I rolled out of bed to get dressed, and that was when I believed I’d gone crazy.
There had been a table next to the door.
I was positive because I had set my clothes on it, and now they were in a messy pile on the floor. Maybe the innkeeper needed it for something? It sent a chill down my spine thinking he had been in here when I was sleeping, but he hadn’t seemed all that harmful. I pushed the oddity away; I had much more to worry about.
I headed down to the bathhouse, and when I noticed it was empty, I washed up before anyone wandered in. There was some dried blood on my neck from the Red Forest, and I wondered if the assassin had seen it.
It was probably a regular sight for him.
I braided my hair and put my cloak on before heading over to the Smoky Tavern. I was about to go in when I heard a familiar deep voice behind me. “Get your horse and be ready to head out within the hour.”
Thank you, Alyria.
“But I thought I would be lucky to find someone desperate enough,” I said as I turned around. I had no idea why the assassin changed his mind, but it sent the blessed feeling of relief through my body. He knew about the Saccar, and maybe he could teach me how to resist it on the way. Or at least save me from walking to my demise like the night before.
He watched me for a moment, that heavy gaze burning me. “Don’t make me regret this.”
I couldn’t guarantee anything . . .
“Why did you change your mind?”
Could I trust an assassin? I didn’t think I had any other choice.
“Turns out I’ll be heading that way anyway. Might as well make some money on the way.”
It was a reasonable explanation. “Listen. . .” I stopped because I didn’t have a clue of what to call him. I didn’t think ‘assassin’ would suffice this entire journey.
He supplied it before I had to ask. “Weston.”
Weston. I mulled it around in my mind before I spoke. “There might be some people . . .” Well, this isn’t easy to explain. “. . . following me,” I finished.
The gleam in his gaze appeared almost amused, but he only said, “Be ready in an hour.”
Of course he wouldn’t have been worried about a little trouble. Assassins were trouble, and I saw in his eyes that he might have liked it a bit too much.
* * *
“I want you to teach me how to resist the Saccar,” I said while we were riding down the main cobblestone path out of the city.
“I will help you get to Undaley. But no more.”
I frowned. Was it so hard to teach me something while we rode side by side for a month? “What if it tries to sing me away again?”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t,” was all he said before ignoring all my other questions.
After a little while of silence, he finally acknowledged my presence. “We have a tail.”
An image of the inhuman rider popped into my mind, and I shivered. I never saw Weston look behind him, so how he knew someone was following was beyond me. I looked behind me but quickly turned back around. Wasn’t it a rule not to look behind you? Some kind of assassin rule?
In my quick glance, I hadn’t seen anyone there, at least not taking this trail. Every caravan rolling out of the city was taking a different path.
“Let’s lose them, shall we?” he asked. “You see the rocky terrain over that hill?” He pointed to the beginning of an immense mountain range, and I nodded with some hesitation. Why we were the only ones traveling this trail had apprehension clouding my thoughts. “There’s a pass in the rocks. Large enough for two horses.”
“What’s going to keep them from following us?”
He glanced at me. “They don’t have enough water.”
“Oh,” I replied as if that made sense.
An alarm rang in my head when I thought of the one canteen I had filled, but before I could say anything about it, he dashed off. I hurried to catch up, and we raced up the hill. Gallant gave Weston’s black steed a good chase. The wind blew my hood off, and the race was exhilarating. I couldn’t even seem to care that we supposedly had men following us. My only thoughts were of the warm sun on my skin and the fresh breeze against my face. There were flowers in bloom, covering the field like an orange and yellow blanket.
When we reached the top of the hill, I saw the entrance to the mountain range. It was like light and dark compared to the field. Fog covered it like a cloak, and as we got closer, I felt a cold breeze coming from within. I imagined it was the breath of an ice dragon from stories Grandmother had told me as a child.
Cold was one of the most uncomfortable things I’d ever felt, but as we reached the tight entrance of the mountain range, my thoughts on the cold were pushed aside when I felt the urgent need to take a drink. My throat felt so dry that it burned, and I had trouble swallowing. I reached into my saddlebag to get my canteen, but Weston grabbed my wrist. The tight entrance had our horses almost touching.
“You need to save the water,” he told me before dropping my wrist as if I would obey him from just those words. Get real. I tried to grab it again, but he wrapped my wrist in a vise grip.
“I really need a drink,” I said, trying to pull my wrist out of his grasp.
“No,” he said coolly.
Who the hell did he think he was? My throat was on fire. I tried to swallow, couldn’t, and felt as if I were losing my air supply. “You don’t understand. I need a drink!”
“I understand. But you need to save it.”
“Why?”
“Because the further we go into the mountains, the thirstier you will get. We need to save the water we have,” he said.
“I need a drink. Just a small one,” I begged, not being able to think about anything but water. Drinking it. Pouring it all over me.
“The land is cursed. Once we are out of the mountains, it will go away.” He let my wrist go, reached into my saddlebag, stole my canteen, and dropped it into his bag.
“I think I can regulate my own water,” I retorted.
“I very much doubt that,” he said dryly.
He was probably right. But you didn’t go around admitting your weaknesses.
“Why is it cursed?” I asked, the sensation of a scratchy throat hard to talk over.
He sighed like it was a grievous chore answering my questions. “A long time ago, a Mage came through here. He got lost in the maze-like mountain paths and died of thirst. Before he passed, he cursed the mountains. Any man entering would feel the intense thirst he did.”
My brows knitted. “Why would you take me this way?” The thirst was tenacious. I didn’t want to imagine what it would feel like deeper in the mountains.
“It was the least messy way to get rid of the tail, and it’s faster. It would take days to go around the mountains.”
After my body had gotten used to the thirst, and it became more of a severe annoyance than all-consuming, I finally felt how cold the air was on my skin.
“It’s so cold in here,” I said, shivering.
Weston grabbed something out of his saddlebag and handed it to me. A thick fur-lined cloak. I shrugged out of my own cloak; my shirt sleeves were pushed up, and I noticed him analyzing my cuffs. I tensed a little but didn’t try to hide them. I figured I wouldn’t be able to keep them hidden from him, being side-by-side for so long. Might as well get it over with. I slipped the cloak on, and the warm feel of the fur was inviting.
His gaze was cautious, maybe suspicious. “Who are you?”
I thought for a while before I answered the question. I was a farm girl from Alger, and I was supposedly a tool for the destruction of Alyria. But I didn’t want either to define me.
“Name’s Calamity,” I finally supplied through chattering teeth. And at that moment, I hoped more than anything my name wasn’t my fate.
“’Course it is.”
CHAPTER SIX
UNCERTAIN REALIZATIONS
As the sun set, I believed I would go down with it. The thirst was unbearable. My lips were
dry, and I kept licking them, but it only made it worse. I was so dizzy that I almost fell off Gallant, and we stopped to give the horses a respite shortly after.
I had concluded I would never make it out of the mountains, so why not drink the rest of the water right now?
Weston walked off for a moment, and I went to grab my canteen out of his bag, but suddenly a masculine hand reached it first. I groaned. I would fight for it, I needed it so bad. I tried to pull it out of his grasp, but it was pointless. So I had to use different tactics. I looked up at him coyly, not sure how to do it, considering I had never wanted to flirt with anyone in Alger.
“Just a small drink,” I said sweetly.
His lips tipped up in the corners, and I thought he was going to give in, but all he said was, “No.” He then walked away, and I wanted to scream. I was so frustrated and so thirsty. “You’ve almost drunk your entire canteen. You need to save it, considering we are staying here tonight.”
My stomach dropped.
“I’m going to die,” I declared, and I wholeheartedly believed it.
“You won’t die. But you’ll feel so bad you’ll want to.”
“How reassuring.”
I had no idea why he still looked so virile. As if he wasn’t affected at all. He only wore a sleeveless jerkin and his skin was still healthy and tan. I knew my lips were chapped, and my cheeks were red from the icy air. I was wrapped up in his cloak as if it were my lifeline, while he looked like this was the perfect temperature for him. I wanted to ask him why he looked as invincible as he seemed to in Cameron, but I was sure I would get an evasive answer, and I didn’t want to waste my breath. It was important in these mountains.
As we ate supper around the campfire, my mind fogged over, and I wondered where I was for a moment. The fire spun and faded in and out. I couldn’t hear the crackling of wood and flames. “Can I have some water now?” I asked, my voice sounding as though it were underwater.
He handed me the canteen. “A small drink.”
I didn’t care about saving water or anything else. All I cared about was sating my thirst. I took a big gulp and began to chug the water as if I had just run here from Alger. The canteen was ripped out of my hands.
“I swear, I should leave you in these mountains,” Weston snapped. His cold voice had me bristling, and I jumped to my feet. My head spun before everything went black.
* * *
I woke up on a pallet. The fur-lined cloak was around me, but still, I shivered. The sky was dark, and my first thought was sating my thirst. My body felt like it was shutting down, as if all my cells were shrinking, and a little bit of water would put them back right. The pain was unbearable as I crawled over to the canteen.
My vision was blurry, but I made it out lying next to Weston, while he lay on his back, his forearm over his eyes. A huge part of me knew this would be unfruitful, but the thirst pushed me, and I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to.
Thirst isn’t very stealthy. Leaves crunched, and sticks snapped as I crawled over to the water my body desperately needed.
When I was inches from grabbing it, my head spun as arms wrapped around me, and I was picked up and set down on my pallet. I groaned and rolled around in agony.
“Sleep,” said a deep voice, and then it was black.
I was in a semi-conscious state when something shook my shoulder.
“Go away, Benji,” I mumbled.
Another shake.
“Benji, I said go away.” I pushed at the dog.
Something cool touched my lips, and I imagined Benji licking me. I grimaced and turned my head. The coolness was back; water poured into my mouth, and clarity returned. I grabbed the canteen and got a few gulps out of it before I hit the bottom.
The small amount of water helped, and I opened my eyes to look around. The sun was rising, and the fire had been put out. Weston was packing some things into his saddlebags, and I got to my feet to help him, but I swayed where I stood. I tried to bend down to get my pallet, but dizziness took over and confusion surrounded me.
In the back of my mind, I knew why I was here, but a superficial part of my brain was playing tricks on me. I couldn’t get over the fact that if I were in the mountains alone, I would have never made it out. The thought sent a chill down my spine, and I felt overwhelmingly sorry for the Mage who had died like this.
“Come on. A few hours and we’ll be out,” Weston said while rolling up my pallet. “There’s a surprise on the other side.”
I stumbled over to my horse. When did I get this horse?
He was beautiful.
I smiled while I rubbed his nose. I was lifted off the ground, and my head spun while Weston set me on the back of his horse.
“This isn’t my horse,” I said while I watched Weston tie my horse to his with a heavy-lidded gaze, barely able to keep my eyes open.
“You think you’re in any condition to ride your horse?” he asked rhetorically. After he had mounted behind me, the feeling of safety surrounded me like a blanket. The blanket was so warm, it lulled me to sleep.
* * *
I was in and out of sleep for the duration of the ride through the mountains. I believed that I had been traveling through them for weeks.
Every time I awoke, I imagined it was another day past. This time when I awakened, the pain lessened with each clop of the horses’ hooves. Strength returned to my muscles, and I could lift my head.
Warm air hit me in the face as we stepped out of the mountain range and into a green valley. My ears perked when I heard the noise of running water. Although the intense thirst that I had felt in the mountains was gone, I still felt its residual effects.
My eyes landed on a waterfall that flowed down the side of the mountain and filled a crystal clear blue pool. A pool big enough to swim my heart out in. Happiness bloomed in my stomach. This was even better than seeing the sun in the Red Forest.
I shrugged off the cloak that was now too warm, swung my leg over, and hopped off the horse in one motion. I ran through the knee-high grass while shedding my leather belt and boots. The sun shined off the water, and nothing had ever looked as inviting.
It was a dream of mine to see Alyria outside Alger, and I smiled as I waded into the water. Even under these circumstances, I was still going to try and enjoy myself. The pool was warm, and I felt as though it was more than water, as it moved around me on its own.
It tasted like water.
And that was all I needed to know. I drank and drank until my belly was full of it.
When I couldn’t have possibly drunk anymore, I swam under the water. As soon as my head emerged, anxiety swirled around me as I had the thought that Weston could leave me here. He could have taken my coin, my horse, and all my possessions. I shot my head out of the water, and my heart calmed when I saw he was only filling the canteens by the side of the pool.
He must have read the panic in my eyes as his gaze met mine, because his expression hardened. “If I wanted your pathetic belongings, I could’ve taken them without leaving Cameron,” he bit out before he turned around and walked away.
I swallowed as guilt settled in my stomach. He had treated me relatively well in the mountains. He might not have been very nice, but he still got me out alive. But then the fact that he had brought me into the mountains surfaced in my head. We could have gone around. I shook off my thoughts; I had a right to be guarded. I barely knew him. And he was an assassin . . .
I waded in the pool until my skin was wrinkly and the sun began to set. I dragged myself out of the water, my wet clothes weighing me down. My stomach growled while I walked over to Weston starting a fire.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” he said without even glancing at me. I sat down by the fire and unbraided my hair to let it dry out. The heat emanating from the flames warmed my wet skin, and I lay down.
I looked at the stars, the fire crackling. A gold streak flew across the dark blue sky, and I smiled. It was said that every time someone in Alyria fell in love, a
gold star would fly. I never knew whether it was true, but I liked to believe it was. Fatigue absorbed any energy I had left, and I fell asleep moments later, my hunger forgotten.
The next morning we headed out early, and I ate some dried fruit Grandmother had packed. It was great to feel normal again, and I was high on life. I thought this must be what it felt like to be on Midnight Oil. All you had to do was take a trip through the cursed mountains, and you would feel so alive when you happened to get out. If you ever did, anyway.
“Please teach me to keep the Saccar away,” I said again.
Third time’s the charm, right?
“No.”
I rolled my eyes. This trip was looking bleaker every time he opened his mouth.
“Why not?”
“It’s a long process. It takes meditation and quiet. You can’t learn it on the back of a horse.”
“Well, you can teach me before bed each night then,” I supplied, glad to have found a solution.
“Tempting, but I’d rather not,” he said dryly.
“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” I scoffed.
His annoyed gaze settled on me. “Listen, I told you I would get you to Undaley City. I didn’t say I would chat with you the whole way.”
Okay . . . I thought slowly. I guessed assassins were murderers and not jesters for a reason. I looked around at the scenery and let his comment roll off me. The soft breeze had the long grass swaying, and it blew my unbound hair around my face.
Only a couple of days ago, I had been a different person in a different world. But I still looked like the farm girl from Alger. The small time I had been away, showed me how much I didn’t know about this land, and I wanted to take it on as a different person.
There was really only one thing I could change now. I stopped my horse and hopped down. I grabbed my knife out of my sheath while Weston looked at me indifferently as if it were a common thing for a woman to stop abruptly and pull out a knife. Probably was for him.
A Girl Named Calamity (Alyria Book 1) Page 5
