Navan Prianhe.

  Prianhe wasn’t dead. Sim was sure of that much. He had learned to trust his visions over the years and when he knew something was going to happen, it always did. Prianhe was going to put a sword into his chest. How was he going to fulfill some age old prophecy if he knew he was going to die? There was something he was missing. Some detail about that dream on the rainy cliff was eluding him. Why had that sound distracted him? That sound had given Prianhe the opening to end their duel. The question that plagued Sim now was, if he knew already that a sound was going to distract him, would he still turn and look? The ramifications of the philosophy made his head spin.

  Ahead in the distance, land appeared on the horizon. During the course of their flight over the Tarrenth Ocean, Sim had seen several small islands pass beneath them, but nothing that stretched across the whole horizon. They had reached Perth at last.

  As the trevloc came up to the rocky coastline, it turned hard to the left, taking a course due north. Sim watched with wide-eyed excitement as the turbulent ocean waves crashed against the wall of gray boulders that lined Perth‘s shores, sending violent white spray high enough to nearly touch them. He looked inland at endless fields of tall sturdy, yellow grass, and short leafless trees with curled, twisted branches ending in round knots. It seemed lifeless and cold. It was nothing like his lush, green homeland.

  Several minutes after turning north, the trevloc made a turn inland, flying low over the barren plain. Givara and Enaya took seats at Retta’s behest. The rider took a firm hold of the reins, pulling back with great effort. The trevloc pulled its wings back, catching the air rather than gliding across it. It slowed considerably as it descended toward a flat expanse of yellow grass and landed smoothly. Retta let the reins fall and turned to them. With closed eyes she muttered something under her breath and waved her hands in an arc over her head. The dome seemed to evaporate around them. Suddenly Sim could feel the wind that was pushing those ocean waves, and it was strong and cold. In fact, Sim had never felt a breeze so cold in his life. It nearly took his breath away.

  “This isn’t a platform at a resting station, so you’ll all have to jump down.” Retta told them.

  Farrus awoke with a cough and a loud clearing of his throat. He stood up and stretched his limbs, moaning loudly, unaware of Givara’s amused look. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, surprised to see they had landed.

  “How long was I out?” he yawned.

  “Long enough, guardsman,” Givara answered with a smile. Sim still wasn’t used to seeing her smile. She was so stoic and serious all the time that when she did smile, it almost seemed forced.

  “Well, then. Let’s get to it,” Farrus said. He stretched one more time then stepped to the rail and hoisted himself over landing on his feet but falling over awkwardly an instant later.

  Givara’s smile split her slender, birdlike face from ear to ear. She took two steps at a run and leapt down, flipping tightly twice and landing gracefully right beside Farrus.

  “Show off,” Farrus grumbled, looking up at Givara. She offered a hand up, and he took it.

  Enaya pulled out a fat leather purse and handed it to Retta who took it with a sigh of resignation.

  “You’ve done us a great favor, Retta,” Enaya said, putting a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder.

  “So you say, Lady Relador. So you say.” Retta held the purse in one hand, staring down at it with doubt-filled eyes.

  “I think you’ve made a good plan. Follow it,” Enaya encouraged her. Retta looked her right in the eye and appeared about to say something, but let it pass. “I promise you, Retta, you’ve done the right thing. All who oppose Desirmor are now soldiers in this new war. The world is on the verge of a great change. Go with honor, knowing that you’ve played a part in that.”

  “Save your speeches, Lady Relador. I believe what you’ve told me. I no longer need to be convinced.” Retta looked at Sim with an air of skepticism. “You have a lot to live up to, young man,” she said to him. “Don’t fail us.”

  Sim nodded absently. He wasn’t sure how much Enaya had told her, but he felt uncomfortable knowing that Retta now had expectations of her own for him.

  He took the moment of awkward silence that followed to hop down off of the trevloc. The ground he landed on was soft and wet. He didn’t land as gracefully as Givara had, but he didn’t fall on his backside either.

  Enaya came to the rail and looked down at him. Sim guessed that she expected him to catch her, so he held out his arms and waited. Sure enough, she stepped over the rail and fell into his waiting arms. She wasn’t heavy, so it w
as no effort at all for him to haul her in. For a quick moment he held her there, enjoying the warmth of her body against his. Enaya didn’t resist him, and their eyes met briefly. It felt comfortable, but he knew he couldn’t hold her there all day, so he gently placed her on her feet.

  Retta waved goodbye from above, and after a quick incantation, the trevloc trotted off a few steps and leapt into the air. The four of them stood there and silently watched it soar off into the distance.

  Seeing it beat its long wings and glide made it seem majestic, to Sim. He laughed to himself as he remembered the fear he'd felt the first time he had seen one soaring over his head at the docks back in Carleton.

  “There’s a road a short walk inland,” Enaya announced, pointing out their direction. She began to walk as she spoke. “Nal’Dahara will be a few hours walk to the north.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Nal’Dahara,” Farrus grunted offhandedly.

  “I’m afraid much has probably changed since your last visit,” Enaya answered him. She held her dress up as she walked to keep the hem from catching any mud. “The last known rebellion happened just outside the city some fifteen years ago now. It was a small affair. Once the weight of the Imperial army arrived, it became a slaughter. Thousands were killed. The city itself has since fallen on hard times, mostly due to unreasonable taxes levied by Desirmor in the wake of the rebellion. Crime is still relatively low as there is still a sizable military presence within the city, but there is a large Cortella outside the city now.”

  “Excuse my ignorance, Enaya, but what’s a Cortella?” Sim had a lot to learn and didn’t care if his questions got under her skin.

  “Cortellas are shanty towns, Sim,” she answered without a hint of irritation. In fact she sounded glad to give a lesson. “Some people live in such poverty that they can’t afford a true shelter. These people usually band together in areas near a city’s outer limits, living in tents or huts. Most spend their days either peddling small trinkets or begging for coppers on the streets. We must be careful as we approach the city. Cortellas are known hiding grounds for cut thieves and other types of small time criminals. A group our size would seem easy prey to an organized group of bandits.”

  They walked quietly after that. The clumped tufts of long yellow grass and soft muddy patches made walking difficult. After about an hour they found the road and finally started moving at a faster pace. The road was wide and cut all over with rivets from traveler’s carts. They stayed to one side which seemed to offer the smoothest surface. Givara took the lead, with Farrus at the rear. Sim and Enaya walked side by side.

  The air was cold and the gusting wind gave it even more bite. Sim was freezing. He clutched his arms around his midsection, rubbing his exposed arms with his hands in a failed attempt to warm them. He looked around at his companions to see if anyone else was suffering as much as he was, but none of them showed any visible signs that they were cold. As he began to feel his teeth chatter, he wished he’d had time to plan ahead and purchase a cloak back in Carleton. It was an odd sensation. He tried to clamp his mouth shut, but no matter how hard he concentrated, his teeth still clicked away uncontrollably.

  Enaya noticed. She studied him with concern. Despite her sleeveless satin dress, she seemed unaffected by the brisk wind.

  “Are you alright, Sim?” she asked.

  “I’m freezing,” he stuttered.

  Enaya raised a questioning brow. She looked back at Farrus who watched the countryside protectively, then at Givara guarding their front. “It’s not that cold, Sim.”

  “Maybe to you. I’ve never been away from Caramour. You saw what the weather was like there. This is the coldest I’ve ever felt.”

  Enaya thought about what he said for a moment and then smiled. Her smile turned into outright laughter.

  “You think this is funny?” Sim couldn’t believe she was laughing at him.

  “I’m sorry, Siminus.” Enaya made an effort to control herself, but she still had an amused smile on her face. “It’s not funny. I guess I just needed a laugh. I didn’t mean to make fun.”

  Sim softened his attitude. He supposed she was right. The last few days had offered little in the way of amusement. Besides, it was nice to see her smile. She could be so infuriating at times that he could forget how beautiful she was.

  “You can use the power to warm up, you know.”

  “The power? What do you mean?” To warm up, he was just about willing to try anything.

  “It’s a matter of concentration. I’ll admit, I don’t know how it will work for you. All trivals are different, and if Farrus is right, you aren’t even a trival.”

  “Maybe so, but how does it work for you? What makes trivals different?”

  “Well for starters, there are so many different kinds of trivals. I’m what’s considered a healer. That’s where my power is focused. I can do other things too, of course, but healing is my strength. You see, the trivarial power is like an energy that connects everything around us. To use it, you have to harness that energy and focus it. I can use air to make a chair move or conjure a flame, but not with any real strength. What you did to Navan Prianhe back in Carleton, I could never have done. However, if you put a wounded man in front of me, I’ll make him good as new. In fact years ago, I healed a man who had been run through the stomach with a broad sword. He was near death, but I managed to bring him back.”

  Sim’s ears perked up at that last revelation.

  “You healed a man who’d been stabbed with a sword?” She nodded, satisfied that he appeared impressed. “That’s incredible, Enaya. Truly. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked him, confused.

  He hadn’t realized he said it aloud. Enaya watched him, waiting for an answer. Sim wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her about the rainy cliff in his future. It didn’t make any sense for him to keep it to himself, but something held him back.

  “I just mean that it seems that a lot of people want me dead.” He met her skeptical glare with a forced mask of sincerity. “It’s nice to know I’ve got you to watch my head. That’s all.” Enaya didn’t seem satisfied with his explanation but she let it go. “So, you said there were all kinds of different trivals. What can other people do?”

  “Well, you met Retta. She’s known as a rider. Riders can communicate with animals. Then there are talkers, they can communicate with other talkers across great distances. Pushers can use air. Most of them work on ships and traeggars. Blazers use fire, Lakers use water, and Quakers use earth. The rarest are travelers. Travelers can go anywhere in the world instantaneously, and most can transport people with them. Travelers are very dangerous. Often they are used by Desirmor as assassins.”

  “What do you mean they can go anywhere?” Sim had a picture in his head of a person appearing out of thin air.

  “A traveler could be standing right in front of you, and in the blink of an eye, they could be standing on the docks in Carleton.”

  “That’s amazing,” Sim said with eyes full of wonder. Then a thought occurred to him. “Can I do that?”

  Enaya looked at him and laughed. “I have no idea, Siminus. No-one knows what you’re capable of. If I had to guess, I’d say that using your power isn’t much different from the way I use mine. It’s all about focus and concentration. How did you pick me up and flip me upside down?”

  Sim thought about it. It had only been the previous morning, yet it felt like it had happened a long time before. He’d spent that whole morning trying to pick up and move objects with his mind. There had been many failures that morning, but eventually he was able to figure it out.

  “When I hold the gem,” he told her, taking the orange stone out from under his shirt and holding it out for her to see, “I just have to concentrate on what I want to do, and I get this feeling that floods through me. It’s like an energy. Actually I’m not sure how I’d describe it. It’s like feeling invincible and totally at peace, all at the same tim
e. The gem gets hot too. When I do something with the power, even when I have visions, it gets hot.”

  “Sim I want you to try something,” Enaya said. Her big round eyes, like two flashing sapphire jewels, blazed with hope and excitement. “I want you to hold that gem, and imagine yourself encased in a warm bubble. Be careful, though. You need to be very specific in your design. Try to imagine the temperature within the bubble as being just right. Give it a try.”

  Sim did as he was told. As they continued to walk, he made a fist over the orange gem and let his mind form the image Enaya described. To create the perfect temperature, he thought about evenings in Dell, just as the sun was ready to slip beyond the horizon. It took only a moment of concentration before he felt the gem become suddenly hot. A bubble took shape around him, like a runaway sud from the laundry tub. Within the bubble which extended in a wide circle with several feet of clearance, the air was perfectly warm.

  He looked at Enaya who had stopped walking and seemed concerned. She was shouting at him, but he couldn’t hear her. A quick look around told him that Farrus and Givara were also shouting at him. He focused again, concentrating on the bubble dissipating, and suddenly heard their shouts as the bubble melted away. The cold air once again attacked his exposed arms and pushed a chill back into his core.