Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  Delvin yawns and rubs at his eyes, his fingers lingering on the dark circles that have appeared after several days of exhausting travel. Glancing out the tavern window, he watches waves of heat rise off the river that cuts through the coastal city. He notices a small boat in The Scar and smiles as the tiny ship is directed by a young elf’s wand. The brown-haired warrior’s attention is stolen by the clatter of a plate and he turns to see that a sandwich has been placed in front of him. With a well-practiced flourish, the waitress adds a bowl of soup and a mug of ice water to his meal while Sari indulges in another glass of chilled cider. Delvin notices that his companion’s blue hair is matted and her natural glow has been diminished by the heat. Not for the first time, he considers suggesting that she return to their friends in the north and let him travel alone. The only reason he keeps his mouth shut is because Sari has stolen the Compass Key and he has spent the last two days trying to figure out where she has hidden the relic. Even Fizzle has been unable to see through whatever illusions the gypsy has constructed, which gives the warrior some comfort. Having two powerful casters on his side means he can finish his business in the jungles quickly and return to Nyx before she is done in Stonehelm.

  “Are you daydreaming about Nyxie again?” Sari interrupts with a playful twinkle in her emerald eyes. She casually fingers a red flower that is tucked behind her ear and leaves a trail of dew on the delicate petals. “I see that goofy smile starting to form in the right corner of your mouth. Anyway, we promised not to talk about the things that make us sad. So what’s going on with the ship, Cunningham?”

  “It’s not going to be easy to find someone willing to take us to the jungles,” Delvin replies, his mouth full of food. Taking a few sips of water, he swallows the bite and pounds his chest to avoid choking. “Sorry about the display. I was hungrier than I realized. Where did you get that flower?”

  “I found it on a bridge. Poor thing would have been trampled if I didn’t save it.”

  “That’s a memory iris. The locals place them at the site of murdered loved ones.”

  Sari gently places the flower on the table, unsure if she should hurry to return it to the bridge. “City people have strange customs.”

  “Fizzle go put plant back,” the purple drite declares, grabbing the stem in his mouth. His red dragonfly wings flutter and he darts out the window, creating a breeze that gives some momentary relief to his overheated friends.

  “It looks like we arrived at a bad time,” Delvin explains as he takes the metal shield off his back and props it against the wall. Made from crushed jewels, the winged stag emblazoned on the front sends a cascade of rainbow light across the floor. “There was a big pirate attack two days ago and the city had enough of a warning to send most of the civilian ships out to sea. I’ve been told that they decided to leave on various jobs and won’t be back for a while. Those that did stay were either damaged or are more suited for river travel than the open ocean. I asked about Captain Higgs, but he’s with Aedyn and Kellia in Gaia. Our choices so far are an Orcish garbage scow and a vessel that I’m pretty sure is run by a slave trader. The only reason I think that is because the captain was far too interested in talking about you. Guess sexy gypsies are a rare and valuable commodity in his business.”

  “I’m flattered, but sexy might be pushing it these days,” Sari replies, her hand going to her hip. She can feel the faint scar through her red and yellow skirts, a reminder of her last encounter with Stephen. “I ran out of healing cream before I could get rid of it completely, so people might see me as damaged goods. Nothing an illusion won’t fix in a pinch. I considered getting a tattoo over the scar, but I’ve no idea what to put there. Do they make ones that the owner can alter whenever they want?”

  “Those are expensive and the quality decreases with every change.”

  A violent outburst causes everyone to look at the bar where a beardless dwarf is shouting at the calico barmaid. Frothy ale and the remains of a broken mug are at their feet, the liquid flowing along the creases in the stone floor. Knowing that only one of them is needed, Sari and Delvin put out their hands for a game of rock, paper, and scissors. They stop when a purple streak races through the window and Fizzle lands on the waitress’s head. A cry of surprise is caught in the dwarf’s throat as the tiny dragon hits him in the face with a jet of rainbow mist. Patting the grinning drunk on the head with his tail, the drite flips into the air and quietly returns to his friends. The audience, including the dwarf, applauds the tiny dragon and a large apple pie is delivered to him a minute later. Before the champions can ask for a piece, Fizzle plunges his head into the warm dessert and goes about devouring it from the inside.

  “Ever notice that strangers seem to know what we like and don’t like?” Delvin asks as he tries to steal a forkful of pie. A reptilian tongue lances out of the crust to steal his bite, leaving the utensil sparkling clean. “Seems people are still collecting those figurines. I was asked for a few autographs while I was out too, which I’ll never get used to. This is without people knowing about the Baron, so I wonder what will happen after that battle is over.”

  “All of us will be famous and at least one of us won’t be around to enjoy the spoils of victory,” Sari states with a bitter smile. The worried scowl of her friend causes the gypsy to stretch her leg and rub his shin with a booted foot. “We all know what Gabriel said when you were fighting for the Compass Key, so I’m only being realistic. Not that I’m expecting it to be me or even hoping it is. That didn’t come out right. Look, Cunningham, there’s no point in worrying about the future. Live in the now and enjoy every minute with the people you love and who love you back.”

  “I’m here with you, Sari.”

  The blue-haired woman flicks some water at the warrior, creating an icicle on the tip of his nose. “And I love you like an irritating older brother. I hope you feel the same about me. Not that specific role because that would be insulting and creepy.”

  “Sorry. I do love you like a little sister and trusted friend,” Delvin replies while wiping his face clean. He takes off his chainmail and tucks it into his bottomless pouch, the sensation of not wearing armor making him groan in pleasure. “The two of us always seem to get into these conversations. Guess we’ve always been the lovesick type.”

  “It’s the whole unrequited thing that we’re struggling with,” Sari says before a pang of anguish hits her heart. With a muttered curse, she kicks her friend in the knee and points a stern finger at him. “Stop making me almost talk about the stuff I don’t want to talk about. We’ve been good since we left Darkmill. This journey is to find your temple, get as far as we can without the others, and give our hearts time to heal. I told Luke I was fine and I’m not going to risk him finding out that I may have twisted the truth for his benefit. Now eat your meal and find us a boat because I’m not swimming across the ocean with you on my back.”

  “Fizzle could do that,” the drite announces from inside the pie. He pokes his nose out of the crust and runs his tongue around the edge. “Turn into fat fish that spits from head. Fizzle see one near desert city. It big and strong and nice. No teeth, so Fizzle no know what it eat. It eat ocean trees from bottom?”

  “I’ve no idea what a whale eats,” Sari admits, scratching her head.

  “I’m guessing they suck smaller fish into their stomachs,” Delvin says before he covers his mouth to yawn. His jaw pops and nearly locks, so he massages the aching joints. “We should get some rest in a real bed and continue searching for a ship tomorrow. I hope we can get two rooms here. It looks pretty busy and I don’t want to wander around Freedom.”

  The gypsy pulls out her money pouch and drops a few gold coins on the table. “We only need one room with two beds. No sense in wasting money or making me feel like a plague carrier. Your unintentional rudeness aside, I’ve grown accustomed to being in your presence. It’s nice knowing that I have a friend nearby. The knowledge helps keep the nightmares at bay even if I’m alone in the bed.”

&nb
sp; Sari stops when the doors of the inn open and a gasping man stares directly at her. His tangled hair and salt-encrusted clothes make her think he is a wandering bum from the docks, so she snatches the gold coins off the table. When nobody else gives the stranger a second glance, she assumes he is local and these sudden entrances are fairly common. Weaving through the crowd, the man says some quick hellos and smiles at anyone who greets him. Though he appears to be determined to reach the champions, he stops to accept a free mug of cold ale from a friendly barmaid. Giving the girl a wet kiss on the hand, the grinning stranger returns the empty mug and continues on his way. As he gets within reach of the table, he pulls a colorful envelope out of his vest pocket. A golden signet ring with the symbol of a gull identifies him as a city courier, which erases the champions’ final specks of caution.

  “My name is Cherb and I have to deliver this to a Delvin Cunningham,” he explains in an energetic voice. When Sari tries to take the envelope, the man swiftly tucks it back into his vest pocket. “My apologies, milady, but if anyone besides a courier and the intended touch this envelope then it disappears. Those are the rules when a client pays for a secure delivery. I don’t want to have to run back to the office and grab it again. We’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, so I’m happy to get it out of circulation. The guards notified us that Mr. Cunningham had been seen near the docks and heading for this building. This man is supposed to be traveling with a drite and a-” Cherb pulls a scrap of paper out of his boot and studies the hastily scrawled words. “A bouncy, pretty gypsy girl that has probably already flirted her way to several free drinks and meals. She is also known as a benevolent tipper, so I should not let her tell me otherwise.”

  “I’ve been behaving this time,” Sari argues before sitting with a pout. Slipping her hand into her skirt pockets, she palms a diamond sphere for later. “This has to be Nyx’s doing. The others wouldn’t be so mean.”

  “I’m Delvin,” the warrior says, extending his hand for the colorful envelope. He nods to Cherb, the courier leaving with a bow as soon as Sari hands him the smooth orb. “I’m hoping this is good news and not a call for help. Though the latter would have caused them to send a more urgent message. At the very least, Dariana would have made contact.”

  Reading the neatly written message, Delvin finishes his meal and repeatedly gestures for Sari to stay seated. Knowing that the curious gypsy will keep trying to steal a glance, he orders two drinks to keep her occupied for a few minutes. Hoping to memorize the information, the warrior goes over the message several times and chuckles whenever he reaches the end of the page. Satisfied that he knows all of the details, Delvin tucks the colorful paper into his sleeve. He cringes when the message heats up and the ink melts off the parchment, the sticky liquid seeping through his shirt. The blue-eyed warrior curses under his breath at the mess on his arm and accepts a wet rag from a passing waiter to clean it off. All he accomplishes is smearing the ink along his forearm and further up his shirt.

  “It looks like Queen Ionia called in a favor to get us a ship,” Delvin says as he picks up his shield. Seeing a scrap of pie left, he spears it with his fork and eats it before the groggy drite can stop him. “The captain wants me to see him immediately and discuss a morning departure. So you get the room and I’ll take care of this. Think you can get a bath thrown in because I want to get this magic ink off me.”

  “I’ll do my best, but I think they work with a communal place down the street,” Sari replies while gathering Fizzle into her arms. She places the purple drite on her shoulder and he curls his long tail around her arm. “Have you heard of the person we’re going to be sailing with? I don’t want to walk into a trap.”

  “All I know is that his name is Captain Lunk Erovayn and his ship is the Little Sister,” the warrior replies with a smirk. Leaving some coins on the table, he scratches his scruffy chin and unknowingly smears some ink across his jawline. “I thought the ship’s name was funny considering what Nyx calls you. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was done on purpose. Anyway, I’ll be back soon. Try not to give my bed away if I’m out late.”

  “Hey, if someone makes a good offer then you’re on your own.”

  “I’ll give you ten diamond spheres to keep that bed unoccupied.”

  The gypsy hops onto her chair and gives Delvin a quick kiss on the cheek. “When will you people realize that the only reason you have money in your pockets is because I don’t want to carry it all. Good luck, Cunningham.”

  *****

  Sari tosses and turns in a restless sleep due to the heat that even the coastal breeze is powerless to dispel. Taking the bed nearest to the open window, the naiad-blooded woman does her best to stay cool without stripping naked. A thin shift of green silk keeps her covered, but the fabric sticks to her damp skin. Rolling to face the sky, she twists her body to avoid trapping Fizzle between her feet. The movement wakes her up enough to hear a creaky footstep on the other side of a white curtain that divides the room in half. Drawing a stiletto from the skirts that are piled on the floor, Sari slips out of bed and creeps toward the sound of someone rustling through a bag. She stops when the red moon casts enough light to reveal the silhouette of a man undressing.

  “Guess it’s only you, Delvin,” the gypsy whispers with a sigh of relief. The figure refuses to respond and pauses in an awkward position. “Why aren’t you talking? Is something wrong? If that isn’t you then know that I have a weapon. Many of them and some people claim that my body counts as one too.”

  Sari shoves the curtain aside and swiftly turns away when she sees that Delvin is still pulling up a pair of cotton shorts. She whistles and taps her foot before facing her friend and grinning at his exposed backside. A pang of guilt washes over her, resulting in a shudder when she imagines Nyx’s reaction to her staring at the warrior. Sari wipes the sweat from her brow that appears at the thought of the channeler’s love of magical flames. When the young man turns around, she can see that his ice blue eyes are barely open and she would not be surprised if he sleepwalked back to the room.

  “I haven’t seen that weapon in a while,” Delvin whispers, taking a seat on his bed. He yawns and stretches, which causes many of his joints to pop. “The ship will take us to a small jungle town called Anpress. We don’t have to pay them, but we do have to work. Our positions will be given to us in the morning.”

  “Then the hard part is over,” Sari says while juggling the stiletto. She admires the beautiful sheen of the blade as it passes through beams of crimson moonlight. “I keep finding a reason not to use this thing. I don’t want to lose it, I’m scared it will break, and another dagger would be better. The truth is that I treasure it too much to consider it a mere weapon. You probably think the same thing when it comes to the shield that Nyxie made for you.”

  “What happened to not talking about this?”

  “I know I said that, but maybe we should talk about it once.”

  “You mean you need someone to talk to about your battered heart.”

  “It’s not battered. Just a little . . . stomped on.”

  “Luke didn’t mean to stomp on it.”

  “The damage is mostly self-inflicted and we all know it.”

  Delvin sighs and pats the spot next to him, which the gypsy gingerly accepts. He notices she is subtly leaning away, so he reaches out to comfort her. The thin nightgown makes it difficult for the young man to know where he to put his hand, so he lets his arm drop to his side. Sari giggles at the attempt and inches closer to drape his arm around her shoulders. The warrior’s sweaty limb stays extended to keep his hand away from her exposed skin, but it is not a position he can hold for very long. Eventually, he lets Sari bend his elbow toward her side and she casually taps his knuckles. A tremor rocks her body, revealing how close she is to crying and releasing the emotions she has been keeping locked away for far too long. Delvin pats the gypsy on the head and gives her a friendly kiss on her blue, sweet-smelling hair.

  “I’m not going to say I’
m happy or sad about my situation,” Sari explains when she gathers her thoughts. A tear nearly escapes from her eye, but she forces it back in before her friend notices. “I had a chance to win and gave it up to do the right thing because Kira was with him first. That’s how things should have always gone, but I let myself get too close. My pain is my punishment and being away from him is helping me see that. Things may be awkward between us for a while and I still have that one kiss, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that I lost a lover. Now I’m trying to hold onto a friendship that might prove to be even stronger than what I originally wanted from him.”

  “Then why are you on the verge of crying?” Delvin asks, handing his friend a handkerchief from his bag. “It’s okay to be honest with me, Sari. You’re hurting and none of us can figure out why because you’re denying the most obvious reason.”

  “Why do people think love is so simple and clean?” the gypsy asks in a droning tone. She adjusts her gown and leans back, playfully licking her lips at the warrior. “I get the feeling that this is all people see me as. The beautiful and buxom champion who loves to play. The seductive rival of Kira Grasdon. Nothing more than eye-catching curves, a pretty face, and dresses with flashy skirts. I mean, did you see all the dolls that were made of me and the only difference was the clothing? You asked before about us being famous after we defeat the Baron. Well I’m hoping that people forget I was ever a champion. That way I won’t be stared at all the time and the whispers will stop.”

  “Those people are just-”

  “Say jealous and this conversation ends, Cunningham.”