The Spirit of Malquia (In the Absence of Kings Book 2)
Page 26
Novas asked the driver to stop and then thanked him for his services, and he and Kayten lifted out their crates, departed the wagon, and then watched it pull away for a moment. Kayten shouldered her pack, lifted up her crate, having no difficulty with its weight.
“We’ll walk from here. It won’t be too long now,” Novas explained as he began to walk southwest towards the rolling hills and field of golden grasses and bronzed trees.
“Great!” Kayten replied as she followed his lead.
At the top of the hill, Novas scanned the surroundings for the markers he had memorized all those months ago and used his keen sight to peer far into the distance, searching for the most minute of details. The first marker was an arch of fallen trees, and he looked for their crisscrossed shape and particular brownness, but in the age of the season where most which was green had turned to shades of red, gold, and brown, this was more difficult than he supposed. Regardless, he led Kayten into the unpatched wild and kept a sharp eye on the horizon and his surroundings, looking for anything that resembled the way home.
“Aha! This is it,” Novas proclaimed as he sprinted up a hill with the crate in his hands.
Novas nodded with his head towards an animal’s skull hanging on the tree.
“That’s awfully grim,” Kayten commented as she looked up at the remains.
“Aw, don’t be like that. This is a marker, this is the way. It’s not far now,” Novas explained as he patted the skull and then looked around, trying to remember how he approached the tree for the first time and where he should go from there.
He led Kayten away from the tree, much to her pleasure, and they continued through the grassy fields. Kayten pushed through a particularly dense brush, doing her best to balance her crate, and she was puzzled when they came to a grassless patch in the field. Novas set his crate on the ground and felt at the ground, rubbing at the dirt and running it between his fingers.
“This is the place. It shouldn’t be far now,” Novas explained, picked up his crate, and then stepped through the dirt patch.
Puzzled, Kayten followed him again. Before long, they came to the border of a wide forest. They walked into a clearing of sparse trees with a few jagged stumps, and Kayten walked towards a dilapidated wagon. She ran her fingers across the ivy that had grown up around it, but something shiny like ink caught her eye— an insignia that seemed wholly familiar. She gasped as she uncovered the infamous symbol of a sword, axe, and a hammer over a black tree. This is where it all began, she thought to herself.
“Hey, don’t slack! We’re almost there,” Novas called from the top of the hill.
“Wait for me!” Kayten replied and hustled towards him as fast as she could.
They pushed through their fair share of tall grasses, hanging branches, and thick bush before Novas led them onto a well-worn path.
“Come on! It’s just this way,” Novas called out with his pack bouncing behind him, and his crate swaying side to side.
The sun that shot through the trees sped by in slivers, dancing upon the faces of Novas and Kayten as they hurried towards their destination, and the leaves fell like a heavy snow. The path bent around a corner, and Kayten saw the building in the distance. Novas ran into the clearing and dropped his crate suddenly. With his hands on his knees, he gasped for breath.
“Finally home,” Novas spoke as he looked up from the ground.
The radiant light still danced upon the angled rooftop, and the wood, smoothed over the years from the elements, shined a golden colour in the glow of the setting sun. Although the cabin was a bit smaller than her home and the smithy combined, it had a certain charm to it, and she knew she would come to love it in time just like the man who had brought her here.
“Come on. Help me move the barrier,” Novas insisted as he placed his pack against the cabin.
Kayten placed her possessions on the ground and moved to help him, and they pushed aside the wooden barrier that revealed the door behind it.
“Here we go,” Novas said as he turned the handle and pushed open the door.
“Ooph,” Kayten spoke as she entered the cabin, getting a big whiff of the musty room.
Novas noticed her distaste and smirked.
“Give it some time. Let me open the windows, it just needs to air out,” Novas explained as he made his way to the windows.
“I saw some lavender on the path not too far back. Do you mind if I go gather some?” Kayten asked, sniffing at the air.
“By all means,” Novas replied with a shrug, and he made towards his pack, walking Kayten out the door.
Novas unpacked his bow and picked up his quiver in the other hand. He leaned against the outside of the cabin and watched Kayten make her way out of the clearing, her hips swaying in sync with the blowing of the wind and the breathing of the trees. He watched as Kayten kneeled beside the road and began to pick at the herbs, safely within his vision. The column of light that landed on her head illuminated the fiery essence of her hair. No longer was it stoked by emotions of revenge and hate but passion and love. Novas picked out an arrow from the quiver. In a fluid motion, Novas lifted the bow, drew the string, and released the arrow into the air. He listened to the whistle as it sped away into a hanging target on a nearby tree. And in the center, the arrow stayed for a long time.
Epilogue
Novas cannot help but wait near the western cliffs and stare into the sea. From the stark bareness of the steep height, the wind plays chaos with the settling snow, obscuring Novas’ vision in split moments. Just before noon when the sun throws its light from the east, he watches each ripple of the waves all the way to the horizon and waits for the gray masts to appear. Winter has drawn on for far too long, and although it does not bother him, no one has come to take him from his woodland home. Even in peace, he has trouble trusting the shadows and the unfamiliar sounds that break through the forest melody. He turns away from the edge once again, glad but reluctant, and heads towards the cabin under the fading sunlight. He will return another day— he cannot deny the return of the Vandari.
To the readers,
Thank you for reading The Spirit of Malquia. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The exciting story continues with Book Three: Horizon, a sample of which can be read on my author’s webpage. If you’d like any more information on the series or myself, please feel free to check out the arrangement of online resources as listed below. I’d love to know what you thought of the book; please leave me a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
Truly,
-Lee LaCroix
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http://leelacroix.wordpress.com
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Copyright © 2015 by Lee LaCroix
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