The ship was an even bigger shock. Ode had sat in canoes before and what lay on the sea now seemed to him like a giant canoe with add-ons. He turned pale when Erek explained that they were supposed to live on the ship. Anxiety choked his throat, and it was with stiff, unwilling legs that Ode forced himself onto the deck. Arrow was also unsure and kept whining softly and butting Ode’s hand with his furry head.
On deck, the floor shifted and swelled under Ode’s feet as the ship rocked. The shouts and bustle of the sailors made him jump and fidget, but most disconcerting of all was the great stretch of green-blue that seemed to go on forever. It was like a lake without an opposite shore. Ode had admired the sea back with the New People, but he had been standing on dry land at the time. It had never crossed his mind that he would be expected to travel on it.
“How you be faring?” asked Erek, patting him on the back.
“I am … I am unsure about this journey.”
“We all be feeling that way!” said Erek with a laugh, but when he saw Ode’s petrified look, he paused. “I know this be difficult for you, but it be the only way back. That be the misfortune of living on an island. All the Scarlet Isles be like that. Once you become a Scarletion, it be part of life.”
Ode did not reply, for it had not occurred to him before that he was leaving the Wild Lands and, with it, his old self. He was soon to become a Scarletion.
“Let us be getting you settled with a bunk,” said Erek.
Ode stepped gingerly on deck, as if at any moment the boards beneath him would disappear and he would fall through into the sea. He followed Erek down a ladder into the bowels of the ship and the rancid, salty smell made him gag.
“Be nay worried, you get used to it,” said Erek cheerfully.
Clutching his stomach, Ode twisted with Erek through low-roofed passages, past barrels, sacks, and dead rats.
Arrow, who had leaped into the dark after him, sniffed the dead rats and growled at those still scurrying in the corners.
“The sailors be loving him if he catches them rats,” said Erek. “They be not so sure about a wolf when we walk on, but I be telling them he be good. He be good, yes?”
Ode nodded, too afraid to speak in case he vomited.
Erek stopped at a squat, damp room with white sheets hanging from the ceiling and dim light emitting from a tiny, round window.
“Perhaps you be laying a bit, yes? Get you some sea legs before you come back on deck?”
Ode glanced at the filthy, stained floor and Erek chuckled.
“Nay, in the hammocks,” he added, and when Ode did not move he demonstrated, climbing into one of the white sheets that swung from the ceiling.
Ode blinked at him, wondering if this could be happening.
“Scarletions sleep this way?” he asked, at last.
“Nay! This be just sailors. Don’t be looking too fussed now, you be getting used to it. Give it a try.”
Ode carefully climbed into one of the sheets and lay swinging from side to side like a stiff corpse.
“There now,” said Erek. “Just be laying there a moment.”
Ode closed his eyes, and Erek left the room. Beneath him, Ode heard Arrow prowl around the room, sniffing the rotten floor and snapping at the rats. Ode tried to think calming thoughts, but the terror of life on this ship for days on end brought a sweat to his brow. Above him, he could hear heavy footsteps running back and forth and shouting as the sailors prepared to set sail.
Suddenly, Ode’s stomach clenched and his eyes snapped open. He barely had time to sit up before he vomited over the side of the hammock, his bile pooling on the floor. He groaned and collapsed back against the foul sheet. It seemed that he was destined for another bout of sickness, but Ode did not realize that this one would last for days and days. It would go on and on until he finally set foot on firm land again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Journey
The passage across the Route Sea almost killed Ode. He barely left his hammock, and when he did, it was only to snatch a few breaths of fresh air on the top deck before he hurried back to the dim cabin below. The Kins were kind and they sat with him often, nursing him with ointments and prayers. Ode liked it best when they sang to him; their voices drowned out the constant crash of the waves and for a moment, Ode could pretend he was not on the ship.
Erek tried to cheer him up with tales of the land they were traveling to. It was Erek who explained that they were crossing what the Western Realm called the Route Sea, though other nationalities had different names for it. He attempted to fill Ode’s mind with mauve-crested mountains and temples strung with prayer flags that fluttered in the wind, but the images seemed too vague and surreal to Ode. They were lost in the slap of the waves against the walls and the shrill cries of the seagulls the sailors kept on board to carry messages between ships and the land.
Several times the ship was hit by terrible storms and Ode feared they would all perish. On these nights he would tumble out of his hammock and crouch on the filthy floor, his arms wrapped around Arrow’s furry shoulders, who would lick his cheek and whine. There he stayed in the darkness for hours on end, as the ship flopped and rose against the waves, sure that the waters would engulf them at any moment.
At night, the hammocks were full and the cabin stank of stale, unwashed bodies. The sailors grew irritated with Ode, and they teased and taunted him for his seasickness. Ode’s misery onboard the ship was so deep that when Erek told him they would soon be reaching land, he scarcely believed it. He could not remember anything but the sickly sway of the waves under his feet and the salty stench in the air.
One day, Erek came to fetch him, and despite Ode’s slurring protests, the Kin ushered him up on deck. Ode stumbled and tripped under Erek’s guidance to the edge of the ship to peer out at the endless blue. Except, this time, at the end of the blue there was a distant shadow of land. It was brown and smudged against the darkening pewter winter sky, but it was there. A cry of relief escaped Ode’s lips and the Kins around him smiled.
“We be home!” cried Erek. “We be almost home.”
That evening they reached the shore and Ode was first off the ship. Seeing him move so fast made the sailors laugh. They bid farewell to the Kins before beginning to unload their produce ferried over from the Wild Lands. Wood, coal, and caged animals were pulled out of the ship’s undercarriage and carried into the harbor. Ode walked past a boxed cougar, half-dead from the passage, and he had to force himself to turn his sad eyes away.
Keen to secure lodgings for the night, the Kins took their belongings and entered the city. If Ode had thought that the harbor town in the Wild Lands was big, this city was like nothing he could have imagined. At the end of each street, another four emerged, forking in different directions. There were people everywhere, laughing and drinking on corners, and gambling and stealing in the squares. Ode walked through it all with his hand buried deep in Arrow’s coarse coat, clinging on to something familiar. He still felt dizzy from his time at sea and it was almost easier for him to imagine that this new place was a strange dream.
“You have nay chosen an easy life with us,” said Molash, falling into step beside him. “This can nay be like anything you know.”
Ode nodded his agreement.
“The mountains be quieter, and you will like it better.”
Ode hoped he was right.
The Kins spent the night at an inn, and the next day they awoke early since Erek said it was important to leave before the city “came alive.” Ode did not know what this meant, but if what he had seen the night before—all of the bustling and shouting people—had been the city asleep, then he agreed they should leave as quickly as possible.
The Kins strode through the cobbled streets in the early morning light, heading for the road south that went out of the city. Even though the sun had not yet risen, Ode saw people scurrying across their path and some even lay asleep in the middle of the street. He was surrounded on all sides by high, towering houses
and there was not a tree in sight, let alone a forest. The flatlands of the Wild Lands seemed like a distant place now.
“As we be traveling down this road, the land be even and long,” explained Erek, while the party trudged out of the city and into farmland. “Right now, they be covered in snow, but in the summer they be lush and green. The brightest green you can be imagining—emerald colored. It be beautiful.”
Ode nodded and tried to envision the flat snow-covered land around them in the summertime.
“Is it like that in the mountains?” he asked.
Erek shook his head. “Nay, it be hot, dry, and brown in the mountains at summertime. The valleys is where there be water and food grown for us. But the mountains be a beauty of their own.”
Ode tried to imagine those soaring bumps as they traveled on many flat snowy roads. He waited for the mountains to appear, but the land remained even and there was nothing but blanketed whiteness, occasionally punctuated by rickety dwellings. It was not until he finally saw them one afternoon, looming out of the horizon like distant bruises in the sky, that he truly appreciated what Erek had meant when he called the mountains magnificent. To Ode, they seemed ethereal—as if they possessed a Magic of their own. But he decided to keep this observation to himself.
“You live there?” he asked, and the Kins chuckled.
“All of the temples be in the mountains,” said Erek. “This be just the beginning. The mountains go on, one after the other, all the way to the opposite side of the island.”
“That’s a long way,” said Ode, trying to imagine it.
“All them that be committing their lives to the gods live here,” explained Molash. “It be the place closest to the gods that us can get in the realm.”
As the mountains inched closer day after day, the ground under Ode’s feet began to rise. Around him, the season was nearing its end and the thick snow started to soften and melt. One day there was even a burst of sunshine that made everyone in the party smile.
Ode paused to relish its warmth on his cheeks, and it was then that he noticed the group was gaining altitude. If he looked behind him, he could see the flat lands they had walked across sinking below. Forever climbing upward, he had not realized they had come so far. When he looked ahead, the land kept inclining. He wondered if it would rise so high they could touch the clouds.
Each night, when the Kins made camp to eat and sleep, Erek would regale Ode with tales of their mountain existence, and the higher they rose, the more excited Erek’s storytelling became. He told Ode about their lives devoted to the gods and how the temple ran with each Kin and Kiness—a female member of the temple—taking on their fair share of work.
“Why do you devote your life to the gods?” Ode asked him one evening.
They sat inside their shared tent, wrapped in furs.
“At first, it be nay my choice to go to the mountains,” said Erek. “I nay pretend otherwise. Shadeet be not a wealthy place and my parents had ideas for me. They sent me here for a better life, but I nay regretted their decision.”
“Why?”
“You be ever told of the gods?”
“No,” Ode lied, thinking about Cala. “I only know what I have gathered from traveling with you these past moon cycles.”
“I be wanting to tell you more, but I be hoping you would ask yourself.”
“I’m asking now.”
“Our scriptures be saying that when the realm begun, Magic reigned free across the land and it be difficult and dangerous.”
At the mention of Magic, Ode stilled, and beside him, Arrow lifted his head.
“The gods be the ones that created it, placing Magic Beast and Magic Being and all other beings besides in the realm,” Erek continued. “They be the ones that control it all; they be the ones that made it all; they be like our parents, you see? That be why I give my life to them, for when I die, I be reunited with them.”
Ode nodded, but he barely heard Erek’s words. He was too shocked by the mention of Magic. He had never heard the Kins speak of it before.
“Perhaps that be all I should say now,” added Erek. “But I be telling you more over time.”
And from then on, every night Erek told Ode a little more about the gods. He explained that some of the Kins and Kinesses believed that the gods had spoken to them directly. He told Ode about the multitude of scriptures that had been passed down through generations, foretelling great events and setting rules for all beings. Ode listened to Erek attentively, yet he could not help but feel excluded. He was used to feeling freakish and unwelcome and he believed that a life of such blessings could not be possible for the likes of him. If the Kins knew of his Magic, he felt sure they would cast him out.
By day the Kins continued their journey. The winter finally melted into spring and buds began forming on the trees and bushes they passed. Ode saw that beneath the snow, the thawing ground was dusty and scattered with shingle. The farther they traveled upward, the more the trees and grass began to disappear until there were only low, scrubby bushes. The earth became browner and rocky, while the air thinned. Ode’s head started to ache and his chest choked on every breath.
“That be altitude sickness,” said one of the Kins, when he saw Ode slumped against a rock with his head between his knees. “You be getting that for a while ’til you get used to it.”
As the party climbed higher, Ode’s sickness grew worse. He stumbled through the journey, vomiting often, and at night he clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. Every day became an unforgiving upward struggle, and Ode could not enjoy the incredible view of rolling, craggy mountains that surrounded them. He had no relief until they finally reached the first mountain pass—a small dip between two craggy peaks.
“It be down into the valley after this,” said Erek, offering Ode a swig from his canteen.
“And then are we close?” gasped Ode.
“Nay! Then it be up another mountain. There be many more mountains to go yet.” Erek saw Ode’s expression and quickly added, “But it be getting easier for you. I be making you something to help when we get in the valley, yes?”
Ode nodded glumly and stared at the brown and black humps that lay before them. Some were so tall that their peaks were still iced with snow. Others looked so steep and stony that Ode thought it impossible to climb them at all. The road from the city had disappeared long ago, and now they were only following tracks worn by many seasons of past travelers.
On the road out of the city, the party had frequently passed families moving from village to village and farmers herding animals between fields. Such company had gradually decreased as the ground steepened, but now in the mountains, every so often they would climb a rock and come across a stranger, taking Ode by surprise. The mountain people were small, dark-haired, and shy. On one day they saw an old man herding goats across a slope and on another day, they passed children picking berries from bushes.
“Nam-yeh!” the Kins would call, waving.
The mountain people would nod and some would whisper, “Nam-yeh,” back at them with their heads bowed.
Erek explained that the mountain people lived in small villages nestled in the rocks. He said they frequently exchanged and shared food with the temples, but as a rule, they liked to keep to themselves.
“Were they here first?” asked Ode, thinking of the Wild Lands and the New People.
“We nay know,” said Erek. “Some think they descend from those that left the temples and the gods to live life alone. We be happy and peaceful with one another, that be all that matters.”
The valleys between the mountains were luscious and cool. On the brown slopes, the spring sunshine could be fierce, reminding Ode of his summer days in the plain lands, so it was often with relief that they descended into a shadowed valley where rivers bubbled and trees grew. As the days passed, Ode’s sickness lessened as he became accustomed to the thin air, until he felt almost normal again. Then he woke each day with a smile as the sun spilled onto the mountains and the s
ky warmed to a bright blue.
The days wore on, and they climbed through several more mountain passes until they came across their first temple. The Kins were excited to see it, perched on the crags opposite and carved out of the rock. It had red-painted walls and, from what Ode could see at a distance, carved pillars with fluttering strings of multicolored flags.
“Is that the temple?” he asked.
“Nay, but that be another temple we know,” replied Erek.
“Who lives there?”
“Kins and Kinesses from a different order,” he said. “We be from the Castle Temple—a temple aligned with the royal family of the Scarlet Isles. Our temple be farther on. It be the highest temple around.”
As the party entered another moon cycle, they began to come across more temples. All of them were painted red, but Ode could tell, even from a distance, that they differed in size and condition.
Life had become a cycle of walking then sleeping, walking then sleeping, and Ode began to wonder how he would cope with living at a temple like the many he had seen. He could not imagine himself eating and sleeping in such a place.
It was mid-spring when they finally reached the Castle Temple. They came to a mountain pass and all of a sudden, it appeared there on the rocks across a valley. It was the largest and highest temple Ode had seen. Its sprawling red walls bled into the rocks and its carved details shimmered in gold. There were strings of triangular prayer flags strung around it and across it, arcing and weaving like colored fringing. Ode felt a knot of apprehension form in his chest. They had been traveling for many moons and they had finally arrived, but he did not feel the same glee as the Kins around him. This place was still so unfamiliar.
“Thanks be to the gods!” cried the Kins.
The party began to descend into the valley and Ode noticed that this land was cultivated. There were crops growing and goats and sheep grazing in herds alongside thick, fat animals the Kins called yaks. In the distance, Ode could make out tiny red dots that looked like people watching over the animals.
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