by Anna Kashina
She took a step forward.
Don’t look down.
The bridge under her feet was steady, and not as uneven as she thought. Still, she could vividly imagine her foot failing to find a hold on the roughly hewn logs covered by the slippery coils of rope, making her stumble and fall down into the gorge below.
So deep.
Don’t look down.
She took another step, trying to look calm and focus her eyes on the group of people on the other side. They weren’t paying attention to her, busy with their horses and saddlebags. But Mai standing by the side of the bridge was watching, and there was no way in hell she was going to show him that she was afraid.
Don’t look down.
She tried to focus on the trees on the other side, so far away as she made her way along the narrow bridge. She stepped forward, trying to find a foothold.
And then the wind caught her.
A sideways gust caught the folds of her shirt and tugged, swaying her off balance. Her foot, searching for a hold, found a twig and slipped. She threw her arms out, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. As she swayed, trying to regain balance, her eyes moved against her will, down to her feet and below.
Blessed Shal Addim.
From this height the river looked no thicker than a rope coiling on the ground. She could barely hear the sounds of the rushing water, much more distant than the sound of the wind that was trying to knock her off the bridge and send her down, tumbling over, into the chasm. Her searching hands grasped for support, but all they could find was air.
Blessed Shal Addim.
She was losing balance.
She was going to die.
And then, suddenly, her hand came upon a solid object. She felt someone catch her arms and steady her.
She forced herself to look up and met a pair of steely blue eyes..
Mai.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered.
His voice was quiet, but its commanding tone was impossible to disobey. She closed her eyes, feeling the world sway around her in the gusts of wind. She held on to him, her hands going numb from the strength of her own grasp, and yet she couldn’t possibly feel safe.
Blessed Shal Addim, we are both going to fall.
We’re going to die!
He is going to die saving me.
I can’t let that happen.
“Let go of me!” she pleaded. “You can’t save me! I’m going to fall!”
He put an arm around her, drawing her closer. His hold was steady, like iron. She swayed against him, but he stood still, supporting both of their weights against the impossible shift of balance.
“Don’t move,” he told her.
The wind tugged at her. The bridge rocked with it, a barely perceptible movement that made the thick, solid wood seem like a hammock. She swayed.
“I can’t!” she wailed.
He held her so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, his soft golden curls brushing her skin. His body against her was light as the wind, yet hard as the rock. It seemed like nothing could possibly throw him off balance. She grabbed on to him, trying to keep still. But she couldn’t. She was going to fall, and she couldn’t possibly let him be pulled down with her.
“Let me go,” she sobbed. “Please, I can’t let you die saving me!”
“Don’t try to fight me. Just relax. I’ve got you.” This time there was no command in his voice. It was soothing, no louder than a whisper. It crept to her gut, making her feel warm inside. She suddenly became aware of his arms around her, of his perfectly sculpted muscle, iron-hard under the silky cloth of his shirt. She was helpless against his closeness. She couldn’t resist it anymore. She relaxed into his arms, giving in to the incredible sensation of strength and balance that he emanated, to his warmth and closeness that made her forget where she was, forget everything else except his body next to hers.
His skin had the faint smell of spring water and pine. Inhaling it, she suddenly felt stronger. She took a deep breath, steadying herself on her own feet.
“Now,” he said. “Let’s walk.”
They were so close now that their bodies felt like one. As he moved, she felt that his sense of balance had become part of her, so that she had no trouble stepping along with him.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he whispered, “and follow my feet. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
He is leading me like a horse, a part of her mind thought. But she didn’t care. All she cared about was the steadiness of his body against hers, his soothing voice that kept talking to her, engulfing her in the incredible feeling of warmth and safety he emanated. It seemed that nothing could possibly happen to her as long as he was near, so strong that even if she swayed and lost her footing he would never let her fall.
She didn’t remember how she made it to the place where, instead of wood and waxed rope, there was real soil under her feet. Mai’s hands disappeared. Ellah’s knees gave way and she sank to the ground, sobbing.
After a while she felt arms around her, soothing, calming, but different. A voice sounded close by her ear.
“It’s all right,” Mother Keeper said. “It’s over. You’re safe.”
Slowly, Ellah raised her head and forced herself to look. She knew they were probably all watching her now, thinking how stupid and useless she was. She couldn’t bear the shame of having everyone see her like this, her face swollen with tears. Not after she had been such a coward and needed rescue where everyone else was fine.
To her surprise, Mother Keeper was alone.
“Where’s everyone gone?” Ellah asked, her voice hoarse with tears.
“There’s a clearing up ahead,” Mother Keeper said. “They’re setting up camp.”
“But–” Ellah turned to look into the older woman’s eyes.
Mother Keeper smiled. “I think,” she said gently, “we’ve all had enough excitement for one day.”
Ellah lowered her head. “Aghat Mai risked his life for me. I did nothing to deserve it. He must think I am so–”
“Human?”
Ellah stared.
“It’s normal to be afraid of heights,” Mother Keeper said. “I myself was very afraid of heights once, a long time ago. At home, I couldn’t even stand on a stool to get dishes from the top shelf.”
“You?” Ellah looked at her in disbelief.
Mother Keeper’s smile widened. “Yes.”
“But–”
“We all have our weaknesses.” The older woman shook her head. “It would be foolish of Aghat Mai to think badly of you just because of what happened. I think you’ll agree with me that whatever else he is, he definitely isn’t foolish.”
“But he…” Ellah paused. How could she possibly say this? That he held her so close that their bodies felt like one, and that this breathtaking closeness made her forget everything, even the danger she was in. That he led her like a horse, blindfolded and trusting, ready to follow him anywhere, even to the ends of the world. She met the older woman’s eyes, feeling helpless with the new sensation, for which she had no name.
“He did what he could to save you,” Mother Keeper said. “And he succeeded. This is all that matters, and all that you should remember from this incident. Don’t think that if you’re weak somewhere you can’t be strong in other things. And, above all, don’t let your weaknesses weigh down your strengths.”
She got up from the ground and shook the grass off her clothes.
“Now, come,” she said. “I can smell Odara’s cooking. Dinner must be ready soon.”
She walked off along the path into the gathering dusk. Ellah hastily got to her feet and followed.
11
PURPLE
Ellah found Mai at the edge of the camp. He was sitting on the ground behind a large elderberry bush, polishing his weapon. She stopped a few paces away, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, but he was deeply absorbed in his task and showed no awareness of her.
Finally, she clear
ed her throat.
“I wanted to thank you,” she said.
There was another long pause, in which she started to doubt if he knew she was there. His eyes were half-closed as he ran his polishing stone in turn along each blade at the ends of his staff, listening to the resulting sound.
Ellah was beginning to wonder whether she should just leave, when he finally raised his head and looked up at her.
“No need.” He set aside his polishing stone and took out a piece of soft cloth, running it along the length of his weapon. The new procedure was soundless, but seemed to absorb his attention no less than the previous task. Ellah felt very tempted to retreat back to the fireside, where everyone else gathered to discuss the events of the day, but stopped herself. She had to go through with it.
She took a deep breath.
“You could have died,” she said. “I could’ve pulled you off balance. If we both fell, there would have been nothing you could’ve done. And, I know you didn’t have to do it. I know your duty is to protect King Evan, not me.”
She paused. Now it really felt like a good time to retreat. If she turned and ran, she wouldn’t even have to see his face when he looked up. She wouldn’t have to know if he thought of her the same way as she imagined herself this afternoon, a foolish coward with no more sense than a horse.
She clenched her teeth and stood her ground.
Mai slowly put aside his polishing cloth and raised his head to look her straight in the eyes. To her surprise, he was smiling.
“You couldn’t have pulled me off balance,” he said.
She stood back, unsure of what to say.
“Like I said,” he went on. “There’s no need for you to thank me. It was no trouble at all.”
She looked into his eyes. It suddenly felt so easy talking to him, as if he was one of the youngsters she grew up with.
“Whatever you say,” she said. “But even if it was no trouble for you, you did save my life. So, I wanted to thank you. Really. And,” she glanced at his weapon lying beside him on the grass, “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
She turned to go, but his gaze held her.
“Want to sit down?” he asked, gesturing to a place next to him.
Her heart quivered. She approached on stiff legs and sat, conscious to keep a clear distance from him. She was careful to look ahead and not at him, but she could feel his eyes on her. It was almost too much to take.
“So,” he said after a lengthy pause, in which Ellah’s cheeks made it through several shades of pink to a steady red color. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” Ellah heard herself say.
He didn’t respond. After a moment she dared a glance and caught his eyes. His gaze was steady, so direct that it made her feel exposed as if she was naked. Yet, she couldn’t look away. His quiet interest held her tighter than any bond.
“You’re Prince Kythar’s friend,” Mai said. It wasn’t a question, but since he didn’t continue, she felt like an answer was needed.
“We grew up together,” she said.
He nodded, glancing at the distant campfire through the thick elderberry growth, and back to her face. “So, how come you’re not traveling with him?”
She hesitated. She really wasn’t sure what to tell Mai. Even if she was starting to believe she had the gift, it didn’t seem right to share it with a near stranger. On the other hand, this man did save her life. She owed him a huge debt. At the very least, he deserved to know more about her.
“Mother Keeper asked me to go with her,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because,” Ellah took a breath, “she thinks I have a… a talent and she wants to help me learn to use it.”
His eyes lit up with keen interest. “You mean, magic?”
“Sort of.” Why was it so hard not to blush?
“What kind?”
“I can sense whether someone says the truth. At least, Mother Keeper thinks I can.”
“Can you?”
She hesitated. “Most of the time. But not always.”
He gave her a long look. “That’s how you knew those men back on the main road weren’t the Holy Knights?”
She nodded.
“So, you’re going to become a Keeper?”
His smile challenged. It made her want to impress him. But she couldn’t lie to him now, could she?
“No,” she said. “I’m just along for a few lessons.”
His expression didn’t change. She wasn’t sure what he thought, but the look in his eyes had her trapped.
“So, you can really sense the truth?” he asked.
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Let’s try,” he suggested. “You ask me something and see if I tell you the truth.”
“Ask you what?”
The smile faded from his lips and for a moment he looked almost serious.
“Anything. Anything at all.”
“And you’ll answer?”
“Yes.”
She thought about it. “How old are you?”
The smile was back, teasing, challenging. It made him look even younger than he already seemed.
“Twenty-four,” he said.
She looked at his face, at his smooth skin, at the soft blond curls and the slim body that made him seem so much like a young boy. She could have sworn he was not much older than her, nineteen at most.
“Really?”
“You tell me.” He laughed.
She hesitated. It was certainly possible. Despite his boyish looks, he had to be quite a bit older than Ellah to get a Diamond ranking among the Majat and serve as the head of the King’s personal guard for the past four years. And yet–
See the colors, she reminded herself. Red or pink if he was lying. Blue or green if he was telling the truth.
She closed her eyes, trying to focus his words into the color palette.
The color filling her mind was purple. She strained her inner vision, but there were no other colors.
“I – I don’t know,” she finally said.
He laughed. “What about your power? Can’t you use it?”
She met his eyes. “I just… I can’t tell.”
“Let’s try one more time,” he suggested.
His direct look was difficult to bear. She suddenly felt like she did back on the bridge, with his arms around her, and his muscle hard against her skin. The draw was irresistible like the draw of the wind pulling her over into the abyss.
She looked up at him helplessly. His face was serious, but in the depth of his eyes she saw laughter.
Mother Keeper’s words floated up in her mind. He’s a hired killer, cold-blooded and ruthless. If he gives you any attention, it’s either for his amusement or to serve some hidden purpose.
Looking at Mai, at his handsome face, at his graceful form and soft blond curls, she couldn’t believe it. But now she had a chance to find out.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
He kept her gaze. “Doing what?”
She took a deep breath. “Acting like… like you care.”
He didn’t respond at once. He continued to look at her. Except, there was no more laughter in his eyes.
“Maybe because I do?” he said quietly.
She felt dizzy. Now she almost wished for him to laugh, to show her that it was a joke. Yet another, deeper part of her wished that it was true and that she could once again fall into his arms and feel the closeness that made them, for a moment back on the bridge, feel like one. But he didn’t move. He just sat there, his gaze comforting and disquieting at the same time.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t do this. You can’t possibly mean it.”
“Can’t you tell?”
She looked deeper into his eyes, feeling that she was losing hold. The purple color filled her mind, overpowering all the rest.
“No,” she whispered.
“Use your power.”
She only shook her head.
His gaze wavered and became normal again, laughter dancing in its depths.
“One last question,” he said. “Make it easy this time.”
She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down.
“How many people have you killed?” she asked.
Once again, there was a flicker of seriousness before she saw laughter back in his eyes.
“About two hundred,” he said.
Colors. See the colors. Ellah focused, trying to see past his words like Mother Keeper taught her. She closed her eyes and relaxed, trying to distance herself from his eyes that rested so boldly on her blushing face. Yet, the only color she could see was purple.
She opened her eyes.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Somehow, with you, I can’t tell.”
There was a gleam in the depth of his eyes. For a brief moment she thought she saw triumph, but she dismissed the thought. What could he possibly gain from her confession?
She felt exhausted. Even if Mai did care, she had enough sense to know that there was an abyss as deep as the one they crossed today between caring for someone and being close. She had no business playing these games with a Diamond Majat. She wasn’t a romantic like Kyth. She should know better.
Yet, never in her life had she felt the way she was feeling now. Everything inside her was turning over with this new, frightening and blissful feeling.
12
MIDDLEDALE
“This man, Nimos, is really strange,” Alder said. “His behavior doesn’t make any sense. I mean, he knows he doesn’t have enough force to attack us. Why bother to show himself twice in a row and alert us to his bad intentions?”
For a while no one responded to the question, busy as they were with the meal – wild duck wrapped in clay and baked over the coals. Kyth had been skeptical about the recipe, watching with distaste as Kara and Raishan spread mud over the feathers, not bothering even to pluck the bird beforehand. But when the duck was fished out of the coals and the baked clay removed, the feathers came off with it to reveal the skin roasted to a perfect golden brown. The meat, carved into pieces and sprinkled by a fragrant spice from Raishan’s pack, was surprisingly tender. It was their best meal in days.
